So we'll go bit by bit, starting with New England (full set here). It's a little-known fact that all great tales of South America begin with hot cider—all great tales of anything, really. Here's yours:
You should bring it along to keep warm at the Paradise City Arts Festival, especially in the sculpture garden.
Watch out for the dog on a hog. He takes no prisoners.
The leaves were just starting to do their magic thing. In Vermont, for instance:
Wait, what's that you said? You want to see my ride?
Yeah, baby. There ain't no party like a Delaware PT Cruiser party. That trunk is plenty big enough to hold a few of these:
But I didn't think they'd survive the trip from Boston to Argentina.
After a big pile of hours and a minor adventure with the prepaid cab company, I reached Amy's place (sans pumpkins) in Buenos Aires. Her new kitchen is stocked with all the necessities.
She lives in Villa Crespo, near the city center. This is the view from her very pretty, very sunny terrace.
Someday, I'd like to have a terrace. Or even a window box. But in the meantime, all I have is about a million more photos for you. Coming soon!
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