Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
And good friends it was on Saturday night. We ate. We laughed. We talked. It was exactly the type of night one spends with old friends -- and the memory lingers on.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
For the last couple days, my email box has filled up with dire warnings that we need to "to take a stand against the greatest threat our planet has ever faced.” At first, I thought it was another email about Britney Spears or Michael Jackson -- or a chain letter on how angels will bless me by sending it on to 327 of my closest friends.
The selection varies, but I always have a sense of déjà vu as I pore over it. I find what I want, and give my order to the waiter.
I barely settle into my seat when the waiter brings the house bread. (Michael Dickson claims "house" is a synonym for "it ain´t nothing special.") Its only saving grace is its odd resemblance to a catcher's mitt. (And note the authentic touch: el pelo del perro.)
My appetite is now teased for the specialty of the house: the inappropriately named huevos y jamón verdes.
No eggs. No ham. And the only green thing I can find is the spinach fettuccine. But this is good. The sauce is a pepperoni-pork sausage tomato sauce infused with onion, garlic, and chili powder. My British friends would call this child's spaghetti. But what do they know?
Sated, I totter back to the world of reality. And just as I did after breakfast with Brenda and Roy, I am heading upstairs for a nap.
Friday, March 28, 2008
So how is it that Cirque du Soleil continues to enjoy such special kudos? The hubristic scale of its shows doesn't deliver real circus; neither does the expensive elaborateness of their packaging. It doesn't even amount to theatre. However bendy the contortionists, however bouncy the acrobats, however many risks the aerialists take, they always appear too buffed, coiffed and airbrushed to seem real. On top of that, the accompanying muzak is always so dire.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
I have almost finished reading Edward J. Larson's The Scopes Trial. Tonight I completed reading the section on the trial itself. As I read along, who should show up in the tub but John Scopes himself -- the veritable cipher in the whole episode. He settled down into a quiet corner.
But he was almost immediately joined by Clarence Darrow and William Jennings Bryan. Two loud Democrat attorneys -- both with causes -- filled the tub faster than I was willing to share. I decided to abandon the hot tub and the evening to the three of them. After all, they will still be there whenever I am willing to pick up the story again. And they have been good enough to abandon their histories to me.
Off to bed. This cold is managing to hang on for too long. It must be two weeks now.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Foreigners move to Mexico for various reasons -- some for the weather, some for the culture, some for the cultural values, some for just being somewhere else. The inimitable Michael Dickson says there are only five reasons to move to Mexico from the States: (1) cheaper real estate and rentals, (2) cheaper utilities, (3) lower property taxes, (4) superior health care, and (5) for single men, Mexican wives, "who are a dream come true."
Monday, March 24, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
A friend from New York City sent this to me last December. It is one of the funniest marketing errors I have seen. He said there were several different signs -- all on hams. They disappeared the next day. (The signs -- not the hams.)
Saturday, March 22, 2008
I knew that the cherry blossoms at the state capitol building were starting to come out. When I rolled out of bed at 7:30, I paused only for breakfast. Jiggs and I were off in a hope to beat the crowd. I wanted to get some shots without the usual corps of photographers in the way -- because it was a beautifully clear and sunny day.
Jiggs has been limping on his right front leg and his left rear leg, so, we try to take our walks a bit slower and shorter. Because this was going to be at least a triple walk for him, I took it slow. By the time we got to the capitol, there were plenty of other photographers, but the cherry blossoms were just beginning their show.
Even at these early stages, the trees are impressive. This is one reason our local buses are called Cherriots. (The neighbor girl thinks they are Cheerios.)
But the daffodils were not going to let the cherries have all the attention.
I have been trying to learn from John in San Miguel, Juan Calypso, Babs, and Wayne how to take candid shots of people. I getting a little self-conscious about invading people's privacy. But this older couple was obviously having a grand day.
Jiggs quickly got bored with my attention being on my camera, rather than him. Back to home we started. Just as we were walking by his favorite stream, I received a telephone call concerning the house in Mexico that has interested me this last week. While chatting on the telephone, Jiggs managed to limp down the slope to the edge of the stream -- and got in. To the consternation of the ducks. He was wading around until the current caught him, and off he went downstream over a cascade of rocks. He managed to hang on with one paw. (I kid you not. I often suspected he had prehensile capabilities with his paws.) I knew that if he tired out, he would be swept downstream, and with his aged legs, he would not be able to swim. So, into the water I go, thigh-deep to rescue a dog with a couple of centuries of breeding as a water dog.
I carried him out, and put him on shore. I was afraid he might suffer some form of shock because he was really wobbly on his feet. But he tottered right over to a clump of grass and began eating -- as if nothing had happened. If I could only live in the moment like Jiggs.
And, of course, some star fish -- just for Wayne -- in the harbor at Ganges, Salt Springs Island.
I just thought this was an interesting photograph -- Sucia Island.
No trip in the San Juans would be complete without spotting a pod of orcas -- just outside of Anacortes. They are magnificent creatures.
These pictures are a good reminder to me that life offers a lot of opportunities in my current circumstances. But I am ready for a lot more.
Friday, March 21, 2008
And the entry walk -- just inside the gate. Note the curved overhang. That is an Alejandro trademark.
And, once again, the beloved pool -- this time from the upstairs terrace.
As you can tell, my ardor has not yet cooled.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
I have been bragging about our early spring this year. The font is barely off the tips of my fingers, and we are holding an open casting for a remake of Genesis 7. I started to draft a posting earlier today, but out on the lawn there arose such a clatter that I suspected Saint Nick and 200 reindeer were falling out of the sky. But it was just hail. Not your South Dakota I-will-never-recognize-my-pickup type of hail. Just good old pelt-the-daffodils-to-the-ground hail. And then a surge of rain water. Winter - 100; spring - 2.
The picture I posted at the top was meant to give a little impression of how wet we were this evening. But it looks more like an advertisement for the wet brick look.