No biscuits this morning. English class until 9pm Thursday squashed that but good. But we have a full tank of gas, so I could have made them if I'd wanted to.

Instead, I sat on the patio this morning, reading Harper's and drinking my tea and listening to the squeals of children playing before the start of school. Moderate Shangri-la backs up onto a primary school, and every school morning G and I are treated to the sounds of playground fun, or recitations en masse of who knows what -- pledges of allegience? Multiplication tables? The morning's news? -- songs, speeches, and so on. This morning, after some contemporary Mexican music, the raucus shouting morphed into a rhythmic chant, that only slowly penetrated our consciousnesses: b ... b ... ba ... bas ... bas ... bas..ll ... basket...ll ... basketball ... basketball ... basketball! Only down here it comes out bahskeetbowl, bahskeetbowl!

Also, today was the end of my three weeks of Spanish class. Ahora, practicar!