It kind of had a funky smell. At Christmas, the tree helped.

It is true, our new digs came with a funky smell. Although the smell may be from us. There is an odor emanating from our mountain of dirty clothes. Dirty. As in we spend all day sweating profusely and then leave clothes in big, mildewy piles for weeks. I have yet to master the domestic arts of Jamaica. Which is why the clothes sit in heaps. I spent hours doing laundry by hand yesterday. It made my hands bleed and the clothes are still stinky and the pile is still immense. Sigh. We just finished a fabulous dinner. We made our own tortillas, and guacamole. I know. The stove shocks you if you are barefoot. Actually I am having a difficult time concentrating. The Girls Next Door is on. It’s Kendra’s 21st birthday, her boob popped out and she was too drunk to notice. I would like a pimp cup. Our shower here is quite chilly, and this, unfortunately, makes Patrick reluctant to use it. It also doesn’t drain well and the tap is about shoulder height, which makes acrobatics necessary. BUT, there are no cockroaches crawling out of the drain. Nothing makes your skin crawl like plagues of roaches when you’re naked. Our porch kicks ass. You can see and hear the ocean from it. Besides the porch, and the lack of cranky women asking us when we’re getting out of their houses, my favorite thing here is the artwork. Behind the couch, there is giant parrot. It has a lilac plumage. My least favorite part is the MU poster on the wall. Are you going to let this nonsense stand, Dad? I thought not. Speaking of father figures, Alan and Meg visited last week. I don’t consider Meg a father figure. I do like the word inane. Sometimes I act that way. These pictures are of Alan and Patrick launching themselves off of the cliffs in Negril. How cool are elephants? One just crunched Jeff Corwin’s arm with his trunk. Awesome. The kids at our village were convinced that Meg was Patrick’s mom. I’m fairly sure that all white people look similar to them and that our ages are indeterminate. Every time I am with another white person people ask if we siblings. I’m not really sure what the logic behind that is. Luckily, we enjoyed mostly sunny days for the duration of the week. We put those days to good use, making our guests move all of our stuff from our former abode to our new haven. What a vacation. Our Jamaican friends came for a housewarming this last weekend. Matt made a delicious cheesecake that was for Tiff, but which we all partook of. In spite of our anomalously hectic lifestyle, things are going along swimmingly at the children’s village. We have a loyal contingent of diligent homework doers. Both of us feel extremely lucky to be placed where we are. I can’t stress how wonderful the staff is, and the children are pretty much all we talk about. As I wrap up, I would like to once again express our gratitude to family and friends for acting as our pipeline to the States. Alan, it was wonderful seeing you and we can’t thank you enough for acting the part of courier. Moms, the library and school paraphernalia is invaluable. The children are already nuts about the flash cards and books. Jen, the book is wonderful and the Office stuff is prominently displayed on our fridge. G-Ma, I’m told you sent the lovely, soft sheets. This is a relief from the hideously scratchy sheets we picked up here. Aunt Della and Laura, thanks for the kitchen stuff. Meg, I’m glad you came to visit and I’m glad you brought tampons and chocolate. Downside to American TV channels—you see things you can’t have i.e. pumpkin lattes and donuts.