One Blue Flower

Boy, did I take some pictures!

2010-02-17T23:05:00Z

The nice thing about technology (it's a hoot - when it works) and specifically photo technology is that after the initial cost of the camera, the lens's, the filters, the tripod, the bag, polarizers, remote shutter release - seems I forgot something, but anyway - it's almost free as compared to the old film days when you had to pay for the film, pay for the processing and so you only took really really important pics (like babies first burp etc).

As previously mentioned, we've gone down the photo path this year and invested seriously (oh yes, add the flash and closeup ring flash to the pre-free column) and the fun has begun. Of course the first few dozen shots were just to see what the heck this button does - - - boy that's bright, guess you should aim the camera the other way when you push that one! Then, once the basics are on board the serious, well as serious as I ever get, work began.

After taking pics of flowers, cats etc. we went to Tlaquepaque shopping last week and I shot 250 pics, threw out about 50 immediately, then narrowed it down to 134 that tell the story and used my photo album software to put them out on the blog site - but, I wasn't very pleased, they seemed kind of hohum, small and fuzzy - FUZZY, after what the new cam cost?

After some study and head scratching I realized I needed to post the pics in a higher resolution which did improve things. But still not really showing off the attributes of the new camera (obviously couldn't be me?) So, I decided to try Flickr (online photo albums) which probably many of you have used or viewed at one time or another. The free account seemed simple enough, just sign up and have fun - yeah, "simple" and fun?

Well, it's owned by Yahoo and so immediately you have to have a Yahoo email? - now, I have literally something like 80 current email addresses for various reasons with the 360west.com account and I have, in the past, had several Yahoo email accounts, but of course they're shut down after a period of non-use, but the system holds onto the name for ever and ever it appears because when I tried each of them it said "sorry, not available, someone already has that one" - and I'm yelling at the computer "IT'S ME DUMMY, THE NAME IS MINE" - to no avail.

So, after a half hour of frustration I finally came up with a name it accepted. Then they want to know all about you? - hey, if I wanted you to know, I'd have told you up front! Ok, some info was given. Then you need a "screen name" and again, all my usual names were taken (because I've already used them - duh?) they suggest some like bouncingbabyboy, or ripplerapplerumple498 etc, I finally managed to put in some hyphens and get one I can remember to work - I mean really, could there actually be 497 bouncingbabyboys?

Then we get to the upload part where you patiently wait while 134 pics are uploaded. The next trauma came when I looked at them and realized they were totally scrambled from the order they were in, not in alpha sequence nor date of upload or capture etc. and I could not find the button to cause that to happen - so, I did the next most obvious thing, I went downstairs and fixed some lunch and cogitated on it for a time.

Of course I eventually figured out how to bend it to my way of thinking, or more likely, learned what it had in mind and we came to an agreement to more or less do it my way (as Frank sang).

All that being whined about, I uploaded a second album of random pics taken around the back yard, so they're both in the Photo Projects 2010 column to the left and labeled "Tlaquepaque 2010 and Backyard in Feb" (real original huh?). When you open the albums there is a little square button at the bottom right of the screen which will blow the slide show up to full screen so you get the full effect - I hope.

Enjoy, lots more to come this year, the tools are falling into place and like I said "it's almost FREE" now that I've mortgaged my SSI for the next year?

PS: I took another 200 of the kittens playing on their scratching post play thingy - but I won't bore you with those.

When does a hobby, or a labor of love, become a pain in the tail?

2010-02-05T15:18:00Z

Many of us have favorite projects that add to our lives in rewards of accomplishment and even altruistic gifts to others, but when do we cross the line of love and fall into obsession and it becomes a pain? Well, there is no delineated line in the sand (or scratched on the tile floors in my case) and it varies from day to day, season to season. Today I'm thinking of two things, the weather station and photography. Both qualify!

The weather station started as do many things with a simple idea and a few questions. In Texas I had some of the basic components of a station cobbled together over the years and I enjoyed tinkering with them. Of course back in '06 I had made the decision to move to Mexico, and over the course of time as I communicated with residents of the Lake, I discovered there was no weather station at the lake. Apparently at one time there was an official station but it had long since disappeared and now the nearest recording weather station was at the airport in Guadalajara, some 30 miles N and on the other side of a range of mountains. Often the temps and conditions vary significantly from the Lake weather which is more protected and moderated by the large body of water.

In December of '06 I decided it would be fun to create a website and bring it down with me to capture local readings and share with others, either in residence, or just wannabee-in-residence folks from Canda and the US primarily - if anyone was actually interested. I thought up, and acquired, the domain chapalaweather.net and purchased an entry level wireless weather station and started into creating the web site. It's gone through countless generations of change and evolves sometimes daily as opportunities arise.

Last year a new station was acquired and smuggled into MX to upgrade the original system. Next a UV recording instrument was added and a webcam to capture a pic of our little world - do we begin to hear the footsteps of "waaay too much fun" yet? Each in turn, beyond it's cost, brings new challenges in programming and maintenance of the website. The rewards are totally non-monetary and often consist of meeting someone for the first time and in conversation finding they like the station, or an email saying "thanks".

A few times I looked at the number of times people check (hits) the web site and was surprised as it was in the hundreds and even spiked over a thousand during the rainy season and in the late Summer as snowbirds look longingly at spending the winter here. I also noticed the Fall spike in some of my photo albums of flowers etc. So we bumped along merrily oblivious to others, just doing our little things here at the compound that define our self created responsibilities.

This is the dry season and our average rainfall from Jan through May is 2.1", both of the past years have been less. This year on the last day of Jan it puckered up and began to rain which was almost a curiosity. Then the next day, the next and people started to get spooked, first because it was raining during the day (it's not supposed to do that) and that it was raining in Feb? - must be global hooha. On about the 4th day of rain it was getting chilly, without solar to warm us during the day the houses cool and get a bit nippy.

Day 5 and it was still raining and the cats had been indoors for days now, the outside cats had taken up residence on the covered terraza out back and at one point 3 adults and 4 kittens were all crammed into an old VCR box keeping warm as they snoozed (I thought about just folding the flaps in, taping it shut and shipping it to a friend in CO). Finally the sun broke through about 11am and life began to return to normal. However I had checked the daily hits on the weather site recently and was surprised to see an average of 3,000 a day with occasional spikes. So, when I checked during the rain it was up to 5,000, then 7,000 and yesterday 9,183? - who would have imagined. I guess getting 6.2" of rain already this year is of interest, last year that didn't happen until June 23rd.

Now it's getting scary because it's actually becoming serious and I got an email yesterday inquiring how a local solar company could advertise. You mean like actually pay me pesos? That was never a plan or thought, first of all it now is becoming a pain, an actual "job" that requires time and responsibility. More than that it could be a problem as actually making money is a problem on both sides of the border regarding taxes etc. And mostly I never started down this path to actually create something that consumes my time or resemble "work"? - how the heck did this happen?

Actually I had other plans for this year, I decided recently to get back to photography, this is such a different place with many things to be captured. I used to do some things 30 years ago, but had long since laid down the film cameras (well, actually stuffed them in an old Army gas mask bag) and taken to digital. I have a small pocket camera that I had bought for Chris and a better one I brought down with me when I moved. But, they lacked the abilities to take special pics, closeups of stuff, nightime shots, 7 cats in a box, you name it. So, I researched and invested in a new DSLR - digital single lens reflex Nikon.

Getting it down here was the first challenge. As it turned out a friend of my neighbor was coming down from Canada to visit and so the new "tool" (because we're getting serious) was shipped to a holding place in Michigan, picked up and smuggled into MX as his camera and all went as planned.

Next began the challenge of figuring out what all the bells and whistles do, remembering or relearning all the facets of shutter speeds, aperture openings etc. - which will take some time. Already this new, refound old, project has become an obsession. I've decided for the investment it needs to be serious, so I'm going to consciously carry the camera a lot more, stop and capture images of my world and hopefully learn composition etc.

The website? - yes, it's sort of become Max the Weather Cat and my signature and will continue, but we're going for the imaging thing this year, so stay tuned and see what happens, the first "installment" is in Photo Projects 2010, enjoy.

It's not a bribe, you're just buying breakfast - for a week?

2010-01-18T18:00:00Z

It seems adventures come in clusters - so, the latest was an encounter with one of our local traficos this morning who was looking for someone to buy him breakfast - for a week?

Mexico is legend for mordida, the bite, the bribe and in a way it's understandable, the policía are paid so little it's a temptation to "supplement" their meager income with "contributions" from fat cat gringos. Generally Mexico is trying to move away from that practice and that image, but the main cure for that is for the victims to simply say "no" - and of course I didn't a year ago out in the middle of nowhere, but I digress.

So, there is a somewhat concerted effort, at least locally, to not encourage the practice by simply insisting the officer write the ticket, actually it's illegal to bribe a policeman, but it's hard to imagine that anyone has ever ever been arrested for attempting that! Today it was my turn to practice the "technique" of "just say no".

I was taking my neighbor downtown to join up with her painting safari to the coast and it was about 8:30 and the sun was directly behind me shining on the stoplights and making it nearly impossible to see which color was lit, or if any were lit. This is often the case that a bulb is burned out for weeks at a time and it's up to you to guess if it's the green or the red? - which is just a bit of bonus excitement while living here in paradise.

Just as I could see the light, and was basically at the intersection, it changed to yellow. Now, there is no excuse for that here because the green lights flash for a few seconds before they turn yellow, but as noted, I couldn't see the green or even if it was on? Anyway as I see the yellow, I also see one of our local traficos in his pickup watching and I said to Margaret - darn, looks like a bad Monday as I saw him pull out and turn on his lights. I was at the next intersection when he pulled up along side and motioned for me to follow him to the side.

As he was parking I pulled out my drivers license and reached for the envelope in the seat back pouch marked "muy importante" containing my import papers for the car and copies of my FM3 (which makes the import papers legal) and my passport. I greeted him with a smile and buenos días, he stuck out his hand to shake hands (it's an old Mexican trick to make sure you don't have a gun - I think).

I handed over the papers and of course we discussed the situation in different languages. I explained the sol was making it hard to see the lights (which is probably exactly why he was sitting there, waiting for a breakfast ticket). He went back to his truck and got his ticket book and said the ticket was going to be $550 pesos, about $55 and I said "no problema" and I would pay it. He explained it had to be paid in Chapala, I again assured him it was no problem and please give me the ticket.

Now, the gringo community keeps up with how much things should cost and I knew it was more like $10 and you get a 50% discount for paying within 5 days, but I didn't argue, I knew he had set a high price hoping I would "negotiate" - I had no intention of doing that and mentioned we were in a bit of a hurry and could he please write the ticket.

I think by then he realized I wasn't buying breakfast and handed back my license and paperwork and said "no ticket today" and I sort of questioned him and he repeated it. By this time Margaret was saying "oh, give him $200p and I ignored her hoping he didn't hear it and he motioned me to drive on - which I did immediately, laughing as we left the scene of the attempted hold up. I said to Margaret "are you crazy, I wasn't going to give him anything and he knew it".

I dropped her off at the studio, returned back home and our friend and a moto were comparing notes as I went by I smiled and waved - ah, it turns out to be a good Monday in MX, the sky is blue, the temp looks like it could hit 70 and ningún billete (no ticket). Now, all I have to do is figure out what the heck to do about the feline problem I've created?

More cat-tales from Tortillaville

2010-01-17T23:02:00Z

As noted at the end of last year we had discovered 4 new kittens and tried to make a nice place for them in the dog house only to be turned down flat by Mamasita, the old hag. She apparently moved them next door to Casa Nostra which is vacant and in the long run we decided it was a good thing - especially for us!

Mamasita continued to pretty much live here and eat at both places and we kept her well fed so she could nurse (as was our logic - misguided or not). Day before yesterday as Margaret and I were coming home I reached to open the gate and saw Mamasita and one of the tigers out front, obviously coming from Casa Nostra. She took off and left the little guy on his own, Margaret tried to catch him to no avail. Later he came into the compound under the gate and was holed up in the flower bed, so of course, we put out food for him and Mamasita promptly ate it - she definitely knows how to take care of #1 and the rest are on their own.

We figured he was the lone survivor, life with mom is tough, you live or die, there's not a lot of love or parenting. Now, Midnight has been exactly opposite, though she was inside, she was always with the kittens and taking care of them all the time and would lay with them and purr as they fed. She's had a hard time with her health with one malady after another and so she and I have lost count of the trips to the vet, but finally she's back to healthy and she's really been very good about being loaded in the carrier and trucked off to Pepe the vet.

Now that she's healthy, last week we had her spade so we don't have to do this again. After a day we allowed her to go out for really the first time in 3 months and we didn't know if she would stay or go back out into the wild. We also allow the kittens to play outside now and Midnight stayed close with them and comes in at night. When she's out she plays with them like the kitten she still is, something she never did before, I think she was so sick, then PG and sick, she really didn't feel like it. Now she runs and pounces with them, but is always mindful of where they are and remains protective and concerned. Mamasita on the other hand is very much a "hands off" mother.

Yesterday I saw the little survivor, but then another head poked up and so it looked like two survived and having brought them back into the compound we thought maybe she'd return to the dog house, so I opened it and put in some cardboard, but so far our generous offer continues to be rejected in favor of flower beds and 44 degree nights in the open.

This afternoon I went down to feed the cats at 4pm and Mamasita, and what I thought was another cat were laying on the door mat on the terraza. As I reached for the door handle I realized it wasn't another cat - it was a pile of little ears and tails, yes, all four have survived in spite of the old hag and now she's brought them back to my door step?

So, I took a pic, sent it to Margaret and said "looks like we're back up to 14"! Of course they're wild as the wind, one came and ate dry food, so I'm trying to figure out the "what and why" of Mamasita bringing them not only back to the compound, but literally to my door step? - yes I know, it's pretty dumb obvious, but I keep hoping there's another explanation I'm missing like she just brought them by to say goodbye as they move on? - well, it could happen you know, in a Disney movie maybe.

Good grief, and Margaret is heading for the coast tomorrow for a weeks long "painting safari" and I'm left holding the bag - of cats that is? And Margaret? - yes Margaret is always quick to rub salt into the wounds by reminding me that it's all my fault for feeding OW when I first arrived two years ago.

Rudolpho, my favorite con man

2010-01-04T20:52:00Z

We'll call him Rudolpho, or maybe just Rudy for short, because I don't know his real name, he looks like a "Rudolpho" and probably by now he's forgotten his real name anyway, Rudy is my favorite con man and I'm probably just one of his favorite suckers - you know the kind, we never learn, we just keep making the same mistakes again and again.

My first encounter with Rudy was at Pharmacia Guadalajara sometime last year, I had pulled into a parking space and looked down to get some change out of the center console, when I turned to open the door there he was, an almost cherubic round faced little Mexican fellow who was just standing there staring back at me with a pathetic destitute look on his face - now, that as an introduction was impressive. My window was open and he started his pitch, that day he was working his "you have a scratch, I fix for you" scam.

Not exactly being a stranger to parking lot scams (there are dozens) I brushed him off with the usual "no gracias, ho hoy" (no thanks, not today) phrase and proceeded to close the window and exit the car, he was just standing there like I'd stolen his last peso with a look on his face like "ok, I'm down, just go ahead, kick me again" - it was so genuine I basically laughed as I again said "no" and headed for the drugstore. When I came out he was still there, looking totally dejected.

Now, it's a well documented fact that animals can see the "sucker" sign on my forehead, but apparently little round faced MX con men can see it also. He proceeded to badger me and started pointing at what appeared to be scratches on the dark green paint of my Jeep. Of course the car was a bit (?) dirty and it was obvious the supposed scratches were behind the wheel well and were just patterns of muddy over spray, or dust which had dried. I continued to say no and he's pointing, so I reached down with my finger and wiped across one of the scratches to show it wasn't real. Of course this simply elicited an offer to wash the car. All the time he's keeping this serious face and I'm literally laughing out loud at his performance (and wondering why I'm even humoring him rather than driving away).

I say performance because this guy is a street performer, like a mime, his greatest asset is his face and "the look" he's perfected by obviously spending hours in front of a mirror practicing that dejected oh, poor me, look. I'd be willing to bet when he was born his Mother took one look at him and said something like "wow, this kid is going to be a money maker, a real con man, look at that face"! - and he's continued to practice and perfect it over the years to con guys like me. However, that day I got away clean.

The next encounter was at the pier where I park to walk up 2 blocks to pay the rent. Again, the same "hang dog" look and again the scratch routine. This time the car was clean and there was a minor surface scratch on the rear door post from a branch. For some inexplicable cosmic reason I was being charitable that day and again his performance is worth a donation. I asked ¿Cuánto cuesta? - (how much?). He said $100 pesos which is $10 and I said no, I'd give him $5 and we eventually decided on $8 - which of course was silly, but I went off to pay the rent and he went to work on the scratch.

When I returned I looked at it and the scratch was less evident primarily because he had used some compound which left horizontal scratches parallel to the original, more or less masking it and adding a bunch more? I said "that's a terrible job" and complained some and finally said ok and handed him $80 pesos, he saw a $100 peso note I had and pointed at it and started telling me he was hungry and I think his nina (little girl) was hungry and finally I gave him the $100p basically to get rid of him and headed home to get out the clear coat polishing creme to repair his damage, but, I was laughing as I left and shaking my head as much at his performance as my stupidity.

I've seen him another time or two at the pier and he remembers me (of course) now and it's "hey, mi amigo" etc. and I tell him "get away from the car, step back" etc., and I get the hang dog face.

Today I went to pay the rent and from the highway you go down Colon street (basically like Broadway, every town has one) which is narrow, I reach out and fold in my left mirror as it gets pretty narrow between the parked cars on the left and the utility poles on the right. As you bump along the 4-5 blocks to the pier you are often stopped by someone ahead stopping to let out or pick up someone, or some fool attempting to parallel park his car in an impossibly small space rather than walk an extra block. Then there are delivery trucks, although usually earlier in the morning, and you just patiently sit and wait for them to unload and move on, of course there was the day in Chapala when they were filling a propane tank on the roof, so traffic was blocked 3 ways for some time until it was full - you just wait.

As I was bumping along Rudy came to mind and I smiled and thought how he needed to improve his hang dog act as this is the new year and he needs new material. I pulled up and parked and no more got out of the car and - "hey mi amigo" from Rudy with open arms. I couldn't help but laugh and greet him with the usual bro handshake and he wants to wash the car, but I said no, I'd only be there a few minutes. Then he starts on a new routine, his little nina is muerto (died) and again with the face he's giving me a graphic description grabbing at his side, then his chest and then the praying hands beside the head to indicate she died. He said they took her to Guadalajara and the medicina cost $350 pesos, like that was a fortune, and he's wearing a football shirt that cost at least $200 pesos. But, what could I do, I got very solemn and said that was terrible and I was sorry.

So, this went on for a few minutes and it's hard to tell if she really died, or if he even has a little girl, or is even married for that matter? - but, the performance was good and after a minute or two I told him I was thinking about him and how he has that "hang dog" or perro (dog) look and I illustrated by hanging my head and looking down, he sort of laughed as I told him it looked good, but he needed to add to his performance. I told him in the United States we have a saying "man, that's cold" and again with my hand on his shoulder I demonstrated that and told him that when he asked to wash someone's car and they said no, he should give them one of his sad looks and say "man, that's cold". Again he smiled and almost for an instant looked a bit sheepish like he'd been caught, but that vanished in another instant.

Several times he'd wished me feliz navidad and feliz año nuevo and then he patted his stomach and said business wasn't good, so I dug in my pocket to get him $20 pesos, but had 50's and 100's in the clip so I pulled out $50p and handed it to him saying "and feliz navidad to you as well". as I'm putting the clip back on the bills he pointed to the $100p note and asked for it, of course I howled and said NO - and he laughed as well like "well man, it don't cost to ask".

If Rudy ever outgrows that face he's in trouble because he'll have to go to work in an honest job, but until then I'd bet he does ok and after all, it's still the season of giving and it's a great performance - but with him, he figures that goes all year round?

It's a "cat-tastrophe"

2009-12-30T00:31:00Z

It's a "cat-tastrophe" of the first order, the head (and tail) count of 10 gatos suddenly increased 40% yesterday to 14? - up to that point there was Max, Shorty, Sweet, Sour, Gray, Mamasita, Midnight and Tic, Tac and Toe - suddenly there was also uno, dos, tres, cuatro? Now, other than a petting zoo or a cattery, that's waaaaay too many gatos! But, I'm getting ahead of the story.

It really started 2 years ago when I fed OW, the local neighborhood cat so Max might have a friend - it grew from there as all good intentions often do. I've documented recent activities in capturing and hauling cats to the vet for "pruning" and some of those fiasco's. The last one was the old Mamasita who had generously brought Midnight, Sucio, Sweet & Sour and looked to be PG again, but then she slimmed down and spent most of her time on the terraza with the other moochers, so I rashly assumed I was either mistaken regarding her condition or she had lost them - in either case, good news, NO MAS GATITOS.

But, just to be sure, I had done a fairly thorough search of the estate (so I thought) including across the street where she used to live and found no gatitos (kittens). So, we were bumping along with about 8 too many cats, but Chris passed the "sucker" stamp to me and I was doing the best I could and Margaret is raising the terrible trio in the casita. Margaret returned from Christmas in the frozen North and Sunday evening we were sitting out in our little grass patch soaking up sun as is our custom. Adjacent there is a brick dog house with enclosed area which, of course, we never use. The propane tank is there and the house is filled with old plastic nursery pots, 3 old (and I'm sure priceless) pictures, an Olivetti typewriter, a stack of bricks complete with ant colony, some empty flour sacks, a deflated pool floaty and a roll of screen.

Over the past 2 years some of the pots were often knocked out of place and I assumed it was a 'possum or raccoon in residence and didn't bother further - you know, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. So, when Margaret said she thought she heard something in there I said it was probably the 'possum I had caught in the live trap a few days earlier and released only a few feet away - and thought nothing more of it.

The next morning, Monday to be exact, I heard her calling my name, it's a thing we do, she stands out front and hollers until I open the window by the computer room to see what is causing the racket. I could tell by the serious tone in her voice something was wrong, she wanted me to follow her toward the casita. We turned right at the grassy area and approached the dog house area. She pointed and said "there's a kitten in there". I told her she probably saw a baby 'possum etc. - you know how much they look alike? - of course I didn't want to hear "another KITTEN". We stood for a few minutes and a nose peeked out and it sure wasn't a 'possum - I was gob struck! MORE GATITOS? - the obvious answer was in front of us, so what to do?

Well, being the dumb gringos we are, rather than just walking away and forgetting about it we had to get down there and dig into the dog house. Let me put that another way - "I" had do get down and start dragging out stuff, first uno gatito, then dos and I thought I saw more movement and there was a roll of chicken wire about 3" in diameter and maybe 2' long with a tail sticking out one end? - I picked it up and looked in the other end and there was a dinky little tiger face looking back. I held it for Margaret to see the "face" end and then showed her the whole thing and said "we either have a gatito that's about a foot long, or two more! So, I got the pliers and carefully cut the retaining wire and unrolled it to reveal tres and cuatro - oh boy, ho ho ho all over me, just what we need, a sudden 40% increase in the tail count.

So, we're standing there holding 4 month old kittens as cute as all kittens are wondering what to do next. Well, the obvious thing (I did mention we're dumb gringos didn't I?) was to clean out the dog house - which again meant "me" while Margaret took care of the cats, you think a Jewish Grandmother is something? - wait until you meet an Irish Grandmother? I sprayed the spiders including one that was so big you could hear him walking - you think I'm kidding? - well, a horse goes clip-pa-ti-clip-pa ti-clop, as you hear it's four hoofs hit the ground, the sound I was hearing was clip-pa-ti-clip-pa-ti-clip-pa-ti-clip-pa-ti-clop as all 8 legs hit the ground - so, back to the house for the bug spray, fog the area and begin mucking out the junk, then the dirt and cementos from a disintegrated bag.

Next the stack of bricks revealing a colony of small ants who immediately attacked - more spraying, more dragging out of stuff until finally the lime green plastic pool floaty was extracted and the final dust and dirt were removed. Now, I have to say, this is a darn nice dog house, all brick, cement floor, tile roof and a nice arched entry. By now, we had filled a trash bag, hauled the rare painting to the front gate for disposal and the gatitos had scattered into the plant beds while we were busy - ah, just great.

We rounded up 2 easily, one was lost in some kind of dense ground cover and eventually found when he meowed and the final one was in a narrow dead end passage along side the dog house, in the far back corner behind some sort of unwanted small tree and a thriving bougainvillea. I headed for the bodega to get the limb whackers and as I began to cut I noticed what for an instant, I thought, was some sort of orange sized "fruit" being attacked by a bunch of small wasps. Of course it wasn't a "fruit" - that was me, el dumbo, it was their nest and that sent me scurrying to the house for wasp spray to ruin their day.

After a few minutes I resumed cutting and as I stepped into the narrow area to get gatito número cuatro I stepped on a huge thorn from the bougainvillea stalk which penetrated the sole and into the ball of my right foot eliciting an audible response from me - but, I got the kitten and now all 4 were in the carrier.

We decided to use the VCR box which as served Midnight's kittens well and lined it with a towel, put the 4 little beggars in it, pushed it back into the newly renovated dog house and sat down for a much needed rest.

After a bit, Mamasita came about 30' away and was meowing to indicate her displeasure with our efforts. But we had spent a couple hours making this a super neat new place with no insectos, no junk etc. and we felt she would appreciate our work once she inspected it and saw how happy her babies were in there.

I put away all the tools and cans of spray etc. and went home to take a shower. Within an hour came another request for my presence, Mamasita had already taken one to a new location - the thankless hag had no sense of where-with-all and her meows were not complaining - but calling the kittens to come to her.

I decided on a risky plan and told Margaret to go home and I'd watch. Mamasita called a second one out and I stealthily stalked them from a distance, sneaking along like the hapless Inspector Clouseau watching through tall pampas grass, peeking from behind the car, peering around palm trees, ducking and sneaking along as she led #2 toward the far wall. I circled around, at times standing or crouching motionless for a minute at a time as she watched. At that point something interesting happened, Sweet, one of her last pair came to help, they worked as a team to guide #2 to safety.

Finally I circled around back of the house and approached the area behind the old well and peered through and sure enough there they both were, the two gatitos huddled together. I went around the well and fought my way back into the dense maze of over growth of giant elephant ears laced with thorn studded vines. Old dead remains of the vines are none the less dangerous, at one point I was impaled on 3 different ones trying to dig into me - but I escaped with only a single 3" gash on one arm. Of course by that time I got back in there they had moved.

Later attempts to locate them was futile and again the next day it was unproductive as Mamasita watched from a distance. Margaret's feeding of the other two was progressing, but ultimately we decided it would be better to return the two to Mama and let they grow up wild. It's not a good thing, but that's life.

So, we put the two out and Mama came for them, but about that time the gardener started the blower and I was afraid they'd scatter and be lost, so we put them back in the carrier for a couple of hours until he left. Again we put them out and of course with a single meow from Mama they ran to her like a magnet. We watched her take them around front and she jumped up a tree and of course the little ones were lost, they can't climb a tree yet, but on the roof the tree overhangs I saw the other two. She must have carried them up there, who knows, but as a final bit of intervention I got the ladder, took the two up to the roof and united la familia. From there they can go on the old Casa Nostra roof and down steps and out, or maybe they'll find a home over there.

Of course it was sad, but probably a lesson learned in trying to out guess a mother gato and what she wants for her kids. I told Margaret maybe it will be a good thing and with all this she won't bring them back to the compound like previous offspring - Margaret's comment was "fat chance" - yes, I know, fat chance.

The Season of Giving & Ten Hungry Cats

2009-12-25T00:59:00Z

Ah, Christmas Eve, what better time to write a note about giving and receiving.

As kids we grew up receiving, this is the great time of the year, stuff under the tree etc., of course years ago we matured to realizing the giving was the better part of the process, the more expensive part not withstanding, but the better part. So, each year we approach this time with warmth in our hearts and good intentions in our hearts to give back some of what we have so generously received over the years. In MX it's easy to "give" as those around us are generally less fortunate in the great lottery of life.

During the year it's the custom to tip when kids or elderly bag our groceries and when the very young ones want to push our carts to the car and help load it into our SUV's, probably something they can only dream of ever owning.. And at the gas station they still pump the gas for you, so again you share a few pesos and more at this special time of the year knowing virtually every one of them have ninos (children) at home hoping and expecting something.

It is an odd paradox that somewhere along the way we have morphed the joy of receiving into the joy of giving and they become one in the same. Some time ago we began our "list" of those we want to share with at our Christmas time, our (and I include Margaret my neighbor) gardener Pedro and wife Lupe, the trash men who twice weekly relieve us of our unwanted refuse, Gustavo my pool guy who has a new daughter (nina) this year, Pepe our Vet who takes care of our four legged friends, Carlos and his helper next door who not only got rid of the roosters but have helped to gravel the road out front and other things. Of course there are a myriad of charities of worthy note and it's always good to just reach out and share a bit with others beyond our immediate friends and families.

Probably one of the greatest examples of feeling good about "giving" is to have 10 hungry cats looking at you for sustenance, not that they couldn't go out and make a living for themselves, but they have grown to depend on you as their source, there's old Gray, the alpha cat in the neighborhood, Shorty, main guy around the yard, Mamasita, Sweet, Sour, Max of course, then in the casita are Midnight, Tic, Tac and Toe. They're all thankful (I guess?) for their meals and not demanding (much), always forgiving and non-judgmental and a joy to see each day. It's that odd symbiotic relationship developed over the centuries that bonds us to these creatures who could do very well without us, but for some reason we can't do without them.

So it is this Christmas, we share the joys of what we are given, and we enjoy the company and companionship of others and the time we are given.

To each and all, Blessing of the Season.

PS: One great blessing was "received" this very day, Christmas Eve, Margaret got her new passport (which she promptly laid a big smooch upon) so she can return to our sunny climes the day after Christmas which will be a blessing to us all.

Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is a new passport!

2009-12-14T21:45:00Z

Of course I'm way overdue for a new "story" and so here it is - at least as it stands up until now, but stay tuned, there may be further chapters - sort of like an onion, you peel off layers and sometimes you cry.

This is really a story with a warning to anyone with a passport, and more and more of us have them these days. Passports are another of those nuisance revenue generators required the big government these days, terrorists don't need them, illegals don't need them, but gosh help Joe upstanding citizen that looses his. You used to be able to go to MX on your birth certificate and to Canada with a smile and a wave - those days are history, now you WILL need a passport to get back home and more than likely you will go through a number of checkpoints manned by guys with big automatic weapons and serious faces (or in some cases in MX, ski masks which can be a whole other level of pucker factor) depending on where you travel and what or who they're looking for that day.

The main character in this story is Margaret, yes, my neighbor whom hates to be named, but I'm tired of saying "my neighbor did this, my neighbor did that" - so, this is Margaret's "great adventure".

First, Margaret worked for Air Canada for many years and has literally traveled the world for 40 years and so qualifies as an expert seasoned traveler, she has never lost her passport - until now. On her return from Canada in Nov apparently her passport was lifted from an open valise as she was boarding in MX city for the Guad return flight. When she got home all she had was her FM3 MX visa, no passport, so began the round of festivities (are we having fun yet???) which continue as we speak.

She immediately called the Canadian Consulate to report it and, as instructed, we found our way to it's location near Centro Guadalajara (always an adventure in itself) to begin the long and tortured "process". She received paperwork and instructions on required documentation. Now, we all have copies of all our papers, so those existed for starters. Back here at lakeside she had to file a "police" report for documentation. Well, of course the local Chapala police could care less about a passport stolen in MX City. Next she went to the lawyer who does our FM3's as hers was due to expire Dec 13th - yes, you do need your passport to renew it, enter problem #2. From the lawyer she went to the Ministerio Publico, sort of a State's Attorney. Without dragging you kicking and screaming through all the details, it took several trips, several hours including being stonewalled by an employee dressed in Goth, with all the personality of the dead, and finally another visit accompanied by the lawyer to get the report filed. This was on Thurs after the first trip to the consulate the previous Friday.

Included in the mix was the consulate wanting to see her birth certificate and/or citizenship papers. Margaret was born in Ireland and immigrated to Canada as a child. Generally, unless you live here, as I do, you don't have those sorts of original papers with you for obvious reasons. So, this brought on the need for personal references to validate she's actually a Canuck and trustworthy (I guess?).

Keep in mind all this is to get an emergency "Get Home Free" 2 day pass! Yes, the goal was to acquire an emergency document that would allow her to travel for 2 days only (to be specified) one way only, back to the great frozen North to apply for a whole new golden passport. Enter kink #3; because as a retired airline employee she flies standby and isn't guaranteed a seat and she does not have, or get, an actual ticket - which was obviously something totally new to the consulate. So, what to do? - well, write a letter saying "I don't have my BC with me because it's in my house in Elliot Lake Ontario" and write a letter saying "I don't have a ticket because I fly at the mercy of Air Canada". Max and I printed them with multiple copies.

The Ministerio had said to return the following Weds to get the certified report (5 copies necessary). In the mean time she was downloading forms to "declare" the loss of the passport, Max and I printed as necessary.

On Weds she returned to the Ministerio and finally got the official paperwork (which is a story in itself).

Finally we loaded the half ton of paperwork into the Jeep and headed to the Consulate two weeks ago Friday for a personal interview and more forms that needed filling out. From there the, now voluminous, file was sent by diplomatic courier pouch to Ottowa to be recorded, prayed over, blessed and hopefully granted a divine dispensation (or whatever they do in Ottowa). We made our appt for the 3rd visit to the consulate last Friday for issuance of the 2 day "get out of jail" pass so she could travel today the 14th to Toronto.

The 3rd trip to the heart of the beast was successful and she got the (now) cherished document and a caution that Air Mexicana and MX security might not look kindly on the documents. Ok, well what else is there to do, but smile and press onward through the fog. Of course this was all interspersed with normal life if you can call trapping wild cats and taking them to the vet for appropriate "pruning" and raising 3 kittens that could charm the socks off Attila the Hun normal while destroying everything in sight. Add in social events of the season and the schedule has been full to overflowing. Of course the stress was mostly out in the casita, I'm just the printer and driver, so I smile a lot, but I do have a vested interest in making sure Santa delivers in Canada and she returns, or I'm not only stuck with the 3 kittens, but more important I'd loose a source of great spaghetti sauce.

A parallel course of events was unfolding in the frozen N. It turns out she has to have her original birth certificate and papers to get the new passport. These are in her home in Elliot Lake which is a plane trip from Toronto to Sudbury and a 100 mile drive through the snow belt. Fortunately her friend and neighbor was told where to search and did find the documents last weekend.

SUMMARY REVIEW: Stepping back for a high level view, the facts are as follows: Margaret now has no passport to reenter Canada, only a 2 day pass, her MX visa expired yesterday and she needs the passport to get another visa or even a "FM3 letter of passage" allowing her to reenter MX on her return, so she's more or less a lady without a country - or at least one that is glad to see her. We talked last night and she wasn't even going to take the expired FM3 visa with her, but my partners from Albq found out the hard way $$$ you have to turn in visas, even Tourist and even if expired, so I suggested she take it along just in case.

Monday 6am we head for the aeropuerto and it was absolutely packed so by the time she got to ticketing she missed the early flight to MX City, but there are at least 2 more that would get her to MX City in time to catch the Air Canada flight to Toronto. Flying from here to MX City is a domestic flight, so no immigration/passport/visa stuff yet.

I came home and proceeded with the days events and was having a bit of lunch about 1:30 when the phone rang. It was Margaret thanking me for the FM3 advise. In MX city it had taken something close to 3 hours and 3 failed attempts to get through security/immigration and only on the 4th was she cleared to board Air Canada. I can't even tell you the convoluted series of misadventures going from office to office, back out of security, back in through security to find another person who would hopefully help etc. One of the first things they asked for was her FM3 which fortunately she had. She explained it had expired, but that was ok because she could officially turn it in and then when she comes back after Christmas she'll return on a Tourist visa and start over on a new FM3 (which reminds me I need to get a letter from our Rental company telling that she is actually living here?). If she had not had the FM3 to turn in, it's almost certain she'd be returning here with no way to get home for Christmas, no passport and no visa - truly "without a country of refuge".

Back in MX City, one "lady" MX immigration security agent would simply not accept her paperwork and turned her back twice even though she did exactly as instructed and returned to that checkpoint after completing the "scavenger hunt" and talking to other officials who sent her back to "brick wall". Finally she found a young man who once again took her back to the starting point, managed to get her paperwork officially stamped and told her to avoid, at all costs, the security agent who apparently runs on her own set of rules (not at all uncommon in MX). This time she managed to get through to the boarding area from where she called me.

About now she's at 30,000' where it's 30 degrees below zero, about 4 degrees cooler than Toronto? - but, she's headed for "home" and Christmas and hopefully Santa's big scene.

Back on the ground her friend and neighbor who found the original documents is expressing them and they are also airborne (we hope) to Toronto to start the application for a new passport tomorrow hopefully in time for Santa to bring her a shiny new golden passport for Christmas to facilitate her return to the sunny climes of MX the 26th. But, who knows, there are still many potential knotholes to be dragged through and this may not be the last chapter.

The moral of this little adventure is that if you have a passport, or get one for a sunny vacation etc. treasure it like the gold it is and protect it with your life or you'll use up years of your life trying to straighten out the mess you'll find yourself in.

Of course Max and I take this time to say Merry Merry Christmas to one and all and best wishes for a prosperous New Year 2010.

Deep maroon paint (don't thin it) and gray and white gatitos !

2009-11-11T16:16:00Z

Ok, a bit more on recent activities and we'll start with another of my painting projects. I have been adding some character to the house one wall at a time, it was all yellow all the time and much like living in a cube of butter - so, I'm fixing that. Of course the initial "statement" was the big wall I painted deep lavender, no flinching there (it just took several coats to get it done). Encouraged by the transformation and not discouraged by the owners the stairway was next and I began to develop a technique of mixing down a color, adding some Selador (sealer) and sponging it on over the yellow. It usually takes 3 coats, but the results are very good, so after the green I did the main upstairs room in an orange/red and then some of the lavender on a couple walls here in the bar/office area, all with good results.

Now, the truth be told, my neighbor, the artist, helped me with the colors, I'm not color blind, just color stupid. I suppose it's no big surprise being the basic sort of guy I am, I understand red, white and blue, I understand red, white and green (MX flag), I've done black, white and gray etc., but the nuance of taupe, puce and mauve elude me totally. So, with my neighbor as a crutch I looked at the wall and ceiling beam in the bar and it really "needed" some help and so in our recent paint acquisition safari to get the casita colors I took a piece of fabric from a picture I made and tried to match it - well, it wasn't that close, but I figured "what the heck, it's color and this IS Mexico - go with it".

The color was somewhat of a deep reddish maroon (the key word here is "reddish") and while not very close to the fabric scrap I decided to use it in the bar. Mixing up my witch's brew I masked and attacked the wall. I've learned to not worry about the first coat, it always looks pretty anemic - this one was on que. In fact, it looked fairly pink, not "pretty" pink, just fairly - I wasn't concerned. A second coat brought out more character, but at this point another factor came into play, surface texture. This house is a composite of many years and many workman and each room, sometimes each wall, and even parts of each wall, vary in texture from lumpy/bumpy to spikey/pointy and a surface the devil could love.

The wall in question was of the latter, spikey and as I sponged, it was shredding the sponge leaving a trail of foam fragments below my work - I wasn't worried. A third coat had now gone from pink to red, not the maroon I expected/wanted, but just the base red and it wasn't flowing over the bumpy parts leaving yellow exposed, it was filling all the little hills and valleys with a deepening red? - now I was getting concerned, but maybe it would dry a different color - it did, DEFINITELY REDDER. I tried adding one more coat to no avail?

It's not a bad color, but not what I was looking for, but it is what it is red wall in bar

and Chris's quilt looks good on it, so not all was lost.

Next I eyed a similar half wall and overhead beam in the bedroom for the next project. After not being able to match the maroon fabric I took it with me on the recent trip to TX and gave it to Home Depot to "read" with their computer - they couldn't read it? But, we picked a color that looked close and I bought a Qt. to smuggle back into MX.

Thinking I knew what went wrong on the last "reddish" wall I first ran sandpaper over the wall lightly to knock off the spikes and then sealed it with a coat of Selador (one of my first mistakes). I began the mixing process and applied the first coat - very pink, but I wasn't worried, you can't fool me. I applied a second coat which began the shift to red? - but, I still wasn't worried. I applied a third coat and it deepened the red, now I was beginning to worry as the yellow base had now mostly disappeared, no bumps, not much variation, just a deepening red.

To shorten the story I applied coats four and five with little change. I think because of the base coat of Selador it couldn't soak into the yellow base and each subsequent coat of sponged Selador/color simply added a somewhat glossy deepening translucent color, something like multiple layers of candy apple (but not as pretty in this case).

At coat six (yes) I got out the brush and laid it on heavy - little change. So, finally in desperation I got the can of deep maroon and put on a coat of pure color, but only to the underside of the beam and end of the wall (just in case) - it was strange, when you made a brush stroke it looked blue, but when it dried it took on an ox blood color? I pulled the tape, cleaned up and went to the other room to organize my sock drawer.

After thinking about it for a couple of days I decided to paint a coat of white on the underside of the beam and start over. To make a four coat story short - it's not really much different. So, it is the color it is and my conclusion is that red based paints react differently when thinned.

red wall #2

It's a bit different and more what I wanted, so I may repaint the wall white and do it again, but not this week.

Part dos (2) of the story is gatitos - yes, kittens. In the Spring two kittens arrived, the little female was totally black, silky long hair, except the toes of her right back foot are white. I called her Midnight as the darkest part of night beginning to lighten to a new day. I suppose I should have called her "5 minutes past Midnight" - but? So, even though wild she was more friendly and purred on the spot when I fed her (yes, amazing how that works, that was Chris's talent, she could teach any animal to eat).

Next is a lesson in animal husbandry - cats can (and do) get pregnant at a VERY early age. My neighbor kept saying "she's getting a bulge" and I kept saying "but she's only a baby" - and of course she was correct (what would a bachelor know?). So, the poor little thing was just a baby herself and now she's starting to waddle and while somewhat tame, she wasn't a lap cat by any stretch of the imagination, however she seemed to take a liking to me.

While I was gone to TX/CO my neighbor, who was taking care of everyone, put out some boxes around the pool area flower beds hoping she would take to one of them as a nest rather than have the kittens outside the compound. On the Friday after my return I noticed some "movement" in her mid body and figured it was probably contractions (well, I've heard about them). I summoned my neighbor and we decided to contain her in the bodega where she was screened in. We put out the usual VCR box and towels etc. and about 4pm we began the birth watch, well, actually my neighbor did, Max and I went to watch TV - well, isn't that proper protocol? - let me know when it's over, 'ya hear.

Maybe around 6pm the first one was born and, Midnight is such a small cat and this being her first (and ONLY, I guarentee) litter, we were worried, but all was progressing as things have for tens of thousands of years without our help for the most part. She had four and seemed to do all the right things and about 9pm we decided it was over. The next morning one didn't make it, so three rather sizable kittens with very similar gray and white marking (immediately identifying the father Shorty, before his trip to the vet) were doing fine.

We kept her in the bodega for several days and then moved her to the casita where my neighbor could fawn over them like any Grandmother would, all was well.

Then on the 30th of Oct my neighbor had to return to Canada leaving Max and me with nursery duties? All I remember about that is 42 years in the past, you feed them, you change them and tell the mother how pretty her kids are - right? Well, don't have to feed or change this bunch, so that narrows it down some, but Max is even more a bachelor than me. This morning when we went over to feed Midnight and clean up the litter box etc and Midnight (who has now totally transformed into a lover and is approaching lap cat status) rubbed against Max, I guess just wanting love and admiration for the little ones, he remembers her as a kitten whom he used to play and wrestled with and started batting at her like he used to? - I hollered at him "MAX" - he looked at me like "what did I do????".

So, here we are with 3 poco gatitos who are cute for sure, probably long hair, who knows what happens next? Larry, Moe & Curly

So it goes in Tortillaville.

Year 3 in the land of Topes and Tortillas

2009-11-06T16:34:00Z

Yes, we're still here and we've rolled into our third year here in the land of topes (speed bumps) and tortillas.

I see that it's been a time since we last got together and much (and yet little) has happened, seems that's the story of retirement, at least as practiced by Max and me, we're always busy but we don't accomplish much. In our last adventure we were working on the casita arch and front wall which is a continuing project even now. Let's see if I can fill in some highlights of the project.

After two coats of paint, and a non-terracotta door it was looking better and was about time to mount the gate bell and it's cradle. The maestro noticed some letters on the old bell and on further examination it read C.S. Bell Co, Hillsboro, OH, 1886. I looked them up and this would have been in the first years of their business. I'd bet the bell has been here for probably 40 years and so for 80 years before that who knows where it's been and what its seen?

The paint job wasn't great, the guys were pretty good brick layers, but definitely not painters and there were streaks, but hey, it is what it is. That was until the Rental Manager saw the pics and ordered another coat of paint and so we saw our chance to go dark (finally) and that looks much better. Now the orange door really didn't look good so we visited the paint shop again and found a really great lavender color and that looks much better, especially with the darker walls. That leaves only the big entry gate which will be a bear to paint and takes us to the next part of our adventure - a trip to the homeland.

The big entry gate is a composite of two things, a wrought iron main "gate" with scroll work etc. and then a metal "privacy" panel behind it. Currently the wrought iron is mostly black and needing some help, the panel is the rosa color from the previous casita color. The gate as originally structured has the privacy panel hinged so it could open in, separating it from the wrought iron. Somewhere along the line it was tack welded to the wrought iron so now to paint the two components separate colors will be a big time. Add to it the rust in some areas needing attention. So, I made an executive decision and told the paint crew they were done and that I wanted to bring back some rust sealer I could get in TX before the gate was painted.

On Oct 5th, exactly 2 years to the day since driving into Casa Abuelo I drove out on my way to Texas and Colorado. As with most trips I had been buying (and buying) and shipping stuff to my good friend George in Austin so I could bring it back down. I had also inadvertently allowed myself to get conned into taking a "box" of art supplies, for a lady artist who was moving to NYC for a year, to her daughter in Austin. This complicated things significantly as it ended up being 4 boxes and a large portfolio and the mother didn't know exactly where her daughter lived in Austin etc (can we say "dingy"?). I decided to haul the stuff to storage and dump it there and if the artist ever figured out where her daughter was I'd tell her to contact George and meet him at storage.

As it turned out the address for the daughter came through a couple days before I left so I planned to drop off the boxes at storage and continue on to see Mom in Denver and deliver the supplies later on my way south. I did the 700 miles to Laredo (where it was 103 degrees), spent the night and continued on to storage, dumped the boxes and stopped in town to get a burger at Wendy's. My trips consist of eating at all my favorite junk food spots I don't get down here (and amazingly I lost 3 lbs?). As I reached to shut off the car a puff of hot air from the AC hit me. When I came out it was super hot, not vent, but full heater. Now, it was cloudy, but 87 degrees in Marble Falls and AC would have been great, even vent air, but with neither all I could do was open the sun roof and a window and drive toward Lubbock - it was going to be a long long hot day, but I reasoned that it would be cooler in CO, but in a week back at Laredo it was going to be real toasty.

About an hour later I tried the AC again (being the optimist I am - and desperate) and it worked? Apparently it froze up and it automatically goes on super hot to defrost itself - wow, modern technology, what a hoot! (which also begs the question, if it's smart enough to thaw itself out, why isn't it smart enough not to freeze up?) The trip through the Hill Country to Abilene and on up to Lubbock was the greenest I'd ever seen, it was gorgeous and not a single tope.

I guess I've been gone long enough now to really notice how vastly different the two countries really are, the entire look and feel, the scale and magnitude were totally different. When I checked into the hotel in Lubbock (Texas Tech country) I noticed the kid at the desk looked at me a bit funny and then I realized I was wearing an orange UT football shirt (we beat them this year as payback for killing our championship last year). Oh well, but one thing I did notice everywhere in TX, CO and even NM was that they apparently didn't get the "there's a recession" memo because everything is booming like crazy, Lubbock has grown a whole new city to the west.

Denver with Mom was great and friends as well, but I definitely did NOT need AC, in fact I had planned to head S after lunch on Saturday and it was 19 degrees and snowing that morning, so I decided mid morning to head out. Of course being from MX where they never heard of windshield washer anti-freeze I had water and the washers froze until somewhere in New Mexico.

Back in Marble Falls I headed for George's warehouse and called the artist's daughter who, of course, was on the far east side from where I was, but I just wanted to dump the stuff and get on with my life. Side story: it turns out the "artist" (a dingy for sure) paints sort of abstract stuff and her technique is to paint with her eyes closed, then put the pics in the shower? Let's just say that after meeting the daughter "the nut doesn't fall far from the tree" - but I did my good deed.

I had bought a number of technology toys including a new weather station and some additional sensors for my security system. Getting things back across the border consists of unboxing everything and mixing it in with other old stuff from storage, so I spent some time unboxing and testing things to make sure they worked, if you're going to return stuff you don't want to try it from MX.

My shopping list included some new shoes and several things from Home Depot including a Qt. of deep maroon paint (more on this in another segment). Home Depot is an old man's curse, even though we have them here they just don't stock the same way. For instance, I have several timers for fuentes (fountains) etc. and here they cost $15 or more. As I rounded a corner there, they were $3.97 - I bought two, they were small and several other things including the deep maroon paint they couldn't match down here. And yes, I did find my rust sealer for the front gate - yet to be applied.

One of the items shipped into George was for my neighbor, a GPS with MX maps. She said "try it out" and that took some time to learn and program for the trip home (even though I've done it several times on my own). After 3 days of poking through storage and never yet finding my original computer disks for XP etc.

I loaded the Jeep with everything I could stuff in and Friday headed for Laredo via San Antonio to have lunch with my "little sister" Vicki. We had a nice chat and I was telling her a story about MX and electric hand grinders came into the story and I realized I'd forgotten to retrieve mine from storage. Everything is more expensive here in MX and she suggested I get one at - where else? - Home Depot just across the parking lot and around the corner. I did at a cost of $30, I checked exactly the same one in Home Depot in Guad yesterday for $45.

Saturday morning early I hit Customs and decided to "declare" the new weather station as it was still in its original box. Coming S on Saturday was a mistake, I was in the middle of a bunch of MX pickup trucks stacked to the max with Mexicans moving back home. There was some concern also as all the Customs (Aduana) officials were replaced in August due to wide spread corruption etc. and we're still watching to see if they're going to get tougher.

I had a complete list of everything in the Jeep and presented it to them, they looked at it, asked what the value of everything in the car was and I did my usual - "gee, I don't know??? - maybe $200" (oops, forgot the 3rd 0) and they said OK, pay a small duty and I'm off. Seriously, I probably had nearly $2K in new items in the car plus 9 storage boxes of stuff and more poked around the edges.

At about 20 miles S of the border you hit the big Aduana check point and you either get a green or a red light to "stop and chat" - I got a green and was off like a herd of turtles heading for Monterey and the dawn - yes, I hit customs a bit after 5am so I can be home for supper.

There was a bit of potential adventure woven into the trip which essentially ended at this point. When I leave MX I'm supposed to have my passport stamped out (which no one ever does) and also my FM3 visa stamped out. Additionally we have "import" stickers on our cars which you're supposed to turn in at the border and have a new one reapplied when you reenter MX as well as getting your passport and visa stamped back in the country. All of which makes sense - however, this IS Mexico.

My car import also contains the trailer and so I can't turn it in without the trailer and I'm sure not hauling the trailer to the border to get a sticker removed. Also, the last time I left, I stamped out, but when I presented my visa for reentry the guy said "no, you don't need a stamp"? So, I elected to not stamp out either passport or visa this time, nor turn in the sticker and just drive back in like I'd never been gone.

There was the potential of being stopped at the Aduana checkpoint S of Nuevo Laredo, but otherwise they don't know you ever left the country. However, by declaring, there was a record of my stopping at Customs, but hey, take a chance, if you get stopped play dumb, they're used to dumb gringos.

The GPS was doing a good job keeping me on the toll roads and we made good time across the endless empty miles of MX. I hit maybe two Federale check points where well armed Federales ask you where you're going and seeing you're a Gringo and heading for Chapala you're waved on through. Also a military check point somewhere along the way waves you through and you're on your way.

I wanted to take a new route to bypass a very ugly stretch of road by Lagos de Mareno and instead go through Aguascaliente and the GPS complained loudly for about 4 miles and finally realized it might as well go my way and proceeded to give great directions. Just S of Aguascaliente there is a big Federale checkpoint, again with well armed guys you don't fool with. All was going well until I made another executive decision to turn, and it was wrong, and I spent the next hour bumping through small villages, over topes, on Saturday and finding myself at one point in a VW caravan with 8 beetles, on Transporter and a Thing?

Eventually I got back on track but did eat up valuable time and frazzled my nerves considerably - after 9 hours on the road, all you want is to be home. Analysis of the GPS after the fact indicated the new route is about 30 miles further, but, if done correctly, would be much better - oh well, next time. It normally takes 12 hours to drive, this took 12 hours 11 minutes and boy, was I glad to get home, some 4,711 miles later. For two days after, every time I sat down in the recliner my hands automatically reached out as if to grip the steering wheel.

The next day I unloaded the car and stacked it inside the front door and chipped away at the pile for days fitting it into the house here, installing new stuff and storing things. I brought 3 boxes marked "kitchen" and when spread out in the kitchen I almost didn't have space for all of it. The really bad news is that there are 24 more boxes in Storage marked "kitchen"? - I knew Chris's kitchen in TX was big, but apparently bigger than I thought and I gave away a bunch of stuff?

As this is getting way long, I'll keep the other two stories of the deep maroon paint, and Max and me and the gato (cat) nursery duty - oh ya, until later!

How many people does it take to - - -

2009-09-19T20:51:00Z

An old adage says "necessity is the mother of invention" to which I'd like to add "and laziness (efficiency) is the father".

I've often written about some of the differences in our cultures. In America we pride ourselves in doing things faster, bigger, more efficiently and therefore more cost effectively - I'd have to say those are pretty much alien concepts in Mexico. Oh, it's not that they don't understand them, they just don't accept them as a necessity of every day life. They continue to do things the way their ancestors did them and proudly go on about their business as life has gone on for hundreds of years (often talking on their cell phones?).

So, today's question is: how many people does it take to attach two ceramic street numbers to the front of the casita?

This week has been final wall repair and painting of the new arch and front of the casita punctuated by my neighbors arrival from Canada. I waited on the color selection because she is an artist and I'm color stupid. Together we managed to pick a sort of gray, well, actually not "sort of" - it's basically gray, what can I say?

We started online by going to a site with at least a million colors and arguing about what was taupe (this is while she was still in Canada). Then on her arrival we visited the local Comex store and went through the fans of colors until they all blurred - too warm, too cold (sounds like Goldilocks huh?) and eventually picked a color. When the paint crew arrived with 10 gallons of the new paint it was too light - so, send it back to the store to darken it up and actually it's still too light, but this is more my fault than my artist neighbor, I didn't want it to be too dark - well, it definitely ain't. (but, you know the fear of painting a whole side of a house too dark and then standing back only to gasp in panicked surprise)

The prep work prior to painting consisted of two coats of sealer/primer and repair to the walls small cracks etc. with cementos which is a white powder you mix with water and it makes a hard cement used for almost everything but sticking your dentures in place. Then they start painting with a scrub brush, the kind you'd buy to scrub the floor, the barbie, anything needing vigorous action. They basically "scrub" the paint into the rather rough textured surface to make sure it's covered, very laborious and time consuming. There isn't a roller with nap long enough to paint this surface and spraying might work, but who has a spray gun? - efficiency remember?

The prep work also consisted of literally grinding up a brick to dust then mixing it with the cementos to form a brick colored paste which neatly repairs chipped bricks, holes in the bricks etc. and up at roof cornice level it filled in for a notched out area so perfectly you'd never know it wasn't an original brick. But, you must keep in mind all this is done totally by hand with the most basic of tools and good old elbow grease, they have an abundance of that and of course, time which they seem to have plenty of.

The paint work began on the wall and my neighbor and I scrambled for a liter of adobe colored oil paint for the front door and a couple of other trim areas. We again laboriously argued through the color fans until we agreed on a color, they mixed it and we proudly took it home. A bit later we opened it and shazaam, or should I say "SURPRISE" - because it was hardly in the same color family, it was bright orange, the color of tulip tree blossoms, beautiful that they are, IT was not what the front door should look like.

I actually skipped a crucial point in the story, back when "we" were building el arco, the ceramic number "2" of the address "20" fell off - so, we just glued that baby back up, unfortunately it had cracked and when we taped it on to dry, it sort of slumped and so our "20" wasn't the most attractive. Now, as I've also said, you don't want to look too prosperous, but we decided today to get new ceramic numbers for the casita anyway, flout our wealth and get new numbers, you only live once.

First we went to Comex and tried to convert the bright Tennessee orange to more of a UT burnt orange terracotta with little success. We compared the color to the color fan and it wasn't even close. At the same time I bought a liter of maroon for another wall and it also wasn't very close. I think they haven't calibrated their color machines very often, if ever. We packed up what we had and headed to another store and another and another - we never did find a terracotta color we liked - so, we're going to paint this as a first coat (I'm sure) and will come back at it from another direction another day.

So, upon returning to the front gate work area we were all standing around watching one guy paint and a very large yellow dog came up, well, our workers have two, sometimes three dogs that come along and the smallest little Heinz 57 wiener dog is totally fearless and started barking and I'm in between the two as old yellar approached calmly and I'm thinking "this could be good for a trip to the hospital" and I'm telling shorty to stop and a bit nervously standing my ground as old yellar continued to advance. He was looking at the little yapper like "I can eat you in one bite" but he never barked or showed aggression, just curiosity. We've been told that Mexicans won't tolerate an aggressive dog, they'll put it down and so I had some small modicum of hope that was actually true - and sure enough I gently pushed the big dog away and turned him around and sent him away with a bit of help from the Maestro.

As they painted I got the scraper and a small hammer and liberated the old ceramic numbers from their duty on the front of the casita and was going to wait until manana to put up the new ones with silicone and then chalk around them, but I no sooner popped the numbers than the paint guy slathered on a coat of paint. So, I picked up the new numbers and Ignacio immediately started mixing a small batch of cementos. By this time we were all out front and my neighbor asked if they didn't think silicone would be better - to which Juan (the head brick layer) agreed, so it was brought out and slathered on the backs of the new tiles. I got out my level to make sure they were straight and plumb and while 5 of us watched, Juan pressed them into position and the two dogs guarded the work site.

So, the answer to the original question is: 6, 4 Mexicans, 1 Gringo and 1 Canuck plus 2 dogs - really. So Juan was standing there pressing them into position and we all left, I guess he probably eventually left?

Actually it didn't take long before they were solid enough to leave to dry and the folks cleaned up and left. Now all that is needed is the front door paint and two smaller accent areas, then remount the entry timbre (bell) and I'm bringing back rust sealer from TX for the front gate with will get a coat of black (common for many gates) which will culminate the project starting with the July 29th storm and ending sometime after mid October - just another fun project in Mexico.

Trapped in mi casa in Mexico

2009-08-26T16:32:00Z

So, here I am trapped like a rat in my own casa - how could this happen?

As noted earlier a big tree fell on the front gate which began a series of events still unfolding as we speak. The electrico thing is partially resolved; the electric wire isn't tied to the tree anymore, but now to a plate/rod post thingy bolted to the tinaco base (which cracked the base BTW) so this isn't the end resolution to the problem. As usual, if you want something done right, do it yourself, so I'll order a mounting strap and clamp system used for antennas strapped to chimneys and pick it up when I go to Texas in early Oct.

The big happening at the moment is that they arrived Monday to demolish and rebuild the front gate wall. Knowing how they build arches I made a quick trip to the store to stock up on essentials including a(nother) big bag of cat food for the moochers out back.

They came back later and unloaded scaffolding and we discussed the plan. They said they'd be back in the morning, I said a las ocho (at eight)? - they got a biggie laugh out of that one, oh no senior, we don't come to work at ocho, maybe nueve, or las nueve y media (nine or nine thirty) - well, you have to admit they were honest.

So, Tuesday at las nueve y media they put up the scaffolding across the gate to ensure I didn't make a break for freedom any time soon. Of course I was there to supervise the proceedings and remind them it needed to be rebuilt to the original colonial Alamo shape with appropriate opening for the quaint antique entry bell etc. How do I know it's antique? - hey, everything around here is old (including me) so it has to be antique by default. I reenforced the discussion by telling them I had muchas fotos of it, so don't try to get creative on the rebuild as I'll be watching and documenting.

In typical Mexican fashion 3 guys with hammer and chisels began chipping out the old wall above the gate and the supporting arch while a fourth old guy filled 5 gal buckets with debris and dumped it in the ruts and pot holes on the road - well, that solves two problems, disposal of debris and no one else is going to fill the ruts, and I seriously do mean NO ONE! Now, the arch might have been cracked, but it had stood there for decades and wasn't giving up without a fight and took them pretty much all day. I would go out every once in a while and shoot some pics and check progress. At lunch time (mid afternoon to us) I went out and they offered to share some of a fish they had cooked on an overturned mortar mixing pan (with a stick fire underneath) - I graciously declined but said the gatos might be interested, they laughed. I think today I'm going to suggest they go next door and catch and cook the infernal gallo (rooster) for lunch, boy is he noisy at 3am, but that's another story.

So today they showed up for work early, about 9:15 rather than 9:30, and we discussed some electrico issues and how long it was going to take to get the basic arch up - translated: exactly when CAN I rejoin society beyond my walls and check mail, get some groceries etc? I've noticed Mexicans laugh a lot - I guess they find gringos funny?

The way an arch is built today is as old as arches and guys building them. First you get the vertical side post main concrete and steel completed (they were able to save ours, so we're ahead of the game already). Then at about the 7' level they put a big plank all the way across with some posts underneath for support. In the States they would have a steel arch form, but here they just stack bricks on top of the board in the shape of the underside of the arch - they don't need no stinkin' sissy forms? Next they mix cement the usual on-the-ground MX way and trowel on a 2-3" layer over the top of the stacked bricks, this determines the actual shape of the arch - they let it dry while I'm trapped like a rat in his maze watching. After a day or two they begin building the arch with brick and some steel rebar - this takes several days - yes, I'm still waiting. Then the facia brick you actually see are laid around the edges and left to dry while I cool my jets looking out through supports in the middle of my gate.

After an appropriate time the stacked bricks are removed from under the arch and if it doesn't fall down they all yell "Viva Zapata" and take the rest of the day off to celebrate. But, that's actually good news because if I'm lucky they'll clear back the supports and the big plank and I'll be able to get out for a short time.

Next the scaffolds will once again close off my escape route as they will put a steel beam across the top of the arch and begin to rebuild the colonial facade with appropriate hole for the welcome bell - while I cool my heels inside the compound. Eventually they'll get the shape complete, top it with tiles and let it dry - gracias, I'll just wait in here, but thanks anyway.

Finally they'll start with the estuco (stucco) face on the new wall and let it dry while I continue to write emails to all my known and unknown former friends driving them nutso. After a coat or two it will be ready for paint, but they'll clear away the scaffold and maybe in whatever month that happens I'll again be free to roam beyond my walls and celebrate my release from detention.

But at the moment we're just receiving dos metros of sand for the concrete. That's how you order and it's delivered, a meter of sand is a pile uno metro deep, they dump two piles on a flat bed truck and when it arrives the guy scoops it off on the ground. Another truck will bring a few bags of cement and probably some lime, a third will bring a load of brick which will be unloaded by a guy grabbing 5 brick at a time between his hands and tossing them to a guy on the ground who will catch all five and stack them - hey, it works. And so, we progress incrementally toward that distant day when once again I can push a button and magically the gate will open and I can drive unfettered through, and into the outer world.

Of course as I look across the street there is another big sister tree to the one that fell leaning - yes, somewhat our way, but hopefully a big East viento (wind) will blow it away from us so we don't have to repeat this process again any time soon.

The BIG TREE adventure continued

2009-08-09T15:03:00Z

As I've said before, "ah Mexico, the adventure that just keeps giving - and giving - and (enough giving already!)".

Some of the dust from the big tree adventure has settled since our last visit, so here's how it went, and is going. I finally got the Rental Office's attention and they sent someone out to do a bit of logging here at Casa Abuelo. They came with ladder and chainsaw as I had suggested and began clearing away some of the branches to see how big the real problem was. Next it became obvious the cement electric pole was broken and laying against the tree and would have to be moved first. El supervisor from the CFE arrived and after a discussion left apparently leaving the impression a truck would return in an hour or two, maybe even manana - Gonzalo and his helper continued logging. While they waited I had them cut a sizable limb off the Cherry Moia tree out by the pool which was a major improvement, we can now actually open the pump house door rather than shinnying thru it.

Later I went out to check on progress and found the CFE had not returned, big surprise, so as near as I could determine they would start again manana at ocho (8am). Now I was interested in this because I've never seen a Mexican working at 8am and thought this would be cool to document. Of course 8 came and went, 9, 10 and it was about then I realized my stupid mistake, I had rashly assumed they meant 8am Central Mexico time, ultimately it was about 8am Hawaiian time which was more like 1pm Central when they arrived. They were clearly not pleased with the CFE no shows which made me smile to actually see a Mexican irritated by what generally irritates us - I smiled quietly, one of those priceless moments to savor.

In the middle of all this excitement I went to a 60th Bday party for my Spanish teacher and so had been concerned the gate would be blocked by all the activity and moved the car outside the compound just to be sure I could make my escape. Sure enough that part of the plan was a good idea, the rest of the mayhem was unscripted to say the least.

Pretty soon two more guys arrived with a really big chainsaw and this fellow was the "upstairs" guy who climbed and cut the tall stuff - and he's very good. Still no CFE, but pretty soon plan B arrived, the ubiquitous backhoe, they're the main source for clearing lots and most any other sizable job here in MX. He pushed the concrete pole over breaking it in two pieces and pushed it off to the side. Next he used the front bucket to lift the tree off the arch a bit and the chainsaw guy climbed up in the bucket and started cutting. Eventually all came down and the dissection began, it really was a big tree.

I had been eyeing another limb hanging out over the main house power lines out back and decided I might as well use the resources at hand. This time the guy climbed to the very top of the 24' extension ladder and then onto, and further up, the offending limb. He began cutting off sections ahead of himself while the ground crew dragged them onto a large pile next door, ah yes, the good old vacant lot next door (when they build on it we're going to have a problem). When finished he was so high the ladder would not reach so they threw up a rope and lowered him down, so at least I won't have to worry about that limb cutting off power to the main house and I'm beginning to learn you don't loose power for a few hours, you loose power until the CFE plugs you back in, which in the case of the casita was over a week. So Tuesday came and went with progress, at least now we could see the damage to the wall which had been cracked by the weight of the tree, so a call to the insurance company was in order. My tree trimmers said they'd be back in the morning to clean up - right, I remember how this works.

Wednesday morning I heard some activity out front a bit before 9am and sure enough they were back to MX time and sweeping and even using a leaf blower to clean up out front. I hiked up on the roof and did the same up there as we waited for the CFE crew to arrive and reconnect us. Finally the CFE truck arrived and this is where the real entertainment began.

One truck started hooking up a new wire to the pole across the street while a big one with a hoist set about picking up the broken pole. The guy running the controls had obviously just fallen off the tamale truck as he studied the row of levers controlling the hydraulic arm, pushing and pulling until he finally figured out which one made it go up, which one made it go out and which ones rotated it right and left - which also rotated it directly into the limbs of a tree above, breaking several limbs, I expressed my astonishment and displeasure with facial grimaces and shoulder shrugs ending in a down facing rotation of the head side to side - none of which impressed him in the slightest. By now the missing supervisor arrived and took over control of the infernal arm of botanic destruction and managed to pick up and load the remains of the pole on the truck.

At this point things were beginning to swirl out of control, I didn't see a new pole and the guy on the roof of the casita was starting to stretch the hookup wire from the pole with intent to hook it somewhere other than a non-existent new pole? I questioned where the new pole was and the answer was basically "nada" pole. Now all this was going on in two distinctly different languages. So, he called his officina and put on a lady who spoke Inglish and I talked with her for a while until the phone went dead at a suspiciously convenient time? - so, I motioned for el supervisor to come into the casita and I called Rentals where my lady spoke Inglish to me and Espanol to him, this whole thing was like a Keystone Cops scenario - you really have to imagine the comedic component of all this as it was a hoot.

The incoming power wire is a cable which basically supports the hot wire wound around it and also acts as the second wire, so it has to be anchored to something solid as it's coming nearly 100' from the pole, through the notch of a tree (trim the tree? - why Senior?) across the street and to the casita where he wraps the cable around a small stub of broken off limb on one of my trees! - I swear I'm not making this up, he wrapped the supporting cable to a tree, then looped it to my incoming electrical service pipe on top of the casita (which is tied with a small loop of baling wire to the chimney - it really is, I don't have to make up stuff like this, "CFE Tree Pole")

I was beyond incredulous, I said "you can't do that, not even in MX" - still gesturing wildly while sprinkling my gestations liberally with down hung shaking head to display my disbelief not to mention my doubt and displeasure. As you might already have guessed it was rewarded with shrugged shoulders by el supervisor. This is a compressed version of events because I was up and down the ladder several times in disbelief and I kept repeating "you can't do that - not even in MX" - all in vain. Their position was that it was up to us to provide a secure pipe they could connect their cable and in lieu of that, the tree was "it".

Somewhere in this whole process the Rental Officina sent out Luis, a little guy who was their "electrico" goto guy who did speak a reasonable amount of Inglish so I began the whole explanation again of how you just can't hook a power wire to a tree - it just ain't done! - but then again, this IS MX. Luis said he'd have to put a new pipe from the meter up to the roof and bolt it to the side of the house so the cable could be connected. I wasn't excited about the solution, but could see any further attempts to redirect Mexican culture was a fool's errand and said "ok". But seriously, I mean really? - the old service pipe had worked for 40 years, why should we have to replace it now because the CFE wasn't putting in a new pole - well senior, you have to do it because the CFE isn't putting in a new pole - oh, now I see? - this IS MX. (just as a side note, for the exorbitant per KWH fees we pay the CFE should put in custom designer poles)

Meanwhile the 3 man CFE crew was working on removing the remaining stub of a pole. You have to envision a 12" round concrete stub sticking about 6" out of the ground with probably 8 pieces of steel rebar sticking up. The unseen part of the pole is probably 5' in the ground, so they got out a grabber and tried to pull the pole with the infernal arm of botanic destruction - no joy, they got a bigger grabber and tried again, still no joy, so they got out a sledge hammer, bent over the rebar and piled a mound of dirt on the remains giving it a decent burial, I looked at it, shook my head and said to el supervisor "esta muerto, hay una cruz" (it's dead, we need a cross) - he either wasn't impressed with my attempt at Spanish, or maybe my attempt at humor - he just shrugged his shoulders (the more I think about it, that may be a primary requirement to be el supervisor). Actually I was still in pretty good humor through all this and still howling with laughter about tieing an electric wire to a tree, but we did have electrico in the casita and no tree laying on the gate, we parted company. So ended Wednesday.

Now, you might assume this ended the adventure in connecting trees to power lines (or visa versa) but no way, adventures in Mexico never really end "el camino va para siempre y el partido nunca termina" (the road goes on forever and the party never ends).

Thursday was pay-the-rent-day and I told them to call before sending Luis out to work on the electrico so I could let him in. Friday saw the arrival of the insurance adjuster which all went rather well, so I decided I'd go to Guad to get the car insurance thing settled which was a whole other adventure in finding an address in Guad. The guard at the gate said "Billy" would take care of me, he spoke muy bueno Inglish, unfortunately that was about the time "Billy" decided to disappear, so another young guy who wasn't as adept at Inglish as Billy helped me - we got through the whole thing, they gave me a check and I headed home.

About 6:30 Friday evening a moderate ill wind kicked up and sure enough, the main power to the casa grande went out, actually it dropped to about 60 volts, I strung the extension cords to the pump house to power the PC's and TV and retired for the evening secure in the knowledge that el supervisor and his merry band of pole climbers were not going to fix the electrico until manana.

Saturday morning I headed for the casita to take a pic of the "professional" CFE tree hookup thing and found it had changed? - about that time Pedro my gardener arrived and asked if I could let him in, seems Friday Luis showed up (without calling of course, silly me) to do the electrico and because I was in Guad, Pedro gave him his key to the front gate door - which was not properly locked, this wasn't looking good. Next I could see a channel had been chiseled out of the brick/stucco above the meter to the roof where a new piece of pipe protruded. The cement patchwork was apparently done my a gringo, I've never seen a Mexican do that bad a job with cement! - there was no attempt to blend or match the surface stucco, it was just slobbered into the gouged out area and left to dry - visualize mucho more head shaking.

Back on the roof the pipe is exactly where the old one was which is why the cable is tied to the tree which is in the direct line between the pole and in incoming service pipe. Now I will say he did a better job of hooking to the tree, he selected a larger more substantial branch to wrap around????? - the new pipe, the gouged out brick/stucco were all for nothing, the cable is still tied to the tree and when the wind blows it will likely pull on the wire which will pull the pipe which will crack the slobbered on cement which is probably a good thing.

I went ahead and remounted the street light I bought and hooked to the CFE side of the meter so they can pay the bill. I then wrote an Email to the Rental Officina with my displeasure and headed for the TV to watch NASCAR. By now it was 11:30 and while we were up to 90 volts, I figured the frig was beginning to warm having been without power for 17 hours, so I was stringing more extensions when the 4th hampster at the CFE station reported for work and the voltage soared to 127 volts (yes, that's what normal voltage is down here). So, all I had to do was unstring and unplug the extensions, reset all the timers and head for the TV.

Later the phone rang, I didn't answer, the Officina left a message wanting me to show Luis, on Monday, what needs to be done? - "el camino va para siempre y el partido nunca termina".

Camping out in a Mexican estate

2009-08-01T21:20:00Z

You know it occurs to me that maybe I should clear up some commonly held misconceptions about retiring in opulent splendor in Mexico. While it's true that when you rent a palatial estate in Mexico it comes with a maid, gardener and at least two cats - especially the "at least" two cats thing because like rabbits they seem to multiply? - I now have more. You might also assume the lap of luxury would include electricity for your every whim, hot and cold running water miraculously flowing from faucets etc. - all of which ain't automatic I find. And while refrigerators are common, if the electrico is OFF - YOU CAN'T OPEN THE DOOR AND LET THE COLD OUT!

So, that's another $60peso pot shot, that makes 4 pots in 3 storms and it's Saturday morning which means I'm missing country oldies from Austin because there is NO POWER and so we're camping out yet once again in MX. As previously noted, no electrico means no light, no PC/Internet, no water because it's a pressure system - although it is nice and quiet early in the morning with only the roosters crowing and the cows mooing loudly in the distance.

This has been a rough year for power outages and the rainy season isn't half over although maybe the stormy part of it is - I hope. We had a big storm last Tuesday which dropped a 60' tree formerly across the street from the gate, now over the street and onto the gate arch, the casita roof etc. taking out a power pole and electrico to the casita in the process. The guys from the CFE (Comision Federal de Electricidad) came out a day or two later, rolled up the broken power line saying they would be back "manana" - sure they will be - I've not seen them since, nor anyone with a chainsaw the Rental Officina is supposed to be sending - ah, but this IS MX and it's not even been a week yet.

So it's a challenge, actually more of a ritual, you look out before going to bed to see if you see any lightening in the distance and put out the requisite towels strategically placed around the house to prevent moisture incursion from leaking doors, windows etc. (the glass and steel windows and doors in MX are designed to leak - I swear) Once the towels are in place, most windows are closed and only the upper deck doors remain open for ventilation. Somewhere between 2 - 4AM you'll be awakened by the lightening and rolling thunder which is constant (rather odd actually) and you get up and close the remaining doors in preparation for another horizontal frog strangler.

You go back to bed to catch a few more winks with the fervent hope the electrico won't go out, but of course at the height of the storm the beeping of the UPS regulator in the computer room says otherwise. You have a few minutes to get to the weather PC which runs 24/7 (when power is available) and hit "Hibernate" and when it shuts down you kill the frantically beeping regulator and go back to bed - again - Max has learned to pretty much sleep through all this activity, it doesn't concern him, he's disinterested.

With or without power morning comes at 6am and Max's clock runs on cat power, so he wants to be fed - now please! Eventually you get up and of course it's still dark and you know there is only a rather limited amount of water remaining in the pressure tank, so you brush and wash with minimal water, stumble down the dark stairs to the kitchen where a strategically placed candle awaits. Feed the cats, clean Max's litter box with a small flashlight clinched in your teeth to provide some light and put out the residual in the outside trash.

On the way back in you dip a bucket of water from the concrete pond out back - it will be needed for flushing purposes. Of course there is always an adequate supply of bottled water for drinking so we're happy and healthy for the moment.

Fortunately this camping expedition has a gas stove, so you boil some water and pour it through the coffee filter for the mornings brew. This brings me to a memory; when we lived in Slidell, LA in '66 (an area noted for its hurricanes and power outages lasting for days) we were going to build a house. The one thing everyone told us was "put in a gas light and a gas outdoor stove so at least you have light and cooking capability - now after 43 years I see the wisdom of their council - we never built, we moved to a state where power was consistent.

As the day begins to brighten a bit I can now see a minimum of 5 big palm fronds in the pool along with assorted other bashura (trash) from the trees. A trip out to the casita finds a couple more palm husks in the drive which get chucked over the wall onto the vacant lot. Back at the casa grande one of the "new" 2 week old elephant foot pots is broken and needs cleaning up and all the wet towels are hauled to the washer with the hope the power will return sooner than later so they can be washed and dried for tonite's storm.

Of course with the PC's off, the weather station is offline and so when power returns there will be lots of things to document, then there are the timers for fountains, pool, lights etc. to be reset all in preparation for another storm tonite - well, actually as I look out it may be brewing as I write as it's still dark and cloudy - but, this IS MX. (and I can see the lights from the rich people up on Gobbler's Knob - I often wonder how much extra those fools pay to have electrico all the time? - might be worth it)

But, just as I finished typing this on the laptop I looked up to notice the back gate lights are on, so guess it's time to resume the pampered gringo life I enjoy - please disregard my previous grumblings.

The "Mexican experience", or; "never waste a good crisis"

2009-07-09T15:55:00Z

As our current crop of mis-elected fools in DC are fond of saying "never waste a good crisis", not exactly what you want to hear from elected officials, but it can be applied at a local level to good effect, and coupled with the "Mexican experience" an adventure is sure to occur.

The day started with a new adventure of sorts, returning something to Home Depot. Having never tried this I boned up on my Spanish and found that "returno" commonly seen on highway signs signaling a Uturn or return is not the proper word for returning an object, so necesito "returno" este would draw a puzzled look. The right phrase is necesito "devolver" este when trying to convey you "need to return this".

I motored up to Home Depot and told the guy at the door what I needed and his question was "cambio?" - asking did I want to "change" the item, I replied si, so all was going well. At the return desk I repeated once again and then things went south because speaking the language, no matter how poorly, only gets you to the next part where they think you actually know more than 3 words in Spanish and say something in rapid fire Spanish like; "Porque regresan este tema y quieres una tienda de credito o en efectivo en su tarjeta de credito?" - leaving you with a stupid look on your face. Fortunately there is usually someone close that overhears your delimena and comes to your rescue. As near as I can figure the credit should show up on my bank statement any day now, so the first adventure of the day passed rather uneventfully, the next was not as simple, but a heck of a lot more exciting.

There I was cruising along in the fast lane of the Periferico, the beltway around Guadalajara on my way to this new UPscale center to browse around. The Periferico is at least 3 lanes wide and they're often working on the center area and they post a guy (the sacrificial goat) frantically waving a red flag to warn you things are going to get suddenly narrower and then some orange traffic cones force you to (close your eyes) and merge right - OH MY GOSH, MERGE RIGHT IMMEDIATELY! So, the vehicle two ahead was something sizable blocking our long distance view, but on the Periferico that's common and you just careen ahead with "blind" faith hoping they haven't done anything stupid ahead.

Enter stupid; there were orange cones out, but the flagman was apparently curled up in a fetal position praying to Sta. Agnus (the patron saint of highway flagman) and no where to be seen. Things began to happen rapidly, he first vehicle suddenly merged right to the center lane exposing the driver ahead, and me, to a sudden decision hit the cones, merge right and there were cars beside us, or stop? - she opted for the latter and jammed on the brakes, I did the same and stopped a few inches from her, she started up to go right and I started to follow, but traffic caused her to suddenly stop again - this time I didn't get stopped and bumped her and a second or two later a small truck hit be from behind - wow, what an adventure and I could just have gone to breakfast with friends, but no, I had to drive all the way to Guad to get in an accident.

Now, Gringos are inculcated with a fear of having an accident in MX by all sorts of horror stories - most probably true about going to jail, impounded vehicles, bribes etc. So, you're in the middle of the Periferico, between two cars, one you've hit, you're a gringo with no idea what to do next - alright, Now we're talking adventure! - actually now we're talking something closely resembling panic!

The driver of the car I bumped popped out of her car madder than a wet hen and I'm saying "sorry, sorry, my fault" and her brother was also telling her to calm down. Once we determined everyone was ok and it wasn't real serious we started exchanging information. This is where my luck took a turn for the better, turned out she spoke good English - besides being rather attractive, by this time I was beginning to notice. I asked if we should call the Policia, she emphatically said NO that wasn't a good idea, they just muck up the process and want money, so we called our insurance agents while still stopped in the middle of the freeway, hot, noisy with huge trucks rumbling by etc. and finally the flagman took up his duty and moved the cones back to divert traffic around us giving us a small measure of security.

Then a police truck arrived and I felt a knot in my stomach and I could tell by her face she was less than ecstatic as well. After at least 30 minutes the insurance guys showed up and the Policia blocked traffic to get us off to the side. By this time the charming and attractive (I was REALLY beginning to notice by then) young lady we'll call "Charlotte", mostly because that is her name, and I had exchanged life stories and I had been invited to spend Christmas with her family? - now granted, this wasn't exactly a "crisis" of huge proportion, but grande or poco, as they say in DC "DON'T WASTE IT".

More paperwork, the usual stuff of accidents and more discussions and she kept saying "it's not your fault" - now, as stated I hit her, how can it not be my fault, but apparently that's the way these things are handled here in MX, if no one is at fault, everything goes much smoother. There was still the fact the Policia had my license and down here that's always a challenge to get it back without having to "buy it back". But, it all ended comfortably, I got back my license with a friendly smile and handshake - the sort of "bro" shake they do down here which begins with a typical handshake and then locking thumbs? - I don't know why, but I know how, and that's all that seems to matter.

Without being crass or judgmental there do seem to be two noticeably different cultures here, one of the majority people, probably with Indian heritage mixed in that tend to be a bit more "robust" to use a word. Girls have babies very early and never regain their figures and frankly it's not a pretty sight because they all wear skin tight jeans and what doesn't fit in, hangs over. But when you go to Guad, especially in Zapopan, you see ladies with a more slender figure, I'm told they are more the Castilian Spanish higher class of people and the ladies are quite lovely, Charlotte would seem to come from this culture - yes, I DID notice, so sue me.

I was still determined not to waste the moment as we joked about it being much better to meet another way. I insisted she allow me to buy her lunch one day so we could have more time in an atmosphere more conducive to discussion than standing by a freeway, we exchanged Emails and I was at my car just getting ready to leave when she got out of her car and came over to me and said her brother was going to chef school and wanted to cook lunch for me sometime and wanted my phone - now, things were looking up, my crisis was bearing fruit, or "fruta" as they say down here.

I'm finding that being an abuelo (grandfather) also has it's advantages, as we were saying goodbye once more I shook hands with her brother and she and I exchanged hugs, now how often do you get to do that NOB?

Since loosing Chris people from time to time suggest that "I'll find someone new" and I used to tell them no, that's not going to happen, but you know how people are, so I started saying well, she will need to be three things; to be 40, very rich and very attractive. So, sizing up Charlotte, she certainly has the attractive part covered and the 40 works - well, sort of, she's not 40, she's probably 40 years younger than me (that counts right?) and not rich, so maybe a one and a half or two out of three?

As I was driving toward the new center (and Chihuahua, IS IT EVER UPscale) my insurance agent called to make sure everything was going ok and I laughed and said yes, and more than that the lady I bumped was muy bonita (very beautiful) and I had asked her to lunch, he laughed and said great, that's all part of the service, it's the "Mexican experience" - I said shoot, if I'd known that I'd have hit someone sooner, we both laughed.

I tell you "it just ain't natural"

2009-07-04T21:41:00Z

It's the 4th of July and no matter where you are in the world it's a day for Americans, and others, to celebrate freedom. It's also a day to think back over 4th of July's past.

Growing up in NE, it was a tradition for Dad to pick up a couple grocery bags of fireworks. There were black snakes, the black pills you light and they grow out into "snakes" and helicopters, a tube with an aluminum blade attached that, when lit, became a jet powered helicopter and went whizzing up in the air, or if malfunctioning, they became a horizontal weapon of James Bond potential scattering young and old alike in diverse directions - because, of course, it exploded at the end of it's burn.

Roman candles which shot balls of fire (and we held them in our hands no less) were fun, sparkles which produced a molten hot iron rod guaranteed to burn something or someone when dropped, firecrackers of all sizes were great, all the way from "lady fingers" we foolishly held while they exploded (don't ask, I don't know why we did such a dumb thing?) to M80's which approached serious explosive potential and can be used for "fishing" at the local pond. Sometimes we'd light an entire package of firecrackers to scare everyone. Poking a hole in the bottom of an empty can and filling the hole with a moderate sized firecracker while sitting the open end either on the ground or in a pan of shallow water demonstrated the true contained explosive potential by launching the can 50-100' in the air.

When I was maybe 10 I was old enough to light the big sky rockets out at my Uncle Myron's farm. We'd make a launching ramp from a bent piece of tin propped up at an angle, the exploding rockets were beautiful in the night time sky after a sweltering day and all the good farm food from potato salad to hot dogs and chicken - you had to have fried chicken (I think it was, maybe still is, written into the NE code of conduct for local folk).

I can remember driving to CO to visit and we had an old Plymouth with the funky fuzzy cloth seats and headliner that always smelled of dust. We would take a burlap water bag you filled and hung off the front bumper, they ooze water and the passing air and evaporation cooled the water. Of course the bag also collected a variety of bugs while tooling along, so you had to scrape off the cap area a bit before drinking, but in those hot summer days it was great to have a cool drink.

later in life in Colorado the fireworks were much more limited, so we'd go to public displays, sometimes at Lakeside amusement park after a hot day at the swimming pool, or maybe a drive up into the mountains to cool off from a sizzling July day.

Years later in California we'd go to public displays after a day by the apt pool to take the edge off the July heat. In 1965 my daughter was born on St. Patrick's day so on the 4th we drove to Phoenix to meet her parents who drove from Colorado to see the new baby. We had a new '65 GTO convertible which didn't have AC, when you're young and in CA who needs it? (actually that turned out to be a huge mistake when in Dec of that year we transferred to Louisiana) We drove at night so it would be cooler - we thought. We hit Barstow at about Midnight, it was still 100 and there was a line to get into any place air conditioned, restaurant, store, restroom, you name it. It was actually cooler to have the windows up and the vents closed, otherwise you were sitting in front of a hot air vent fed by the Mojave desert. I think it was 115 that 4th in Phoenix. On the way back we stopped by the side of the road to watch fireworks at Kingman, AZ.

In Texas we spent many years on the lake with friends when we had out boat. The 4th there is guaranteed to be hot and dry, this year it's forecast to be 102. Generally we didn't go out on the lake that day due to the influx of amateur boaters on holidays. We'd have a big dock party and dip as necessary to keep cool. Although one year the lake was flooded and closed due to high water and it was eerie out on the docks which were deserted, much like mid November, but much warmer. They usually had a fireworks display at the harbor and as many as 200 boats would be anchored out in the cove watching. A couple of years we dragged lawn chairs up on the roof at the house where we could see displays from 3 different places.

One year I spent the 4th coating the roof with aluminum reflective paint, you can imagine the sun burn I got from that reflection and in '06 I was up there again coating it with a white membrane. Even after we sold our boat we'd go out at times with friends on their boats to view the fireworks.

So, memories of the past 60+ years flood back on this day, but you may have noticed the one common thing across all those years and places; it was HOT, MUY CALIENTE, HOT- so, "it just ain't natural" for it to be cool on the 4th of July - but here it sure is! I keep trying to remind myself that we used to drive up in the mountains to cool off, and I AM in the mountains here, but it's just not right for it to be cloudy, rainy and 62 degrees on the 4th of July? And when you live in thin air (which retains heat about as well as I retain money?) in a big concrete, brick and steel pizza oven with cold tile floors, it is almost chilly - really, trust me. Our hot months are April and May, once it begins to rain in June, summer's over - we cool significantly and when the sun isn't out it's darn cool. Now it's late afternoon and the sun has finally come out, so we made it to - - - 71? - 71 degrees? - shoot, in TX this time of the year is doesn't even drop below 75 at night for months, "this just isn't natural" and now the sun has slid behind a dark cloud, so it looks like more rain.

Something else that "ain't natural" is paying $7 for a can of baked beans which were good, but hardly "baked" by Mom's standard. I decided to make it a traditional (as possible) 4th so I bought some Johnsonville dogs and a can of Bush's Honey Baked beans and even got Wonder buns and while they would have tasted better on a grill I wasn't about to go to that much trouble, so, add some good old Lays (Sabritos) potato chips and a Coke Zero and you have July 4, 2009. As it was raining earlier the US and TX flags were hung inside the deck windows. I don't have any cohetes (aerial bombs) so guess I'll have to take the AK-47 out after dark and shoot in the air (it's ok, roofs are concrete, so no harm, no foul).

Is it July again already?

2009-07-02T15:58:00Z

Today's Garfield cartoon is perfect, it's in the ongoing scenario of "we're bachelors baby" and some of the foibles of single guys. Jon looks down at the table and blows, he and Garfield are totally engulfed in a cloud of dust, he says "I think it's time to dust" and Garfield says "is it July again already?" This perfectly describes Casa Abuelo because as documented it's dusty for 8 months and anything more serious than a cursory dusting is a total waste of time, time that is better spent doing something really really necessary and productive like organizing the sock drawer for instance. Hey, I still wear them once in a while in the "winter" so they need to be organized and immediately accessible.

So, June came and eventually the rains began, now we enter the muddy season when it becomes somewhat more practical (not to mention necessary/mandatory) to dust/clean. This means a total cleaning from roof to driveway, Chris always reminded me "top down" and so before the rain started in earnest I raked the roof and hauled 3 giant bags of dried Jacaranda blossoms with assorted leaves down and out back. Next it was time to powerwash the decks starting with the upper which was done last weekend. It takes about 2 hours to do a decent job and at the starting end of the deck is a palm tree which also serves as an aviary for numerous birds - who consume blueberry's of the season and deposit the processed residue on the deck as they leave. I started at that end and an hour later when I returned to roll up the hose it needed to be done again? - it's a never ending task.

As mentioned, today's Garfield strip was particularly prominent as this IS July, I've run out of excuses, and it began raining at 3:30am and continues as I type this at 11am. Yes, I know, it never rains during the day - sure it doesn't, but the problem is now as I tiptoe out on the deck to check the rain gauge (yes, the electronic one on the roof died) and return, my damp feet leave little muddy prints on the floor like when Max is outside and comes in with muddy feet - a sure sign it's time to contemplate the dreaded floor scrubbing which also means moving everything, hauling all the rugs outside, beating them and hanging them over the rail to air out - fortunately it's raining so, can't start that today - whew, that was close.

Part of this is driven by the semi-annual visit of the owners who are teachers in Taiwan. They bought this house maybe 5 years ago and did extensive remodeling and additions to the main house, lived in it a year and then took jobs in Taipei, Taiwan. Interestingly at the same time they began building a new house about 7 blocks from here which wasn't finished when they left, the young builder who did this place and the new one lives there. The intent was to sell this place once the new one was complete. So, they come back in July and again at Christmas for a week or two and I want the place to look nice, not mother-in-law clean, but not Garfield dusty either - they arrive around the 16th so the clock is ticking ever louder.

This is also lease renewal time. I had originally planned to ask for a two year extension as the real estate market is poor and I figured they would be glad to have me stay on. However I received some troubling news that La Casa Nostra retirement home next door is moving and the "For Sale" (or actually Se Vende) sign went up Tuesday, now I'm not sure as to the future of that property which could negatively impact my little slice of paradise. I Emailed the owner and said "can I stay another year" and quickly got an answer "sure, no problem" and so tomorrow I'll sign for another year and we'll see what happens.

Due to the uncertainty next door I decided to put in a security system and talked to the two companies serving (?) this area. The first guy didn't show up the day or our appointment and I had to call him to get him over here, not unusual, the Mexican priority of timeliness seems only to apply when going to a fiesta or driving in Guad, otherwise it's manana (which of course doesn't mean "tomorrow" it only means "not today"). The second guy was only an hour or so late (a miracle) and even though he was more expensive I thought he had the better solution. I called to have him out a second time before pulling the trigger and forking over muchos pesos. His Email reply said he'd be here at 3pm, I waited, 4pm and I waited and the more I thought about it, the madder I got, something you really shouldn't do in MX or you'll go nuts. At 4:45pm I said "that's it" - at 5 he rang the gate bell, I didn't answer. Now, I know that's probably dumb, but I figure at this point I get to make some of the rules like beginning with the "golden rule" which in MX is "he who has the gold makes the rules". I Emailed and told him I'd make other arrangements and so went back to square zero and started over. This isn't unusual in MX, not unusual at all, few things go as planned here, an example: we went to our repair guys wedding a year ago, the invitation said 4pm, we were there early - it finally started sometime after 5 - or maybe later, there was no real rush, they had six kids.

Generally I guess the news is "no news" and pretty much things as usual here in paradise. The rain continues, so anyone that tells you it never rains here during the day is a bald faced liar. However the results are quite nice, everything including the mountains are green and lush and it's quite pretty. That leaves me with a fair amount of day to do something, maybe I'll study Spanish - naw, that's too much like work, with the rain I'm sure the Sat. TV isn't working, maybe I'll - - - (let you know later) Oh, one other thing, I actually did NOT loose power last night, so that's exciting?

Blink - Bang? - must be the rainy season

2009-05-22T16:37:00Z

Blink - bang?

Yes, it's official (at least in my book) the rainy season is here a month early this year. How can I tell you ask? - simple, we only have prolonged power outages during the rainy season and at the moment it's been off for over 12 hours. About 9:15 last night everything "blinked" out and about 2 seconds later I heard the "big bang" in the distance telling me a transformer had exploded - or we're under attack by Islamo-fascists.

This being Mexico, you know nothing is going to happen until manana so you might as well go to bed and sleep in late in the morning - at least until the cat, who doesn't care about the power failures, insists you get up because he's hungry - so, get up and feed the cats, but you know what? - - - you know when you can't have something you want it even more? - well so it was with the morning coffee. After throwing the extension cord out the window to the pressure pumphouse to get the weather station back online I carried the coffeemaker out to the casita which is on a different power leg - surprise, no power there either - now I REALLY wanted my coffee so back out to the pool pumphouse and plugged in there. The cats were watching warily from a safe distance as I stood by the coffee maker perking away sitting on the ground by the pool, not exactly "morning coffee by the pool".

As I came back up the stairs the power regulator started beeping as the second power leg dropped to 98volts. I shut down everything and took up residence in my deep thinking chair. I decided there were many things that could be done without power like study my Spanish, or use the little battery powered pump to fill my low spare tire - that sounded better than studying.

At this point the power has been off for nearly 13 hours and I'm a bit concerned, I've not opened the frig for any reason, but if the freezer thaws I'll be eating spaghetti morning, noon and night for the next 14 days due to the ample supply my generous neighbor cooked up for me before fleeing to the great frozen north.

As they say, "Mexico, love it or leave it" - but the front gate power is off, so can't leave it at the moment.

As I was sitting on the terazza drinking my coffee my thoughts drifted back to about 1954 when I would have been 10-11 years old. What has this to do with "no power"? - nothing, but it's interesting how sometimes I now have the "luxury" of remembering things from 50 years ago because my mind isn't cluttered with working etc. Anyway we lived in a small town in NE and beyond the east city limits (yes, we had them in those days) there was a swimming pool and combination indoor roller skating rink and dance hall. I think it was called Jensen's, or Hanson's - or maybe nothing close? We'd ride our bikes out to a gas station on the highway and leave them near the fence that separated the adjoining pasture. Of course we didn't lock the bikes, no one would bother them in those days and it was perfectly normal for a 10 year old kid to be off on his own, nobody thought twice, it was all part of growing up.

The reason we parked the bikes there was that going by road would have taken maybe another mile, while cutting across the pasture made it an easy walk. Someone had built a set of steps to make getting over the barbed wire fence easier and so, rolled up towel and swimming trunks in hand with our season pass we'd head toward the creek. There, a big old tree had fallen across the creek and made a perfect bridge. I don't remember that there were any sort of railings, who needs them? Then on up the hill to the pool and check in and get your clothes basket. In the locker room I can almost still smell the chlorine and see the blue green painted walls. The basket had a big safety pin with a number, you pinned that to your trunks and they stored the clothes basket until it was time to leave.

We spent the days swimming and laying in the sun getting vicious sun burns (which I suppose means I'll one day have skin cancer?) because, of course, no one had even imagined sun screen at that time. After a burn or two and mandatory peeling (to gross out your little sister) you took on a nice tanned leather colored patina for the summer. How safe, how simple and easy were those days and years so long ago - but only yesterday in my memories.

Oh, something else I just remembered and retrieved from a box of "stuff from my life" is the registration for our car we had then, it's still in the plastic holder with the elastic band for attaching it around the steering column. It's dated Feb 14, 1955 and is for a 1949 Kaiser, total registration fee: $8.

No power yet, guess I need to think up something else to put off studying my Spanish.

PS: Good things eventually come to those who wait, even in Mexico, and sure enough the CFE has returned us to the 21st century (well, maybe the 20th) and restored our electricity, you can tell it's true or you wouldn't be reading this!

A tope grows in Riberas

2009-04-24T15:43:00Z

Ok, so I'm in a contentious mood this morning and I'm finding any reason I can NOT to study my Spanish, so I'll use this time to gently disagree with a couple of things life has dealt me.

Starting with Spanish, I need it, I want it; yesterday I was in Guad and the only thing I could say to a Home Depot employee who asked (I assume) if I needed help, was "lo siento" (I'm sorry) which immediately confirms you're another illiterate gringo. So why am I fighting the learning process so hard? Well, maybe it's because Spanish is (to be gentle) "odd". Things in Spanish are male and female, which might be ok on the surface, but there is no logic. A man's shirt is "la camisa" which is feminine, you can tell by the "la" vs. "el". A car is "el coche" which makes sense, but a house is "la casa" - feminine, but not everything in the house is feminine? And food? - don't even go there, it's "la" enchilada and "el" taco (I think).

And it goes on and on because once you know the gender, all the adjectives and verbs and stuff have to match. Spanish does not have "do" or "does" and no contractions at all? And it's out of sequence, like we ask what's John eating, or what does John eat? they ask "what eats John?" - well, nothing is eating John dummy, he's just having lunch. So, after 60+ years of shining literacy I'm now expected to think & talk in reverse? Ai Chihuahua.

Next "topes" the title of this thread and the curse of Mexico. The usual justification for this devil's hump in the middle of otherwise smooth roads is that they're a cheap traffic control system. Ok, that might be true in some cases, but many times when you're driving along a nice highway through the beautiful countryside just gazing at the surroundings you suddenly realize you're approaching a large hump in the road and you're going 50 mph and if you don't immediately jam on the brakes, causing everything in the back of the car to suddenly move to the front of the car, you will be in for the jarring of your life at the very least. You'll be thrust upwards violently jamming your 3rd and 4th vertebrae together, your suspension will be jammed to the bump stops, your shocks will be useless, your tires will hit so hard a flat spot will thump along for the next 5 miles until they recover and round out again. And unless you're a tall SUV, say goodbye to your exhaust system.

Of course, if you have anyone else in the car you are required to shout in a loud screeching voice at the top of your lungs "TOPE" with the hope their reflexes are sufficient to preserve life and limb because you ain't got time to help them, you're just trying to survive yourself, at this point it's every man for himself.

There are also variations of "tope chicken" where you wonder how fast you can go over the tope and if there is actually a hole on the other side of that innocent devil's hump in the road which will compound your experience by dropping you from a tope mountain into a rut valley - only to be jarred back up to road level (a MX twofer). Or, you're behind a slow moving truck and trying to pass, as you approach a tope you know he has to slow down from the turtle's pace he's currently doing to almost a full stop providing you a window of opportunity, you can gauge your timing, whip out and pass on the tope hoping you can clear it faster than him, that you can then speed up and return to your lane before getting squashed like a bug by the oncoming truck - works most times because the oncoming truck is also slowing for his side of the tope - that is unless he doesn't know one is there and is coming full speed, but that's where the "chicken" or "pollo" part comes in and no, I don't know if it's la pollo or el pollo? - it only matters to chickens.

Day before yesterday I noticed a tope is growing on a dirt street I take to get to/from the estate. If you can't picture this, I posted a pic at http://chapalaweather.net/Documents/tope.jpg it's the concrete mound to the lower right plainly marked with the 6 brick traffic warning thingy's. As you can see the street ends in about 100', so you can't be going fast at this point anyway and unless you're driving a nitro dragster you can't start at that end of the street and get much speed to this point, but there it is.

Topes are probably a manifestation of the belief that "if some is good, more is better" or in the local jargon "si algunos es buena, mas mejor"? Besides being hard on your car and your backside it's destructive, I was bringing home one of my priceless pre-Columbian pieces of art and hit a hidden tope in Tonala and broke it into 4 pieces - oh, that's the other thing, they put them in shadows of trees, or bridges etc. so you can't easily see them. It provides income for the locals - really! In El Chante on a nice weekend with lots of turistas you will find all manner of stuff being hawked by vendors as you creep over the topes. You can get birds, gum, candy, or birds with gum & candy.

Generally there is a combination suspension/muffler/*Abbarotes shop directly adjoining a field of topes, there you can swerve off the road (under or out of control) and they will sell you a new tire to replace the one that just blew out, repair a bent A-frame or blown shock absorber while you calm your jangled nerves with a cool (frio) cerveza.

Often, as some of the unique things in this wonderful land surprise you, you realize you're saying "now, why the heck would they do that" out loud and as you turn to the person with you, the two of you say in unison "but then this IS Mexico" and you go on your merry way.

Ok, I've exhausted this study dodge, so guess I'll take a shower and hit the books, maybe I can find out if it's "el" pollo or "la" pollo - I could look in my 501 Spanish Verbs Conjugated book but I don't think pollo is a verb?

* Abbarotes, sort of a Mexican version of our convenience stores, liberally translated it's something like "little things". Typically a small hole in the wall packed with Coke, chips, cerveza, Coke, some fruta, Coke and gum. (yes, Mexicans love Coke and drink it in huge quantities which also leads to Mexican's having the highest rate of sugar diabetes in the world)