un beso eterno

I woke up dreaming that I was being kissed on the lips.
That is unusual.
I have not been kissed in about five years.
I don't dream or think on such things.
I want to ride my motorcycle to work tomorrow.
I haven't ever since I got this job, mid-December 2009.
It has been dark in the morning and I am afraid that a slippery spot will sneak up on me.
On the ride home, I regret it.
Tomorrow the sun will be coming up as I leave and it will be about 21°.
There has been a problem getting pickles trucked up from Mexico.
There is no production tomorrow, just us Maintenance guys.
I like working with Mexicans more than white guys.
The Mexicans share their food all around at lunch.
If you forgot your lunch you will not be hungry.
If you brought your lunch you will have more than enough.
Yesterday I learned to say cállate. ¡Cállate!
Today's word was joto.
I was unemployed for most of 2009 and I am making about 60% of what I used to but I still pay my bills. God provides.
Somebody stole $100 from Paul last week. He paid $100 to learn a life-lesson.
I wish that he could afford to get his Norton motorcycle back from Phoenix so that he had something to work on.
Paul has a VW with a wooden frame holding a mismatched headlight in on the right side. He had an accident on a snowy night.
Beth has a Geo with a hammered-back-into-shape hood and fenders; she was hit by an SUV and was blamed for it because she is a teenager.
I am the only one here that has both bumpers but my Jeep doesn't have a floor anymore.
Luke is living at his girlfriend's parents house because they feed him and take care of him.
He works several jobs and goes to school and climbs rocks because he can't kayak right now.
I have been home for an hour and finally took my coat off.
On the way to work, depending on which route I take, I can drive past where my Granny Stewart grew up, where she taught school, where she married and raised her children and had a house built in the calf pasture.
On the way to work, depending on which route I take, I can drive past where my Grandfather Bergin farmed and planted evergreens that are now being enjoyed by people in big houses.
On the way to work, depending on which route I take, I can drive past the barn that my mother was painting when my dad spied her first.
On the way to work, depending on which route I take, I can drive past where my mom and dad were married.
On the way to work I usually get irritated if someone is behind me. On the same road.
Some mornings I can go all the way to Woodstock with out any irritation.
I really like being kissed.
Sometimes I call out "Char" just to see if she will answer.