There an element of the irreplaceable in something has been handmade.  These boots were made to fit my narrow feet perfectly.  The shaft is purposely small to accommodate my bird-like calves.  I know about the raw product.  I can tell you which parts are calf skin, and which are sheep skin, and the process for dying the leather.  I learned about the stitching and methodology of customizing boots for stick legs like mine.  I've hashed over the idea with their maker of unique and handmade, and the frustration that it is fading.  Even in Guatemala, it is an uphill battle to compete against mainstream production.

I've been breaking my boots in over the last two weeks, and while they are still rather stiff, the process is worth it.  Soon they will wrap themselves around my feet and hug them through wild adventures and trials alike.  I know they are just shoes, but there is a soulful element that is undeniable.  Given the time, they will become a wordless journal of the places we've crossed, and things we've been through.  They will tell a story- one I hope of passion, long journeys, difficult choices, and restoration.

My weekend was beyond beautiful.  As we drove to the lake, every once and a while, as we would crest a hill or round a turn, we were struck with a magnificent view of the the sun reflecting on the water as it faded behind the mountains.  The group arrived just as it was dark enough to hide the details.  Our first evening consisted of playing games with the kids and settling into a long dinner that carried us into the early morning.  The warm breeze and the sound of the lake served as a reminder to relax, and melt into our evening and that we were no longer contained indoors in our offices.

The view above greeted me in the morning along with a swarm of giggles and hugs from the girls.  The night before, the little girls had told me with stars in their eyes, that they take their breakfast on the veranda, "and we look at the lake, and it is just beautiful."  I initially laughed at their seriousness, but they were right, yes?  We ended up congregating on the veranda for our breakfasts and dinners and mid-morning coffee and late afternoon beer.  It was a magnet during all of our down time.  As the sun set, and blue in the lake met with the blue in the sky, the other colors seemed to become vibrant in turn before fading.  The green in the trees, then the fuschia of the little flowers that crawled up the side of the house. 

We came home on Sunday, but it felt like we had been gone for a week.

If you are ever in San Pedro, and need a place to hide and play, go straight to Caso del Lago.  The bed and breakfast is owned by my friend Joe and made for the perfect weekend- my best one yet.



Remember when I was waxing poetic on Friday and said I was going to 'shrug off the heaviness and play?'  

Mission accomplished.

I kayaked right by the tree those boys are climbing on Saturday, probably just as my back turned from a shade of pale pink to candy apple red.  Thus, on Sunday, I played with a borrowed lensbaby and hid from the sun like it was my job.

How was your weekend?