Friday, January 6, 2017

Bobbing along the dusty trail, The Year is Round, and Jesus is still scowling.


We walk in our village almost every day on one of a half-dozen favorite routes. Hilde tore two ligaments in her left rear before Christmas, so these days when she musters the energy to go, we go slow and are choosing paths with fewer cobbles and more flat surfaces.

We see neighbors who tend cows and greet us warmly. Ibis, pelicans and egrets from Lake Chapala visit our little reservoir. Street dogs follow along for most or part of our walks. Sometimes we stop and eat a taco on the square, sometimes we stop and do our fruit and vegetable shopping. When the hot pink sign advertising ice and charcoal is taped to our corner store we now know it's fiesta time in the village or somebody died in the hood. Either way, we know there will be fireworks and Kino will need his bed moved to the bathroom..

Alvaro missed Ev while he was in the states for over a month.
Asked after him every. single. time. I saw him.







If Ev isn't with me, I dawdle more, sitting for long stretches on a rock under the eucalyptus trees. I hope the dogs will run and play but they don't. They lay at my feet.

After a couple of years here I'm beginning to recognize patterns. I know in winter the sun will be low enough to blind me in the kitchen in the late afternoons. I know when we break out long pants OR long sleeves, my neighbors will be bundled up in layers of fleece. I know when the streams will run, and when the dogs will be needing a hose down when we get home. I know now when bougainvillea will be at its prime, when the dry corn stalks will rustle so loud it sounds like water. We're coming in now to the dusty part of the year. MBS (Mexicans Burning Shit as Evboy says) fills the air with smoke and makes for stupendous sunsets. Bricks are being made.  Bedding is being washed because we can count on it being dry in a day. I have to dig out my chapstick.


The black one wants to
kick Kino's ass.

Kino, Lame Boy and Hilde.

New additions to the family.

Kino and Lame Boy giving 'em hell
because they can. And they're behind the fence.

I was excited to discover the woman who owns this store
also works at the bakery. So NOW, I know
where to get the good bread if the bakery is closed.

It's not a coconut, not a date, not an
acacia-but it is prolific.



Bricks drying.

Home again, home again, jiggety jog.