We interrupt the regularly scheduled not posting anything on this blog for an overdue apology

So I don't recall why, but while The Archaeologist and I were talking tonight, I was reminded that in like 7th or 8th grade I rewrote the words to "Sounds of Silence" for a book report/project on 1984 . The Archaeologist, thinking I was just relating a random childhood story, complimented my bright idea. I proceeded to tell him that I then asked my dad to sing the new song into a tape recorder for me so I could then turn the tape in to my English teacher. The Archaeologist, thinking as the father of a daughter with a lot of my genes, looked at me with disbelief and a bit of horror in his eyes.

As all who are not 7/8th grade me can imagine, my dad was reluctant to do it. But as a kid I saw my parents do all sorts of unpleasant things all the time - plus, a lot of evidence seemed to indicate that they weren't prone to embarrassment. And he sang in the church choir ...and he kinda had a Garfunkel-fro back in the day - so no big deal, right?

Man, am I worried about the karmic comeuppance.

Especially because he did it. He actually sang a 13-yr-old's lyrics into a little tape recorder while the original played in the background knowing I was going to give it to another adult to listen to.

Since I haven't thought of this since Jr High, I've yet to apologize. The Archaeologist said I should make that apology a priority (and at some point in the story said that my dad better have a special place in heaven). So, dad: I am very very sorry! I now realize how much you really, truly, definitely did not want to do it. It is astounding that you did - knightly and selfless and frankly making me rethink trying to be like you as a parent because I so don't want to sing into whatever recording device is available 10 years from now to help Half-O with her school project.


(and no, I do not remember any of the 1984 lyrics - sorry. If, by chance, my Jr. High English teachers have found this blog and continue to read it despite my poor grammar, do one of you still have that cassette? and if so, could you please send me a transcription, and then destroy the tape for my dad? Thank you.)

Apologies all around

Apologies to July – you didn’t even get one post.

Apologies to Pachacamac, the zoo, and Ecuador – it seems so long ago that all I can manage by way of report are photo captions:

Pachacamac is a large archaeological site with a bunch of buildings, pyramids, a nunnery, a temple - but if you ask Half-O, it's the place with the little rocks.

Half-O and Uncle Benny on the Temple of the Sun

with a shot of the ocean

the side of the Temple of the Sun

Pachacamac

action shot

Yeah, these aren't animal habitats a fair distance from spectators. Half-O may seem nonchalant about a huge giraffe just above her head, but this was a quick shot, pre anxious pleas of "ready go; no like it; all done".

A perk of Peru and of only one child, is that we can do all the extra-curricular activities. They don't gouge you on those things here. So first we went on a little motor boat ride. How effective do you think that life-jacket is going to be?

Then we went on a hansom cab ride. On our right are the water buffalo. Perhaps you, like The Archaeologist, will be disturbed to learn that mozzarella comes from their milk.

Finally we went on the train ...or motorized vehicle in the shape of a train.

Ecuador, we hardly knew ye. This is Guayaquil - at least the view of it from our hostel. We chose Guayaquil because it was the cheapest flight out of Lima, and we stayed 2.5 days. But though it began for bureaucratic reasons, we quickly fell in love with the warm days and cool, windy nights.

Here's the hostel - Iguanazu. I highly recommend it if you find yourself in Guayaquil for a day or two.

Half-O really hit it off with the hostel cat. She's got an ad for a river front cafe in her hand - figure they were making lunch plans.

I laughed when I saw this (then made a mental note to try to correct my poor posture). We hadn't planned on imitating the sculpture. Nevertheless, I'm Bolivar and Half-O is San Martin.

The Archaeologist was excited by the port city's probable smuggling history as we walked along the banks of its muddy Guayas River. The city still has a fair amount of crime/corruption (like any port city worth its salt). They're trying to clean it up. This was taken along a newish boardwalk with museums and restaurants and shops and large iguanas.

And finally, apologies to those of you who come here for Half-O – she’s super cute and smart and awesome, and I haven’t been documenting it for you. I hope this is sufficient restitution: