|Kino has come a long way, greeting street dogs without fear or angst|
|I look forward to chatting with Alvaro every day|
|Roof chicken will be on the chopping block by noon, the chihuahua told me so.|
|back in guard dog position and attitude|
Today I was reflecting on being just past the one year mark. I still notice and appreciate the glorious weather, neon bougainvillea, the tenderly cared for descansos, overburdened pickup trucks leaning careening down the highway, sides of beef piled on sidewalks, 10 styles of mango, being stopped by curious cops just to chat, trotting out to the yard to pick a lime, the kindnesses and encouragement of complete strangers.
What I notice is that I'm not clutching my hands in the market, not screetching for Ev to stop the car so I can take a picture of the giant pile of fresh picked garbanzo on the side of the road, not worrying that I won't be able to remember the exact color of blue of the door I saw, savoring a pineapple because I'm sure I'll never taste one as good again. It seems I've relaxed a little. I can take it all in almost casually because it will still be here tomorrow. I miss the heady rush of novelty, and the heart fluttering moments. What I have are the slightly gleeful looks Ev and I exchange when one or the other says quietly, "wow, this is our life now" or "Want guac with that? Hang on, be right back."