The flies last summer were inexplicable. They swarmed our kitchen, yard, and garage. And let me stress it was just our yard. No other neighbors seemed to have such an affliction. I don’t remember whose idea the fly tape was, but it wasn’t successful. This guy died in vain.


This is the river--the river that I spent 8 hours floating along like a piece of drift wood. Our small boat's propeller broke and then the back up propeller broke. I had one soggy monsoon-rained-on baguette and an airplane ticket that left that night. No one on the boat spoke English. I heard the teenage captain calling out to small villages as they watched us hopelessly pass by. I wasn't entirely sure this captain wasn't announcing to the locals a fair trade of one small propeller for one tasty american tourist.