1st July 2024.

Maximum surveillance is necessary these days.
😟
Beryl is more than a headache.

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2024/weather/maps-beryl.html

Imagine, it has become a category 4 hurricane, moving like a beast encouraged because it knows it is the first monster of this hurricane season. I worry about people who don't have strong enough houses. Already these days there have been reports of collapses in Havana. So much rain and humidity on those old buildings and then when the sun comes out... they break down.

What are we going to do? Nothing. Protect what we can. Nothing stops Beryl. Or I don't know.

I walk around barefoot, picking mangoes in the afternoons when the rain stops. It rains every afternoon.

And it's not a romantic rain. It's stormy with lightning and thunder. Invariably, we run out of electricity. Two days ago they took it off at 5 p.m. and put it on after 12... I don't know. It was the middle of the night and the mosquitoes had already eaten me. I also don't know if I still have blood running through my veins. Sometimes I felt fatigued, maybe I needed a transfusion.

The mangoes.
I try to conquer the ones that fall before they are devoured by Tarzan, the rooster, who, by the way, is not mine. He (I gave it that name) is faster than me many times and I... I have nothing left to do but smile. I talked to him and congratulated him on being able to provide his food. You see, I'm addressing another surveillance issue here.

That rooster... I don't love him, but he loves me and is happy in my backyard. Maybe one day I'll change my mind and start to love him, although I think I have a fixed intention not to love him. What to do? He enjoys shouting at my window at 5 o'clock in the morning, without mercy. What I do is get angry and then the anger goes away little by little.

This morning I woke up bathed in sweat. I was having a terrible nightmare-dream, weird... apotheosis, I'd say. Tarzan dragged me out of it with his shouting. I didn't know whether to thank him for waking me up. Tarzan... I understand, I said, you're out of your hens. This was when I was no longer angry. Because amid that emotion, I tried to keep quiet.

What I was dreaming seemed bad, but it wasn't really. Later I googled and, on several pages, it looked positive. I didn't go any deeper and decided to stay with that idea because I always try to be positive in any situation.

The chickens an hens.
The neighbour managed to catch them all, but now I don't know why Tarzan doesn't go with them if it's just climbing a wall... I don't understand, as if they were on another continent.

Instead, Tarzan prefers to stay here alone, chanting his litany. Sometimes I think about these things for longer than I should, and it seems to me that they are not balanced, no.

God forbid I should one day become like Tarzan. Correction... I admire him for providing his food and helping his missing harem of hens find it. As for the rest, there is no admiration at all.

The yard floods a little bit. But then the soil absorbs the water well and it's accelerating the growth process of everything, weeds, for example... sorry, what am I saying?

“A weed is but an unloved flower.”

― Ella Wheeler Wilcox

😇

Also, the humidity allows the proliferation of fungi that look like raspberry biscuits. I don't know anything about mushrooms, but this looks tasty, doesn't it?

And to finish this update... I have to prune the bougainvillea. I'm keeping an eye on it too because it's gone bad. I'm going to have to perform a surgical intervention on it. It's going to be hard work because she is a lioness with sharp claws.

🙁