Postcards From San Miguel de Allende: Tienpo con Sultan en San Miguel

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Tienpo con Sultan en San Miguel

This little guy is acutally 'Oli,' Norm's oldest son, Joe's dog, but he looks very much like 'Sultan' the little schnauzer we'll be caring for while in San Miguel de Allende this year. Maybe we should have re-named our blog Tiempo con Sultan!
Watch for our adventures to begin on April 18th when we return to the lovely San Miguel de Allende.

~Norm & Nancy

1 comment:

Donna said...: I'm sure Sultan is longing for your return. And if you're anything like me, you're also longing to return to San Miguel de Allende. It's such an enchanting place.

If your visitors would like to read even more info and see photos of San Miguel, they can visit www.experience-san-miguel-de-allende.com; March 31, 2009 at 5:19 PM

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Oh the Places You Will Go !

Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any
direction you choose.
You’re on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy
who’ll decide where to go.
You’ll look up and down streets.
Look ‘em over with care.
About some you will say,
“I don’t choose to go there.”
With your head full of brains
and your shoes full of feet,
you’re too smart to go down
any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
you’ll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you’ll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
don’t worry. Don’t stew.
Just go right along.
You’ll start happening too.....

Oh the Places You Will Go! ~ Doctor Suess

Between Going and Staying by Octavio Paz

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass, rest
in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.