And Christmas comes anew, though this year besides being grateful from being alive, there is not much Christmas spirit going on for me. But be it in my recovery bed or from what I can see from the country, there is a general depression and no mood for partying much besides the family gathering of 24th at night (the 25th is to recover from the excesses of the 24th eve). But there will be plenty of time to discuss the latest craziness of Chavez the coming week end. Let's focus on the couple of days of peace that we hope he will grant us.
I thought that to cheer up a little bit those that are stuck in a likely brutally cold Christmas (East Coast or Europe) I could share the views from my hammock where I spend all my days since I left the hospital. Recovery is slow and I have little taste for reading or watching TV. Instead I spend hours looking over a corner of Caracas or observing the evolution of the poinsettia tree, or that corner of the garden where white, red, blue and pink mix, in spite of the dry wind and drought. Yes, with another poinsettia, why should we deprive ourselves to get the real trees?
Merry Christmas to all of you!