Pluses of the plague

500px-Plus_symbol.svgALL IS NOT bad in these days of the plague. There are pluses.

 

  1. We’re spending less money. Yes, staying at home means not going out to eat, something we usually do a lot, but rarely now. So, more cash in the bank.
  2. No more roadblocks on the highway between here and the capital city. There is a teachers college* in a small burg between here and there, and the students — radical, ignorant nincompoops one and all — regularly put roadblocks on the highway to solicit money to further the Revolution. I never give them a peso. But the CCP Virus has chased them away. Ha! Irony.
  3. Lower gasoline prices. Apparently, this has squat to do with the plague, but it happened almost simultaneously, so it seems connected. Gas prices in Mexico have plunged from about 20 pesos a liter to 14, a sizable savings. I think we can thank the Russkies and the Mohammedans for this.
  4. More together time with my child bride and her with me. This is mostly a plus, but we are getting on one another’s nerves now and then. In our 18 years we’ve never been together so often. She is cute, however.
  5. More posts on The Unseen Moon. This is a plus more for you than for me, but it’s a plus for me too in that it gives me something to do aside from watch YouTube videos and read books on my Kindle. I  also garden now and then. Weeds.
  6. A cleaner house. We have no domestics aside from Abel the Deadpan Yardman, but that’s just the yard. Inside the house, milady is the Queen of Cleaning. It’s not her best talent, but she does a decent job when she finds time free from her pastry business, which is kaput for now. So housecleaning is getting more attention. I do some too. I am very un-Mexican in that regard. Pass the broom.
  7. I’ve ceased to shave.

* * * *

* These are called “Normal” schools, but there’s nothing normal about them. It’s a chain of “teacher colleges” around the country, which has existed for decades. In reality, they are communist training camps replete with murals of Ché, which explains the radicalism of teacher unions in Mexico and also the appallingly low education level. Sad.

Lazy Sunday

colorcasa

WE DECIDED to veg out on Sunday. We often do that.

After driving downtown for a restaurant meal at Mexican lunch time, 2 o’clock, we returned about 3:30, put on our jammies, and started a movie on Netflix.

After an hour, however, we got antsy, so we paused the movie (City of Tiny Lights, quite good), got dressed again and headed out the gate for a neighborhood stroll.

I carried the camera.

Generally preferring black & white photography, I made an exception for the top shot because it’s all about color.

It’s a relatively new house near us that was constructed about two years ago. It’s the only casa in the barrio that gives us competition in the color category. But let’s continue on.

mural1

This is a mural right off the plaza. It’s pretty new too. The fellow looking over the mountains is Lázaro Cárdenas, president of Mexico in the late 1930s, and the guy responsible for nationalizing the oil industry, a mistake.

boys

We sat on a steel bench on the plaza and watched people. There weren’t many people out and about, but these two boys were enjoying non-electronic toys.

trio

These ladies were sitting outside a small store.

mural2

This wall facing the plaza is directly next to the 16th Century church. That’s church property behind the wall. Some young folks painted this stuff a few months ago. It includes Pancho Villa and the obligatory Ché Guevara.

I’ve thought about coming down here one night and blotting Ché out, but I likely will never get around to it.

Pancho Villa was no prize either.

door

Before we headed back to the Hacienda, I entered an open building, turned around, and took this photo. I like open-door photos. The entryway gave access to an interior courtyard where local ladies cook and sell grub on Sundays.

Over open fires.

I took about 25 shots total, but I didn’t want to test your patience as most people would do. These are my favorites.

The liberator

VERY INTERESTING video. Author and filmmaker Laurence Jarvik speaks for an hour on the Trump phenomenon. Among other themes, he points out that Trump is neither Democrat nor Republican but another thing altogether.

Trump is a deprogrammer of the American mind.

Summer moments

corner
A corner of the veranda starring Bart Guevara.

SATURDAY MORNING, yesterday, and Elvis is crooning love songs on the living room’s music machine.

The far edge of July.

I was communicating via email at dawn with my friend Ray in Alabama who was telling me what I already knew, that Alabama is no place to be in summer, weather-wise.

Here, of course, it’s cool and damp all summer, even into autumn. After that, it’s just cool but not damp.

Heavenly.

After talking to Ray, whom I hope to meet in person one day, I ate a bagel with cream cheese, light, with my child bride, and she hastened out to her pastry kitchen for final touches on Saturday’s sale on the plaza.

First, I went to the living room to turn on Elvis. Then I went outside to chores like wiping the tabletop and chairs on the Jesus Patio, pulling weeds, pushing the mower out for Abel the Deadpan Yardman who arrives at 10 o’clock.

I swept the cushions on the rockers on the veranda before taking the photo above. We bought the big ceramic tile with Bart Guevara on our last visit to San Miguel. We found it on the highway between San Miguel and Dolores Hidalgo.

Though cool and damp, as always, the morning sky was blue and the sun shone sweetly. It’s a great place to live.

As night fell on Saturday, the grass was shorn, we’d lunched on roasted chicken, rice, chiles and soft-drink Sangría out by the highway in a humble place with earthen walls, afternoon rain had fallen and departed, pastries had all been sold on the downtown plaza, and it was cool and damp.

Thanks for stopping by.

Summer moments. With Elvis.

And Bart Guevara.

One of our pastry customers yesterday.
One of our pastry customers yesterday.