Mexican life

The Prussian and the hippie

HAVING HAD three wives means that my life on occasion has been visited by the ancient Chinese curse: May you live in interesting times.

I’ve never decided if I should be envious of people who get married young, and stay hitched to the same person till they die. I appreciate that there’s a long-term solidarity, but they’ve missed the fun times of shrieking terror that multiple spouses occasion.

ox
Till death — or the farmer — do us part.

Hitching two people together long-term usually is a challenge because folks can be quite different. I’ve read that two-ox teams pull badly till they become accustomed to one another and learn the other’s personality. Sometimes the oxen never get in lockstep, and must be paired with other, more amenable oxen.

Are humans and oxen really all that different?

My first wife was quite messy, which was not surprising considering the chaotic home in which she was spawned. That one aspect was a challenge for me. We only lasted five years, but her messiness had nothing to do with my departure.

prussianLet me inject here that a Prussian drill sergeant and I share many traits. You can see how this could provide problems in a matrimony.

My second wife was fairly well-organized, so that was not an issue, which explains, in part, why we were together almost two decades. We likely would still be together if she hadn’t become smitten with an illegal-alien yard boy half her age.

I think my Prussian-ness was a major factor. How much further is it possible to stray from a Prussian drill sergeant than into the arms of Mexican yard boy?

Wife #3, my child bride, lacks my Prussian personality, but it’s not been a problem because I am older, wiser, softer. When we first met, I asked what her worst traits were, and she said disorganization and distraction.

She was not lying.

hippieShe’s something of a hippie in spite of being politically conservative. I watch her life swerve this way and that, and I marvel, usually with my mouth shut.

I think the path to a successful marriage often is no more complicated than keeping your mouth shut.

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.
Mexican life

My weird world

THIS IS MY hardscrabble barrio’s water storage tank. It sits higher than any other place hereabouts, so gravity is how water gets to my house and those of the neighbors.

About a decade ago, this structure was covered with graffiti, and it was an eyesore. Then it got a fresh paint of white and red, and it remained unsullied for years.

Recently, someone applied artwork, a series of skulls. The one on the right in the middle row is even getting a shower.

Our municipal water comes from an underground spring. It’s delivered to us that way. There’s no purification plant.

We are natural people.

* * * *

MY BEAUTIFUL WORLD

After  taking the photo at the top, I did a 180, and took the second photo, which is one side of our neighborhood plaza.

I’ve shot a number of photos of our plaza over the years, but never from this side. Look at those jacaranda trees. I get to admire them every weekday morning during our plaza walk.

We passed our 15th anniversary two days ago, and now we’re working on the second 15 years. I’ve been married thrice, of course. Five years with No. 1. Nineteen years with No. 2, although we were actually married only the last 10.

That means my current marriage has lasted the longest by a long shot. Although I am a fan of marriage, I hope not to have to do it a fourth time. Three is adequate.

Thanks for stopping by.

The Odd Pot

Possibilities

I’VE BEEN SINGLE — and I’ve been married. A lot.

Three times.

Being single doesn’t hold much appeal, and now that I’m considerably older, it holds even less.

Actually, I loathe being single. Maybe I subconsciously married someone 16 years my junior to virtually guarantee that I’ll sail off into the ether before she does.

She goes to the gym three evenings a week. During those times, when I walk through the bedroom, the above is what I see, and I imagine it as a permanent scene. Grim.

I prefer the photo below.