Sunken Dreams

They're still pulling sunken sailboats, tugboats and fishing boats out of Clear Lake south of Houston. It is amazing to see them. They're all covered with thick coats of mud, as sunken treasure looks when it has been brought up after hundreds of years.

Today, Kay and I went to the shipyard to photograph the sight. We were promptly informed that it was a construction site and that unless we owned one of the boats we couldn't be there. Of course, you KNOW, that I said, "Of course we own one", with a twinkle in my eyes. The man let us wander around.

Unfortunately, not being computer literate, I have no idea how to download those photos since I'm not at my own computer. However, tomorrow, I will be at the "computer guru" brother's house and if there is a way to download, he'll know it. So, if you get to see the photos it will be thanks to him.

I stood and looked at the skeletons of joyful times. Of people's dreams for fun and sun. I was sad for the owners, many of who probably don't even know their boats are sitting in this yard.

I asked the man how these people would or could get their boats back. He said if they don't come and pay the fee that was accrued from the rescue that they will break up the boats and put them in the dumpsters or haul them off. Good grief, these are large boats.

Seeing all these sunken dreams reminded me of 1987 - Fort Worth, Texas. I had gone up to meet with an insurance company who had foreclosed on an office building in downtown Ft. Worth called Executive Plaza. They wanted my firm to update and renovate the interior public spaces of the building to bring it to ADA standards and codes. As we walked floor to floor and through abandoned office suite after office suite, I truly felt physically ill. It was beyond imagination that the downturn in the oil business had sunken and halted the lives of so many. I'll never forget that feeling.

I had a similar feeling today, but of course, not to the same degree. A boat is one thing, a livelihood is another.

Travelin' up the Gulf Freeway

Ok, I confess, I've been in Galveston for the last week. Out on the west end, with no people around other then my friends. One can walk for miles and miles. I walked my four miles when I could, but the tide has been really high and it was nigh on to impossible some days.

Galveston is slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy. A surprisingly large tourist turnout on the weekends. There are more construction crews in Galveston then I've ever seen anywhere. Much much work left to do. BUT it looks remarkably good in comparison to 5 months ago when I was here. Even the water was beautiful and clean this trip!

My dear friends Vandy and Sue are still not back in their home and it will probably be 3 or 4 more months before that happens. They are remaining as calm as possible about the prospect. Dear friends of theirs, who had a beach house, have provided them a very nice place to live, thankfully.

It was sublime to spend so much time with them. Usually I show up for about 24 hours and we talk as fast as we can and then I'm gone. I decided this time to arrive before all the other stuff happens and ahhhh, it was sublime.

BUT I'm easing back into the big city. Tonight I'm near Galveston Bay and NASA and tomorrow will work my way up the freeway. I'll be back down this way the end of May, this is just a short stopover.

NOT looking forward to the traffic. People sure do drive fast here! Any who have ever spent time in this area knows that that is true! Or maybe I'm just used to the slow life of San Miguel...

From swine flu to floods

The sky is falling! The sky is falling! That was the message yesterday in the hysteria driven news reports about swine flu. Good heavens, I have never heard so much hype about something BEFORE it happened. If one read carefully, instead of reading the headlines, it appears there have been only 20 confirmed swine flu deaths in Mexico City not over 150 as the headlines scream..........Well I haven't kissed a pig in a long time, so I'm going to tune out all this hyperbole.

Then this morning on my friends' TV is the flooding in the Texas area. Whew, we did have a storm at the beach last night that had me covering my head with the pillow. It WAS scary. And, as usual, people drove into underpasses where they exist in Houston and guess what, there cars are still there. It makes me shake my head in wonderment that people do this over and over and over.

Ok, enough of all of that - I'm off to talk to the birds. They don't talk back with silliness.

Funniest quote in ages!

I'm at a party last night. Lots of unique people there.......FUN. The stories roll around to the deceased Italian mother of one of the guests and how funny she was........she had never been anywhere and finally went on a cruise.

Son talking to mother after the cruise. "So, what did you think of Cozumel?" " It was Laredo with water", she replied. That cracked me up.

Other quote. Son, "So how were the meals?" "Oh my", she said. "You won't believe this. They turned out the lights, set the desserts on fire and then we ATE them", She said in amazement.

There were other funny stories during the evening. It was one of those kinds of groups. People who have led full lives and grabbed for the brass ring.

Rollin' down the Road

Remember when I had my cd's stolen? I was so sad......still don't have them replaced, even though Calypso taped them for me and mailed them. Never received. BUT when I got ready for this trip, I pulled out cd's I haven't played in years. Cd's like "The Commodores, Donna Summers, The Platters and Leon Redbone". So I was jivin' going down the road. Those cd's were interspersed with "Big Joe Maher", Paco Renteria and Willie Nelson, just to name a few.

Never got to listening to the books on tape - the music was too good. UNTIL, I had a blowout ten miles from the Columbia bridge at the border. Oy vey. I backed down the freeway when there were no trucks or cars, then got off the road farther then the shoulder.......walked to a freight yard and asked for help to change the tire. Two hours later I was back on the road. Oh, did I mention that it was 98 degrees and I was in black pants and a black shirt? Yup.......how dumb was that?

By the way, no federale presence at all, no additional road blocks and no one trying to run me off the road........very, very quiet.........until I rolled into Texas. Texas looks like a "failed" state, if police presence is the key factor. Counted over 20 State Troopers cars before I got to San Antonio.
AND more......many more later on. I had forgotten how important "law abiding" is in the USA.
Geez............

But it is a distant memory since I'm on the water. At the water everything is insignificant, even me!

Surf, seagulls and sun

I'm at the beach, in Texas - Woo hooo. Slept to the sound of surf last night, ahhhhhhh. Walked the beach yesterday a couple of times............looked for shells. Beach equals paradise, for me.
Gotta go, the seagulls are calling.

Life is good!

Life is about the journey, not the destination!

On Thursday, twice, this saying was either said or written to me. It made me sit up and take notice. I'm such a goal oriented person that I'm usually thinking about the destination......I also blame it on my Dad who when we would go on road trips turned into Attila the Hun. We would go from Chicago to Shreveport, La. and I doubt we had more then two potty stops. The same in reverse. It was always about getting there, in record time. Just one example of many.

Anyway, there are all kinds of fun things going on in my life right now. All of which, for once, I'm going to keep to myself. And so, having heard that phrase twice on Thursday, I stepped back and made a mental adjustment to enjoy the journey - all of it - and the heck with the destination that I had in mind.

And, the fun part is just wondering where the journey is going to take me. Maybe NOT to the destination I had in mind................at all. Life IS an adventure, isn't it?

Outsider Art - Inside and Out

I'm a varied interest person. That's a polite way of putting it.........

One of my wacky passions is seeing outsider environments. I make a trip each year called "The Eyeopener Tour" during the Memorial Day holiday. This will be my fourth trip with this fun, knowledgeable and collecting group.

Some of the things we'll see and do for five days is see The Tile House, Tinkertown and The Casa de Colores in Albuquerque. Then we'll head to Santa Fe to the Museum of Intl Folk Art and the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum. Georgia was NOT an outsider artist but a skilled and trained artist.

Outsider artists are self-taught. They typically "make their art" out of a compulsion to create and not for monetary gain. There are and were many itinerant black artists in the early part of the 20th century who chronicled their lives in many ways, not just paint on canvas but in whirlygigs, signs, constructions and environments around and in their homes. It is absolutely fascinating to me to see these creations. Some works such as Bill Traylor who was discovered I believe in the mid 50's in Alabama sold his work at that time for mere dollars - his work now is in the six figures at times. There are many others with similar stories.

I'll never forget Foreverton in Baraboo Wisconsin. I was utterly speechless when we arrived at the acres and acres of creations created out of recycled factory parts. Some, twenty, thirty feet high. It has been featured in many TV specials along with others I have seen. Rodin's sculptures, in my estimation, were no grander then those seen at Foreverton. I'm sure if you're interested, you can put that in your search engine and be amazed too.

Edward James sculpture gardens at Las Pozas in Xilitla, Mexico is considered a "premier" outsider environment. It is worth the drive to see. More amazing then Foreverton.

We will visit the homes and studios of some of these artists. They have no pretention (my kind of people) and graciously welcome us into their homes, which are usually very humble abodes.
Most of these artists are astonished at the attention that is lavished on them and don't understand what all the fuss is about.........to them it's just something "they have to create".

It often reminds me of being in the simple villages of Mexico when a Great Master welcomes you graciously into their homes.

A course at Rice University many years ago introduced me to the galleries that represent some of these people. In addition, the depth and breadth of the work is astounding. In Europe it is called Art Brut.

Many people collect the work of these people - I being one of them - BUT since I have reached critical mass, I doubt I will be buying anything this year..............Mr "No Bull" still sits proudly in the dining room, and Sam the Dot Man's Lighted Church is on the armoire in the bedroom.....Just a few of many treasures. I am going to attempt to curb my "overwhelming impetuousness". Ha.

The Kohler Foundation is one of the largest financial contributors to maintaining and supporting the environments as well as assisting the artists. There are many other institutions and benefactors.

If you would like to be inspired by something totally different then the normal definition of art, here are some sites to look at.

http://www.detourarttravels.blogspot.com/ http://www.orangeshow.org/ http://www.narrowlarry.com/ www.junglegossip.com

Another "happy trail" for me!

Married, Gay or Leaving on Tuesday

Yes, that's what they say about all the men in San Miguel. The ones that are here and it IS pretty true. So taking a page from "the men", I'm leaving next Tuesday - final destination Houston, but maybe a few detours along the way.

We'll just see what "strikes my fancy". I'm driving, have plenty of books on tape. The open road makes me sigh.........

Stay tuned.

Matilda Isabella in a Babushka

I've said since she was a wee little thing that Matilda is soooooooo intelligent. I have six grandchildren now and all are beyond special. Matilda is learning beyond her age. Of course it is with the BIG help of her Mom and Dad, the "Gypsy Kids".



Lisa has been teaching her to "sign" since she was about eight months old. When I was at their house in December she was signing when she wanted milk, more, and a few other things. I was astonished. How cool is that? And, how smart!



It would never have occured to me to teach a child to sign that young. But, Lisa is brilliant too and she started it. Ok, now you are going to be astonished when I write the list that this 15 month old baby can sign........



dog, more, daddy, eat, yummy, where, what, banana, apple, bird, up, milk, hello, hat, shoes, frog, cheese, elephant, book (which means read to me), shirt, drink, baby, all done, bear, flower (which is accompanied by the crinkled nose and the sniffing sound), sleep and telephone. Just think how helpful that is for the parents for the baby to tell them those things.



Good grief, I better get busy and study my "signing". I'm going to have to be able to keep up with this kid! I suppose next, she'll be fluent in Spanish, since her mother is fluent.



Now, if I could just be as technologically savvy as the my seventeen year old and other grandchildren, I'd be perfect.



Want to learn to sign with me? Here's two sites. http://www.signingsavvy.com/ and www.commtechlab.msu.edu/sites/aslweb/browser.htm Wonder if I can sign "Capt. Morgan's with lime, por favor". Ha.

A Personal Choice? Suicide.

I had this discussion yesterday with a friend. It's a subject, suicide, that I know well. My husband, the father of my children, the only man I was ever married to, took his life thirty-one years ago today. Usually the year passes and I don't think about it much. After all, thirty-one years is a very long time.

But, because of the discussion yesterday and the fact that this subject is so taboo, I decided today to write about it. My friend said yesterday that I'm the "queen of the upbeat". Aah, yes, but that has been a choice. I've been to the other side and the upbeat one is a much easier way to live.

I find it interesting how many people's lives have been touched by suicide - a parent, a sibling, or a good friend or relative who left from suicide. Yet, the subject never comes up unless they know that you too have been touched by it. It is such an undiscussed subject. Sadly. It's as if it is a "dirty" subject - something that sex used to be eons ago. And yet, I wonder, if it didn't have such a stigma attached to it if more people couldn't be saved?

In my husband's case, he had been abused continuously as a child by a step father. I had never encountered anything like his demons. I was 19 to his 20 when we met. I loved him and thought loving someone could make them well. As the years went by, professional help was tried, but, to no avail. Very sad.

When he died no one wanted to reminisce about his life, his humor, his kindnesses or anything else. So, I kept it to myself, except with the three children that were left behind. Those conversations were tenative at first, but now I share all kinds of tender and funny stories with them as well as they do with me. Time does heal.

The photo above was taken by my mother-in-law at the beach in Biloxi. I never saw the photo until 2004 when Jennifer had found it in her grandmother's possessions and had it blown up and had it hanging in her kitchen on the wall. I seldom cry, but when I saw it I burst into tears. Not out of sadness, but for the fact that she took a photo of such a beautiful day and wanted to have it around to remember. Aaah, those innocent times - I at 22 - he at 23. Thankfully, we cannot see the future.

So, the discussion yesterday was about ill health and "checking out" which was the phrase used yesterday. Hmm. I have to admit I sure wouldn't want to linger for years with some horribly debilitating disease. So, when is suicide a personal choice and when is it just NOT something that you should do, because of those left behind? Or is everyone's life their own business and everyone has the right...............When is a personal choice..........selfish?

"Labeling" my life!

Oh heck, I don't really mean labeling my life, but labeling the posts about life and other things in the last couple of years.

Being an Aries, I'm a broad stroke person. Not a tedious detail person. No I like the "big picture" scenario............always.

But, I have decided I need to organize the blogs so if I want someone to read all the blogs on my "travels" or some other category they can click on that and see all of them. I started labeling two days ago. Lordy, it is beyond tedious.

Now, someone out there needs to tell me how I get those labels on the side of the blog below the blogroll so people can click on them. I tried to figure it out last night for over an hour and rather then throw the computer out the door, I shut it off.

HELP! I can build buildings, I can raise kids, I can love life, but this @#$%^ computer drives me off the edge sometimes..........well frequently.

Tuesday Market

I haven't written or been to the Tuesday Tianguis since last October when I was looking for "cold weather gear" for my winter trip to Colorado in December. Today I went for an entirely different reason.

Remember those "tight" jeans I wrote about in March when I had lost 32 pounds. Well, they are now baggy jeans. Yup, now it's 42 pounds! They say in Texas that if what you say is true then it's not bragging - so I'm NOT bragging, I'm just telling the truth.

I went in search of white jeans or some lightweight pants since I'm heading to the "water" and a few other places. Ha, this is what I came home with - three swimsuits, two of which look good. AND four shirts, one a beautiful cornflower blue color. NO pants. Guess I'm going to have to get those in Texas where I can try them on. Total spent about $23 US.....such a deal. Great brands too.

All this was accomplished in about an hour! I did stop and look at birds, bunnies, and a few other assorted animals. I should take photos, but it never occurs to me til I get back home. I promise I'll do it soon - well, when I get back here in June.

I sure was happy I wasn't buying anything for COLD weather - like coats and mittens and hats. All of which I left in Colorado!

My "Magic Carpet" Ride

For twenty years, all I had to do was sit on my drafting stool at the old wooden drafting table. It was a gift from the most talented architect I've ever known. The world would disappear.

Truly, I could take a blank sheet or sheets of paper for plans and sit there for eight hours at a time and be surprised that it had not been a minute or two when I looked up and saw dark sky.

The most delightful and creative time of my life was starting with a blank sheet of paper and creating from four walls, or more, a new restaurant, resort or retail store. It was so great to be "leading edge" and not know it or care. Many a new concept, that is now a chain of restaurants, were born right on that table.

As the business got larger and busier, my time on my "magic carpet" rides became shorter and shorter. Until one day I realized I didn't have time to create and was, instead, operating a business! That had not been my intention. I eventually downsized and went "back to the board" as we called it.

I miss that part of my life, the creative process. The exhilaration of seeing what I had drawn on paper become a real, live, operating and money making venture. I was amazed for all those years that I could have so much fun and be paid well for the pleasure!

The reason this has come up is because I lugged that drafting table to Mexico. I still had a very large project in Florida that was ongoing. But, I had no room for the table and gave it to a brilliant couple of childrens' book authors and illustrators. They have lovingly used it for all their creative endeavors. Now they are leaving San Miguel and selling everything. They asked if I wanted the table back - ahhhh, it took me four days to get up the courage and determination to say "Sell it". It is the last connection to my other life.

No more "magic carpet" rides for me - at least with that table.

Easter Time

I have been flooded with memories this weekend of Easter Past. I've always loved this holiday - the beginning of spring. The joy and delight of the children in dyeing Easter eggs and having all the family together are fond, fond memories. It's times like these when I wonder what the heck I'm doing living in Mexico.

In years past, many years past, planning for Easter began at least a month before because when we were poor - I would get three yards of fabric for $1 at Hancock's Fabrics and make little dresses for the girls and short knee pants for John. Sometimes all the fabric matched, other times not.

BUT they always had a new outfit for Easter. Then I would make their Easter baskets weaving ribbons through previous year's baskets and making all kinds of things to put in their baskets. I even made baskets for them while they were in high school. They always looked forward to the goodies in them. And, it was a treat for me to make them.

THEN there was always Easter dinner. Ham, au gratin potatoes, brocolli casserole, other veggies and everyone's favorite, Angel Food cake with whipped cream for the frosting. IF I ever tried to deviate, a large uproar would take place. I can cook all of the above with my eyes closed. I've done it so much. Lots of people would show up and somehow there was ALWAYS enough food for everyone. I do have a tendancy, even today, to cook more food then needed from those days when people would just show up.

So now it is the grandkids. I DO talk to each of them on Easter morning and find out who found the most eggs in the family - it now is Emma almost every year. I hear where their baskets were hidden and it almost brings me to tears to not be there to see this. I'm really a softie for tradition and kids. But, talking to them is not the same as the excitement of waking up early and being out on the dew laden grass hunting for eggs and Easter baskets. To hear their squeals of delight is as sweet as hearing the church bells here in San Miguel.

All in all, I'm SO lucky to have all the memories of Easter Past.

Processions of Good Friday - San Miguel Style

Good Friday is the busiest day of pagentry in San Miguel. Many people position themselves (me included in years past) by 10AM for the ceremony of Pontius Pilate, the soldiers and all the rituals that begin at noon at the church next to the Parroquia. It is quite a spectacle and has been held yearly, except for in the 1930's for over 200 years. I doubt the costumes were as elaborate then as now. I often wonder who makes all these magnificent items. The noon procession leaves from the church led by these lanterns.

Then the acolytes, or young boys, who look so solemn and dedicated along with the men carrying the crosses and those helping them, proceed.

Again, as in the Palm Sunday procession, many generations take part in these events. In interviews that I've read of the participants, many of the adults now taking part have been doing so for 20 to 25 years. First they started as young children. It is a huge honor to be able to participate in these ceremonies.

The Roman soldiers have quite amazing costumes along with their swords and shields. Aren't they grand looking? I didn't photograph the part where they are lashing Jesus with thorns and branches and those things because it is too upsetting to me.

So, another confession, these photos were taken two years ago. Last year I went to a passion event outside of town where they actually hung three men with ropes from the cross. It was traumatizing to see in person. I didn't go back there this year. Instead I have hunkered down at home. There are a bazillion people in town. I've seen all of these procesions for eight years and also seen them blowing up the Judases, which I can hear, as I write this blog.

Tomorrow we will be able to exhale as all the tourists head home and life returns to tranquility.

We will have very few tourists from now until midi-June when the "sweatbirds" start arriving from Southern climes. Oh happy days.............

Happy Easter!

DON'T try this at home!

I'll blame it on the two cups of coffee on the roof terrace this morning. I was full of energy. More then usual.

Never decide to carry a huge plant DOWN the stairs to put someplace else until you have made sure it will fit. Chances are you'll have to carry it back up to its original spot. THAT happened this morning.


Never step on the cat's tail accidently because she WILL turn around and wop you and you'll bleed.

Never use a ladder precariously up against a tree to cut a dead limb off the avocado tree. It WILL fall on your head when it falls.

AND finally, don't listen to Honky Tonk music, such as Ray Price - "For the Good Times".
Good golly, it WILL make you cry.

ALL of this today, and it's not even noon yet!

Stations of the Cross - San Miguel Style

I remember as a young girl going to Mass and dreading the Stations of the Cross because it usually included incense. Incense for some reason made me sick to my stomach and then I would faint. Yes, what a great way to be religious.........but, that was inside of a church. BUT in San Miguel, as you can see, the Stations of the Cross are cantera and built into the walls outside. Most of the time they are just the nicho, without anything in them, and we all forget that they are there. Not at Easter time though. The older women and their daughters and other family members spend much time with flowers, wheat grass, oranges and all the other symbolism for the Death and Resurrection. Some Stations are more elaborate then others as shown by the first and second stations.

It is truly a treat to walk down the hill and pass these stations on my way to wherever I'm going and admire the artistry and talent of the local people. Many of the statues that are used are family heirlooms and protected and saved all year just for the honor of being used in this way, once a year in public, (although they are used in the family homes for all occasions).

The most magnificent spectacle to me is the way they use the jacaranda blooms, grasses and other flower petals to make a carpet around the stations. The fragrance as you walk and possibly step on a petal or two is as though you are walking on a path in the woods.

A treat for all the senses...............

Movin', Movin', Movin'

If any of you have seen the movie Madagascar, there is a theme song titled the same as this blog.

My grandkids and I always dance, or sashay as we say in Texas, out of the theater with that music in our ears.

So, I'm "movin', movin', movin," down the road for the Month of May and possibly some of June.

Heck, I might leave even sooner and hang out at South Padre for a week before I roll into Houston and Galveston. I DO need some beach time and walking time on the sand. Time for reflection, which is always best near the water.

I'm going to hang out in Houston and Galveston with the gang and the family. Then I'm going to fly to Denver and onward to Ft. Collins to hug and snuggle with Matilda Isabella. It sure will be better this time and I pray the temperatures will be significantly higher then the 8 degrees when I was there in December.

THEN I'm flying to Albuquerque to hook up with outsider art collectors for an Eyeopener Tour of New Mexico. All kinds of wild and wacky things planned with that bunch of friends. It was meant to be - one seat left, just for me! I've traveled with these people many times and what fun it is...........

I'll then fly back to Houston and I have no idea what my plans will be by then, because it will be the end of May. Hopefully in all of that time I can sail. I have a GREAT need to be on the water - GREAT NEED.

Doesn't that all sound like fun? It will be. I'm not letting any grass grow on these gypsy feet!

Born during the War

She was born a few months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Not an auspicious time to enter this world. A difficult time for the family who already had two children and now a third. The dad had been drafted and was ready to leave for basic training. If you had three kids, you weren't drafted, but the unborn one didn't count.

Back in those days there weren't daycare centers so as an alternative some children were housed at orphanages as the moms had to work while the husbands went to war. So when the baby was about six months old, she was taken to such a place but, wouldn't eat and cried all the time, so she was brought home and her older sister, who was eleven took care of her, sometime. She stated once that her life was never the same once the baby came. I bet it wasn't.

So, that's how I entered the world. Maybe that's why I have the strong determination to take care of myself and enjoy every minute of my life. Who knows?

Yup today is my birthday - 67, I absolutely cannot believe I'm that old. AND, sorry I do think
67 is old. 66 wasn't nearly as bad.

I'm off to the gym to "stem the tide" of aging and gravity. Ha.

WHAT a relief!

Yesterday I bounced out of bed and headed for the gym arriving at 8AM - locked doors. I sat in the car searching my brain trying to imagine what holiday, saint's day or whatever would keep it from being open (there are a lot of those). So, I got out, walked up to the door and discovered the gym doesn't open til 9 on Saturday and 10 on Sunday. Can you imagine that? Back in the old days I used to be at the gym in Houston at 5:30AM (that's when I was working). So I harummped myself back into the car and drove home by going through town - which I usually avoid.

As I passed the jardin I did a double take. It was fenced and had a gate with an electronic monitor. I almost ran up onto the curb. Luckily at 8AM I was the only car on Calle Sollano.
Good grief I couldn't believe my eyes. And then I remembered Morelia last September and thought it was for Holy Week. I was so dismayed thinking that would be there to see for a week.

So, I reluctantly walked down the hill with my digital camera today to go to a friend's house to watch the Palm Sunday parade. I have never gotten up and seen that parade in all the years I've been here. Well, lo and behold - no fence, no eletronic gate, nada. What a relief.

Here's the real story. The President flew in for the dedication of the restoration of Allende's home into a museum and therefore the tightened security. It appears from grousing taxi drivers that they don't want the President, whoever he may be, to come here if "that kind" of security is used in San Miguel - their words, not mine. Interesting.

So, it was all light and airy today - no signs of anything amiss and San Miguel was back to its open and charming self.

What a relief!

And the Beat Goes On.............

Sometimes life is like music - uptempo and then sometimes like a dirge. Today it's kinda the latter. BUT hopefully by tomorrow, Jimmy Buffet will be playing "Margaritaville" or some honky tonk song will have me dancing again.

I won't be going to the Sea of Cortez or any of the other places I wrote about last week. The fling has flung..........

So, I'll pick up my dashed dreams and carefully pack them away in my travel bag and hope for another day. I've already emailed to friends in the USA about some of the things I had planned to do, but cancelled, to see if they are still doable.

I don't tend to "let the grass grow under my feet". NOT these Gypsy Feet.

As my Dad used to say, "There's always another streetcar". Let's hope so...........

The White Knuckled Drive - Through Morelia!

Now I must tell you it is a simple and beautiful drive from San Miguel to Morelia. Ten years ago there was not nearly as much signage as today, nor was there a cuota. But still, it was pretty simple, even then. Until you try to go to a specific destination in the city! In this case it was the Via Montana Resort up on a hill overlooking the city, in a residential area. I could not begin to count the number of times we passed the sign that was no larger then an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper back then. We figured that no one drives there. Therefore no need for a visible sign. I presume they all take taxis. Ahh, therein was our difference.

Kay was driving. I had the cell phone and the receptionist on the phone, who DID speak some English. It didn't matter. We just had a heck of a time finding the turn off. When we finally did and began to wind up the hill into the residential area, what would you believe? A horse walked out of someone's garage. Kay and I laughed. We did finally arrive and thoroughly enjoyed the property, the views, and the food. We spent a few days there since I was doing "research" for a resort I was working on in Arizona. Well, that was MY excuse.

Then we ventured forth to Patzcauro, Ihautzio to see my great friend Arminda, and ultimately over to Janitzio, early one morning. I think Kay and I were the only gringas on the island. It was very early - maybe 7:30AM. A fisherman started talking to us and Kay was deep in conversation with him as I dropped back to take this photo. It's a favorite - my dear Hippy Dippy friend, Kay and this teeny tiny fisherman.

As we came around the corner, we heard a tuba band and little drums. So, we sat on a step and waited to see what was going to happen. No one other then food vendors around. They seemed all atwitter. And with that, a group of fishermen and their wives came around another corner. The normally quiet and staid women were flipping their ever present aprons up and the women were dipping and dancing. It turned out to be a holy day in honor of the fishermen.

What a treat that was to see! Riding back on the ponga to Patzcauro, Kay and I just had these contented smiles on our faces.

We spent a week in Patzcauro at some great friends' house - Meg and Fred - who have some of the most beautifully manufactured furniture to wholesale in all of Mexico.

Great memories and adventures. Patzcauro continues to be one of my favorite places in Mexico.

A Message from "The other side"

If you don't believe in life after death, you might not want to bother to read this blog. I've never been a "woo woo" person, but I have to tell you that I do believe that the spirits of our departed can send us messages through nature. It happened to me this week.

The above photo is the garden that I made for Jennifer five years ago. These butterfly lillies usually bloom in three to four blooms at a time. Never prolifically. Imagine my surprise on Saturday, when I was kinda bummed out that I wasn't in San Carlos, that I walked out and the lillies were blooming with abandon. I counted them at the time and there were 37 blooms. I didn't think anything of the number. I just didn't get it.

I walk by that garden several times a day and it is the first thing I see when I come through the gate. The butterfly lillies were Jen's favorite and she had them in her garden in Houston. The little boy sculpture I had given to her and she kept it in her house rather then in her garden - she loved it so much and it was her "little Christopher". I brought it to Mexico five years ago to add to her garden.

So tonight, I "got it" - the symbolism. I walked out at dusk and for heaven's sake, there were MORE lillies. I counted them - 42! She got sick at 37 and died at 42. Wow, a sweet little message from my precious daughter. "Thanks Jen - I know you're near."

I'm Pregnant!

April Fool's! Ha, gotcha.