Supplying a Cuban School

Santo Domingo, Cuba.

It wasn't much. In fact, by our standards it really wasn't anything at all, but for a school there, every bit helps.
We'd read that school supplies are scarce so we brought some along with us. Five pencils take little room, an eraser even less, and foolscap is flat. The only question was when to do it?
In Santo Domingo I got my chance. I'd stayed back while almost everyone else went on a hike and used the time to look around. Just down from our resort was a school. The kids used the road as their playground. I watched them as I walked past.
The building is toward the top end of the line of buildings just past the building with the red roof.
I took what little supplies we'd brought and dropped them off. A gentleman had stepped out of one door of the school and was about to go in another when I handed them to him.
He smiled. So did I. Then I walked away.
It feels good to give something that is needed, wanted, appreciated, and will be used.

Twofer Tuesday--A Leprechaun for Your Thoughts

The Three Little Pigs in Santo Domingo

I've started editing A Fly On The Wall. Some of the characters weren't named until later so one of the first things to do was replace the placeholders with the names. It gave me a sense of accomplishment.
The first pass is for fixing obvious errors so I tend not to worry too much about Big Things Needing Fixing, but I've already spotted a glorious mess-up. I compromised by making a note of it to be dealt with later.

Reading took a back seat this past week. I have no reason, it just happened. The days may be getting longer, but they are also going faster.
I'm still reading All Quiet on the Western Front (by Erich Maria Remarque, First Ballantine Books edition 1982). It's compelling, it's stirring, and it's grabbed my innards and will not let go.
Here's a bit:
"We bayonet the others before they have time to get out their bombs. Then thirstily we drink the water they have for cooling the gun."

This is my contribution to the cause this week from A Fly on the Wall. It's close enough to St. Patrick's Day that I thought I should include a selection involving a leprechaun.

"Parsley Wornstaff had not thought his life was going to turn out this way. He was a careful fellow and minded his own business most of the time. In all the hundreds of years of sitting at the end of the rainbow on a desolate hill in Old NewBridge-Barrowsmith he never thought anyone would actually catch him."

Thanks for reading me.
For more or to get in on the fun please see the Women of Mystery.

**
If you're wondering, the photo has nothing to do with the body of this post.