In the year since I last visited T., he has lost one dog and acquired three, gained four cats and a burro, added a couple more hens to his flock (including one named Finger Lickin'), and added a young man to his household, who seems to be taking care of T. and the animals in a way that is good for all. T's garden has become lush -- herbs, flowers, trees, vines, cacti all maturing at a pace unheard of in more northern climes. The exterior of the house has been repainted in a rainbow of happy hues: purple, bright pink, blue,and orange, with green trim. It may sound garish, but it is delightful.
The mountains, in the not-so distance remain as I remember them: majestic, shrouded in mist, and blanketed by trees. Except for the early morning wake-up call of the rooster and the erratic, ear shattering brays of Lucky the Donkey, and the barking of Marcelo, India, and Mondy, this place is pleasure, this place is peace, this place is Paradise.