The night light

lamp

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.

Kitchen window

I SEE THIS a lot. It’s where I wash dishes, and I’m the chief washer here. I clean those dishes lickety-split. When she washes them, it can take half the day, or so it seems.

If you don’t let food dry on dishes, washing them is no biggie, which is why dishwashers are silly. I know many disagree, so you don’t need to tell me that unless you can’t help yourself.

Yes, this is the window over the kitchen sink. It has many elements, as you can see.  The most notable is the stained glass, which I did with my own hands.

Ten or 12 years ago, we took a months-long course at a trade school in a town called Santa Clara del Cobre about 10 miles farther up the mountainside.

It was during the rainy season, and we’d get out of class after dark and drive home through forests amid downpours on a winding, rural road with no centerline. It could get hairy.

But we had our stained glass. We made lots of it.

My child bride — she was even younger then — got so hyped up about making stained glass that we ended up buying most all of the gear one needs to do that. It’s been sitting in a box atop shelves in the closet for over a decade now.

Other glass beauties, better than this one, hang in the windows of the living room. But this is the one that gets the most notice, by me at least, while I’m washing dishes, quickly.

The perfect time

bedroom
Smaller bedroom window.

NOVEMBER, THAT IS. It’s the perfect time here, not that other times aren’t swell too, but you can’t beat November.

There’s something strange about our perfect time being ushered in by the Day of the Dead when we embrace and drink to the notion of death and mortality.

But don’t dwell on that. November is almost upon us. And why is November so sweet? Because the summer rains have ended, but everything is still fresh and green.

Plus, frigid winter hasn’t arrived.

Friday morning was full of chores while my child bride was out working in her pastry kitchen. Chores for me, that is.

One was window-washing which inspired me to shoot the two photos. At the top is the smaller window in the bedroom, and at the bottom is one of two huge, dining room* windows.

Note the very green grass. People have asked me online why in the world I have a green lawn in Mexico, that it makes no sense. I guess they expect dust and burros.

The grass makes sense to me, especially now that I don’t mow it anymore. Someone else does.  I just admire it.

And sometimes I clean the windows for a better view.

kitchen
Big dining room window.

* Why is dining room two words while bedroom is one word?

(Note: The stained-glass items hanging on the bottom window were made by the two of us about a decade ago at a trade school in a nearby town. There are much larger ones hanging in the living room window.)

(Note 2: An astute observer might notice the black dot on the middle pane of the bottom photo. That’s a very small piece of broken mirror my child bride pasted to the spot. She uses that little mirror to pluck her eyebrows under natural light. Women are strange sometimes.)