A photo for fifteen
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
How To Connect A Regulator To A Fan
tarecos The community of bloggers continues to grow. Today I have the pleasure to present a gizmo that I snuck home in the hands of Yoyo, blog Jinetera ... So what? . I do not think Yoyo requiring introduction. Since March 2005 has been one of the most active presence in the Cuban blogosphere. Some of the sharper reflections and most refreshing stories I read I found on his blog. I would not know now what to recommend. Visit his blog and read it over. Of course, beware that reading can become addictive. And let me know me. Without more, the Yoyo.
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A photo for fifteen Teresa
Looking much, asking friends where they could get a picture frame for my fifteen daughter, someone asked me to visit the old Mercedes. She sure could be resolved. And indeed, the old gave me the choice between several empty frames hanging on the wall farthest from the street.
was difficult to get there because the little light hid a multitude of dishes spread on the floor that made my job a real obstacle course. For years the old woman came to that point, or put house in order. - Over the years I need less and less space - I shouted from his chair.
Upon reaching my goal, two rows of tables had my sight. Would choose one thing to close your eyes and take the first front of me because they all seemed exactly the same in that darkness. Made in precious wood, mahogany I think, full of angels and dragons carved into the wood. But when I reached my hand, I could clearly hear a voice that said,
- I was waiting! Do you know my time hanging on these walls, waiting? I've been spending half story, but I will not be here to document the end of so much nonsense. Yes, I am, I came to this house in 1865 when everything was freshly painted. I brought Don Jerome, the Spaniard who built this and half the houses in the neighborhood. Met the girl at the time his 15 years Theresa and her father, to preserve the moment, he sent to make a portrait with a little-known French painter, but pretty cheap. You know how the Galician. The fact is that the painter did this shit and I stayed here hook, without paint look, forgotten for a couple of years until the beginning of the war, Don Jeronimo's business suffered as he had to sell low the house with everything inside. Since then successive owners kept the house but they never came to inhabit itself, but bought with the sole purpose of rent. It was the 10 years of that war, the truce came the war and then also 95 and I was waiting for someone to remember me. For the turn of the century, the house was bought for the daughter of a veteran who took care mambí return the stately halo with which he had conceived Don Jerome. Everything was new, the marbles were polished again, and finally, in 1905 I placed the picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. That was the nicest day of my life had gap in this wall hanging four decades. Since then I lived a period of relative calm, the lady had several children who remained more or less the home as God intended. Until finally one grandson! Raul was called a kid thought he deserved everything and read great books are very scarce. He spent hours together in front of me discussing politics. Spoke to overthrow such a Batista said he had been a coup for a couple of years ago. I saw this coming! Do not know this old box and almost a century old. One day he came dressed in green and with a beard quite sloppy and I knew it would start another After my ordeal. Came straight to me and said: - In this house, this bourgeois crap! But the old woman flew into a fierce and very strong after discussion agreed to place a blanket that covered me for years. When I got back to the light was before the little bastard, but I shave, just return the burial of the old. He did not wait a second, opened the glass above the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus placed a picture of Che Guevara. If it were not wood I suffer personality disorders! Over the next thirty long years passed before my children dressed young pioneers and militants. Sometimes I off the pace and took me to the area of \u200b\u200bthe CDR to chair the odd meeting. I had changed the neighborhood! Jeronimo houses were ruined smelly ... and the people? Dear me around naked, as the Lord brought into the world. Luckily I returned to my place. That was a crazy time, as the grandchildren of Raúl grew, discussions followed and were getting stronger. The old man was falling, that was clear. The years do not happen by chance, after a century in which only had the opportunity of studying humans, I realized that something was wrong. It was as if the family has two lives, one face to give neighbors and another within four walls. The eldest grandson of Raul, Mayito, hid little notes in my images, between Che and the Sacred Heart. Then I knew, because nobody has never hidden my speech, I had a bank of pointers and lists those numbers were betting that hid the old man, who was struggling even to yell from the rooftops: Fidel, this is your house . The coup de grace to the old granddaughter gave him the day he came accompanied by an Italian. The old man gave him one thing and fell there, where you're standing, hand on chest, round like a chicken. Do you think someone cry? No son, if these people does not believe in his mother. The next day pulled the image of Che and sold it Italian for $ 90 with the story that was the original photo Korda. And when the guy who was very religious, he saw the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, wanted and sold it too. They closed the business for a hundred bucks. The girl's eyes were bulged when he pulled yuma ticket. Without Raúl this house was like a rudderless ship, everyone did what he wanted. Bobolink was jailed as two times until the 94 made a raft and went as rafter. The girl got an Italian and left. They left and have not been reached over the fucked old who spends the day with couch, cursing by Raul, who rest in peace, while house is falling apart and filled with stray dogs, dust and shit ... Get me out of here! You said your daughter was fifteen years? "Teresa is called by chance ...?
General Electric is taking this opportunity to invite all the pots of the Comarca Blogger (ironing boards, brooms, washing Auric, vases ... and other noble human artifacts have thrown the abandonment) to collaborate with a history of glory or misery in this space. If you are a pileup and want to insert a chapter of his adventures on this page, let me get urgently to frigidaireamericano1@gmail.com . You put the beer and I will chill ... Greetings to all and thanks again to Yoyo by this bridge.
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