Cleaning the windows

dos
From the living room at 9 a.m.

YESTERDAY, WHILE I was Oiling the Cat, my child bride was not idle. She was cleaning the windows. We are a dual-labor couple. And since I bragged on my work, I’m now giving her equal credit so no one will call me a sexist.

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From the bedroom at the same hour.

It’s been a good morning so far. I have Al Gromer Khan on the music machine in the living room playing Tantric Drums. A touch of incense completes the scene.

Like most of the Hacienda, the window designs are mine, my idea 100 percent. Alas, I hired a crappy carpenter way back then, and the windows have been an ongoing problem, especially from the outside where they have warped.

I also stupidly told the carpenter to include the glass in his work. I did not want to fool with details. Of course, he installed the cheapest, thinnest glass available. I keep meaning to have it all changed, but so far I  have done nothing. Inertia for 17 years.

I imagine these windows will outlast me.

But they look nice, especially on clear, cool, sunny winter days like this one.

Below are two more.

A keen observer will notice that Dining Room window #1 is the only one without the section in the middle that can be opened. It initially was like the others, but there was so much leakage during the annual monsoons that I had it sealed off.

We’ll be installing a canvas awning outside that window in a few weeks. It’s the window most exposed to the elements, not just rain but brutal sunshine which requires the wood to be refurbished every few years.

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Dining room window #1, clean as the whistle.
two
Dining room window #2.

The winning hand

THIS MORNING WAS cold, so I stayed beneath the goose-down comforter even though I was awake, and it was almost 7 a.m., time to begin the day.

My child bride had not said a word, usually an indicator that she’s asleep because if she’s awake, she’s talking. No matter. I reached over and held her hand.

She has sleek, soft, beautiful hands. It’s one of her finest features, and she has lots of lovely features. Her skin is like silk. I made a mental comparison right then and there between the hand I was holding and the hand of my previous wife.

55438_hand_lgThough, oddly, I do not recall the first time I held my child bride’s hand, I do remember the first time I held the hand of my last wife, the second ex, over 40 years ago. We were walking down Esplanade Avenue in New Orleans.

It’s a big step the first time you hold the hand of a person you’re “seeing.” I remember thinking that faraway afternoon on Esplanade Avenue that her hand was a bit pudgy, which was unusual because she was not pudgy at all. Quite the contrary.

It was not unpleasant, but it was slightly pudgy. I’m guessing it’s a European genetic carryover she brings from St. Louis, Missouri, and, even further back, rural ancestors in Alsace-Lorraine. She was a pretty woman, and she had a spectacular butt, which is likely what caught my attention in the first place.

Men are like that.

But my child bride wins, hands down, in the hands department. She also has beautiful legs. I always wanted to be married to a woman with gorgeous gams, and now I am, even though she’s 59 years old. Legs are the last thing to go, she’s told me.

She has slightly Oriental eyes too, which is not rare in Mexico. Probably has to do with those long-ago Chinamen who crossed the Bering Strait, heading south to better beaches.

But I could not see her slanty eyes this morning in the chill, near-dawn darkness under the goose-down comforter. I could only feel that hand, sleek and smooth.

It was so nice.

New Zealand loveliness

A FELLOW ON MeWe posted this, and I loved it. You will too.

These are kids from New Zealand singing Bob Dylan’s classic Mr. Tambourine Man. All of the youngsters are, well, kids singing, with one exception, the one with the great tan.

That one is incredible, and a joy to watch.

One of God’s gifts

chanddra

I’VE GOTTA lot of Mexican relatives. Some are nicer than others, and some are better-looking than others. This is one of the nicer, better-looking ones.

Her name is Chandra. When asked a couple of years ago why she is so pretty, she unhesitatingly responded: Because God made me this way.

Chandra is 8 years old. She has a brother, Jaime, who is also nice and good-looking. Jaime is 12, and he’s teaching himself to play the guitar. He’s also a choirboy.

Chandra and Jaime’s mother is named Alma, which is Soul in English. She is about 34 and quite beautiful. Their father, our nephew, died two years ago of cancer. Those were bad times, but things have improved.

Chandra and Jaime are always glad to see me. I like that.

I’m always glad to see them too.

I saw Chandra this afternoon at the coffee shop downtown where her mother is working part-time. The bunch of folks at the table behind her are more of my Mexican kin.