Burn. Peel. Repeat.

That's the cycle we're on, I guess. A week in the car and we're all more susceptible to the sun: Quinn and I got burned yesterday. Quinn woke up painful this morning, and I felt that way last night. The real culprit, though, is the sunblock. The stuff we had before felt like Elmer's glue as far as texture, but once it was on, it stayed on all afternoon. This new tube goes on like a dream - everyone loves it for that. But after an hour, it's gone. We didn't realize that yesterday, and are paying the price today. I'm downright purple - Quinn is more evenly roasted, and probably won't peel. Neither of the kids has this trip. Janneke's peeling is over, revealing a coconut-brown Tahitian goddess of...You know what? I think I'll stop right there, before anything bad happens.

Because that would ruin the run we're on. We've gone a whole day here with no disasters or even difficulties. We planned on heading to the park nearby for some fun, coupled with a visit to a local vegetable market. The market turned out to be farther down the street than we thought, so Janneke went on alone and checked out the market, while the kids and I headed over to Ashford Avenue, the main tourist drag in Condado, to get a snack before returning to play in the park. We also bought a replacement mask and snorkel - the spot where the strap attaches to the mask popped off our last adult pair. They're pretty cheap, so they don't last that long, but before they break, they do work well.

Janneke reports that the market is adorable, filled with regulars sitting at tables playing dominoes, stalls that sell fresh vegetables, and an herbal remedies vendor. There's also a place that supposedly makes the best banana mango fruit shake on the island. We really, really need to go back there. But they didn't have anything that would make for a good gift for people back home. In the park, we sat in the shade while the kids played around on the playground equipment, until it dawned on us that we could again be playing hacky-sack, like we did at Burger King the other day. So we pulled it out and started to play, but before long Quinn came over, wanting to take part, and then Tess. And as you can see from the video, the game came to a screeching halt. It seems counter to the hacky-sack ethos to bar children from playing, but that's about what it comes down to. Otherwise, you're just dropping a bag of beads on the ground over and over.

Lunch at home - we're taking up the philosophy that all swimming will cease before 11:00 AM and will not resume until well past 2:00. And Tess did a marvelous job of falling asleep in her stroller, protected by her cardboard heat shield, despite the absolutely roasting temperatures outside. So that meant that Quinn and I hit the beach for some men's time, each clad in a tee-shirt so we wouldn't burn further.

We swam for ten minutes, and then Quinn wanted to make a castle. I got him hooked.

Janneke and Tess joined us for the late afternoon, and by the time all was said and done we weren't back at the house until 6:15. So we had a late, delicious supper of home-cooked chicken, and the evening ended with another rousing game of dominoes. That's something we're thinking of turning into a recurring family tradition - the version we play is simple enough so that Tess can basically understand it, it's random enough so that the winner can't truthfully gloat, and it's long-term enough to where a game can stretch out for a week or more. We'll see how it goes.

On to the pyrotechnics!



Hacky-sack with young-uns. Viewer discretion is advised:
This is really dull to participate in, let alone to watch.
Although some may find humor in my obvious discomfort at
having to bend down and touch the ground.



A new game the kids have come up with called "Workshop".
They sit in the kitchen with their respective boxes of sea-borne
treasures, and sharpen, arrange, scrape, and otherwise
fiddle with them.