Plague year pleasures

ENOUGH OF GLOOM and doom. Let’s focus on pleasures, which we have quite a few here at the Hacienda on a daily basis.

They start at dawn. The window is open for the cool night air, and when the sun rises, the birds start to sing. Neighborhood chickens too, but the birds are nearer, sweeter.

And waking at age 75 with a sleek, smooth child bride at your side on the king bed is quite the pleasure, believe me. Were I still with wives No. 1 or No. 2, I’d been waking with crones. Let’s not underestimate the pleasure of this.

Then there is food. Neither of us is a foodie, but that doesn’t mean one doesn’t find pleasure in eating. This morning was special in that we had waffles, which we rarely do because we like to remain svelte and healthy.

waff
Aunt Jemima mix makes the best waffles.

Atop the waffles we pour real Canadian maple syrup from Costco.

To burn off the waffle calories, we did the usual morning exercise walk around the neighborhood plaza. We normally don’t encounter many people, but during these trying times we find even fewer folks. The plaza is ours, a pleasure.

A hot shower is great too. That happens later so we smell nice, a pleasure to others.

For lunch today, it’s minestrone, which I tossed together from a very simple recipe I’ve used for decades. It’s a healthy, low-cal version, which was the reason we ate syrup-drenched waffles earlier. We deserved it.

minn
Old Felipe makes the best minestrone.

In the afternoon, I make coffee at home, pour it into a thermos, and off we go to the big plaza downtown where we sit at a sidewalk table. I, of course, read my Kindle, and my child bride gossips with her sister. Bringing our own coffee negates the need to have the coffee house employees involved in the process during this plague year.

The less touchy-touchy you do improves your survival chances, it’s said.

That’s the primary period each day in which we escape the confines of the Hacienda to avoid going stir-crazy. Then it’s home for salads and Netflix before beddy-bye and pleasurably slipping into a world of dreams till it starts over the next day.

Plenty of pleasures available during the Plague Year.

19 thoughts on “Plague year pleasures

  1. It’s 44 degrees right now in North Texas. Would love to have had waffles and minestrone today.

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  2. Also soup here, lentil. Just lentils and water, flavored with garlic, black pepper, cloves, and lemon. Served with some dark brown bread and some hearty red wine.

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    1. Creigh: I like Campbell’s lentil soup. All you need to do is dump it into the pot, add water and voilá. I’m lazy. The bread and wine sound great. If I could only enjoy wine again, but one must embrace discipline.

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  3. Best time of the day is when the birds wake up in the A.M. Over to the walking track in the village and then the outdoor exercise equipment. Homemade baked beans for lunch today with a late afternoon swim with a cocktail.

    Even in these uncertain times, Mexico is the best.

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    1. Kirk: I’ve been amused to read the U.S. government encouraging people outside the country to return ASAP. Yep, it wants you to return to the nation with the highest Kung Flu count on earth. What is wrong with that picture?

      Better to stay here in Mexico, as you note.

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  4. You have a good attitude, señor. You truly are living the life. Our streets are eerily quiet except for the odd dog walker. Me and the missus are staying home most of the time and trying not to go stir crazy. Today it’s homemade guacamole, salsa and chips for lunch. That’s about as close to Mexico as we’re going to get for a while. I guess I could put on some Banda music and wear my luchador mask, but then it would be hard to eat. Stay safe and relaxed. I guess the silver lining of all this is that you won’t be deluged by Gringo tourists any time soon.

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    1. Brent: I try to stay positive in all things, and I succeed more than my wife does. As far as being deluged by Gringo tourists, we really don’t get many Gringo tourists in my town. The great majority of tourists here are Mexican. We do, however, have an increasing number of Gringos and, I imagine, Canucks moving here and staying, which is disturbing.

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  5. It struck me yesterday that my coronavirus confinement is almost exactly like my pre-virus lifestyle. For about the last year, I have stationed myself in my patio — writing, reading, listening to music — with a dip in the pool when the mood hits me. The only thing that has changed is my daily walk. This intestinal infection keeps me within steps of the nearest toilet.

    I have no babe. No dog. But I have what Henry Higgins desired: “an atmosphere as restful as an undiscovered tomb.”

    And that is certainly enough for me to find contentment.

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