UNLIKE MOST mornings when I stay home till past noon, today I drove downtown just before 9 to open the Downtown Casita for the maid. The place had not been officially tidied in two months. Normally, it’s done once a month when there are no tenants.
But the Plague Year has made me fall behind on my responsibilities. However, last week a pack of kin from the nearby state capital spent the night there, so it was a good excuse to hire the maid even though the kin always leave the place neat.
I scooped up the used sheets and towels and drove two blocks to a laundromat. As I got out of the Honda, I looked back up the hill that I had just descended and decided to take a photograph. There’s a VW Bug up there. Bet you don’t see them much anymore above the Rio Bravo. They’re still common here.
It rained a bit last night, so the morning was cool and fresh.
YESTERDAY WE ate tuna lasagna in The Lasagna Factory in the nearby capital city. We wanted vegetarian, but none was available. So tuna it was, and it was good.
Then we visited Costco and Chedraui for various staples before heading home to our mountaintop abode where peace reigns.
This morning I stepped out to the service patio and noticed, just past the steel stairway to the kitchen roof, a sizable spray of bird crap and a baby bird, deceased. Crap! I uttered to no one in particular. I glanced up, way up, and saw no nest. Strange.
I swept up the birdie corpse, tossed it in the trash outside in the Garden Patio, returned and looked up again, which is when I saw movement. Here’s the situation: There is a huge wasp nest up there, long abandoned, and so high I had never knocked it down.
Swallows had somehow turned a part of the wasp nest, a part that was drooping, into a home of their own, and there’s a family there, minus the one who plunged to his demise. I’ll keep an eye on the situation, and when the little buggers bugger off, the extension ladder will put me within range to knock the whole shebang down, and I will.
Why can’t swallows mind their own business? Nest under bridges or in the house of the people out back who blare music too loud? Where is the justice?
Tomorrow will be a big day here. More plant murder is planned.
The monster aloe vera which resides at the bedroom corner in what I’ve long called the Willy Nilly Zone will be uprooted and toted to God knows where.
We once had three of these big babies, but Abel the Deadpan Yardman removed one a few years back. It was somewhat smaller than the one in the photo. I have a crew coming in the morning with machetes and a pickup truck.
It’s the same crew that removed the towering nopal, the monster bougainvillea and the annoying loquat tree.
After that’s done, Abel comes the following day, and I’m going to have him remove most everything in that area. It’s not clear from the photo, but there are tons of weeds. I will plant new stuff, but not plants that grow enormous.
More on this in a few days.
Our mayor has tested positive for the Kung Flu virus. He posted a video announcement on Facebook yesterday while sitting at a desk, which I assume is in his home, in normal clothes, wearing a facemask, to say he’s staying put for two weeks.
He’s a real glad-hander, so his getting Kung Flu is no shock. I wish him a speedy recovery, or maybe he’ll be one of those who never show symptoms, if such a thing exists.
He looked fine in the video.
In closing, here’s a little humor on the state of America. I might make this a recurring feature. Send me stuff.
ABEL THE DEADPAN yardman came at 10 today, as he does every summer Saturday, to mow the grass and edge with his weedeater, leaving the Hacienda with a fresh feel.
What you’re seeing in the photo is a yard corner that faces the dining room window, so we look at this a lot. The rock wall is about eight inches high and 12 feet across, and it was built by a guy who rang the doorbell years back, hunting paid labor.
Normally, I would have just told him sorry, no, but he was quite persistent and pleasant, so I hired him for a few chores around the yard. This was one. He wasn’t very talented, but he got the job done. The plant was already there. It’s a philodendron, which I always thought was a smallish plant, and maybe it is above the Rio Bravo. But not here.
I have another philodendron in the small green zone of the Downtown Casita’s carport. That plant too has attained monstrous size, and makes quite an impression.
Not much on the Hacienda agenda today. I’ve been fooling around with an updated Windows 10* that took almost three hours to download last night while we watched Netflix, and my child bride has been housecleaning. Around 2-ish, I’ll drive to our roasted-chicken joint a ways past the neighborhood plaza and buy lunch to go.
In addition to chicken, we’ll get rice, cole slaw, chorizo, and a couple types of salsa. Before the Kung Flu, when my wife was selling her pastries on the downtown plaza every Saturday afternoon, this was always our lunch before heading off. Her business has been on hold since March, but we still eat the roasted chicken most Saturdays.
We do lunch in the Hacienda dining room, and admire that philodendron.
* I was strong-armed into doing this by my H-P All-in-One desktop machine that I bought over a year ago. This was its first Windows 10 update.
LET’S LOOK AT a bit of this and a tad of that, if you please.
The monsoon began a bit late this year, and it’s still getting its sea legs, so to speak. We like it when the rain starts, even though we dislike it by September when it’s outlived its welcome, and the mud is growing old.
A quite noticeable result of rainfall is the blooming of sweet alyssum, a ground cover that looks like snowfall. From January to June, it’s brown and appears dead, but give it a couple of days of rain, and this is what happens. Sweet, huh?
In other news, City Hall opened our two main plazas downtown a few weeks back because it thought the incidence of Kung Flu was winding down. That lasted about a week until the plazas were taped off again, and that’s how it remains today.
When will this end? I’ve not experienced such a lousy year since 1995 when my last wife dumped me, and then 1997 when a romance with a lovely Latina ended by mutual insanity. You can read about that here if you wish.
I enjoy décor, and I like to take photos. Here is one I took yesterday when I found myself in the bedroom, looking at the scene, and with camera in hand. I’m so good at décor that you’d think I’d be gay, but I’m not.
I bought this lamp in the first few months after I moved to the mountaintop from the nearby state capital almost 20 years ago. It’s made locally, woven from a reed found in the area, if memory serves.
The lamp is almost two feet high.
It’s one of the few pieces of furniture we brought to the Hacienda from the two-story rental closer to downtown where I lived previously, two and a half years — one and a half solo and one more with my child bride.
Speaking of the state capital, we’ll be driving there today for a shopping expedition, a weekly event that gets us out of the house, and we might even eat lasagna.