A Weekly Journal Chronicling My Life
As It Intersects With The Garbage Dump Community Near La Ceiba, Honduras

Monday, September 17, 2012

What Doth September Hold?

The weather's turned here in Central Pa, decidedly I think; it's downright cold these days. As I was perched on the roof outside my bedroom window the other day I realized that this will be the first Pennsylvania Autumn that I've experienced since 2006. Feeling the cool breeze on my face, watching the first leaves begin to swirl down the hollow; I'd forgotten how much Autumn puts me in a cheery disposition. It's hard to be dour this time of the year - the very feel of the air makes me happy. Lately there seems to me nothing so delightful as making myself coffee and sitting on the front porch (or the roof) and watching the weather. I remember that about Honduras, that was one of my small joys - the daytime heat may have been sweltering but very often the evening cooled off just enough to enable enjoyable porch-stting and coffee-drinking. Oh and the rare rain storm always warranted a stoppage to work and a reason to sit, drink and watch. Funny how weather has that effect on me.

I realized the other day that I haven't truly blogged since the end of July - I am embarrassed. It hasn't been for lack of life's happenings or fun facts to share. To be honest I've had little desire - it just isn't the same to be perched up here in Williamsport relaying the news from Los Laureles or even worse, the news from Williamsport. I do think it's important though, I think the stories of Laureles need to be heard and as of yet there is no one else to take that mantle. I will do better.

I sent some Birthday money to Blas the other day - he turned 18 last Monday. As he lives by himself in my old house I knew he wouldn't have anyone else that might celebrate it with him. I miss Blas, he's quiet and pensive but one of the most reliable, responsible and self-less people I've ever met. Maureen told me the next day that that particular Monday night she saw Blas and three of his closest friends downtown eating fried chicken at a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant. He had taken his birthday money, at least some of it and invited his friends to a fine meal of fried chicken and soda. They asked her to take their picture. Maureen recounted this with an air of "would we expect anything less from Blas?" - and she's right, we wouldn't. Although he's barely scrapping by on his trash collector's salary he still always thinks of others first. That's all for now - all I care to muster.

Blas Antonio Irias Bardales