The Good, The Good, The Bad, The Weird and The Unpronouncible

This post is just a series of random things that are occurring in our universe (and maybe beyond in one case). So here we go.

El gato con sombrero

Siam with serape & pool pals

Lounging by the pool

Gato Glamarosso (I made that word up) -

Some of our more PETA-inclined friends and family strongly inferred that our actions were bordering on animal cruelty when we encased our 18 year old, renally challenged cat in her Kitty Camo carrier and took her on a 3,000 mile road trip without room for a litter box. Well, ha!  Look at this cat.  Never has a feline thrived more robustly.  As you know, I have no tolerance for people who dress up their animals and I assure you that this latest makeover on Siam's part is entirely of her own doing (with a little help from Allison and Janet in furnishing frocks).  Now as she lolls by the pool or decompresses in the recliner our little SOB (no, that's South of Border) gato is totally de la mode.

Chivas soccer youth

Chivas vs Halcones

El perro con fútbol

Youth Soccer IS NOT the Same

In Mexico, a lot of the expat groups sponsor youth soccer teams.  The local businesses can't afford it and the whole ethos of philanthropy is different here.  Here philanthropy is taking care of your extended family, not the society as a whole.  In any case, the Hash House Harriers is sponsoring a soccer team called Chivas.  I thought it was odd that they named a soccer team after a brand of scotch but... whatever. Oh, Michael tells me it is NOT named after the scotch.  Well, I'm kind of bummed..

So Here Is How It Is Different:
1)  There is no grass on the field.  If you are lucky there are no broken bottles or nails;
2)  There are no yelling parents.  There are maybe three or four quiet ones.  The rest are working or off being adults.
3)  Age brackets are for sissies.  While our team is purported to enlist 11-14 year olds it is clear that if IDs were pulled we'd be talking six to fifteen.  Amazingly, the small ones survive.
4)  There are no purebred dogs on leashes.  There are no purebred dogs.  One dog spent a quarter of the game on the field eating the leg of something.
5)  The coach's emphasis is not so much on winning but more on convincing the kids that an afternoon of soccer is a lot more worthwhile than a lifetime (short) working for a drug cartel.  No kidding.

Michael has started taking pictures of the kids.  The younger ones really get excited about this so we are starting to hand out the pictures to them.  It's hard for us, with an obscene number of photos of every phase of our children's lives, to imagine that these kids may not have even a single photo of themselves.

Royal Palm drops its frond

La cucaracha en las palmas

And another frond falls

It's NOT Always Idyllic

I know.  We painted this place as an Eden.  An oasis of relaxation and good feeling.  Well, it's not without its worries.  Just the other night Michael and I were on the front veranda, relaxing with a glass of red wine and making plans to convert our front lawn into a venue for Killer Croquet.  For the uninitiated, Killer Croquet is to croquet as steeplechase is to flat track racing.  As we were discussing wicket placement and outlining possible obstacles there was a hellacious crash and a huge limb and frond from our massive Royal Palm fell right where wicket #3 was planned to go.  "Hmmphf," said Michael, "Perhaps it shall literally be Killer Croquet."  Fortifying ourselves with yet another glass of wine, we went to survey the damage.  We discovered two things:  1) It weighed A LOT and would at least maim a player and; 2) it was filled with cucarachas -- yes the dreaded cockroaches!  That would kill the player if the impact didn't.  What the hell are cockroaches doing living 40 feet up in a palm tree?  Why?  What do they eat?  Who cares?  Another Mexican mystery.

An additional impediment in launching our new game is that croquet sets are virtually unknown and totally unobtainable in Mexico.  Therefore, glass of wine number 3, we have come up with a plan.  We will order a set and have it delivered to an unnamed as yet friend in Boston.  Whenever anyone comes to visit, the entry fee will be transport of several mallets, balls or wickets.  We leave it to you to explain croquet to the Customs folks.

Colima Volcano

An Earthquake... Or Was It

The other night there was an earthquake around 10PM.  Michael was watching TV and I, characteristically, was asleep.  It was an odd one according to Michael because rather than shaking, this one had a large percussive boom and then like a wave of motion.  Then nothing.  Michael came in to check on me.  As many of you may remember our bedroom boasts a fully mirrored ceiling thanks to the gay guys from Guadalajara who built the house for parties and clearly had a serious case of narcissism.  The mirrored ceiling is distressing on many levels but none more so than in the case of an earthquake.  Well, the mirror held and the night passed uneventfully.

The next morning our maid, Nancy, arrived and we were commenting on the earthquake.  She ventured that perhaps it was not an earthquake.   She had heard on the radio that it was, in fact, either space junk or an asteroid and it was believed to have struck earth a mere 8 miles or so away in Jocotepec.  As we spoke, the bomberos (firemen) were combing the mountains and pastures for the offending items.  The next time we saw Nancy we asked her if they had found it.  "Who knows?" she shrugged.  That is so Mexico. We'll never know.

It's Easy for You to Say

Casa Fuerte - Our favorite restaurant in
Tlaquepaque

Another view of the open courtyard of the restaurant

Justin between two of Bustamante's latest sculptures

Learning a foreign language at 60+ years of age presents certain problems not the least of which is that you have lost probably 45-50% of your brain cells by this point.  But we are up to the challenge and doggedly continue to torture the local inhabitants with our hideous variant of what is really quite a beautiful language.  However, we have met our match with the indigenous native languages.  I would say Indian but Justin is here and he'd be all over me for my lack of racial sensitivity.  Allow me a single example: Tlaquepaque.  This is pronounced Clock-a-pock-key and it's anybody's guess what it means.  There are a million of these names.  Okay, I can't help it:  Tzapotzingo (fruit of the Zapote), Xuchitzin (precious flower).  Enough.  I just can't say them.  So, Justin shows up the other day and somehow we get going on Aztec history and he is just spewing these names out like they're John Smith or Pete Jones.  It was quite demoralizing.  Anyway, we are off to Tlaquepaque in a few minutes to take in the sights and do some shopping and eating.  Hopefully Michael will get some good shots and we'll incorporate them into the blog.  Take care all of you.