Signs that you might be becoming culturally adapted to Argentina; You think it is your lucky day when there are only forty people in front of you at the bank (forty-one to be precise this morning).
I preached on Sunday, continuing my meander around the “I am” statements in John. It’ll be up under the sermons tab when I get round to putting it there. I did “I am the gate” thinking about the start of Advent. The summing up at the end conclusively demonstrated that the “summer-upper” had totally missed my point by a factor of a hundred and eighty degrees. What ho! We battle on.
As soon as the service finished we hotfooted it out of the door and into our even hotter car to our rapidly-becoming spiritual second home of Miramar, complete with tent and related accoutrements. We divided our time between the beach, the pool and the waterfront cafe. We took a funny little 4×4 truck drive to see flamingos and black vultures. I even managed to use the long lens that I brought back from the UK last year. Next time I might even manage not to over-expose the images, and at least now I know where the vultures hang out, I’ve even got written instructions for future reference, so they’d better not move house without telling me.
Danny dispensing baby-charm and blonde cuteness around the beach found himself set upon and photographed from all angles by a young girl who turned out to be working for the Miramar municipality to put together this year’s tourism website. (It’s OK, no-one asks permission to take photographs here, that’s normal, we’re OK with that). When the second young girl arrived, also armed with camera, the first one went into raptures about the toddler she’d been featuring. “Oh I know that baby” said the second girl, “I took pictures of him for last year’s too!” Sadly we’re not receiving any royalties for all this high quality photo material, but it’s nice to know that we aren’t the only ones who think our kids are fantastic.
