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It took me 32 years of marriage before finally deciding, “…well I think we’re going to work out….” I changed jobs dozens of times during my career, not just jobs, but industries, companies, countries. I’m easily bored and hate to make commitments.
Here in Mexico, I’m involved in Spanish, art, mah jong, Mexican trains, Linux users group, climbing El Faro 3X weekly, weekly beach trips, play readings, blogging, weekly walks and lunch with my best friend, Friday night sundowners, and a book club. Plus all the peripheral things like movies, TV, visits with friends, and chores (chores don’t really count-they’re options).
“Stop, already!” I tell myself. “This is too much!! Simplify! I’m retired, but with trying to squeeze everything in, I may as well be working!” The difference between working and retirement is, of course, the time to focus on activities that bring tremendous enjoyment. But, honestly, even retired, there’s not time for everything.
Here’s the new sleek, trimmed down, peddle to the metal version of my life: art and play reading are activities that touch a deep part of my soul that has never gotten much exercise. Walks and lunch with my best friend is rewarding and fun, interesting, we have great conversations, and as long as she’s willing to face the heat, traffic, and occasional rebuffs from people as we peer into the entry of a fascinating doorway, we’ll walk. Spanish is a challenge and a must. Exercise and the beach (more exercise) are vital to the long life I hope I have. Sundowners keeps me in touch with a crowd that I don’t see often. Interesting, but not so critical, are Linux user’s group, blogging, book club, wine club, etc, etc. Sad but true, they have to go.
Soooo…no more blogging, Barry will probably pick it up and give it a try, after Silly Bits. Linux, you were interesting once, now I don’t really care that much. Book and wine clubs, I’ll just read for the pleasure of reading, a good glass of wine can be consumed any time, anywhere.
Now perhaps there’ll be time for spontaneous activities…
We live in a concrete house.
Having lived in Florida most of my life, the only time I had felt the earth move was when I met Barry. A few years ago I was on the 40th floor of a hotel in San Fran and suddenly the curtains started to shake-then the bed. I was terrified! I felt it again in Guatemala, and again in Washington DC, although that temblor actually occurred in Ohio-go figure..
Tormentas are easy. You see the spinning cloud cover on TV, there’s ample time to store food, batteries and gas up the generator. You know in advance what to expect, and if you’re smart you pay attention to the evacuation notices.
Mexico sits on top of three tectonic plates. They move! The Fuca plate is moving under the North American plate. Tectonic plate movement causes temblors. The scientists say it’s no biggie because it moves about as fast as your fingernails grow-I have to cut my fingernails once a week! That’s fast! And who knows what the Cocos plate or the Pacific plate is doing!!
Each morning I check the Servicio Sismelogico Nacional website (http://www.ssn.unam.mx/) There’s always one earthquake, or tremor somewhere along Mexico, Central and South America. Each time I look, I then look up at the ceiling and all that concrete, and decide to have breakfast on the patio, just in case.
Magdaleno has kept our home in Mazatlan pest free f or the last three years. He arrives the first Tuesday of each month to spray inside and out. Each time, he laughs at my butchered Spanish, corrects my grammar and does his best to teach me a new word or phrase.
Last month we were invited to his ranchito in El Verde for music and a meal. El Verde is a small pueblo not far from Concordia. Located in the foothills of the Sierras, It has a palapa style restaurant, a mom and pop store, and not much else. The area is heavily agricultural so it’s very green.
About 6 SUV’s and cars filled with gringos arrived at the Pemex station in Concordia and waited for Magdaleno. He drove up, and asked us to wait a few minutes while he went for ice and he’d guide us to the ranch. It was about ½ hour away. We had settled down to wait when a member of the group said he knew how to get there. A couple of the cars decided to follow his directions and we took off.
We drove through beautiful green mountains, streams, and tiny villages. We looked for the El Verde sign, it wasn’t to be found, so after an hour we turned back towards the Pemex station.
We drove some more, discovered the El Verde sign on the outskirts of Concordia, forgot the other cars back at Pemex, and followed the sign. The countryside was full of cacti, scrub trees, and planted fields. Occasionally we passed a horse and rider,a tractor, and small dirt roads bearing off in different directions. We were looking for a little yellow house off one of the dirt roads, it could be seen from the road, they said.
Never saw a house, but we found a road that we thought might just be the one. A few scouts walked down the road a little way before we drove it. The road was sandy, two lanes, and we never saw a house, and turned back after about twenty minutes. Just as the scouts arrived back at the car, along came Magdaleno and all the rest of the guests. We found we were not even close. He led us a few more miles away from El Verde, turned off on a side road and we arrived at his campo a few minutes later.
We met his delightful family, he turned up the music, and the ladies began cooking. We ate calabasa baked with brown sugar, two kinds of fried fish, delicious frijoles, salsa, fresh tortillas, and drank scores of beers. Three local police showed up and filled their ample stomachs. The baby of about 2 years was placed on top of a horse and was led around the yard. Magdaleno showed us his campo, (at one time he raised cattle, but no longer), the garden with lime trees, banana trees, calabasa plants, tomatos. We sat in the shade,talked, ate, laughed and drank.
Late afternoon it was time to go, amid hugs, kisses and thank you’s we headed back to Maz.
Nov 23, 2009
We live on the corner of Belisario Domingues and Melchor Ocampo. I rise every morning around 6, make coffee and move to the window to see what’s happening on the street. Actually, I know whats happening, but it’s always amusing.
The first person I see is the Noroeste delivery man. His motorcycle roars in the silence as he races up Melchor Ocampo the wrong way, stops at our house, slides the paper under the door and races to his next stop.
The vendors from the market hurry down the street, sandals flapping, barely awake, but moving quickly to be the first one to open their stalls for business.
A woman walks by with her dog. He sniffs everything. She follows patiently, scoop and bag in hand. The dog lingers at the corner where the garbage was placed for collection the night before, grabs and swallows a tidbit before she can stop him. They move on slowly down the street.
A grandmother walks her 15 year old grandson to the school bus stop. He gives her a quick kiss before jumping on the bus. She smiles and waves goodby as the bus pulls away.
Tiemo, our friendly neighborhood car washer, walks by with his bucket of clean water and rags. He smiles and says “Ola, bonita. Su carro?”.
The old man across the street moves a lawn chair out to the sidewalk, where he sits most of the day and chats with anyone who passes. Sometime he’s accompanied by his sad looking black Scottie terrier who sits with him in the shade of the building.
Often, the homeless man stops at our neighbors outdoor faucet. He removes his clothes and washes himself, his clothes and all his possessions. They are stored in two five gallon buckets and numerous plastic bags. Once clean and dressed, he performs an elaborate ritual of nods, bows, waving arms, and leaps. Finally he packs up his belongings and wanders away.
A car turns down to towards the market, then another and another. I make another cup of coffee, Barry wanders in looking for breakfast. Another day begins.
October 28
Our patio has had colibri feeders for about 2 years now. We replace the feeders often, as the sun tends to do them in. This year we bought feeders that allow them to perch while they sip. They really like sitting down.
We love their brilliant feathers, rapid flight and rudeness. They dart, hover, argue, and fight amongst themselves. They buzz us. They come inside to check us out, and we lure them outside with one of the red feeders.
Here’s the plan. When we decide to sit on the patio, we’ll be armed with fly swatters. When they become irritated and fly at us, we’ll give them a little swat. Just a tiny one, don’t want to hurt, just teach them to be nicer… and we’ll use plain grey swatters, not red ones, so they won’t be attracted to them… We must give them a chance, right?
Ok, ok, just kidding about the swatters. Their antics are so amusing. We look for the ones we can identify and worry if they don’t show up for a while. Haven’t seen MamaBird all season, hope she’s ok and just busy with the kids.
October 18
Gottago gottago gottago gottago!!!! Can’t wait! Gotta go NOW!!
Lab slip says no amoebas, no salmonella. The jalapinos? The tap water I used in the scotch? Old age? Who knows!!!? Maybe it was…oops! Oops! Gottago! Viva Mexico!
October 10
It’s hot! I’m standing in the living room, the sweat is rolling down my legs and puddling on the floor. We’ve lived in the Saudi Arabian desert, and dozens years in Florida, so heat is not new. Mazatlan is serious heat.
Surviving Aug –Oct is a challenge we’re determined to win. Here are some things that work for us.
- Gallons of ice tea every day.
- Multiple showers. Downside: the water has been sitting on the roof in a large fiberglass tenaca just soaking up the rays. It helps to forget the towel, let evaporation do its cooling thing.
- Eat popsicles.
- Eat out.
- Eat cool crispy salads (if you can find one.)
- Have lunch in air conditioned restaurants, and linger.
- Maintain one room with air conditioning, set to “Glacial”. Move in the fridge, tv, and a mattress, remove your clothes and camp out.
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We’ve made 6 weeks. Just two more.
October 4 ‘09
It’s Sunday, so we headed for Stone Island for some sun. Arrived about 1030, the tide was high enough to wash into the restaurants along the beach. No prob, the floors are sand. An hour later the tide had receded and the floors were just dry enough for sandcastles.
We spent the day with friends, playing Mexican Train and cooling off in the warm Pacific water.
The day ended with a great meal at Lety’s-brocheta of shrimp, with grilled banana, pineapple, and peppers on a bed of rice, nice fresh tortillas, washed down with Pacifico beer.
October 1
Barry and I retired to Mazatlan three years ago. We visited Costa Rica, Belize, Mazatlan and Guadalajara, MX. Mazatlan captivated us with its cool breezes, smiling people, endless beaches, an international airport and relatively small expat community. We purchased a house in the old town area, near the central market, slightly away from the tourist areas.
We are proud to call ourselves jubilados, Mazatlecos as well as Americanos, gringos, grampa, gramma, etc.
It is most delightful is to wake up every morning and see something you’ve never seen before-from someone finding an open water tap and undressing on the sidewalk for a bath, a breathtaking sunset complete with green flash, sides of beef on shopkeepers shoulders being carried to their market stall for butchering.
The intent of this blog is for two old dogs to learn some new tricks (blogging) and to keep our families up to date on our lives, excursions, joys and woes. It’s a learning experience so don’t expect a lot of bells whistles or anything else for a bit!
Barry and Linda
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