It's late and we just got back from a very fine evening at The Palace given by Carlos for the locals. Leopoldo commented about how such an evening is fueled by gossip; I say, "What else is a locals' party for?"
If it's December, it is time for evening dinner parties by the pool. Throughout summer and fall it is very difficult to enjoy yourself here for any length of time because of the humidity, mosquitos, and rain. Come late November that all ends and the nights are glorious for party-giving. Here, some of the guests to meet Ditmar's new boyfriend from New York gather by the sweet little cottage, poolside, in back of the main house.

Ditmar's property is one of those rare parcels that is two lots of land; the back yard is full of paths leading to private sitting areas, dining alcoves, and--of course--the pool area. It was warm enough for some to even go into the pool at ten PM.

Papa was dancing with a talking skeleton purchased in Austria; perhaps this is a product of the rather cynical attitude of the Austrians, but it was fun. The skeleton talked throughout the performance uttering things like, "I used to be beautiful" and "Life just keeps dragging on". But, my favorite part of it all was this photo of her bony hand on Papa's crotch; Mama was serving slices of ice cream log at that point.