Tag Archives: weather

Feel of fall

WHEN I LIVED in America, October was my favorite month.

serveimageSome folks love the arrival of spring. I imagine most of them live in the frozen north. But I loved the arrival of not just autumn but October.

October has a distinct sensation even though fall arrives in late September. I lived 98 percent of my 55 years above the Rio Bravo in spots that sweltered in summer, so the arrival of autumn was a blessing, a relief, a sigh.

Where I live now we do not swelter in summer, so the transition to autumn is not such a big deal. Our big deal is the move from occasionally unpleasant, bone-dry spring to cooler, wetter summertime.

But the feel of Gringo fall stays with me, and I felt it today for the first time this year. It’s a feeling that’s difficult to put into words, but you know it when it touches you.

I was on the upstairs terraza sweeping this morning, taking advantage of the fact that most of the floor was dry because it did not rain yesterday or last night either.

And I said to myself: This feels like fall, and it did.

I love it.

Good and bad

sunrise

WITH SO MUCH bad-weather news happening, I thought it would be uplifting to show good weather. This is a photo taken from our upstairs terraza … a few years ago.

There is other good news. Not weather, dental.

Since I recently had a tooth implant inserted in my upper jaw, we revisited the mouth of my child bride. When we met in 2001, her dental history was typical of Mexicans. When a tooth problem appears, you don’t fix it, you remove it.

Yeah, I know. Incredible.

At 41, she had removed five. All were in the back and not visible when she smiled. The situation,  however, created a problem later due to the spaces, so she got two bridges, also not readily apparent, but bridges are a bother, or so I’m told.

So she’ll be getting implants too, four not five. The dentist said she could easily ignore one at the very back. She begins the process in a couple of weeks, and it will take, as mine did, three months total. This will cost a bit over $5,000 U.S.

We’ll pay cash. Donations accepted via PayPal.

I wonder what four implants would cost above the border. Lots more, I am sure. Likely $5,000 each.

* * * *

Bad news

Now the bad news, also in the medical category.

Recently, I had a sharp pain in my left heel whenever I walked. When I was not walking, I felt nothing.

I visited a clinic here, a hospital actually, that’s part of a church complex. I’ve known two people who died in the clinic, but it’s a good option if you’re in a rush, and it’s cheap.

But that’s not the reason I went. I went because my heel was hurting, and my usual doctor wasn’t available.

The clinic’s right off the main plaza downtown. The doctor consultation was $4. He immediately guessed the problem correctly. Osteoporosis! But I am a poster boy for not having osteoporosis in all categories save one: I’m old.

I am not overweight. I do not drink. I do not smoke. I eat healthily, a salad a day and better. I take calcium tablets. And I’m a guy. Mostly, it’s women who get osteoporosis.

I have a girly affliction!

The Goddess has a wicked sense of humor.

To confirm his guess, the doctor pointed me over thataway to get a couple of X-rays of my foot. Cost of the x-rays: $22. That was done immediately while the doctor sat and waited.

Really.

Seems part of the bone in my heel went elsewhere, leaving a little peak that dug into my heel pad on walking.

The doctor prescribed an anti-inflammatory gel plus pills that do much the same.

He told me to get a glass bottle and rub it sideways over the peak twice daily to make it gradually less pointy.

I have done this now for two days, and it’s really helped. I did my daily exercise walk around the neighborhood plaza yesterday with no problem.

And I’m doubling my daily dose of calcium.

Getting old is a bitch.

* * * *

(Update: Online research, plus having my X-rays on hand, has convinced me that my problem is not osteoporosis but a heel spur, a much nicer diagnosis. Tip of the sombrero to Al Lanier for pointing me toward heel spurs in his comment below. This means the clinic doc misdiagnosed. The good news is that treatment for the two separate conditions is basically identical.)

Rain, book, berries

IT’S AUGUST when I normally start to weary of the rain, but that hasn’t happened yet, the weariness. I am still loving it.

Yesterday about 4 p.m., I headed out the door to drive downtown and have a nice café Americano negro, but it was raining, so I sat a spell on a wicker rocker on the veranda.

Pulling the Canon from my man bag, I shot the video. When the rain slacked, I drove downtown. It wasn’t raining there.

I sat with the black cafecito and read my Kindle. I’m about halfway through a wonderful novel, A Gentleman in Moscow by the oddly named Amor Towles who’s a guy.

Who births a man child and names him Love?

While my normal drink at this time of day and at this location is the café Americano negro, I’ve been known to wander off the reservation. That wandering often leads me to the ice cream shop around the corner where one can purchase this pink thing you see below. Agua de fresa con coco.

Water of strawberry with coconut. There is also dairy in there, and it tastes really good. Costs about 68 cents, Americano.

Living where I do provides many pleasures.

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.