I see that I still have a few minutes before the clock strikes 5 pm; when the magic carriage pulls up, loaded with gifts of good booze and great cigars. So I’ll take the next couple of minutes to post the struggles of this past week.

The transformer blew up at the factory week before last so it wasn’t until this past Monday when power was restored that we were able to get out there to document the process of how sahara sandals makes the best handmade sandals in the world.

I assembled all of the photos into a document for a presentation that I then made on Tuesday to the State of Michoacan’s Ministry of Economy. If you are interested in the frustrating results of that meeting, please see the post from a couple of days ago entitled ‘Government’. And if you are interested in my rather scathing and acerbic Ambrose Bierce Devil’s Dictionary [style of] definition of ‘bureaucrat’ please see the post of that name.

Then I spent the rest of the week handholding, babysitting, pleading and cajoling my custom’s broker into doing his job to deliver the information that I need that it very critical to the one and only real deal that I have on the table at the moment.

And this morning I wrote letters to both the municipal and state governments asking [again] in a slightly different way for their endorsement and support for my sandal-making company. My guys translated the letters to Spanish, I signed them, and then we faxed them.

Happy hour is now just 15 short minutes away so if you’ll excuse me, I have preparations to make.