Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Rough Guide

I bet you saw that picture of TG's walking stick and you thought: "Oh my! who knew June would rough it in Mexico" Sure, yeah...roughing it. Between the wifi and the ipod singing from it's little home; it's more comfortable than my house. The only reason TG fashioned a walking stick from a found branch is for protection against a couple of renegade beach dogs--Black and Tan--who have attacked people. Beach dogs are a rough looking lot. Think Oliver Twist in a dog's body. Many are adopted as pets and frankly, the strays who have been passed over are jealous; you can see it in their forlorn expressions as the better tended mutts pass by their wild brothers and sisters.

It's overcast but warm. This morning, The Girl and I walked into town, foraging for breakfast, fresh tortillas for a few days and fresh chicken for dinner. We found all that we needed.

The first few days in PM, the quarter mile walk into town is an hour long event for me. TG is patient with my picture taking. Today, was no exception. I have about 2000 doorway pictures and added one more to my collection.

After I asked in my pathetic Spanish (a mixture of precognitive gestures and nursery words) to take a picture the tiniest woman led me back through her courtyard to her pride and joy. A magnificent creche, a lovely Christmas tree and a permanent altar to Our Lady of Guadalupe. My patron saint. I think it's the legend which surrounds her. You have to love a woman who descends into the desert and gives you roses.
I was hesitant to take a picture of these things but she turned on the twinkly lights and pushed me forward, pointing to my camera.

not a great picture but you get the idea...

Her attitude was quite different from the lecture I received--after a stair picture--on Santorini a few years ago. I don't have a clue what that Greek woman said to me but I'm sure it would set off a net nanny.

The morning was quiet, little traffic on the street, the work hadn't begun on the condominium project across the street. Now my Beethoven is punctuated by a tile saw and bird calls. The sun threatens to burst onto the scene. The Girl has made a lovely pico and guac snack before we take a bike ride out towards the mangroves to the north.

What a rough life, eh?

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