Edición dominical

A sunny Sunday

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Photo by Paul Whalen.

DAWN DEBUTED sunny today, and it is cool and nice.

Cool being the weather, not the overused adjective.

Hauling my body from the king bed at 7, I looked out the window and saw a black-vented oriole in the bottle-brush tree. Approaching spring brings new birds hereabouts.

After getting a glass of water and a piece of toast from the kitchen, I came upstairs, where I now sit, fired up the H-P All-in-One at my desk to begin the news day. There is a bank of windows in the wall where I face, one being directly behind the H-P All-in-One.

The view has been cleaned up since a technician came a few days ago and removed an unsightly WiFi antenna that disrupted my sight of the mountains.

So Sunday, vista-wise and other wises too, is getting off to a great start, certainly better than what happened yesterday with the dead bat in a pot.

Mexican life

A couple of pictures

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THIS ATTRACTIVE woman was sitting nearby the other day as I was enjoying my usual afternoon café Americano negro on the downtown plaza. She has a familiar look, but I can’t quite place her.

And the kid? Got no idea.

And later the same day, at night, I was descending the stairwell at the Hacienda on my way to the king bed when I paused at the scene below and said to myself, “That’s interesting. I’ll take a photo.”

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Mexican life

The night light

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AS I’VE BRAGGED at least a million times, I initially moved south with just two suitcases, nothing more. It was liberating and, of course, in total contrast with how most Gringos move to Mexico pulling their sagging trailers behind their mega-pickups.

I delight in making fun of those people.

I came down sans auto.

I did, however, leave a number of things in the storeroom of my mother’s Atlanta condo, and when the two of us drove from here to there around 2004 in the little Chevy Pop I had purchased, I returned with more gear. One of them is pictured above.

This stained-glass lamp was bought on South Shepherd Drive in Houston in the late 1990s. I don’t recall the precise price, but it was scandalously expensive. No matter. It was love at first sight.

It sits in our living room, serving as a night light. It’s the first thing I see each morning as I stumble from the bedroom into the living room in the dark to slip my feet into the Crocs that sit on the carpet below this light.

I then go pour coffee, head upstairs, fire up the Hewlitt-Packard and read the news. It’s a good way to start the day.

Mexican life

Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho!

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Hail to the chief and his own child bride!

CHRISTMAS GREETINGS from our humble Hacienda here on a mountaintop in the middle of Mexico.

The lovely couple above needs no introduction. Yes, it’s the Blond Bomber and his bombshell First Lady. Bow to them, ye peons.

Apart from the official White House photo, I have more gifts for you, a couple of brief videos for your viewing pleasure. First, there’s this one I shot here at home a year ago.

If you’re reading this Christmas morning, I’m in a nice hotel in the nearby capital city. I spent last night there alone after dropping my child bride off at a family member’s home abutting a slum.

Mexicans do a very late meal on Christmas Eve with 400 or 500 close relatives. I don’t do midnight meals, and I’m not much on hoopla either, so I headed to the hotel. I’ll go to a movie this afternoon and pick her up later for the drive up the mountainside to the Hacienda.

She gets to do her thing, and I get to do mine. That’s happiness, which is what Christmas should be all about. Well, in part.

Now for another video gift. This is for those of you who are in the presence today of people who back Bernie, Beto, Hill, Biden, perhaps even the fake squaw. Suffer through with this help.

And have a great 2019.