Hablamos español.

Today started another round of Spanish classes. (With me as the teacher, in case you missed the previous post where I shared this information.)

I had such a stellar group last time, and they all wanted to continue right away. Claire is not doing her Level 2 class until August, so we started up a Level 1.5, a bit of a bridge class between Levels 1 and 2, hopefully a place where the students can get more comfortable actually using what they already know.

Too often with language learning, based on what I've seen and experienced first-hand, you learn a new topic, you might even understand it completely, but you stop using it when you go on to the next topic. By the time your daily-life Spanish has caught up to what you learned in class you're no longer confident in using certain skills. I'm hoping this 1.5 takes care of that a little bit for them by giving them another five weeks of studying and using what they know, rather than crowding the brain with too many new topics.

With the help of a couple of students spreading the word, I also managed to fill another Level 1 class, so it's a nice full morning of Spanish work.

With each class I teach, I get better at finding mistakes, better at hearing the errors as they occur rather than having to think about it. Teaching yoga taught me that the best way to learn something is to teach it to someone else, and these classes are driving that point home. They're making me study more, and look up things that I'm not sure about (whereas a non-teacher me might just say, "ehhh").

And it's so much fun. I remember being a high school student, watching a teacher lose control of her classroom and thinking I never wanted to be a teacher. But I've always loved teaching fitness and yoga, and now I love teaching Spanish. I think the age level of the students might have something to do with it.

Gone fishin'.

I do remember having a fishing pole when I was kid. I remember where it came from, and I even remember using it. I do not, however, remember ever catching a fish.

So, for our purposes, we have to say that the fish I caught yesterday was my first ever.

This photo, and all of today's photos, brought to you by Cat Mandell.

He was also the first fish to be caught that day, and the first to be thrown back. (I did catch many more throughout the day that were worthy of keeping.)

It was Cat's birthday on Wednesday, so the fishing trip was in honor of her. It was only that she should catch the biggest fish.

Mack and our friends Josh and Rachel came along. Brent was working and was unable to join us.

We left early, and I believe yesterday also marked the first time I've ever had an alcoholic beverage in my hand when the sun came up. (Just a little mimosa, folks. We're fishing here.)

The five of us went out on a little pontoon boat on Lake Gatun, about an hour or so from where we live. It was spoiled-little-girl fishing: our guide baited our hooks and took the fish of them for us. Awesome!

At the end of the day (1:30 or so), the five of us had caught 54 fish. They were expertly filleted and packaged, and we drove home, tired but happy.

I managed to escape serious sunburn (just a little on the chest), but I was still beat and opted out of the semi-weekly volleyball game. I was on hand, though, when George at the Bahia fried our fish for us, and a group of maybe 12 of us enjoyed it with Mack's spicy tartar sauce.

On my toes in Panama.

When I started ballet in January, I kind of thought I'd do it for just a couple of months. But after a couple of months, things started coming together, and I was hooked.

It hasn't gotten easier, per se, because the better you get the harder you can work, and there's always room to improve each step, each exercise. But I just love it. Like I typed about before, each class is a meditation in itself.  I've been going three times a week since February, and I've noticed some changes in my legs -- the way they look, feel, and move. It's much easier now to hold my turnout, and though I went through a phase where it was bothering my hip a bit, my teacher said that's normal and I've gotten past it for the most part.

The little girls in my class are pretty delightful. At first, I thought they thought I was weird (yes, that's a 31-year-old feeling oddly intimidated by a small pack of 10-year-olds), but it turns out they're kind of impressed by how high I can jump, and how coordinated I am. (I can't bend backward like they can, though. Not even close.)

I started out barefoot, since I didn't really intend to continue with the classes, but on our trip to the States I picked out my very own pair of ballet shoes, and it's nice to have them. They're already filthy and well-loved.

Since I spent a childhood wishing I could dance, something my teacher said to me a couple of months ago really meant a lot. She used to dance for the Russian and Canadian national ballets, and she has been teaching dancers -- and priming them to be professionals -- for years.

It was just me in class that day, and I had really improved. She remarked on how quickly I've learned, and said, a bit regretfully, that it was a shame I hadn't learned to dance as a kid, because if I had, I would almost certainly be a professional dancer today. (Or, I would have been one. At this point I suppose I'd be a bit past my tip-toe prime.)

Not to get all big-headed on you. I can see myself in the mirror during class. It's nothing to write home about, unless maybe you saw me on the first day and could see how far I've come. But still, her words went straight to the heart of the little girl in me who wanted to be a ballerina.

A goodness factory in the kitchen.

I have a couple of really good do-it-yourself friends who are also into clean, natural eating. I've always been a fan of smoothies with kale, and of cooking with real ingredients rather than the boxed stuff.

With their inspiration and some time on my hands, we've been taking it up a notch in this house.

First was the bug spray. It's so easy, smells good, and it only has three ingredients, every one of which you might put on your skin anyway: rubbing alcohol, baby oil, and cloves.

Brent's bug spray, bottled up and ready to use. Not pictured: how good it smells.

Then I started making my own coconut milk. It's wildly easy, so much cheaper than buying the cans, and it's all natural. (Which means you've got to drink it quickly, because it goes back quickly.) I buy a little bag of frozen but fresh-from-Panama unsweetened coconut. I blend it with about twice as much water for a few minutes, then I strain the pieces out. Delicious.

My friend Stephanie then dries the leftover coconut pieces in the oven to make coconut flour -- which can then be blended into coconut butter. So delicious. I haven't taken those steps yet, though, because I keep forgetting to buy parchment paper, and I'm not keen on leaving the oven on for four hours.

Brent started making his own sauerkraut, which is also very easy and nutritious. It's fun to do, doesn't take all that much time, and is very rewarding -- especially these days, as the "food" you find in your local grocery store gets more and more suspicious. Pesticides? GMOs? Preservatives? Artificial colors and flavors? Chemical sweeteners? It's lunchtime roulette, and making my own coconut milk is one way I make an effort to avoid playing.