The morning light

Dining room table awaits biscuits or croissants.

DEPENDING ON THE season or the dawn hour I stumble out of bed, I am greeted with great scenes upstairs and down as I start the day. I enjoy this.

Life is gradually opening in the Plague Year. I declared it mostly over — for me at least. My child bride is less certain — on May 10, and started going places like in the pre-Plague times. We’ll be eating Japanese this afternoon, which has become a new Thursday tradition. That restaurant is only open Thursday through Sunday, and Sunday is reserved for another establishment directly downtown. It’s called Meraki, open just Saturday and Sunday for now and with a trimmed-down menu. It faces the Basilica.

Next week we’ll be driving to the nearby state capital not only for groceries but to visit a bank due to a mystery account and Home Depot to buy ceiling lights for the Downtown Casita and my child bride’s pastry kitchen, things we’ve been putting off.

We’ll eat in a restaurant there too, which we’ve not done since early March.

Since May 10, I’ve visited Auto Zone and a pastry shop on the downtown plaza various times, and I have not died. Neither have the Japanese joint nor Meraki killed us.

Why, we’re even going to the dentist soon for overdue cleanings. I’ve found a new place here in town that comes highly recommended. Gotta tend to the pearly whites.

Must tend too to the physique. Weekday mornings, before First Breakfast, is when I do my limited routine on the gym set. It keeps me on my toes, in a manner of speaking.

Speaking of exercise, it’s time to head out for my morning walk. Nos vemos.

The gym set awaits me weekday mornings upstairs.

11 thoughts on “The morning light

  1. The morning light always amazes me, but not enough to warrant arising any earlier than necessary. Sometime between 7:30 and 8:30 is civilized to me. Today, a plumber arrived to install a bomba and finish the tasks that the other plumber didn’t complete, and Morgen and I will dine at home. Tomorrow I will eat a steak at Parrilla y Canilla, the first restaurant experience since March 17 and the longest time I’ve gone without visiting that place. On Sunday morning, I will go bright and early to Costco to pick up a birthday cake for a gathering I fortunately will not attend. I haven’t decided whether to schedule my Walmart order for Saturday or Monday morning delivery. We, too, are emerging from the chrysalis of self-isolation, although we’re chary of allowing ourselves of being mistaken for gadabouts or party animals. We do have a reputation to maintain, you know.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ms. Shoes: Maintaining one’s reputation is something always to be kept in mind, I think.

      To non-Spanish-speaking people, please be patient with Ms. Shoes and her dropping of Spanish words into things. Bomba is not something that explodes. It means pump.


      1. It actually means both “bomb” and “pump.” So don’t be so sure about exactly what she meant. Maybe her plumber is a terrorist. Ya never know!


        Kim G
        Boston, MA
        Where the best pumps never bomb.


        1. Kim: As I already said to Tom, 99 percent of the time it means some sort of pump. It can also mean bomb, of course, but usually it does not.

          Aside to Ms. Shoes: See the problems you cause by showing off and not sticking to the King’s English? Are you channeling Michael Warshauer?


            1. Ms. Shoes: The Moon Board of Directors met last night and decided unanimously that all future comments that include Spanish words will have those words translated into English. This action is being done for the benefit of all readers. Exceptions will be made for por favor and gracias.


          1. Bomba is also used in a commonly used phrase when referring derogatively about someone else’s madre. Maybe she’s the bomb? Or could she be good at pumping? Quien sabe?!!


  2. Bomba can mean either pump or bomb, like “la bomba atomica,” for example. But I’m sure you knew that. At least I hope so.


    1. Tom: Okay, okay, but I doubt Ms. Shoes’ plumber arrived to install a bomb. One must consider context. Anyway, 99 percent of the time one hears that word in Mexico, and one hears it quite a bit, it refers to a pump of some sort.


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