|BEFORE THEY STARTED HAULING IT AWAY.|
So, we walked home and I took a few last shots of the large mountain of trash on our plaza before going to bed. I then spent most of the night awake. There was constant noise on the streets and plaza. I assumed it was from crews cleaning up the trash, but I finally got out of bed Friday morning to find the trash mountains exactly as they had been. Instead, the remaining palm tree on the plaza had been trimmed of dead fronds, and all the orange trees had been harvested. So much for a good night's sleep.
|MY MOMENT OF FAME TOOK PLACE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN.|
Last night, they began to attack trash mountain. More than half remains. I have a feeling tonight's sleep won't be any less peaceful, but I sure am glad they're cleaning it up. Even our airy plaza is beginning to smell. So, the strike ends and so too my brilliant career.