Day of the virgin

Where I will be sitting after I water the terraza pots.

And not just any virgin, mind you. It’s the Virgin of Guadalupe whom we are celebrating today. It began this morning with lots of explosions, which is how Mexico prefers to celebrate, and the explosions begin at dawn or before. Such fun.

It it’s a repeat of last year, and it likely will be in spite of our being told not to gather in crowds, we will have not one but two bone-shaking concerts on the nearby plaza. Those will be accompanied, of course, by more explosions. The virgin likes blasts.

At 8 a.m., it was 10 degrees Celsius and 50 Fahrenheit outside, which is just fine. An otherworldly cloud hung in the sky, perhaps Guadalupe gazing down on my hardscrabble barrio. I hope so. We need all the help we can get.

Or maybe a space ship?

Being Saturday, chores are in short supply. It’s mostly a day of rest, but I do have to water the potted plants in the downstairs terraza. Then I’ll sit a spell in the rocker, trying to ignore the racket that’s already under way on the plaza just up the street.