Paula comes calling

Who’s the Gringo with the camera?

OLE FELIPE’S not really a baby person, but sometimes you gotta make allowances.

The second generation of the Mexican relatives are mostly in their 20s, so they’re breeding like hamsters.

A baby slept here last night with her mama whose name is Margarita, just like the beverage, frozen or otherwise. This kid is named Paula, and she’s about a month old.

Paula brought her mother from the state capital yesterday due to a baby shower held last night for yet another niece who’s about to deposit yet another Mexican into this world.

For a baby, Paula is remarkable. She is nice and quiet. She sleeps through the night. She minds her own business. If she poops, I have neither seen nor smelled it.

Gracias to Margarita.

I scratched Paula’s head occasionally so she knows she’s not alone in the world. She held my finger.

Paula doesn’t howl. She doesn’t barf. She meditates.  If she keeps up the superlative behavior, she can visit again.

When she starts walking, we’ll have to renegotiate. Ambulatory humans below the age of 7 are nuisances.

But I own rope.

The old cholo


IT WAS PRETTY cold downtown the other day, but more than anything it was windy, which made it seem colder still.

Your never-humble correspondent struck a pose to share because I’m a sharing sort of fellow.

Sometimes it’s good to get personal.

People who live above the Rio Bravo tend to think that Mexico is about beaches, sun, margaritas, rayon shirts and Bermuda shorts, but it’s like that only in some places.

And those are not good places to live, just to visit.

This, plus a couple more, were added to my photo exhibit.

2-fer sunrises


JUST MINUTES after posting yesterday’s praise of oxygen and stars, roundabouts 7 a.m., I looked out the window behind the computer screen and saw this, so I snapped a photo.

I think it’s the first sunrise (or sunset) shot to appear here in years. Normally, I leave such fluff to other folks who live in Mexico — sunrises and beaches and margaritas and parades and crocodiles and “such nice people.”

What’s notable about this photo — to me at least, not you — is that the sun is clearly moving into the Southern Hemisphere, setting us up for winter. That is not the mountain the sun prefers for rising in June.

The best month of the year, November, is winding down, and December lurks around the corner. December is unpredictable. It can be like lovely November, but it can also be early winter. You never know.

A visitor to the mountaintop from South Dakota asked me recently if it freezes here in winter. The answer is yes, but not every year. Most years it does, but only overnight. By afternoon, it’s in the 70s.

Generally, it’s a real swell place to live.

New Image

So you get your Moon money’s worth, here’s the last sunrise photo from years ago.


And to illustrate Hacienda life on winter mornings, here I am in the kitchen in some far January or February, trying to defrost myself with a hot cafecito while facing a sun-lit window. My wife knitted that wool scarf.