Mañana dawns

collapse

I COULD HAVE told them a year ago, perhaps two, this would happen. But they waited until it did. Good that nobody died.

Over many months, during our morning walks, it was like watching that finale in Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch: slow-motion mayhem.

Finally, the roof perished completely. Collapse!

This end of our neighborhood plaza possibly dates from the 16th century. Lordy knows how long that roof had rested there. But then it decided on a total siesta. Adiós and goodbye.

They’ve been working on it for a few weeks now, slowly at first but picking up speed, and before long it will look as it did way back when Cortés walked around the middle of Mexico.

Or not long after.

The big cat

THIS BIG CAT will live on our driveway, starting next year.

The feline is a stone mosaic that we bought yesterday from a new business just up the highway. They have lots of great designs. We chose this cat which cost the peso equivalent of about 100 American dollars. It easily would have cost $1,000 above the Rio Bravo, I think.

Living in Mexico is financially prudent.

The artwork — the mosaic — is just the big circle. The other stuff is supporting material until it is laid to rest in the driveway incline you see in the photo below. I made a circle there so you’ll know just where and have an idea of the size, though I think the cat’s actually larger.

The Hacienda serves a dual purpose. One, it’s a roof over our heads. Two, it’s an art gallery, and this will be a grand addition to the ever-growing exhibition.

Why next year? Springtime is our usual season for major work because it’s not raining. From June through October it rains here every day, which is dicey for outdoor construction. We’ve already done this year’s work, plus it looks like the summer rains are getting a very early start.

This particular area, the driveway up from the street, has long been a problem. It has grass and weeds growing through cracks in cement and stone. It’s how it was when we bought the property in 2002. We will have the entire area removed, the cat installed, and the rest will be smooth concrete.

There is one problem to be dealt with. During the construction we won’t be able to enter or leave by car, so we will park the Honda in the downtown Casita’s garage at night and leave it on the street here during the day. The construction should take two-three days, and then another two days minimum for drying. During the drying phase, after the workmen have left, we’ll likely visit San Miguel de Allende, about 140 miles away, to see how the high-falootin’, artsy, rich Gringos live.

But this will happen next year. Until then, the mosaic cat will sit upright in my child bride’s pastry workshop, leaning against a far wall as an objet d’art. That’s her in the top photo, barefoot in her pajamas and a red jacket due to the morning nip.