Pluses of the plague

500px-Plus_symbol.svgALL IS NOT bad in these days of the plague. There are pluses.

 

  1. We’re spending less money. Yes, staying at home means not going out to eat, something we usually do a lot, but rarely now. So, more cash in the bank.
  2. No more roadblocks on the highway between here and the capital city. There is a teachers college* in a small burg between here and there, and the students — radical, ignorant nincompoops one and all — regularly put roadblocks on the highway to solicit money to further the Revolution. I never give them a peso. But the CCP Virus has chased them away. Ha! Irony.
  3. Lower gasoline prices. Apparently, this has squat to do with the plague, but it happened almost simultaneously, so it seems connected. Gas prices in Mexico have plunged from about 20 pesos a liter to 14, a sizable savings. I think we can thank the Russkies and the Mohammedans for this.
  4. More together time with my child bride and her with me. This is mostly a plus, but we are getting on one another’s nerves now and then. In our 18 years we’ve never been together so often. She is cute, however.
  5. More posts on The Unseen Moon. This is a plus more for you than for me, but it’s a plus for me too in that it gives me something to do aside from watch YouTube videos and read books on my Kindle. I  also garden now and then. Weeds.
  6. A cleaner house. We have no domestics aside from Abel the Deadpan Yardman, but that’s just the yard. Inside the house, milady is the Queen of Cleaning. It’s not her best talent, but she does a decent job when she finds time free from her pastry business, which is kaput for now. So housecleaning is getting more attention. I do some too. I am very un-Mexican in that regard. Pass the broom.
  7. I’ve ceased to shave.

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* These are called “Normal” schools, but there’s nothing normal about them. It’s a chain of “teacher colleges” around the country, which has existed for decades. In reality, they are communist training camps replete with murals of Ché, which explains the radicalism of teacher unions in Mexico and also the appallingly low education level. Sad.

It’s Springtime!

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WINTER PACKED UP yesterday and headed home, wherever that is.

Now it’s Springtime, the season of hope and rejuvenation. I’m feeling rejuvenated already. Are you? Worried about the coronavirus?* It’s winding down in China where it began. Worldwide, about 10,000 people have died so far.

Yes, it will likely get somewhat worse, but think of this:

Every year, the seasonal flu kills about 650,000. Every year. Do we quiver in our homes each flu season? Do we torpedo the economy? Do we stock up on tons of T-P?

Do we initiate “social distancing”?

Every single, solitary year there is a pandemic of flu that kills hundreds of thousands, and what do we do? We are accustomed to it, so we shrug it off.

This flu season in the United States, which hasn’t ended, from 12,000 to 30,000 people have died. That’s just this season in the United States. That’s quite a bit more than the global fatalities from coronavirus. Getting the picture?

Also remember, most coronavirus cases are mild.

Life at the Hacienda is going on mostly as usual. The only extra precaution we’re taking is that we’re not doing the Mexican kissy-kissy and huggy-huggy for a spell. Of course, I stopped that about a year ago, but now my child bride is on board.

We lunched yesterday in a nice new Japanese restaurant here in town. We eat out every Thursday and Sunday, and we’ll continue with that.

Today our lunch is Greek chicken that I made in the crockpot. It includes onion, potatoes and garlic up the kazoo.

My child bride will be downtown on the main plaza tomorrow hawking her pastries, a regular Saturday event. Come on by. And she’s still going to the gym. Muscling her out of the gym would be a major undertaking.

In spite of warnings, even here in Mexico, to avoid large gatherings, there was a monster blowout last night on our neighborhood plaza. Tons in attendance to celebrate some saint, which is our usual excuse to make a racket and get drunk.

We two did not go, of course.

Nico the Curtain Man was here Wednesday to take measurements and give us a price to replace parts of the canvas curtains on the upstairs terraza after they were damaged — one totally blown out — by the horrendous hailstorm last week.

So life goes on, as it should. After an abortive trip to Costco in the nearby capital city on Tuesday, a trip we make every week, we’re short on some items, so this afternoon I’ll be going to a supermarket here in town.

Maybe they’ll  have some T-P. You always have to wipe yourself.

In any event, don’t worry! Be happy!

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* A prominent political wag called it Kung Flu recently and was promptly labeled A RACIST! Those nutty Democrats never give it a rest, do they? Sad.

A week of misery

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The swept sidewalk and the stone steps.

I’M ALMOST back to normal after a week of suffering from a cold.

It wasn’t a horrible cold as colds go, but no cold is a good cold. During the past week, I have done virtually nothing but sit it out, which is my approach to colds. My child bride’s approach, on the other hand, is to go to the gym and work out. She’s loca.

During the week, chores piled up. One, which had piled up far longer than a week, was to sweep the sidewalk out on the street. If you don’t sweep your sidewalk, it doesn’t get swept. The municipality does not sweep it. Our town has no street sweeper.

So I swept my sidewalk this morning. It had the usual collection of Styrofoam cups, candy wrappers and whatever else the slobs enjoy tossing out car windows.

Also this morning, I did my daily exercise walk around the nearby plaza. Thursday is market day, so there were stalls selling lots of stuff. I bought broccoli for lunch tomorrow. I have a nice spaghetti recipe that requires broccoli and garlic.

There were about 150 people lined up on the plaza for some reason or another, likely to benefit from some government giveaway.

In a month or so, we’ll start this year’s renovations. One must wait till the monsoon season ends. It used to end in October. Now it ends in November. Cursed climate change!

We need you, Greta Thunberg! Do you speak Spanish?

On the schedule is to paint the wall in the photo and get rid of that garish color we never requested in the first place. It was done a few years back during another series of renovations. I had asked for an adobe color. What I got was reddish-orange.

My attention must have been elsewhere when that paint was applied.

The stone steps rise to that steel door which leads into my child bride’s pastry kitchen, built in 2014. We added that door so the space could be used as a storefront one day. That day has never arrived and, I hope, never will in my lifetime.

Those stone steps are a very popular place for people to sit and rest a spell as they head down the sidewalk, especially kids. And lovers at night.

Thankfully, my head has mostly cleared up and chores are getting done. Scheduled for later today are buying breakfast biscuits in a pastry shop, washing the Honda (not me, a car wash), getting cash from an ATM and sitting at the coffee shop on the downtown plaza with my Kindle* and a nice, hot café Americano negro.

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* Just started Inside Trump’s White House: The Real Story of his Presidency which came out this week. It’s stupendous to have honest information about a man who’s turning out to be one of America’s greatest presidents. The author, Doug Wead, is a former adviser to two presidents and served as a special assistant to President George H.W. Bush. His numerous books are known for their primary sources (not partisan rumor).

A deviant Saturday

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We got to La Plazuela just before 2 p.m. Few other customers had arrived. That’s an actual half-car hanging on the wall, sliced right down the middle.

WE’RE PRETTY staid people, and our days don’t vary much, especially Saturdays when it’s baking in the morning, and hawking pastries downtown in the afternoon.

But we chucked all that yesterday and broke out of our mold.

We drove down the mountainside to the state capital with just frivolity on the agenda, not shopping, which is normally what takes us to the big city.

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First, we dined at a Cuban restaurant called La Plazuela. We ordered what’s called “the Banquet.” That’s it on our table. We ate it all.

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View in the other direction, toward the bar.

In 2012, we had quite a few Cuban meals at ground zero, the communist hellhole of Cuba itself, which is where we went for our 10th anniversary. You can read about that here. But we prefer our Cuban food in a free world.

After the meal, we headed to a movie theater, one of those fancy ones with the wide seats where waiters come to where you’re sitting to take orders, but we ordered nothing.

We were full of Cuban food.

The movie was Rocketman, the life of Elton John. It was a very good movie. I’ve long been an Elton John fan. The English actor Taron Egerton did a superlative job of portraying the singer and actually singing Elton’s music.

Elton John overcame his serious addiction to the bottle and drugs almost 30 years ago. He’s an old coot now, just two years younger than I am.

Saturday was notable for another thing: the initial lawn mowing of the year. Abel the Deadpan Yardman started his work for the summer of 2019. He arrived at 10 a.m. and finished before we headed to the state capital.

The lawn looks very nice this morning.

Sometimes, you gotta break out of your mold. It’s fun.

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Not a tall blade in sight. That’s an aloe vera on the right.