Mexican life

Astounding advantages of solitude

AS MENTIONED in the previous post, I have been abandoned for three days.

Yesterday morning, I deposited my child bride at the bus station on the outskirts of the capital city, and off she went to Querétaro. I spent yesterday alone. Today will be spent solo, and so will most of mañana.

But this turn of lifestyle resulted unexpectedly yesterday in some exciting discoveries. Instead of driving immediately back up the mountain to mope, I detoured to Home Depot. My mission was to purchase a grab bar to install in the shower of our Mexico City condo. Mission accomplished.

Normally, when we — the two of us — visit Home Depot I walk directly to my goal, grab it, and head to the cash register. We rarely dilly-dally.

I am aware that women prefer to dilly-dally.

But yesterday I dillied and dallied. And look what I found! First, a cordless electric weedeater, Black & Decker brand. As recently as a year ago I had hunted a cordless electric weedeater to no avail. I even hunted one on the Mexican Amazon. Did you know there is also a Mexican eBay?

There it was at Home Depot for 3,000 pesos — about $157 U.S. — quite a bit more than an electric weedeater with a cord, but certainly worth the pain. I did not buy it, but it’s good to know it’s available. Perhaps another day.

Abel the Deadpan Yardman edges my yard with his own weedeater.

An even more amazing discovery was something I did not even know existed, and it’s something that can be of immense value in our Mexico City condo. It’s a bulky showerhead with an electrical cable that heats water as it sprays out. Good Lord!

Currently, we use a gas-fueled water heater.

Here’s some background: Our Mexico City condo long received its gas from a big LP tank on the roof. Then a fancy-pants firm called Gas Natural (Natural Gas in English) began expanding in Mexico. They expanded right up to our roof. We signed a contract. They installed meters on the roof.

They then billed us as if we lived there full-time instead of virtually never. Over 500 pesos per month for zero usage. We complained. They kept it up. I shut their pipe to our condo, bought an “instant” water heater and a small LP tank that holds 20 pounds of gas, which I refill not far from the condo via taxi about once every two years.

Works smooth as silk. Cheap too.

serveimageThat was five years ago, and Gas Natural is still sending bills and bitching that we’re not paying for zero gas. I ignore them.

The overwhelming part of the LP we use is to heat water for showering. But if we had an electric-powered showerhead, we’d almost never have to refill the small LP tank, which would be sweet. I read the instructions at Home Depot, and it is important that outlets are grounded. I’ll check next visit.

I haven’t purchased that showerhead. Electric wires, 110 volts, water, showerhead, shower stall, barefoot, Mexican electrician, what could go wrong?

I started my second day of solitude this morning. I wonder what exciting discoveries will be revealed to me today. I think I’ll get a shoeshine.

I’m liking this loneliness thing so far.

Mexican life

Dream from half a century ago

ROOF
Didn’t envision this half a century ago, but here I am.

WHEN I WAS 22 years old, married to the first of three wives, I drew plans for a Mexican-style home I would have liked to have built. I was broke, of course, so there was no way to do it. I thought maybe with cinder blocks it would be possible.

Cinder blocks?

The plans reflected my thoughts of a single-story hacienda (small h, not big H) that was completely enclosed with an open courtyard in the middle.

Nobody in my family had ever lived or aspired to live in Mexico, so where did this architectural dream come from? I didn’t think of living in Mexico either. I simply liked the idea of that type of house. I wanted it there in New Orleans.

I was a serial renter, not buying a home until I was 42 years old, and I bought it in Houston, Texas, not New Orleans. The house was not Spanish-style. It was a Texas ranch house of medium size, not a ranch house on a ranch, of course. Ranch house is a style: single-story, low roof, yard out front and back.

My second ex-wife lives there today, more than three decades later.

But I am living in a Hacienda with a big H. And, like the one I designed half a century ago, I designed this one too. I used graph paper. My child bride assisted with her civil engineering skills, but the design is 95 percent mine.

Perhaps the design would have more closely copied my ideas of 50 years ago except for one thing: I wanted a mountain view, and for that I needed a second story due to the brick wall that surrounds our property, Mexican-style.

So here I am. In the circle of life. What goes around comes around. If you manage to live long enough, stuff happens. And so on.

Maybe I should have been an architect.

* * * *

Color and current events

New Image
With luck, we’ll start burying utility cables soon, but it’s still pretty.

My child bride is abandoning me today, heading to Querétaro by bus for a belated Baptism and 4th birthday party for a niece named Sophie. I’ll be batching it here until Sunday evening. It will be lonely but quiet.

For years I tried to participate in these sorts of family activities, but I’ve given up. I’m not cut out for endless chitchat and peals of hysterical laughter.

Thursday afternoon I was taking a leisurely stroll alone down a back street of downtown, thinking of the above, when I noticed the scene in the photo. I had my camera. Our mountaintop town is changing rapidly.

I do not believe most, or even any, of those houses up there existed when I moved here over 17 years ago. And the city recently began a major renovation of streets and sidewalks around the main plaza. It will take months, if not years, to finish but we will be so pretty when it’s completed. The downside is that it likely will attract more Gringos.

I prefer they stay put in San Miguel de Allende, being all artsy-like.

Mexican life

Card from Mexico

bedroom

THERE I WAS, sitting on the green equipal loveseat with my back to the window where morning sunlight was pouring in. My child bride had just made up the bed and departed from the bedroom, leaving me alone.

Well, that looks nice, I said to myself, so I shot a photo.

Another postcard from Mexico.

Mexican life

Best-laid plans

ON MOVING OVER the Rio Bravo at the turn of the century, I had a to-do list of three items.

First, learn Spanish. I had no intention of living here without learning the native tongue. Alas, so many of my former countrymen do just that. Tsk, tsk.

Second, get married. I had no intention of living here solo for the rest of my life. I don’t like being single.

Third, with my new bride’s help, buy land and construct a home. See, my to-do list had an order of sorts. No. 1 was a lengthy process, and it’s ongoing.

At age 55, learning a new language is not something that comes easily. And No. 3 required No. 2 first.

And No. 2 required No. 1  because my child bride cannot converse in English. Being able to talk to your wife is advisable.

No. 2 was fairly easy because, truth be told, I had women coming out of the proverbial woodwork. Most did not interest me. I finally found one that interested me, and I married her about two years after moving to Mexico.

Her help with the home construction was immeasurable. She not only speaks Spanish, she’s a civil engineer.

Aside from learning a new language, which is a process without end, I had mostly accomplished my three goals in a bit more than three years. I’m so proud of myself.

I’ve been coasting ever since.

speccleaner
My child bride cleaning her glasses with her skirt a few months ago.