1 Septiembre

September is 7 hours and 45 minutes old and I've already watched the sunrise over foggy, rolling hills interspersed with pine trees while listening to the cows say good morning and drinking a cup of sugary coffee cut with milk that I, personally, milked right from the cow into my cup. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, but who could pass up the opportunity to complete that sentence.

Look at Don Francisco's face. He's loving the fact that I want to get up at 4:30 and go learn to milk cows out in the campo. We'd known each other for about three minutes when he first asked me if I wanted to go out to the finca and milk cows (I was drinking a cup of hot milk in his son's house at the time). I said, heck yeah, how about Wednesday. He was also the one that proposed I go take a walk around the hill so I could enjoy the sunrise, that I should take a cup of coffee with me, and that it was only appropriate the I put milk in it right from the cow.