Beneath a cool, blue sky

two
The grass circle behind is where the cursed peach tree lived.

THE PERSONALITY OF Tom Snyder, who hosted the Tomorrow show late nights on NBC from 1973 to 1982, was once likened to a Harley-Davidson with the throttle stuck wide open.

I often remember that line when I think about my child bride because she’s a high-energy sort who almost never relaxes.

I, on the other hand, am an old Vespa stuck on idle.

An obsession she’s resurrected recently is knitting, and she’s very good at it. I took the above photo yesterday while we were enjoying the midday sun on the new yard patio under clear, blue, cool skies.

She’s making a shawl for a niece, Paula Romina, who’s just shy of 2 years old. My bride promises she’ll later knit a sweater for me. I already have two she’s crafted, one a black wool and one a wine acrylic.

Breakfasts have been ratcheted up a notch in recent weeks, emotion-wise, because she watches (on a Samsung tablet) the 7 a.m. press conference given by our doofus, leftist president. That means she arrives at the table around 8 a.m. in a state of high dudgeon. Daily.

She really loathes the prez, who recently compared himself to Benito Júarez, exhibiting an stunning level of hubris. It would be like Trump comparing himself to Abraham Lincoln.

Being an old Vespa, however, I react in a more leisurely fashion.

* * * *

Life goes on

I went to a dentist here in town yesterday at 5. My usual dentist, since 2014, works in the nearby state capital, but I had an issue between Christmas and New Year’s, and he was on vacation.

So I called a young woman dentist here, and she saw me on Christmas Eve day at noon. The issue was resolved, but a small cavity partially below the gum line in the back was discovered. That’s why I saw her yesterday.

She shares a practice with two brothers. The three have different specialties. Their office looks fairly humble from the street, but once you step inside it’s very modern and large. I would recommend them to anyone in town who doesn’t want to drive to the state capital.

Speaking of which, that’s what we’re doing today, driving to the state capital for shopping. Normally, we do that weekly but, due to the gasoline shortage caused by our new doofus president who thinks he’s a reincarnation of Benito Júarez, it’s only the second trip there this month.

The gasoline crisis has vanished for now. Gas stations are open. They either have no line of cars waiting, or the line is very short.

Lord knows what the ding-a-ling is going to pull next.

10-great-white-egret-in-flight-paulette-thomasReturning to the Hacienda about 6:30, I paused at the archway entrance to the veranda.

There was still a good bit of light — the days are getting longer — and I saw a low-altitude, V-formation of white egrets.

Perhaps if I’d returned to the veranda 30 minutes later, I would have seen our bats depart on their nightly bug hunt. Life goes on.

But not for some of those bugs.

Two to tango

WE MEXICANS are really incensed. We have been disrespected, as they say in the ‘hood. Oh, the effrontery!

The pinche (look it up) Gringo President Trump wants to build a wall along the border. What a slap in our faces.

And how undeserving!

We’re mad as hell, and we’re going to stop shopping at Sears, Costco and Walmart. Of course, that would only put the Mexican employees out of work, but it’s a price worth paying, shooting ourselves in the foot.

Those of you above the border cannot imagine how insulted we Mexicans are at this wall idea. Insulted, I tell you!

Here’s a post we might have titled Border Wall for Dummies. It  is the entire nasty matter in a nutshell.

First, both nations are equally — well, almost — at fault. For decades now, both Democrat and Republican administrations have ignored or even tacitly encouraged the immigrant invasion over the southern border.

Second, millions of Mexicans have been sneaking into the United States, tunneling below ground, climbing over fences, flying in with tourist visas and overstaying, backpacking across the arid deserts, you name it.

Some have been my relatives.

And all are in the United States illegally, millions, building neighborhoods, packing “sanctuary cities,” creating Little Mexicos all over the place.

Finding enchiladas has never been so simple.

It finally reached a boiling point for U.S. citizens, and that’s what put Trump into the Oval Office.

Americans are divided almost equally into two camps. On the left are the people who croon Kumbaya, reject national borders entirely and sincerely believe that all peoples, with a tiny bit of effort, can live in eternal peace.

In spite of there being absolutely no historical evidence to support this conviction. Quite the contrary.

It is the addled Flower Power mindset of the 1960s that has filtered down through the generations, and still thrives among a healthy percentage of the population.

These Kumbaya crooners, ironically, are the ones rioting in the streets and punching Republicans in the name of love.

On the Great Divide’s other side are people who believe in borders, who know that a nation is a tribe with a common culture, language, religion, race, something that merits and requires protection.

Reams of historical evidence support this fact.

* * *  *

TWO TO TANGO

Here in Mexico, we have a couple of notorious Gringo enclaves, particularly San Miguel de Allende and Ajijic, Jalisco.

new-imageMexico’s government puts the number of Americans living in Mexico at around 700,000.*

It’s very probable the overwhelming majority are here with visas or — like me — have become citizens, although that’s not very common.

Most are spread out quietly all over the nation, and most mind their own business. Mexican law forbids them from political activity, and marching in the streets waving U.S. flags and demanding “rights” would be outrageous.

You know, like illegals do in the United States.

It would lead to deportation.

Mexicans mostly ignore San Miguel and think it’s a cute place to visit. However, if there were hundreds of San Miguels instead of one, it would be very different.

And it would require hundreds of San Miguels and Ajijics across Mexico to be comparable to what now exists in the United States, to create an equivalency.

If there were hundreds of San Miguels full of Gringos here illegally, refusing to learn Spanish, opening little businesses selling grits, ham and red-eye gravy, there would be a national outcry. We would be apoplectic!

We would go postal!

Then the shoe would be on the other foot, and Mexicans might understand President Trump’s historic trip to the White House with a tad more clarity.

No nation really wants to be multicultural. Just up to a point, it’s interesting. After that, it gets nasty.

(No nation on earth apart from the white populations of North America and Western Europe embraces multiculturalism. Just those lands where hippies reigned in the 1960s. The Soviets shielded Eastern Europe from Flower Power.)

Mexico, in cahoots with the Democrat and Republican political establishments, brought us Trump.

It takes two to tango.

* * * *

* You’ll often read that one million Americans live in Mexico. This is a myth that has existed since before I moved south 17 years ago. I find the official 700,000 number a little difficult to believe, but perhaps it includes part-timers. And perhaps I misread, and it includes all foreigners, not just Gringos.

(Note: I saw on Twitter this morning that our President Peña Nieto has announced a new program to support and facilitate continuing education for young Mexicans who return from the United States. More positive effects from Trump.

(Furthermore, about 60 percent of Mexico’s exports currently go to the United States. Mexico recently announced it will begin widening its trade with other nations. This diversification is a positive thing, bought to us by Trump. )

Top of the world

roofABOUT 8 A.M., I climbed to the roof of the Hacienda with my camera. It was cool and nice.

The days are getting noticeably shorter. It’s still raining every day, but I’m optimistic that will be ending soon. Been raining daily since June, so we’re ready for the seven-month breather. We are very wet.

Thinking on it the other day, it occurred to me that every American I know of down here, either personally or online, is beyond happy to be living in Mexico. I cannot say the same for those above the Rio Bravo where the citizenry seems to be in constant turmoil — doubt, worry and anger.

Comments on news websites, when Mexico is the topic, almost universally reflect an intense dislike of my new nation. If it’s a right-wing news source such as Breitbart, illegal aliens are the cause. If it’s a left-wing website like HuffPost, they think we’re all living in abject poverty and corruption.

Well, think what you want. I love every morning, afternoon and evening of this place.

But I am ready for the rain to peter out.