Winter windows

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Bedroom view which is full of golden datura much of the year. But not now.
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Living room. We made the stained glass years ago.
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Dining room. That’s the new yard patio out there.

IT’S COLD outside, but the view from inside is nice nonetheless.

The skies are blue, the air is chill, and all is right with the world, if you don’t think about the lack of gasoline. But I filled up yesterday, so I’m happy.

The cold I caught over two weeks ago is finally winding down, and it taught me a hard lesson. Don’t remove my long johns in winter.

I donned them in December, and later removed them for just one day, 24 freaking hours, and that’s when I caught the cold.

We’ll be heading downtown before noon today to make yearly payments. Property taxes on two houses and water bill on one, the Downtown Casita. These are done in person at City Hall.

I paid the property tax on the Mexico City condo online last week. Water bills for the Hacienda are paid monthly, same for Mexico City.

The only other annual fee is that for two cars. I do that online too. Oh, yes, the post office box. I paid that at the post office two weeks ago. About 15 bucks. All these things are quite reasonable, a pittance compared to what you Gringos and Canucks pay where you live, poor babies.

Inexpensive living with wonderful window views.

And all the tacos you can eat.

Savior of penises

ALMOST SIXTEEN years ago, I improved a young boy’s life by saving him from circumcision as a baby. He did not learn of this huge favor till yesterday. He was very appreciative and rightly so.

And, yesterday too, I repeated the favor for another youngster, also a relative as is the first fellow.  The first boy is a nephew. This second one is a relatively newborn grandson of a sister-in-law. The child’s mother casually mentioned that her baby would soon be circumcised.

Oh, no! I erupted. Don’t torture the child for absolutely no good reason, or any other reason, for that matter. Child abuse!

new imageSince I am in good standing in the family, the Old (Wise) Gringo, I prevailed, and the child will be spared the razor.

That this ancient Jewish religious rite not only continues into modern times but has been picked up by much of Western Civilization, people who aren’t even Jewish, is incredible. The good news is that in recent decades opposition has been growing. There is a Movement!

It’s for hygiene, many doctors still parrot. Poppycock! If you can wash behind your ears and between your toes, you can wash there too. And if you’re still in diapers, your mother can do it for you.

I wish someone had saved me from the blade those many decades back, but no one did. No one cared enough.

But I can save others. I owe it to my brothers.

Happiness returns

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The sun is shining. The frog is happy.

IT’S BEEN MIGHTY miserable hereabouts the last few days. No sun, plenty cold, no gasoline. But this day dawned better.

The sun is out and bright. Air is cool, not cold. Gasoline remains hard to find, but it’s an imperfect world in which we reside.

Noonish, I was sitting on the yard patio. That’s its new name, nothing high-falootin’ or esoteric. The intention was to read my Kindle and relax beneath the umbrella, but I took the above photo instead.

Then I came indoors to check on the lunch I was fixing. My child bride was out in her pastry kitchen all morning working on tomorrow’s goodies to hawk on the downtown plaza.

Barbecue chicken in the crock pot, tomato soup (canned Campbell’s. I’m not particular), and a pile of little pastas to round it off.

food
Simple meal for simple people.

I spent much of the morning transitioning to a new web browser, Vivaldi, which is quite nice. I shun the big boys, especially anything related to Google. For the last couple of weeks I used Maxthon (second time), but it proved too buggy. Plus, it’s Chinese, and I prefer to dodge stuff from China and Russia. China is communist, and Russia is, well, Russian.

Google is communist too.

Another notable event in this happy day occurred when I heard the garbage truck’s bell  clanging on the back street. Usually, I just ignore it due to laziness because I normally leave garbage bags at a dumpster on my way downtown in the afternoon. But the gas crisis inspired me to get off my duff and walk down the street to the truck with a 15-peso tip.

Late afternoon will find me on the big plaza downtown with a coffee, perhaps a chocolate-chip cookie and the Kindle. A happy day.

Early bird gets the gas

YESTERDAY MORNING, still partially in pajamas, and still dark outside at just before 7 a.m., I headed out the gate in the Honda, hunting gasoline.

thFor those who don’t know, our new president has severely reduced gasoline supplies to much of the nation in an impossible-to-comprehend tactic to end pipeline theft.

I passed one Pemex station, which was dark. Farther, I passed another Pemex station, which was also dark. I continued and hung a right on the ring road. There in the distance, on the right side, I saw a parked car with blinkers flashing. Bingo!

I knew there was a gas station there, but people waiting does not mean the station is open, and I couldn’t even see how long the line was just yet. Sometimes, they’re half-a-mile long or more.

I drew closer. I was the fifth customer in line, and the station was open for business! It was a G500 station, one of the new brands that have entered Mexico over the past few years. The wait was no more than five minutes because all the pumps were working.

The previous fill-up was done Dec. 31 when I got wind of a gasoline shortage in the state capital. I immediately leaped into the Honda, found a station and filled ‘er up. It was definitely full because I watched the pump turn off automatically. Three times.

On sitting in the car, I was surprised to see the tank read 3/4ths full.  The gauge was malfunctioning. What a time to do so! It remained on 3/4ths for the next two weeks, not budging a centimeter.

By Sunday, I was getting edgy about the remaining gas. If the motor stops, so does the power steering and power brakes. You don’t want that to happen all at once while barreling down the highway.

But the Goddess loves me. When I filled up yesterday morning, the gas gauge corrected itself and moved to the full position.

What really surprised me was that I drove for two weeks and had used only one-fourth of the tank. I was sure I was in the bottom fourth, not the top.

So I’m good for another month or more. The Goddess willing, the new president will have turned on the gas taps again to full.

What’s next? He’ll turn off our water?

Later yesterday, the two of us drove the 50 kilometers to the state capital for shopping at Costco and Walmart. We were severely low on high-end vitttles. But now we’ve restocked and can resume normal life.

And I still have way over three-fourths of a tank of gas.