view from here

The steeple of the Paroguia in the Jardin is upper left.

 From the "it could be worse" department. My suntan salon is visible beyond the red chair, on the roof, the door to my room, with its skylight to the waning gibbous moon, is framed in lilac (or, as I prefer to think of it, jacaranda). I spend mornings with my mother,  midday on the roof surrounded by literal lavender, hollering down to her through the cupelo. Then comida, prepared by Rosio. While Mom takes her siesta I have  a little walk, returning before she wakes up for supper, TV and bed.