Eye of the camera

sunset

PULLING INTO the Hacienda Wednesday evening, I saw this sky over the sex motel next door, so I took a shot. I always tote the small Fujifilm camera in my man bag.

The bigger, better Canon is far heavier and usually stays at home.

And minutes before that shot, as I was rounding a corner on the neighborhood plaza, I stopped and photographed the distant mountains past the high railroad track.

street

A few days ago, I was on the big plaza downtown, sitting at the coffee shop. Just across from me was this girl. She’s one of a pretty trio that sometimes sits there blabbing and laughing for hours and drinking beer, but she was alone that day.

A few minutes after I photographed her, one of the others appeared, the one who looks like Salma Hayek, and joined her. The one in the photo pulled out a cigarette and stuck it into a holder, all Hollywood-like. They do that. Pretty girls but silly.

It’s fun to take pictures.

girl

The window treatment

before
The “Before” shot.

WE HAVE THIS window, you see, from the dining room out to the garden. It provides a nice view in the morning while we’re enjoying biscuits, honey and café Americano negro.

But for some reason it’s the window that attracts far more rain in the monsoon months and sun in the sunny months than any other window. Both elements play havoc with the wood, which we must refinish with an unholy frequency.

A refinishing was done just a few weeks ago during other paint work.

Plus, there are a few weeks of the year when the sun sits just so in the morning sky, aiming its rays directly into my eyes while I’m trying to enjoy those biscuits and honey at the dining room table. It forces me to sit in odd positions, seeking comfort.

For years, I’ve been saying: Something must be done.

At last, I have done it.

install
Nico does his magic.

The man known as Nico, who custom made and installed the canvas curtains around the upstairs terraza last spring, came to the rescue. We now have an awning.

Didn’t cost much either. Should have done this years ago.

finish
The “After” shot.

It looks quite spiffy, I think, and will go a long way to protect the wood from rain and rays all year, plus my eyes during those certain months at breakfast.

Speaking of changes, I have also installed a new photo in the website header, replacing the ancient church that’s held that spot of honor for quite a spell. I took this new photo myself downtown yesterday, a mural in an interior patio.

The entire photo does not fit in the header. To see it all in lovely color, click here.

I am fond of skulls. Bones in general. They remind me of mortality.

The first of September

croissant
Dining room table awaits croissants from the oven. I’m the maître d’.

IT’S A MORNING like most mornings, and here’s how it goes.

I get up first and check the news online upstairs. My child bride stays in bed and knits. She doesn’t do this every morning, but mornings over the past couple of months, yes.

Around 8ish, I return downstairs to light the oven where croissants already lie in wait. Then I walk to the bedroom to open the curtains, which were half open all night. I look out the window. Of course, what I see is color, but here it’s just black & white.

br

It’s cool, overcast and gray this morning, so black & white seems right. In the other direction, my child bride continues under the covers with her knitting. Or maybe it’s crocheting. I dunno. It all looks the same to me.

knit
Lazybones still in the sack, not noticing I’m taking her picture. Just as well.

I leave the bedroom and head back toward the  kitchen, passing through the living room where I pause to gaze outside. Looking good.

terraza
The living room window.

At last, she puts the handiwork aside, lifts herself out of sack, walks to the kitchen where the timer just sounded that the croissants are nice and hot.

September’s off to a good start. Plus, it’s Sunday, a day of rest.

* * * *

Note: A couple of hours later, the sun was out, and the sky was blue. Still cool, however.