The winter opening

It’s not winter yet, of course, but we’re preparing for it and the Spring that follows. We’ve hoisted the curtains in the upstairs terraza, an annual affair. The curtains reduce substantially the water that soaks the terraza during the five monsoon months.

The summer look, closed in but drier.
The winter-spring look, debuted yesterday.

Raising the curtains is no piece of cake. First, the two of us team up to clean both sides as well as possible with a dust mop and damp paper towels. After that, we crank those babies up for the duration, which is till next June. It’s far nicer to sit out there with the curtains raised. Come join us. Bring wine and brie.


Weird taste

After the toil mentioned above, I took off alone on my daily exercise walk around the neighborhood plaza — a reasonable 20 minutes instead of 20 miles — and just off the plaza this house caught my attention. It’s recently painted. What kind of people paint a house black and pink? Maybe they got a discount on colors no one wanted.

Fine September day

That was yesterday, but we’re hoping today will be equally delightful.

We’re approaching the end of the rainy season, thank the Goddess, which is always the attitude about this time each year as we wade in water, mud and overabundant greenery.

This was a celebratory week due to my child bride’s birthday on Wednesday. We headed to a snazzy restaurant here that normally exceeds our budget wishes, but birthdays warrant exceptions. It was the rooftop restaurant in the Hotel Casa Leal on the main plaza.

It’s a “boutique” hotel, and we are boutique-y people. At least we were on Wednesday.

Here are two photos I shot from the restaurant.

This town has changed so much, mostly for the better, in the two decades I’ve lived here, it’s astounding to me. I landed here by pure happenstance. There was little planning involved.

Since I’m posting photos, here’s one that’s primarily for my amigo Phil up in Arizona who’s taken a particular interest in the construction across the street that’s been plodding along for months, done almost entirely by a single man, the owner.

Last week, the two steel “curtains” and door were installed by an outfit that makes such things, blacksmiths. It took one day. I am impressed that the owner ordered an entry door that sports a little pizazz. Most would have chosen the standard, solid, black door.

Stay tuned, Phil!

Storefront construction progress

The owner, left, is helped by two guys on Saturday.

It’s fun to watch the construction of the two storefronts that are going up just across the street from the Hacienda. Previously, it was a weeded lot bordered on the sidewalk by a low, decaying adobe wall of ancient vintage.

Basically, it’s being built the same way the Hacienda was built 18 years ago, a construction method that, although quite common in Mexico, I had never seen before. The oddest part to me was how the roof gets up there. Wooden pallets are placed side by side at roof level, and they’re supported by posts that are usually former tree trunks.

Atop the pallets, rebar is crisscrossed. Threaded between the rebars are plumbing pipes and electrical conduits. Then a cement mixer — rarely the big truck, just a smaller, portable variety — mixes cement, and a bunch of guys, hired for the day, rush it up a makeshift ramp and spread it all over the roof, and then it’s smoothed out.

When we built the Hacienda, there was a vacant lot to our left, and now there’s the sex motel. Soon we’ll have commerce across the street. Change happens.

Today is election day. I have my voter ID in hand, and soon we’ll walk the couple of blocks to the polling station. Hint: We both will vote against any candidate associated with the Morena party of our doofus president. We’ve had lots of candidates murdered during this election cycle, but none of them has been Morena. Imagine that. Stay tuned.

Unfinished roof held up mostly by tree trunks.

Progress of the storefronts

This morning.

Watching the solitary fellow building the two storefronts across the street — with the assist of his wife on occasion — remains an interesting pastime. You can just see him on a low scaffold on the right side. Below is how it looked in October. I took the second photo from the water-tank roost atop my wife’s pasty kitchen, which abuts the street. When I took the October photo, I thought they were building a house, but nope.

Soon we’ll be a bustling commercial thoroughfare.