SEBASTAPOL

"No Toto, we are not in Mexico"  Sebastapol is a small town in Northern California in Sonoma county, next to the Napa Valley (both are the wine country, but Sonoma is coastal).  Because I allowed my residency card to expire four years ago, I have to leave Mexico every six months.  It just became such a hassle dealing with the Immigration office here that I gave up.  The last time took me eight trips.  Then they changed the immigration laws so now you have to start in The U.S, so it would be impossible for me, as I am never there long enough.  So twice  year, I go somewhere (usually to Laguna).  But my lawyer where I had been staying in his guest house sold it and moved.  Also the car rental costs me almost twice what my plane ticket is.  So when my friends from San Francisco invited me to their place, I jumped at the chance.

They were to meet me at the airport in San Francisco and we would drive to Sebastapol.  I arrived at the airport in Vallarta two hours early (I always do) just to find out that the plane was delayed over an hour. I panicked and had a fit at the Alaska airline counter.  To my amazement, they agreed to call my friends in San Francisco.  But I did not have their number.  I had their Mexican phone and mainly used email to communicate, but I also did not have my computer.  The good news was that they have built a very attractive bar outside the terminal (where you can smoke).  I met a nice couple who were on the same plane to S.F.  After explaining my problem they tried to get into my email with an Ipod.  No luck! Then when the plane arrived late it got in just after a 747 from China.  Immigration took almost one hour (and I thought LAX was bad).  Fortunately my friends are not as dumb as I am and knew the plane was late.

Even though it was now about 9:00 at night, the traffic was almost at a standstill.  It took us hours to reach their summer home in Sonoma.  The area is totally rural and the homes are all on one or more acres.  Their home is two stories with four bedrooms (master on the bottom) so I had the top floor to myself.  Two sides of the house has a huge red wood deck overlooking the valley and vineyards.  We spent a lot of time just sitting on the deck and drinking (I was smoking) Although the kitchen had already been remodeled with lots of granite, they have plans to completely change the first floor.  I thought it was lovely just as it was.  The first morning was foggy (that is the sort of purple photo you see).  From then on, it was clear and very hot (but no humidity)   In front of the little fish pond is a huge pool.  They are also adding an additional four car garage for Jeff collects and restores old cars.They look brand new, inside and out.  I especially liked the Lincoln Mark III

Although their address is Sebastapol, they are closer to a little town called Graton.  A charming little town that looks like something out of an Old West movie (except for the cars).  We had dinner there one night. They also toured me around the area for several hours taking me along the Russian River where they used to own a condo.  The Russian River area is mostly redwoods and quite beautiful.

The area is devoted to wine, with vineyards everywhere.  Although years ago it was apple country as evidenced by the lone apple tree on their property.   They have a wine club membership in one vineyard where we stopped and sampled wine while sitting in a picnic area next to the grape vines.  It was lovely and the wine was good (but not cheap!)  The next day we also went to another small wine tasting in Graton.  I love wine and drink a lot, I am just not a wine connoisseur.  Then we took a long walk through the woods, passing vineyards.  It is mostly oak, pine trees and some redwoods (no palm trees)  It was decided that the last night we should drive back into San Francisco because I had a 10:30 flight in the morning.  They said the usual commuter traffic in the morning could take us four hours and we would have to leave before 4:30am.  I was just as glad as I got to see their place in San Francisco.  It is in an old Victorian, but totally redone and gorgeous with a small deck and fern garden in the back yard.   Unfortunately I could not get good pictures.  Photography is not my forte, so forgive me. All in all it was a wonderful relaxing trip and the flight home was without a hitch.  Well, except for my own mistake.  I checked in at one of the little kiosks.  I was surprised when after I paid the ridiculous price of  $26.00 for the checked bag it printed out the bag tag.  Why don't  they charge for the carry on bags.  They cause delays in boarding and deplaning.   The screen said "proceed to boarding"  I did and was half way through security when I realized I still had my bag.  The TS A people were not happy when I tried to get out of security.  I had to check my bag as I carry tooth paste too large to pass security.   As nice as the trip and the visit was, I am always very happy to be back home in Mexico.

It was not such a good time for kitty.  When I first thought about my trip, I decided to take her to the vet and let him keep her for the time I am gone.  He could "fix" her and check her out, give shots, whatever she needed.  So I went to arrange it with my local vet.  He did not want to keep her.  He said he already was boarding three dogs and it would not be a good idea.  I peeked around the corner and saw this tiny room with cages.  Kitty has never been confined in a house, let alone a cage.  She would go crazy even without the dogs.  So I decided that it would be best just to leave her here on her own.  She managed for the year or two before I met her.  Her sister does just fine living under the fish taco stand next door (well that, plus what she steals from kitty).  Her sister can share now.  But I still needed to get her "fixed".  I made an appointment with the vet to take her in at 9:00 and pick her up at 3:00.  Jennifer loaned me her carrying case for her dog so I placed it in the living room so kitty could get used to it.  Being the curious cat that she is, as soon as she spotted it she headed over, sniffed it and climbed in and laid down.  Wonderful!  But I could not give her any food after 8:00 the previous night, so that morning I left her on the balcony screaming.  After 8:00 I decided to get her in the cage.  Sure enough, she went right in.

But, I had never tried to attach the door before.  It has a hinge and two locks.  I could not get one of the locks closed.  Since I still had to shower and shave, I just pushed the cage up against a heavy chest I have.  She screamed so much that I closed the door to the bathroom.  Not too long later, she stopped screaming.  Good! I thought,  But when I opened the bathroom door, I found that kitty had opened the door and pushed herself away from the chest.  This time she was not anxious to get back inside.  Her four paws were splayed with all claws out.  Some how I manged to get her in and finally lock the door.  I dropped her off at the vet, but a few hours later he called.  I panicked!  Did she die on the operation table, or maybe she was really a boy?  No, it seems that she had already been "fixed"  By whom and when?  I told him I would be right down.  He said she was already sedated and not to come by until after 3:00.  She was still extremely groggy and when I opened the cage, she had trouble standing up.  Her back legs were not functioning.  He said the sedation would only last a few hours, but four hours later she was still staggering.  She kept screaming and pacing back and forth by the sliding glass doors.  She wanted out.  I could not let her onto the balcony as she has to jump three feet to reach the rail, or five feet to reach the hole in the wrought iron to get to the apartment next door,  Had I planned this better, maybe I should have got a kitty liter box and a bed for her.  But I had not, so I took her down to the front door.  She looked warily around (like she had no idea where she was) but eventually got across the sidewalk and under a car.  I thought this may be the last I see of her.  The following morning there she was waiting for her food.  She acted like nothing had happened and was just as affectionate as ever.  Did she really not remember, or was the desire for food over powering her judgement.  Who knows?

I fed her quite a bit the last day.  She is getting so fat, she could probably go for several days without eating (not that she would like it).  I was afraid that this would be the final straw and kitty would vanish before I got back.  But there she was waiting on the balcony in the blazing afternoon sun.  She was hungry, but otherwise acted like nothing had happened.  Maybe they really have no memory.  But then, my memory is not was it once was, so we make a perfect pair.

LOS INSECTOS Y LOS PESTICIDAS (PESTICIDES)

When you live surrounded by a jungle, one might expect there would be insects.  (and you would be correct)  They come in all variations and sizes here.  Some are really scary like the "jungle spider".  It has a leg span of 6 to 8 inches and is hairy.  A couple of years ago, I wrote a posting about the one I found in my bathroom in the middle of the night.  The most insidious is the mosquito.  Now, I understand the ecological reasons for bees, flies, ants, and even termites, but why in Hell did God create the mosquito?  In Vallarta they are so tiny people call them the "no seeums".  They are smaller than a gnat and make no noise.  There is no buzzing sound to alert you.  Not only do they bite like Hell, but carry all kinds of diseases.  Denge fever is the worst.  I know many people have become extremely ill with it, although I know no one who has died of it.  The Zika virus is just beginning to appear here (coming down to us from The U.S,)


Every four to six months, I call Allen to spray my apartment. He sprays the floors, walls and ceilings, and then sprays the balcony and my entire terrace which is huge.  He charges 250 pesos and it takes him two hours.  He is a nice kid (who does speak English) and also mops the entire place when he is done spraying,  so I started giving him 300 (about $18.00) .  This year I waited too long.  I think the cat food had something to do with, but I had ants everywhere.  The ants come in three sizes.  So tiny you can only see them on a white surface, the regular ants, and then huge black and red ants that I really hate.  Kitty used to gobble everything I gave her, but now that she learned she has food on demand (by screaming) she will only eat part of it.  I guess she plans on coming back, but either her sister (the evil twin) will finish it or the ants get it.  I do not know where they come from (maybe I do not want to know) but if a speck of food lands on the floor within minutes they surround it.

The ant guys keeps telling me the stuff is harmless to humans, but then why does he wear a gas mask?  For months any bug that ventures across my floor will start to shake then roll over dead.  How can it be that harmless?  I am sure whatever the stuff is, it is illegal in the U.S. Of course I do not plan on getting down on the floor and licking it.  Even if I could get down that low, I would not be able to get up.  It kills bugs big and small and unfortunately I will lose a few small geckos after he sprays.  We have more than ants here.  One day kitty crossed the balcony railing with a cockroach in her mouth (it obviously came from my neighbor)  She dropped it in front of me.  Did she think I wanted it, or was she just trying to show me she could be useful.  The following day after the spraying, not one ant appeared around her food.

Bees come in three varieties also.  The regular honey bees, a small skinny black bee and a strange large blue bee.  Not really sure what it is, but it acts like a bee around flowers,   I had also noticed that I seemed to have more wasps buzzing around my terrace.  Then Saul pointed out a wasp next hanging in the back yard on a small tree.  For the photo I did not want to get too close, so you have to look hard to see it  It looks like a strange fruit right next to the trunk of the tree.  I wanted to see if I could get a photo with the sun hitting it, but apparently the wasps built it where it is always in a shadow,

 Most evening you will hear the katydids or crickets (especially during the rainy season)  They will be joined in song by a tiny frog that sounds like a piccolo.  As soon as we get the first rains, the termites swarm.  For weeks I will be sweeping up the wings.  Where do the bodies go, if all I find are wings?  They attack any piece of wood they can find, especially my Mexican equilapli furniture.  But the bug man gets them too. We also have what they call "rain flies"  It looks like as black termite and swarm just like they do.  You will see them clustered around any light burning (another mess to clean up)  I mentioned the huge green grasshopper that can devour a whole palm frond in a day.  Also there are many other strange creatures that I do not know the name of.  Like the tiny ugly brown bug that has eyes that glow in the dark.  They look like blue aqua jewels. At night we also have huge black moths. What amazes me is how few flies we have.  Southern California has far more flies.  I think the iguanas eat them.  By the way, I still sometimes spot my green iguana crawling along the wall.

My plants are like my children and I take very good care of them.  With all the rain and humidity my big pink plants were invaded with something that looked like tiny aphids.  My regular spray did not work.  I would wash each leaf, then spray and the following morning they were covered with the bugs,  So I called Filipe to take me to El Dragon where all kinds of chemicals are sold.  They speak no English so I had Filipe explain the problem and I had brought some leaves with the bugs on them in a sealed plastic bag.  The man ruminated about it for a while saying things I did not understand to Filipe who translated some of it.  Finally he came up with two bottles.  He was explaining how to mix them in the sprayer.  One and a half milliliter of one bottle and a cap of the other in a liter of water.  What is "one milliliter"?  They tried to explain to me and finally Filipe said we would stop at a pharmacy and pick up a syringe.  Then the bill came 480 Pesos.  I was shocked and sure I did not understand.  I have never paid anything like that in Mexico.  He explained that he could sell me a cheaper pesticide, but it would kill the plant.  (What would be the point in That?)  He also said that it would last for four or five years.  I saw no need to tell him that I did not have four or five years.  We had just bought two blue blooming vines for my wrought iron that cost 30 pesos, so you can understand how astounded I was.

I was sure the druggist would think I was shooting dope so I sent Filipe in to buy it. (cost 18 pesos) Can you even buy a syringe in the U.S.?  Of course you can buy almost any drug you want at the pharmacy with no prescription.   We also have the farmacia similar stores where they carry all the generic drugs at a fraction of the cost.  Prescription drugs (without prescription) are very cheap.  I have an insurance policy in The States where any drug will cost me $5 to $15, but I can buy it here for $10 with no insurance.  The pharmaceutical lobbyist do not have the control over the government like they do in The State (the drug cartels do).   So anything you cannot buy at the local pharmacy, you can buy on the streets.

I carefully measured out the two chemicals and sprayed away.  It seems to be working, but I do have to continue the spraying.  After about a week and three liters of spray, it seems to be working.  To my delight, the butterflies still feast on my flowers every evening, along with humming birds.  Some how it has no affect on them.  So, my plants are happy; I am happy and my place is almost bug free   What a beautiful life it is.


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LLUVIA EN VERANO (SUMMER RAIN)

This year has been the coolest summer in the six years I have lived here.  Of course we have at least another three months more of summer, so I could change my tune.  Now it is still often down right uncomfortable, but thankfully we have had lots of rain this year. Without the rain, summers in Vallarta would be almost unbearable.  Luckily summer is the rainy season.  Which seems odd to me, but then coming from Southern California, rain seems unusual. This year the rain started late.  June was hot and humid, then the rains started.  Almost every afternoon clouds roll across the sky keeping the blazing sun off my windows. It rains mostly at night.  Many nights this July I did not need to turn the air on.

I love the rains here and not just because it lowers the temperature.  Dust is a constant problem here with the cobble stone streets and all the belching buses.  Rain cleans up the town, not only does the dust almost disappear, but all the foliage gets rinsed and everything is a bright green.  The hills get sort of brown and dusty looking during the winter, but now they are a verdant green.  The tall coconut trees in the picture of my view off the back are at least five or six stories tall.  They were shot from my terrace on the third floor.  Twice a year an old skinny guy climbs up and cuts down the clumps of coconuts.  He used nothing but his feet and a rope around his waist.  He cuts them off with a machete.  But first he wraps a rope around the clump and slowly lowers the coconuts to the ground.  Once they hit he sort of jerks on the rope and it comes free and he pulls it back up.

I love sitting under my cabana (with cocktail) and watch the rain beat down.  Sometimes it pours off my roof like a waterfall.  Now some days  it will just sprinkle which only increases the humidity, but this year we have had lots of downpours.  The rain drops can be the size of a dime.  Since Vallarta has no curb gutters or storm drains, the water all flows down the streets until it reaches the beach or river. You can see how flooded my street gets and I am five block higher above the beach.  You can imagine what the lower streets look like.  I have seen the water up over the curbs and across the sidewalks.  No photos of that as I do not like to go out during those downpours.  I do not mind getting wet, but am terrified to cross a cobble stone street under six or eight inches of water.

You can see how my plants love the rain and how bight and green they all are.  Of course about a half dozen are under the cabana, so they still have to be watered and sprayed.  I love my plants (all 32 of them), but they do take a little work.  Just during the rainy season I do not have to water most of them.  Most nights the clouds come over in the late afternoon and the rain starts around 7 or 8:00.  Sitting under my cabana, I enjoy not just the rain, but the thunder and lightning show.  The lighting can come so rapidly that it looks like the street is being lit by strop lights.  You can tell how far away it is by the time it takes for the thunder to hit. At times the lightning is directly overhead so I hear the loud crack of the lightning with almost immediate thunder.   The clap is so loud it seems to shake the whole building. It is a show unto itself.  We all pray the rains continue, but we also have the hurricane season (September and October) to look forward to.  Oh, yes the electricity might go out.  Usually just for a little while, but that is why we all have candles about.  It never dull here.   Maybe this isn't really paradise here, but in my old age, it seems a perfect place to live out my days.

Kitty does not mind the rain or the thunder.  She keeps dry curled up in a corner of the balcony.  She is quite happy here and rarely strays inside.  She knows I do not like it.  She disappears for a while each day to go to the bathroom on someone else;s property.  Her evil twin

shows up on occasion, but she is afraid of me and runs as soon as she sees me.  Oh, I can be pretty scary  looking, especially in the morning.  One day I spotted her eating the last of kitty's bowl while kitty sat right next to her. She looked up at me with the big blue eyes as if to say, "What's the big deal?  I just invited her  over for tea"  Next she will probably go down on the street and scream "Free lunch on the balcony at 265" and I will have ever stray cat in town on my balcony.  But, like everything else in life, I will deal with that when and "if" it happens.  People in Mexico do not worry about what "might happen"  and I like that way of thinking.

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EL GATO DEL BALCON

As a rule, I do not like to do sequels, especially immediately following.  But I have had many comments from readers about kitty, so I decided to make an exception.  ( Well, that and the fact that nothing of any interest has happened to me in the past month).  When you live in a country like Mexico we call that GOOD NEWS !   It is summer and all the tourists and snow birds have flown home.  No one is left except the Mexican Nationals and us die hard expats.  Every thing moves at a snails pace (actually in Mexico it always moves at a snails pace).  The restaurants, bars and even the streets are almost empty.  It is just too hot to do anything (not that I do much anyway)

Kitty is now a full time resident of my balcony.  She even stays during the hot afternoons, but curls up under one of the palms and fern plants and sleeps.  I am not sure if she stays there all night or not, but she is always at the sliding glass door in the morning.  Her soft little "mew" has turned to a blood curdling scream when she sees me pick up her bowl.  I finally bought a regular plastic pet bowl, but she prefers the hand painted Talevera wear.  Not that she has such great taste, but the pet bowl is too deep and too small for her to put her foot in it.  She will get used to it, I was afraid of breaking my good bowl.

I bought her a cat toy.  It a little ball with feathers: she ignored it.  I guess she never saw a toy before.  I hung it from the balcony railing with plastic fishing line.  As long as I swung it she paid a little attention to it.  She kept grabbing it with her teeth and pulling it.  Finally she broke the line.  It is supposed to have a tensile strength of 70 pounds, but it wasn't strong enough for kitty.   After almost a week, she decided to play with it.  First she tried to eat the feathers on it, but eventually got to rolling it around,  One day it was gone.  I do not know if she hid it or tossed it over the balcony, but it is gone.  She prefers playing with small insects and lizards.  One day she had one of those huge green grasshoppers.  It is about four inches long and can devour a whole palm frond in a matter of hours.  I told her "Good Kitty"  Next she had a little gecko she was toying with.  By the time I saw the poor thing, it was missing its tail and one leg.  Thankfully she finally killed it.  (Cats love to torture small creatures)   Then she dropped a half dead cockroach at me feet.  I stepped on it.  She was not pleased as she was not through with it.


She has become extremely affectionate.  It is almost too much.  She not only rubs against my legs, but rubs her face on my feet.  Sometimes she will jump up on the chair next to me and then cross over the table. She would like to get on my lap but she kneads my thigh with her claws.  Since I am wearing nothing but thin sort of boxer shorts in the morning, I decided this could be quite painful.  So she will nuzzle my arm and look up like she is about to kiss me.  She has also started entering the house more.  When I pick up her food bowl, she will always follow me to the kitchen. (Why do cats insist on moving in front and between your feet when you are walking?)  I am afraid one day of tripping over her.  If my head hit that tile, I could get a concussion.  I have visions of my lying there for days before some one discovers my body with a screaming cat on my chest.

It usually only rains at night, but one morning it was pouring "cats and dogs"  (Now where did that expression come from?)  She was not happy.  She continued to scream at me after she was fed and petted.  Since moving into my world she must think that I am responsible for more than just how much she can eat.  I tried to explain to her that there was nothing I could do about it. But, of course she does not understand English, so she kept on screaming.  She seem pretty content with living on the balcony.  She gets fed, petted, and it is pretty much protected.  Dogs cannot get to her and the only cat that tried to get near I scared away.  If she curls up in a corner, she can even stay dry during a storm.  Sometimes I find her curled up on my chair.  Once while I was busy at the computer she peaked around the door.  Foolishly I put my hand down to pet her.  Not content with that, she jumped up on the desk and walked across my computer.  This will not do!  So I am training her to stay on the balcony.  I do not scold or swat at her, I ignore her.  Not only does she not get fed, or petted inside, but I do not speak to her.  I will walk out to the balcony sit down and pet her.  She seems to be getting the point and rarely ventures inside.

She is now getting quite picky with her food.  She had decided that she does not want the kibble anymore.  I started mashing the canned meat in with the kibble, but she somehow manages to lick off the meat and spit the kibble back in the bowl.  I told her she should look down at all the starving cats down on the street.  They would love to have some of her kibble.  But she does not care (then there is the language barrier as well).  I also bought her some "treats" that are supposed to be like a reward, but she regards them with the same disdain she does for kibble.   Kitty is not my only new resident.  I have a baby iguana living on my roof.  The first 5 or 6 times I saw him, he was silently sitting on the clay tiles at the peak of my laundry room roof.  Then he started moving down my garden wall near the palm trees.  Not knowing what he eats, I put a mango on the roof.  The birds loved it but he never got near it.  Jorge tells me they only eat bugs.  One morning I was busy hosing my deck and did not notice him until he was on the balcony railing next to the door leading to my kitchen.  I really hope he does not enter the house.  I would not want him in my kitchen and kitty would not be pleased either.

 So now, I must think about what our future will be.  (You know that she does not).  What will I do when I go away for a few days to a week.  Will she revert to being a feral cat again?  I do not know anyone who would be willing to feed and pet her twice a day.  The big question is should I find a way to get her to a vet and have her neutered?  I really do not want her to drop a litter of kittens on my balcony. One cat is enough.  I can pick up her up, but doubt she would willing go into a box.  There is a vet here that neuters all animals free.  He is just around the corner, but you must be there by 8:00am for he only takes the first 15 animals.  I am going to ask another regular vet about keeping her over night, checking her out and neutering her in the morning.  She may never speak to me again.

UN GATO POR UNA MASCOTA ? (A CAT FOR A PET?)

There are probably more stray cats in Vallarta than stray dogs.  It might be hard to notice that at first for most Mexicans and "expats" own at least one dog.  Many are not on a leash, in spite of the law (of course Mexicans tend to ignore most laws anyway).  Also you have to take into consideration that cats are much more secretive.  While the dogs are running all over the streets, the cats are hiding somewhere.  There are many organizations to take care of dogs,  There are adoption centers and one group will neuter any stray dog that is brought to them, so there is some control over the dog population.  There may be some organizations for cats, but I am not aware of them.  When I first moved to this apartment there were at least a dozen stray cats living in the acreage behind me.  They were not all one family for some were all white, some all black, and a few looked pure Siamese.  Then there were those that were a mixture of all of the above.  They all seemed to get along and I was hoping they were keeping the rodent population under control.

My "fix it" guy Saul has an office in one corner of the property with a back door that opens into the vast lot.  Otherwise the acreage is surrounded by eight foot brick walls with chained wrought iron gates.  He would occasionally emerge into the property to clean up something or collect the mangoes, avocados  and coconuts from the trees that abound there.  He has always been a sort of care taker to the woman who owns my entire block.  Then he moved his family to an apartment across the street from his shop.  His kids loved it for they now had their own playground to run around in.  Then he bought them some little baby chicks.  Well they grew up into roosters that crow, and hens that lay eggs.  My bedroom in on the front, so I am never bothered by the crowing.  It was not long before I saw tiny chicks running all over the place.  That was when I noticed that there were no longer any cats.  I asked Saul about the cats and he just laughed (that is what Mexicans do when they do not want to answer you)  I figured I was better off not knowing so I let it drop.

There were always cats in the street in front of me, mostly around the two taco stands.  One "alpha male" got my attention as  he slowly saunters across the street paying no attention of people or cars..  He acted like he owned the street and was afraid of nothing and no one.  He will lie down in the street totally unafraid of anyone stepping on him or a car running over him.  Once when a car passed too close to him, he leaned to one side and hissed, as if to say "how dare you invade my space"  When a hapless dog approaches him, he will maybe raise his head off the pavement along with one paw and hiss.  The dog backs away and the cat goes back to sleep.  I used to see him climb the wrought iron gates to the church and go inside late at night.  I assumed that is where he slept.  But the church replaced the wrought iron gates with sold wood doors, so I do not know where he sleeps.  Nor do I know if he was the reason for the new doors.

One morning while sipping my coffee (and smoking) a cat dropped down on my balcony.  She was obviously a daughter of the alpha male for she has the some coloring and the same blue eyes, but she is much smaller.  She seemed surprised to see a human sharing the balcony with her, but after deciding I was not an immediate threat, she curled up in a corner and went to sleep (you can never tell when cats are actually asleep).  I am still not sure how she got to the balcony next door which is about three feet above mine for the apartment has been empty since I have lived here.  She must climb up a tree next to it.  Most mornings she would make an appearance.  I tried speaking to her, but she ignored me (maybe she never learned English)  Always a little wary of me, she would occasionally cautiously cross the balcony railing in front of where I sat.  Finally I decided to try feeding her.  I was making a tuna salad and gave her some.  Next I decided to buy her some cat food.  She would stare at it for a while, then creep toward the food.  She still would not let me near her, so I started moving the dish closer and closer to where I sat.  Eventually I could reach down and stroke her back, but if she saw my hand coming down, she would leap back.  (makes you wonder what her childhood must have been like)

Now every morning when I get up, there she is.  Usually sitting in front of the sliding glass door but sometimes on the balcony railing. I wondered how does she know when I get up?   Sometimes I am up before it is totally light outside and even before I switch on a light, there she is.  Then one night I got up about 2:00 am to pee and saw her outside curled up on my door mat.   In time she began to walk back and forth in front of me, allowing her tail to swipe across my legs.  I began to pet her and she seemed okay with that (as long as I fed her right afterward).  Sometimes she comes inside, but merely sits in the middle of the room staring at me.  She occasionally meows but it is a tiny soft voice I can barely here.  She eats more and more,  I remember cats sniffing their food and delicately eating just some of it.  She gobbles up the food very quickly.  There is nothing dainty about the ways she eats or laps up milk,  When she is through eating (or decided she isn't going to get any more)  she will sit on the door mat and wash herself.  She also uses it as a scratching post.  Then she will move into one corner, curl up and go to sleep.  I think she feels safe there from other cats or predators.

By the time the late afternoon sun hits the balcony, she is gone for the day.  Maybe she has another home somewhere.  But then, I am not stupid enough to sit on the balcony with the sun beating down either.  By then I will be up on my terrace under the cabana (usually with a cocktail).  She has yet to discover the upper terrace.  Since living alone, I have often thought I should get a pet for companionship.  I remember my grey hound Mauii when I came home from a long day, he would jump up and down and wag his tail (actually his whole rear end).  It was so nice to have someone happy to see me when I got home.  But I always had a house with a yard in the States.  The idea of walking a dog two or three times a day does not appeal to me for I am very lazy (and OLD!)  Then I thought about adopting a cat but you have to mess with the kitty liter box and what would I do with her when I went away?  My friend Richard has canaries, but they do not give me that "warm fuzzy feeling".  So now I have a sometimes pet cat.  I have yet to try to pick her up, but she is quite happy with my petting her now.  She will probably never jump up and down and wag her tail, but she is there each morning to greet me.  Yes, she is probably only interested in the food.  After all she is a cat, but having someone (or thing) that needs and depends on you is still a nice feeling.


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UN VIAJE A GUADALAJARA

For the first time in nearly six years, a friend of mine was going visit and actually stay with me.  He would be my first house guest (well, except for the week Jennifer spent here hiding from the "mad Frenchman")  Since he was planning on two weeks, we were going to visit Guadalajara for four days. I was very excited about the trip: then he had to cancel due to illness.  I was very disappointed for I had looked forward to his visit as well as seeing Guadalajara  Just a few days before he cancelled, I had bought two tickets to Guadalajara, so I asked Jennifer if she would like to go.  The tickets are non refundable.

Kathie and I have traveled all over the world together, twice in a small cabin on a boat.  And Jennifer had stayed with me, so she said, "Yes".  I had trouble re-booking us a room but then I have a problem with just about anything I try to do on the computer, so she booked the room.  They said it was a large two bed suite with a balcony, so I can smoke (or so I thought).  Nothing turned out as planned.  It was the middle of Restaurant Week in Vallarta and a friend of mine from San Francisco was in town so I had been out four nights in a row.  Way too much for me, so I was already tired when we took off.

We took a cab to the very well hidden bus terminal past the airport.  The bus was comfortable and did have bathrooms (more on that later).  As we boarded they were selling snacks and water.  I passed, as I had packed two sandwiches and thought there would be other opportunities to buy water (wrong!) The ride was fairly uneventful for the first 3 or 4 hours and we enjoyed looking at all the scenery as we passed through jungle then up the mountains into pine trees.  We were some where near the turn off to Tepic when the bus stopped. Our bus driver had been a very cautious one, nearly coming to a stop at each road bump.  Then I noticed that we were behind a long line of buses and cars.  We sat there for a while, then I saw one of the buses turning around.  Then our bus started to turn around.  This was not easy as it was a narrow two lane road packed with vehicles.  But he managed and we were headed back where we came from.  No explanation!  The driver is behind a glass door that would not open.  Then the bus was struck by a huge cloud of large grasshoppers.  I turned to Jennifer and asked if she could remember what followed the "hoard of locust" in the Bible. When we finally came to the junction of another road there were the "Fedaralies" in combat gear with machine guns stopping cars and redirecting them.  If anyone knew what was happening, no one told us.  We still do not know.

The "five hour" bus ride turned to over seven hours.  Our first stop was a station on the outskirts of Guadalajara,but we were not allowed off the bus.  We were told the second stop would be "downtown".  Maybe, but a long way from the historic district where we were staying.  There was a line of cabs waiting, but as we were enjoying our first cigarette in seven hours, a taxi driver approached.  We told him where we wanted to go as soon as we finished our cigarette.  At that point other bus drivers started yelling at him (this should have been a clue).  He gave us a price of 150 pesos (we had no idea) and he grabbed our luggage putting it on the curb, then he ran off.  His cab was not even in the line and with the other cab drivers screaming at him he pulled up beside the line and attempted to open his trunk, but it would not open.  He then threw our luggage on the roof.  I tried to tell him it should be tied down, but he said "No problemo"  The cab made several jerks and starts and slowly pulled away.  I thought this was good as he couldn't go fast enough to throw our luggage off the roof (Wrong again!)  Once he got up to speed he was weaving in and out of traffic using his horn to get cars out of the way.  When he was trapped behind a red light he was fiddling with wires under the dash board that  were making a clicking sound.

The hotel was located next to Guadalajara Plaza and on one of the main boulevards.  What they did not tell us is that the road was closed.  They are adding a metro line under the street, so the road is gone .  We were dropped off a few blocks from the hotel and had to wind our way around barricades to get to the hotel.  The street is lined with gold jewelry shops,  but there was one small glass door with the hotel logo.  I was sure this was not the entrance, but Jennifer read the sign that said it was the only entrance.  There was a completely bare narrow hall with a chair where a guard sat.  Seeing our luggage, he opened the door and directed us to the elevator that would take us to the lobby.  It was large but just as bare as the entrance.  We checked in and were given our key cards, so we went up to the fourth floor.  The "suite" was so small that it barely held the two beds.  The only other piece of furniture was the night stand between the beds and there was no balcony, just a picture window looking at the construction site below.  We could not get the lights to turn on.  I know some hotels you have to insert the key card to turn on the lights, but we could find no such slot.  We decided to drop the luggage, find a place for a drink and then return to the lobby and demand another room.  If you looked straight out the window you see a lovely old building with a gazebo where an orchestra played each night.  If you look down you not only see all the construction and huge vats of liquid. I have no idea.

We were very fortunate that in the plaza next to us had a sort of  beer garden  There were lots of tables and chairs sectioned off from the plaza by planters and shaded by many umbrellas.  It was aptly named "Sombrillas".  It was also the only place we ever found were you could have a drink and smoke.   There are no side walk cafes and no smoking is permitted in patios or gardens.  In front of the beer garden was an underground entrance to a huge shopping mall.   Once we had calmed down, we returned to the lobby.  The only kid behind the desk looked like he was dressed for high school (apparently uniforms are just one of the many "costly extras" the hotel does not supply). Jennifer told him how unhappy we were with the room as we expected a larger room with a balcony that the hotel web site showed.  He spoke not a word of English and we were surprised to find that almost no one speaks English.  He said they only had a few rooms with balconies and the hotel was fully booked.  BULL SHIT!  We never saw another person on our floor.  Jennifer set up her computer.  She is a freelance writer and had planned to work on the bus, but even though the bus says it had WiFi, it did not.  I set off to explore the city and try to find a nice restaurant for dinner.  A friend of mine told me of a street near that had three good Mexican restaurants.  Armed with a map, I found the street but the restaurants looked like just one step above a fast food place.  One was full with a waiting line and all of the customers were Mexicans so I thought it must be good.

After we showered and changed, we went back to the beer garden for a few drinks then set off for the restaurant.  It was good Mexican, but a little too spicy for me.  We stopped for after dinner drinks at our beer garden.  The square is surrounded by beautiful old buildings which were illuminated at night.  When we got back to the hotel there was no guard in the little hall way.  A sign said to put our key card in a slot to open the doors but the little box had been stolen!  We pushed a door bell  and someone opened the door.  I stopped at the lobby to ask where I could get some ice.  He said there was an ice machine in the dinning area where breakfast was to be served.  But you had to have your own container as there was no ice bucket in the room.    I had brought Scotch for me and tequila for Jennifer but we need ice.  Always prepared, I went back upstairs and grabbed a large seal-able plastic baggie, I had brought, along with my small portable coffee maker.  I have been in some pretty cheap hotels in my life, but nothing as bare boned as this place.  We were given only two plastic cups, two thread bare towels, one hand towel (no wash cloths) and a small bar of soap.  While drinking in our room we recounted all the events of the day.  I could not stop laughing until my stomach hurt and I started to hiccup (Scotch had nothing to do with that).

The following morning I was up early, made my coffee (I cannot move without coffee).  Then showered and went down to see what breakfast was like.  It was awful.  I told Jennifer what there was as she does eat Mexican breakfast, but that they stopped serving at 10:00.  She went down a little after 9:00 and it was closed.  While she wrote I explored more of the city, looking for a decent restaurant.  Guadalajara is a beautiful city with dozens of plazas and parks with many fountains and gorgeous old stone buildings.   They also still have the horse drawn carriages I remember from fifty years ago.  Every plaza has at least one church.  The styles varied from Roman, to Gothic to Greek, all with stained glass windows, gold altars and statures.  All (I might add) paid for by poor people, Every other street in the historic district is a pedestrian mall lined with trees.  I also located one of the museum that had an exhibit I was interested in.  When I returned to the room, we decided to first go to the museum, then to Tlaquepaci in the late afternoon.  The museum was a long way down Ave. Juarez, but we stopped and looked at some architecture and she window shopped.  The museum was closed.  No sign indicating why it was closed or what days and hours it was open.  Just a locked door.  It was Monday and I guessed like many museums, it was closed on Monday.  Next to the museum was a church, so we went in.  It had beautiful stained glass windows that reminded me of  Saint Chappelle in Paris.  It also had a replica of Michelangelo's Pieta.  We decided to set off for Tlaquepaci.  Guadalajara was hotter than Vallarta, but very dry and it is at a very high altitude.  We were accustomed to neither and that plus the dirt and dust from the construction combined with the pollution of any major city was driving our sinuses crazy.  Our eyes and noses never stopped running.

For a change we had a pleasant cab driver and the road was mostly down a multi-lane highway where we could see signs to Tlaqupaci as well as Tonala.  We arrived to a gorgeous plaza with many shops and restaurants.  The architecture is more colonial and reminded me of Mascota, but larger and the building were in better condition.  It is a suburb of Guadalajara now, but actually Guadalajara (the second largest city in Mexico) just swallowed  the town as it grew.  It has retained its own individual look.  We did not find a single bar or restaurant that allowed smoking, so we left.  At a loss for dinner again, we decided to try our little beer garden which was not bad.

The following day, we had breakfast again at Sombrillas, then while Jennifer worked on her computer I went again to the museum.  It was a well done exhibit showing the influence of Paris on art in Mexico City during the 19th Century and early 20th Century.  Each room was a different theme showing how modern art was developed.  They did have some Diego Rivera's but no Frida Khala.  I was amused at how many Mexican artist tried to be Picasso.  There were many french artists from the period from loans of museums and private collectors in France.  I was disappointed to see that Dali was not exhibited on the section of surrealism.  But all in all a worthwhile visit.  I never found another museum, plus we had planned on going to Tonala to buy some pottery.

The first cab driver quoted 150 pesos and since we were told it should not be more than 100, we moved to the next taxi.  The driver was an old funny looking guy (well not as old or funny looking as I am, but Old!)  He quoted 120 so we got in  He drove in spurts and stops, looking both ways,  We later surmised he was not looking at traffic, but trying to find the right road.  At one point he tried to drive down a one way street, the wrong way.  I screamed at him.  It took him 45 minutes to reach Tonala (the ride back took 20 minutes).  It was all surface streets, no highways and we never saw a sign for Tonala.   We were dropped on a major street that did have lots of shops, but none with hand painted pottery.  Mostly it was crap like the painted plaster stuff you find at the Tijuana border.  Hot and tired and noses running as Tonala was even dustier, I called my friend Richard.  He said to go to the plaza by the two churches.  We spotted the dome and steeple and headed that way.  There were lots of shops and stall in the square, but all junk.  I needed a beer, but no where could we find a bar.  One restaurant that did not serve beer told me to go to the Pharmacia Guadalajara, buy a beer and I could bring it back at drink at his outside tables.  Very kind of him, so I did but the beer cabinet was locked.  I had to find someone to unlock it so I could buy one can of beer.  In the meanwhile Jennifer found someone who knew where we could find good Mexican pottery (did I mention that Jennifer speaks pretty good Spanish).  We walked a good 10 or 12 blocks and sure enough there it was.  She bought some Talevera ware and I bought a large salad bowl I had wanted.  Yes, it is cheaper there, but when you figure the total cost, I call it my 4,500 peso salad bowl.  Happy with our purchases, we headed back to our hotel.   This cab driver used the freeways and got us there in no time (well he got us within a few blocks of the hotel).

I went to the beer garden while Jennifer went upstairs to do more typing.  It is a beautiful spot with nice breezes and the waiters got to know us (Jennifer is a lavish tipper).  I sat there looking at the buildings, all the people (the plaza is always full of people) and the fountains,  Suddenly I looked up and what did I see, but a restaurant on the second floor of the same building as our hotel.   Through the french windows I could see tables set up with linens.  I checked menu and it looked fine to me, so after showering and dressing for dinner we went there for dinner.  I should say that Jennifer dressed for dinner, including high heels (she always looks gorgeous).  I wore the same shorts and a fresh tee shirt.  I had brought long sleeve shirts and pants, as well as a jacket.  We were told Guadalajara got very cool in the evenings (it did not).  Dinner was nice, we sat at a table overlooking the plaza.

Next morning after breakfast at the beer garden (what would we have done without that place?) we packed up and left.  Again the bus depot was a long way off and it was hot.  This bus driver was totally different from the last one.  He drove at top speed passing cars, and trucks on the little two lane roads.  We waited too long to use the bath rooms as we were headed into the mountains.  The bus lurched from side to side as he rounded curves at unbelievable speeds.  While trying to make it down the aisle I was thrown from one side to the other.  There were toilets for men and woman, but smaller than on an airplane. Mine said, (in Spanish) that it was better to sit down.  No Kidding!!  I had a hard time unzipping my pants while hanging on to a bar for dear life while my body bounced off one wall and another..

I am home now and very glad to be back.  Yes, it is warm, but I am used to the humidity and we still have lovely cool ocean breezes.  They will stop mid summer, but then we get wonderful rains.  I do like it here.  It is still Restaurant Week and there are a few more I would like to try once my sinuses clear.  At first I was going to rename this posting HOLIDAY IN HELL, but thought better of it.  If you live through all the traumas, craziness, and problems you will always find it worth while.  I would advise a trip to Guadalajara, but with someone who knows the city (a Mexican preferably)

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