Alone, with flowers

In one direction.

My child bride took the bus to Querétaro this morning to check on her brother who’s been recovering from encephalitis since January. It’s an affliction that doesn’t go away rapidly.

After dropping her at the bus station in the state capital at 10 a.m., I stopped at McDonald’s for scrambled eggs with ham, an English muffin and what they think is hash browns.

I buried it all, except the muffins, in ketchup, and it was quite tasty, reminding me that I was once a Gringo. I love ketchup!

On returning to the Hacienda, I did a little vine trimming, and then I sprawled on the sofa with the Kindle, but reading did not last long till I dozed off.

Later I had a lunch of noodle soup she had made and one of her individual-sized tuna pies, the sort she sells out of her basket on the plaza on Saturdays.

Then I watched half of Being John Malkovich on Netflix upstairs, just half because I’ve seen it before, and half was enough. The Spanish title turned it into a question: Are You John Malkovich? Can’t imagine why they did that.

Then I tossed two bags of garbage into the Honda trunk, and drove downtown, stopping off at a dumpster along the way. I went to the main plaza and had a nice espresso, admired the passing lovelies, and read the Kindle.

It’s a good way to live.

Returning to the Hacienda again, I opened the umbrella on the yard patio, took a seat, and continued reading the Kindle. The sun was falling behind the house. The sky was blue. The air was cool, and I admired the growing garden.

I went upstairs for the camera and took these two shots.

Then I read some more, about a fellow in his mid-20s who sailed around the world alone in the mid-1980s. Incredible.

She’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, and my solo time will end.

She thinks I suffer when she’s gone, but overnight is not enough to cause suffering. I like it. The relatively brief change feels interesting.

Plus, I don’t have to feel guilty about snoring.

And the other direction.
And the other direction.

10 thoughts on “Alone, with flowers

  1. The yard looks great. I hope I will get to see it this year.

    So, what is in your Kindle? I just started the new Thatcher biography. So far, it is holding my attention.


    1. Steve: I was about halfway through “Two Years Before the Mast” when I sidetracked down a tributary called “Across Islands and Oceans.” I’ll return to the first when I finish the second.

      Thatcher, eh? Loved her. Few weeks back I finished “Churchill Style: The Art of Being Winston.” I always knew he was a great guy, but I never knew how eccentric he was. Excellent book.


  2. Must be reading “Dove.” Or maybe not. I think that sailor was the tender age of 16. That book helped spawn my love for sailing. In any case, it does indeed read like a Good Life.


    1. Calypso — I thought the same thing. But that book was far earlier, as well. It inspired me to sail from England back to Oregon when I left the Air Force. Unfortunately, it remained just a dream.


    2. Señor Calypso: Not Dove. I mention the title above and, as Steve notes below, it was written a good bit later. The author does mention Dove, however, and how it inspired him. He also reveals that the kid in Dove turned out to have been pushed by his father to do what he did, and he really didn’t want to do it at all. He later abandoned sailing altogether.


  3. The Kindle is such a great invention. Flowers, too. Glad God, he/she thought of those lovelies. I am reading trash lately and loving it. Orange is the New Black on the Kindle was engrossing, better by far than the Netflix series of the same name.


    1. Laurie: Didn’t know that Orange was a book too. We saw the first installment of the TV show recently. My wife didn’t much like it, so we may or may not take it up later.

      And yes, the Kindle is a wonder. Love it. Flowers too.


  4. The details, like the small tile on the red brick, and the ceramic buried next to the cacti on the left of your flowered garden are great. They only add to an already beautiful spot.
    What is the fruit on the tree in the second photo? It’s hard to tell from my angle.


    1. Andean: The small tile on the red brick is just one of many that are on that wall, inside and out. After we moved into the house in 2003, I immediately had to go see my mother in Atlanta for some reason. My wife did not have a U.S. visitor visa yet, so she had to stay behind. She cemented all those tiles on that wall while I was gone.

      The ceramic next to the cactus is a big mask we bought in Dolores Hidalgo. After hanging elsewhere outside for a few years, the rope broke, and it fell and cracked into two pieces, so I just propped the two pieces up there together.

      The fruit on that tree in the bottom photo is sour orange. It was there when we bought the property. I never knew there was such a thing as sour orange, but there is, and it is sour.

      You have quite an observant eye.


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