Friends, My predawn attempts to watch the planetary alignment have thus far been met with cloudy skies. The weather forecast through the end of the cosmic event suggests I shall not witness it. And yet, my futile attempts have been rewarded in other ways. The chorus of birds, frogs and insects singing in anticipation of the sun’s glorious rising complement the river’s steady churning. The crisp, fresh air in a desolate town whose citizens are still bidding Morpheus “adieu” caresses my skin while the sweet aroma of petrichor fills my lounges. Deep shadows of centenarian eucalyptus trees slowly recede and give way to the imperceptible progress of the brightening skies. Sure, witnessing those tiny bright spots lined-up in the sky would be pretty cool —like sprinkles on a donut. Speaking of donuts, if you’re ever in Cuenca around the feast of Corpus Christi (which ended yesterday) you need to try the Huevos Chilenos (Chilean Eggs) —think of them as less sweet donut holes. And, if like me t
Donuts are part of the magic that makes life so sweet. I founded the Level 3 Friday Donut Club in 2004 and ran it until my departure in 2015. It had a three year run at Windstream and is now virtual, but at its peak, we had a rotation of 50+ folks who brought donuts every Friday. We had three simple rules: (1) five dozen (2) boutique shop donuts (3) by 8:00 am. This blog memorializes these e-mails to share my thoughts (and, once upon a time, announce the donut arrival). Have a happy Friday!