Something for Everyone

A veeeery slow road where I could ride with the windows down and hi five the schoolkids, watch the mamas hanging wash on the fence and smell the smells of people cooking lunch on open fires in front of their houses:

A smooth road where Evdad could crank up Stevie Ray Vaughn really loud, eat peanuts and drive really fast:

Geothermal activity to wonder about:

Geothermal activity to soak in:

Horses to ride confidently:

 Stupid horses that try to bite you when you whisper in their ear that you've always been a little afraid of their species but you feel like today might be the day you overcome that fear just a little because you know her name is Alicia and you have a friend named Alicia that is kind and wonderful and you just feel it in your bones today is going to be a good horse riding day and maybe she'll cut you some slack and not try to knock you off with a tree limb.

 No, I didn't fall off.  I just put myself down flat on the earth to try to fully absorb what was happening around me.  We were in a group of five who all knew how to be still and quiet.  We stayed still and quiet for hours.

In Mexico, monarch butterflies are thought to be departed souls.  In Michoacan, there is a magical place where migrating monarchs return every year around Dia de los Muertos.  They overwinter in the high altitude and in late February they begin mating rituals.  When its cool, they clump in the trees, conserving heat. The clumps get so heavy, tree branches sometimes snap under the weight. Check this out on the national geographic channel because I was so busy forgetting to breathe and clutching my hands on my chest I couldn't think about getting a good photo.  If you click on the picture, you can see the clumpage a little better.

When the sun peeps out from behind the clouds, the butterflies gently release themselves out of their clumps and swish around looking for their perfect partner.  Even I could hear the sound.  My words and pictures are not enough to do the experience justice.  I hope you get to go someday.

There was mechanics of butterfly sex to wonder about:

See the two black dots on the lower wings near the abdomen?  That means it's a guy butterfly.  He'll be dead soon.  Happy ending?  Guess it depends on who you ask.

I'm adding these pictures that I received from a new friend I met while on this trip.  She did a wonderful job of capturing the essence of the day.  Thanks, Sara Kearney!

 A butterfly of butterflies, can you believe it?

 Steep trail.  Poor horses.  Ev says he will walk it on his own two legs next time.

It's a Good Idea to say Yes, even if you're feeling timid.

 This adorable man is our veterinarian.  Ev and I met him one day when we were walking the streets just looking to see what we could see.  He has a little storefront that carries flea powder and chicken scratch-the birdseed caught my eye so we stepped in.  His young daughters were there, they showed off their English counting skills and bagged my birdseed for me.  Juan Carlos is a large animal vet, mostly taking care of cows and sheep and pigs but "of course, senora! I will come to your house and vaccinate your cat. And will you teach English to the people of my town?"(just like that)

We made arrangements for a home visit for 11am Saturday.  Like most men in the area, he works other jobs during the week.  On Saturday, eleven came and went.  Noon came and went.  The cat, Mancha, was locked in the house. My neighbor's Xolo dropped in for a pedicure and I was afraid Mancha would get spooked and miss her shots.  Mancha began to growl and moan at the door-one of the most horrific sounds I've ever heard.  I was just about ready to give up hope when finally, covered in mud, the vet arrived.  "The bull, senora? She ran off and what was I to do? I ran after her."  OK. Fine

After the shots and pedicure, we sat and talked about English lessons.  He can provide the place, I can provide the expertise.  As he left, and sort of as an aside or afterthought, Juan Carlos invited us to his house on Sunday for "a little food with a few friends".  And "my brother in law is the President of Ixtlahuacan, you should meet him."  He drew me a map.

When it came time to go, Ev chickened out.  Grudgingly, I went by myself.  Tough stuff.  I almost chickened out twice on the way there.  When I saw the venue, I really almost turned around.  Like many of the houses in my town, the street view is rough.  Juan Carlos spotted me and pulled me into his home, heart, family and friends.  In Spanish, he said, "I am busy and I apologize for not being able to attend to you but go with confidence (a little push) these are all friends here and you are welcome."

His darling daughter spotted me, grabbed my hand and said (in Spanish), "where is your husband?"  I told her he was embarrassed because he didn't speak Spanish, so he stayed home.  She said, "I could talk to him in English." "What could you say to him?"  A sly grin, and perfectly enunciated English, "teacher may I please go to the bathroom?"

This was borrega being cooked.  Some of the best food I have ever had in my life.  Seriously.  He also had a huge pan of ceviche on ice with tostadas to go with.  A vat of refried beans.  A vat of "jugo the borrega" which turned out to be simmered bones with lime and chile. Killer.  And then these guests making piles of tortillas faster than we could eat them:

We tried to entice Ev to come by sending him a picture of me in front of this big slab of dorado being grilled with pineapple, onion and peppers.  No go.

Open for Bidness

The roses are responding to a little fertilizer.

Fuchsia I bought last Sunday at the market for two dollars equivalent.

When I went to bed last night this whole branch was curled tightly into a ball the size of a salad plate.  It's been fun to watch it unfurl this morning.

It rained last night and birds are taking their bath on the pool cover puddles.

Membrillos, our bread and butter, are beginning to bloom.

Turtles sun on the edge of our aljibe but they haven't yet figured out I won't hurt them.  They don't stick around to pose.  The small bushes in the background are membrillos, the larger ones are pomegranates.

The casita.

Tomato seeds have sprouted their second set of leaves.

A volunteer in the garden-will be interesting to see what it is.

La Casa Grande

My sorry attempt at planting a "row".

Hilde, in her spot.

Kimble has him hooked.  Thanks, Elyse, for the book recommend.

Back to normal.  Motorcycle gear on the dining room table, exactly where I wish it wasn't.