Mountaintop birthday

Yesterday was our town’s birthday, 487 years, which is even older than I am. To celebrate, City Hall has an odd habit of chasing all the life from the sidewalks surrounding the main plaza on this day. Sidewalk cafes? Bring in your tables and chairs. Restaurants? Ditto.

It applies mostly to early in the day. By afternoon, the rules are eased (or ignored), but many businesses just stay shut the rest of the day. This is akin to having a party, but putting away the champagne, the cake, and hiding the chairs in the pantry.

Sometimes Mexicans do the nuttiest things.

Around 5 p.m., I drove downtown for my customary café Americano negro and a sit with Señor Kindle at my sister-in-law’s sidewalk establishment. She had reopened by then, but all the nearby hippie vendors were nowhere to be seen. They add lots of pizzazz to our side of the plaza, but not yesterday. Dead zone.

Happy birthday.

I shot this photo while sitting with my coffee. Normally, another sidewalk café is between here and the corner, but it was a vacant space yesterday. The guy under the red umbrella sells pastries.

I eat them at times. They’re good.

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