Mata Solana, February 11, 2007 

“Better late than never.” I heard someone say something like that once … whether it was a saying coined in the dawning of the age of humans, such as ourselves, and doomed just to be a relic of something that we don’t practice or need anymore, like the bones which still form in the current human hand, useless to everything except walking on fours … Anyway, I was inspired by this phrase, when I realized I was about one month late on my blog which is titled “NUMBER 9.” Well, check it out. I have excuses. It's my thing — excuses — shot blockin’ and what not, so I brought my basket full of 'em today so let's just leave it like that. 

Which reminds me again.
Fours.

Four Fours. 

In Rummy 500 this would land you a sweet 20 points. Which is more or less worthless. Says a lot about life. 15 points for an Ace, and 10 points for any face card. Then any “normal” card gets only 5. It’s a rip-off, and I will never like it. 

In Rumney we learned to climb on all fours. Coincidence. Hell no. We played Rummy 500, last night. 

So, in the last month my life has been full of crazy shit (pun intended). There’s been everything from international travel, shopping for socks, driving on curvy roads, pensive moments, talking out loud, being alive not dead, cooking and eating, hysteric laughter, stretching, onsight climbing, facial expressions like “Well, shit ... ”, being depressed, getting injured in multiple ways, making tea, walking aimlessly in airports, giving hospital staff a hard time, rock climbing, convention center things, frozen riversides covered in snow, and to top it off, friends in Catalunya! I can say for sure, life has not been boring. 

I am in Mata Solana right now, a quaint mountain town near Terradets. We see a valley, we have a fireplace, and the sun hits the building all day. We are all exuding peace and happiness, and we have in three nights drank over 15 bottles and that’s probably being conservative with the truth. The name Mata Solana is meaning, “killed by the sun” so you can imagine, a blistering inferno, where myself, Klemen clementine Becan, Joe Kinder, and his queen, Colette McInerney, are roasting alive.