And the days pass

Where the mother-in-law once ruled the roost.

WHILE WE’VE taken the Swedish approach to the Plague Year, that still leaves us at home more than before March, but less than the month or so in the middle. Free time means space and life to fill, and I’m doing that.

I’ve decided to make a cactus zone where I recently removed the profusion of mother-in-law plants. There were already some cacti amid the mess, like those tall mothers, but I’ve been adding others, smaller plants that resided in pots but now will live free.

This morning found me driving down the mountainside alone to shop in the nearby capital city. I was riding solo because Costco won’t let more than one person in the store per membership, so my child bride was left behind, which probably pleased her just fine and dandy due to the early hour.

However, just as I was jumping into the Honda at 8:45, I noticed a tire was very low on air, so I drove to a tire-repair place just up the way where the guy found not one but two nails piercing the rubber. That put me behind schedule on the shopping trip.

Just a bit, 45 minutes. Set me back just over three bucks too.

The afternoon presented opportunities to both kill time and be useful, a lovely combination. I painted a scraped area on the side of the house with Seacoast Red. I changed the water in the ceramic birdbath. Earlier, I made spaghetti topped off with bottled tomato sauce, canned tuna and a bit of sausage from San Antonio.

I responded to some people who had left comments here, which is always fun, plus it gave me another chance to sing the praises of Donald Trump. I wish we had such a fine man in the president’s chair in Mexico instead of the megalomaniac we do have.

We hung up king sheets on the clothesline because we don’t own a dryer. I checked the water in the underground cistern. The incoming water has been cut off a week — my doing — because the cistern is due its annual cleaning. It’s about half empty today. It holds 900 liters. Likely be empty in another week. Then we must ladder down and do the work ourselves. We could hire someone, but we never have.

I got a crick in my back climbing out last year, so it may be time for me to retire from underground cistern maintenance. I prefer to see myself as eternally 35.

There’s always something to do at home during the Plague Year even if you’ve embraced the carefree Swedish System. We dined in a new restaurant yesterday, not one we’ll likely return to. I think it’s where I got the second nail in the tire.

Plus, the pastrami was dry.

And the days pass.

Face of megalomania

New Image

OUR PRESIDENT in Mexico has a problem with the Kung Flu. At the outset, he basically said don’t fret about it, and he continued trekking around the nation, hugging and kissing everyone within reach. He loves to connect with his people.

And, sadly, his people love it too.

At times he seems to take Kung Flu seriously, other times, no. Just a couple of days ago, he announced the problem was resolved. So go about your business.

While his medical appointees have advocated the usual recommendations of social distancing and staying at home, as do most governors and mayors, our president says the people are wise and know what is best. Stay at home if you wish. Or don’t.

Make up your own mind. You are wise.

Meanwhile, his medical spokesman, Dr. Hugo López-Gatell, holds obligated (by the president) daily news briefings, and the president later contradicts him.

The president also stages daily press briefings, something he’s done every weekday at 7 a.m. since he was inaugurated in December 2018. Every freaking weekday. He loves to talk, and he loves to be on camera. He often rambles, and he compares himself with Benito Juárez, the indigenous president (1861-72) and national hero.

Reporters during his morning news conferences at times ask him difficult questions. If he doesn’t like where the issue is going, his standard response is that he has “other information,” and that’s the end of that.

He inherited a presidential plane, which he’s never used, preferring to fly commercial with “the people.” This creates issues for other passengers who sometimes just get off the flight entirely because they worry about security issues.

While many Mexicans love him, others decidedly do not.

Like Bernie Sanders, he’s fond of “free stuff,” and the people who get his “free stuff” just love him all the more. His party controls the legislative branch, and I fully expect him to have the constitution changed to make reelection possible.

Currently, Mexican presidents are limited to one six-year term.

President for Life? Sounds good, and the people are dumb enough to do it. He’s always speaking of “the poor,” “the poor,” “the poor,” which is well known as the cock-a-doodle-do of that fowl called the Common Demagogue.

Our president has been bad news for Mexico. Here are just two examples. One, he canceled a new and much-needed Mexico City airport that was almost completed. It would have been a financial boon to the entire nation.

Another is that he canceled the education reform that was under way. The public education system here is bad and corrupt. Teachers, on retiring, can hand their jobs over to friends and family, no qualifications required.

Our president caved to teacher unions that are famed for corruption and violence.

Both the new airport and the education reform were initiated under the previous administration, and our president hates with a blue passion all things done by previous presidents. He absolutely loathes them, something he often makes clear during his rambling morning news conferences.

And then there is Pemex, the national oil company. International rating agencies have reduced Pemex bonds to junk status.

It brings to mind the quote of H.L. Mencken: “Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.”

Megalomania: A symptom of mental illness marked by delusions of greatness.