San Geraldo watches out for me. Always. And his concern becomes especially pronounced following one of my careless moments. Like after I’ve sliced off the tip of my finger while cutting kitchen tiles; or knocked myself out by standing up at full-speed and slamming the bridge of my nose into the car’s hatchback that I forgot was open… on three different occasions… on three different cars… (or in the same way, the top of my head into the fireplace mantle; my eye into the kitchen cabinet; the back of my head into the table…); or after I’ve picked up the cast-iron pot lid with my bare hand even though I had just been told it had that moment come out of the oven; or stuck my hand blindly into a shrub to extract a dead leaf only to be stung by a bee (I’m allergic) hiding in the leaf that I decided to hand-pulverize (thus shooting every last bit of venom into my finger); or — most recently — after I’ve rolled out of bed and onto the floor.
|A DAILY DISH OF DELICIOUS, WITH A LIFE OF ITS OWN.|
Every evening, San Geraldo, prepares a plate of cheese, crackers, and apple slices for me to enjoy while I sit at my computer. Usually, I help out by carrying it from the kitchen myself (again, it’s the very least I can do). The crackers and apples tend to slide around on the plate if you move too fast. They can easily fly off the plate and onto the floor. Every single day, as I pick up the full plate, San Geraldo says, “Be careful now.”
|LUNCH AT CAFE SANTA MARTA YESTERDAY. (CHURCH OF SAN ANDRES IN BACKGROUND).
FLAMENQUIN. HAM ROLLED AROUND CHICKEN AND CHEESE, AND THEN BATTERED AND DEEP-FRIED.
HOT, MELTY, (OBSCENE), AND DANGEROUS ON SO MANY LEVELS.
Whenever I pick up a knife in the kitchen, San Geraldo warns, “Don’t cut yourself.”
|CHERRIES. “THEY HAVE PITS.”|
When he puts a pan from the stove into the sink, San Geraldo looks lovingly into my eyes. Then he smiles and says, “Hot.”
I’d be offended if I didn’t so need the reminders.
|THE DANGERS OF SLEEPING.
(DOING MUCH BETTER SINCE I SHAVED THE AREA TO PREP FOR THE BANDAGE).
NEVER TO BE SHOWN: THE BLACK & BLUE ON MY RIGHT GLUTE.
Since my roll out of bed and onto the floor Thursday morning, a new caution has been added to the list. When I say goodnight, San Geraldo now says, “Sleep well,” and then adds, “And be careful.”
|NO CAUTIONS NEEDED FOR LAST NIGHTS HOME-MADE BANANA BREAD!
(WELL… “SMALL BITES.”)
If this had all started only after I had met San Geraldo all those years ago, I’d say, ‘I just can’t help it. It’s love.’ It is that. But, sometimes, I’m just plain clumsy.