The changing of the season

We move again, very, very soon.  As excited as I am, it makes me tired to think about it.  And so I don't.  I'm procrastinating nicely.

It's exciting because we will be smack dab in the center (well, kind of on the edge, actually) of a little Goan village, full of lovely Goan people and also many, many international travelers.  Hippie travelers.  The kind that carry didgeridoos (sp?) and guitars with them, as we saw yesterday when we went to check on our new house.

Right now we are in another village that has large houses that are more spaced out.  We've only gotten to know a few neighbors.  I know this won't be the case in our new village.

It's also on the beach.  The wonderful beach, filled with little soccer players, some trash, many cows looking for friends, the inevitable beach dogs, gypsy women selling things, and tourists who want to take our pictures.  I've really never seen anything like it.  It's beach culture, but with Indian intensity.

Farther north everyone is gearing up for fall, but we are finally getting outside.

(I would have taken a shot of Kid A, but he was just all over the place...)