The Tonsil War

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 21:43:00 +0000

the last of the posts

I began this blog on October 24, 2006, a bit over two and a half years ago. Its purpose was to keep interested readers up on the Patient's progress through illness and treatment, recovery, and finally restoration to health. I called it The Tonsil War because that's what his diagnosis was; tonsil cancer. This is not as rare as you might think. One of its principal causes is smoking and, although the Patient had not smoked for over 35 years, there he was with thoroughly poisoned and compromised tonsils. Treatment began on September 25 and ended on November 14, 2006. How to deal with all the questions friends and family asked? How to be sure I told everyone the same thing, and all of what they wanted to know? How to keep myself sane during this insane time? Thus was born the blog.

As of Monday, June 1, 2009 the Tonsil War was declared won. The Spousal Unit is no longer the Patient. The doctors ~ oncologist and head and neck surgeon ~ have both given him a clean bill of health and have pronounced him "cured." He is now a statistic, a survivor of tonsil cancer. We knew from the outset that this is a highly curable cancer, about 90% survival rate, so the outlook was good from the start. It's the old saw: If the disease doesn't kill you the treatment will. He got through them both, a bit thinner, but that's about all the remnants.

With all that in mind, I have decided to close this site.

BUT

I will continue writing about life in general and, frequently, mine specifically. You will find all that great stuff at: The All of It. The new site will be ready for your visit beginning Monday, June 8, 2009. Y'all come see me, y'heah!

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Thu, 21 May 2009 16:41:00 +0000

off again

I am leaving today for San Diego and a round of alumni follies at my old boarding school in La Jolla. This year's honorees, among others, will be the Gold and Purple team captains, of which I was one. Every member of the school belonged to one or the other team (Gold for me) and in my senior year, I led my stalwart classmates to a resounding rout of "That Other Team." In fact, I am staying with the Purple captain who was my adversary that year. If you don't hear from me again you'll know where to start the investigation.

BLOG ALERT: Grandson Andrew leaves tomorrow for a 7-month stay in China. He goes first to Shanghai where he has a summer internship. In September he will travel to Singapore where he will enroll in university for the first semester of his junior year. Back to the US sometime in December. He has started a blog; keep up with him at Andrew Abroad. He made the top of the masthead to your right. I can't believe his mother is letting him go off alone like this. He's only 12, isn't he? Oh, 20 you say? My, my.

More from La Jolla as the weekend passes. I just got a call asking me if I would speak tonight about what it meant to be the Gold Captain and how sports influenced my life. I'm speechless.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Tue, 19 May 2009 01:29:00 +0000

getting back into my other life

First I did several loads of laundry to wash out the Cuyutlán sand and grit. Clothes get a dingy shade of tan, no matter how much bleach I use. The water is just not very clean. Everything looks much better.

Next I got a massage. The cost is more than 10 times what I pay at the beach, but the reason I live at the beach is so I can afford to get massages here.

Then I had a pedicure. First in 6 months. I don't dare to let anyone not familiar with diabetic foot issues wield clippers on my feet. Brightly painted and nicely trimmed.

Then the Patient decided he just had to buy a new car. Vincent (the Van) is no longer with us. He was traded in on an as-yet-to-be-named Toyota van; Sienna again, same color, just a newer model. Good old Vincent had gotten us to Mexico and back 8 times and had 120K miles. But he was beginning to have a few aches and pains so it was decided he should be retired to be adopted by a new driver who, I hope, will love him as much as I did. I will miss him. This new guy (or gal) has waaay too many bells and whistles.

Today brought a trip to my local waxing emporium. I don't look quite so scary. It's much too hot in the valley to even contemplate garden work. It was 100º yesterday, but the weather prognosticators promise cooler weather beginning tonight. Yes, the Delta breezes are already up and it looks like better days ahead.

And tonight, my first movie in 6 months. I vaguely remember these interviews, shown on PBS, I think. I will rent the originals from the Flix®. This movie is a stunning recreation. And Frank Langella is brilliant. Next in my cue is "Milk." I believe in jumping right in to the thick of things.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Sat, 16 May 2009 20:40:00 +0000

girl power

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Fri, 15 May 2009 01:42:00 +0000

2,318 miles later . . .

It was a long, 8-days-of-driving trip, and neither of us felt well the whole time. We both had developed jippy tummies before we left, the Patient more so that I. So the whole safari was a chore and not much fun. We made it home yesterday at noon after a mad dash up I-99 from Bakersfield. Despite all, there were some interesting things along the way.

D-day minus 1, Tuesday, May 5

We had a final dinner at Dago's so none of us departing the next day was forced to cook! He was as usual, a welcoming host with a fine hand at the grill. Fish tacos. So long until December.

Day 1, Wednesday, May 6

The house was completely packed up, fridge empty, garden got its last drink, and he headed out at 10 AM. We went only a far as Tapalpa this day so didn't have to leave at the crack of dawn. We first went to Sayula to look at/for knives. But we felt so awful, it was so hot, crowded and dusty that we decided we could do without any new cutlery and went on to Tapalpa. It is a 20-mile drive on a very windy road up into the mountains. We found our hotel, unpacked, and immediately went to sleep. About 7 o'clock we wandered out looking for a place for a light supper and ended up at some rather dingy hole-in-the-wall place where we ate what we thought wouldn't make us (too) sick. It didn't. Then back to the hotel and back to bed. I will say this about these two little towns: I definitely want to go back to both of them when I am feeling better. Sayula has a bustling downtown with two or three plazas, lots of interesting shops, two big indoor markets and a very pretty church. Likewise Tapalpa. Our hotel was down in the lower part of the town; the cathedral and central square are on the upper level. We didn't go up there at all but saw it as we were driving out of town the next morning. Both of these places are well worth a second visit, and they are only about 2 hours away from the beach.

Day 2, Thursday, May 7

We had a very short conversation early this morning about just how far we thought we could drive. We decided we couldn't make it all the way to Mazatlán, despite the new road, so opted to stop at our favorite hotel in Tepic, Las Palomas. We got there early, slept most of the afternoon, had an early dinner and went to bed. (Not very exciting reading, is it?) We have stayed in this particular hotel several times; it has large, comfortable rooms, a nice pool area, and two good restaurants, which were wasted on us as all we could think of eating wa soup.

Day 3, Friday, May 8

We left Tepic early and got into Mazatlán by 10 AM. What a great change from the slow, truck-clogged 2-lane old road. We saved almost 2 hours of driving time. If we had felt better on Thursday we could have made it to Mazatlán easily. It's a long drive but it stays light late and there isn't much traffic on the autopista. These Mexican toll roads are really terrific; they are well-maintained, not heavily traveled ~ there is a parallel 2-lane free road for drivers who don't want to pay the tolls ~ with frequent gas stations and rest stops. After coming from the interior, you come around a wide bend in the road and there's the sparkling blue Pacific that we left just 2 days ago. We blew on through Mazatlán and headed for Topolobampo, a bit west of Los Moches. Topolobampo is probably the most down-at-heel Mexican town I've ever been in. It makes Cuyutlán look like Montecito! But it does have a beautiful bay that flows into the Gulf of California.

If you want to take the ferry to La Paz on the Baja, this is your embarcation point. We hoved into the only hotel in town, La Marina, every bit as seedy as the town itself. Again, after a nap, we headed downtown to the only restaurant, Chicho's. We sat upstairs (where the red life rings are hanging) with a view out to the bay. It was a full moon but we were too tired to stick around to watch the moonrise.

I was feeling a bit better and ordered a big bowl of fish soup.

And it was absolutely delicious. Since I hadn't eaten much for three days, I dug right in and worked my way through the various sea creatures the chef had tossed in. White fish, shrimp, squid and lots of pulpo - octopus.

The broth was rich and warming and very flavorful. The little octopus tentacles were sweet and chewy. Or at least I thought so! The Patient thought it was like trying to eat rubber bands.

One thing this little town has done is to clean up its waterfront. The last time I was there, in 2007, the west end of the bay was a total mess, with falling down houses, a road so rutted and pot-holed it was impossible to drive it. Lo and behold! They have tarted up the place beautifully, built a waterfront malecon with lovely lights, a new street, nice benches. Now all they need is another restaurant and a new hotel. Nothing fancy, but a view of the bay would be terrific. One thing at a time . . .

One other thing about the name of the town. This is Yaqui Indian territory, and for some reason they were enamored of the "suffix" of "bampo." There must be 50 towns around this area whose names all end in "bampo."

Day 4, Saturday, May 9

We left Topo early and headed east to Alamos. We wanted to get to the cafe at Solipaso for breakfast. This was the first real meal the Patient had eaten since dinner at Dago's. We decided to stay at the hotel. Ther are only 3 rooms but one was available, a big, cool high-ceiling'd hide-away with a big, comfortable bed. Right outside the room wa this lovely patio, cool and inviting in the midst of really searing heat.

After breakfast we made the mistake of going out for a walk. As they say, only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun. It was a real wilter of a day and I finally had to beg for mercy and go back to the hotel and take a nap. But I did manage to see the indoor market ~ bustling with Saturday shoppers ~ and the beautiful church on the main plaza.

While I napped, the Patient did his internet reading. The late afternoon heat beat down in the patio but the walls of the room were so thick that it stayed cool and pleasant inside. Finally we decided to go out for a light supper (again) of soup and salad. Hit the spot.

Day 5, Sunday, May 10

Sunday morning the hotel put on a wonderful Mother's Day Brunch for hotel guests and locals. The hotel's cafe is a popular meeting spot for breakfast or lunch, and it's easy to see why. Cool, comfortable dining areas, really good coffee, and a menu offering both Mexican and gringo dishes. (By the way, there is a very big gringo ex-pat community here who are busy buying up old houses and vacant land to use as retirement and snow-bird residences.) Frittata, blueberry pancakes, orange muffins, Canadian bacon, dark, rich coffee . . . a lovely send-off. This year the celebrations of Mother's Day for both the US and Mexico are on the same day. The Mexican day is always May 10, no matter what day of the week. In the early afternoon we left Alamos, baking in the hot sun, for the cooler climes of San Carlos. This is my last glimpse of the Pacific ocean ~ except if I take a trip to So Cal, which I am doing next weekend ~ so I don't want to miss it. We could have made it from Alamos across the border to Tucson, but a night in San Carlos is not to be missed. Back on Mex 15, the toll road, for another few hours of driving through the Sonora desert. It actually looks the same as what's on the US side; cactus, wide expanses of a whole lot of nothing. Flat, dusty, empty. But finally we got to San Carlos, found a room at our traditional hotel, and settled in for a 16-hr stay. The view is as I remember it.

This hotel, the Fiesta Real, has 30 rooms, each one facing on the sea with a great view, a good dining room, a very nice beach, decent pool, and reasonable rates. What's not to love about it? That's why we've been coming here for 9 years. San Carlos is growing by inches, not by leaps and bounds. It was originally the overflow from Guaymas, the coastal town about 30 miles to the west. Then it became its own up-scale retreat. Now it has a few hi-rise condos where both Mexicans and gringos have vacation retreats. There are a couple of very old neighborhoods; the new stuff is up in the hills and nobody pays any attention to that. It's still very quiet and laid back; a sailor's paradise. After another soup dinner, an early night. We want to make Gila Bend by mid-afternoon tomorrow.

Day 6, Monday, May 11

Up and out by 6 PM. Very light. Varying reports on what' happening at the border these days. Health inspections for everyone? Extensive inspections? Nothing much happens at all. Well, here's what did happen. No health inspections; no questions, no masks, no nothing. But we were asked to pull the car into the inspection area and were escorted into a waiting room off-site. Probably because we have been in country for 5 months. They searched the car thoroughly but they didn't find anything, didn't confiscate any of the "overage" booze (tequilla), and didn't question my syringes. It was a mere slow-down but nothing more. We arrived at the border at 10:30 and were on our way to Gila Bend by 11:30. A straight shot up AZ 19 to I-10 to Gila Bend and, again, our favorite stopping spot, the Satellite Motel. It's a funky space-age joint that pays homage to the 60's and the space program that went on out in the desert near-by. But it has refrigerators, air conditioning, a zillion TV channels, comfortable beds, and easy access to I-8 (our usual route into San Diego). Dinner thanks to Burger King and lights out at 8:30. Medical reports: tummies doing better.

Day 7, Tuesday, May 12

Destination for today is Bakersfield, via San Bernadino and I-395. This was not, I repeat, NOT my idea of the fastest way to get home, but since we were not going to visit my sister in San Diego, this is the alternate route that the pilot chose. As the navigator I had no say. (Vic is still in CT, in a rehab facility, and doing well, from all reports.) It was another long day's drive with heavy traffic and boring landscape. We arrived at our hotel at 3, took naps, ate a light supper in a really grim motel restaurant, and called it a day by 8, when it was still light. It's amazing how dispiriting highway off-ramp motels can be, isn't it? They're all the same, the rooms differ only in the color of bedspreads or size and make of TVs. This one at least had sliding doors onto a nice patio that offered a garden view and a breath of fresh air.

Day 8, Wednesday May 13

Like the horse that can scent home, I knew we were getting close. We got shut of the Bakersfield hotel early and started the great trek up I-99. It took 5 hours. Lots of truck traffic, but the road is good and there are places to stop along the way. We pulled into the driveway at noon and believe me, I was happy to be here. There's really no place like home.

There were the usual sights along the way: the dusty blue tequilla fields that go on forever; the rich, fertile valley in Sinaloa with beautiful irrigated crops of tomatoes, pepper, flowers, berries; the Sonora desert blooming like crazy this year, all the cacti with blossoms of pink and white on the tips of the up-stretched arms. We had only one military inspection point the whole trip and that one was so perfunctory it was laughable. I could have been carrying all sorts of contraband and who would know (or care)? Two agricultural stops for fruit and veggies; again, laughable. We were carrying avocados and limes (fruits) and nobody even looked. We must look honest.

So adios for another six months. We don't know where we will cross next year, El Paso-Cuidad Juarez or Tucson-Nogales. It depends on where the worst fighting is. For now, we are very glad to be home, sleeping in our own bed (the Patient had a lot of back issues with the various beds along the way) and cooking in our own kitchen. To say nothing of speaking our own language, or a facsimile of same.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Thu, 14 May 2009 01:12:00 +0000

home . . .

but much too tired to write. Tomorrow. With pictures. I promise. Now it's off to bed. It's very good to be back.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Wed, 13 May 2009 00:37:00 +0000

bakersfield?

bakersfield.

home tomorrow.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Tue, 12 May 2009 00:18:00 +0000

gila bend, arizona

we crossed the border this morning at nogales. mostly uneventful. no stop in long beach. heading north tomorrow. home wednesday. more then.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Sat, 09 May 2009 18:16:00 +0000

from Alamos, Sonora, MX

No time to write now. Will do so later, with pix. This is the 4th stop on our journey home and so far, the best. What a delightful old town. It's east of Navajoa ~ you are looking at your map of Mexico, aren't you? ~ about 30 miles. Old colonial town that fell on hard times, was "discovered" by gringos looking for an out of the way haven. Now it's getting quite gentrified. We're off to explore the town and take pictures. It's hot here, really hot. My thermostat needs resetting.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Tue, 05 May 2009 19:24:00 +0000

how did we get from here . . .

to here?

I don't know but it all went by far too quickly. Marie and I were talking about it this morning. Neither of us had enough hammock time, beach walking, reading, or gazing out to sea, lost in thought. Or dominoes. Next season . . .

We will disconnect from the internet late this afternoon, hauling down all the equipment from up in the rafters of Neighbor Nelson's palapa. No more postings until we reach the next hot spot, perhaps from the charming mountain village of Tapalpa. If not there, Mazatlán for sure.

Tonight is a quiet dinner at Dago's, then the last of the stuffing and cramming and shoving to get everything away from the salt and the light and the dust. Only 7 months until we're back again! Then everything we did up we get to undo. Fun!

Happy Cinco de Mayo to all you Norteños.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Mon, 04 May 2009 23:20:00 +0000

the last tiagues of the season

It was a very strange experience to go to the usual sight of the weekly open market and find virtually no vendors in sight. The President of Mexico asked people to stay away from public gatherings over this long (5-day) holiday weekend. And they took him seriously. Whereas there is usually a market 5 blocks long with vendors on both sides of the closed-off street, this morning all the vendors could have fit in 1/2 block. I didn't need much since we are leaving on Wednesday, but I did want to take one last stroll up and down to check out the produce, clothes, tools, music, electronics, handicrafts (mostly yarns for embroidery) and plants. Nada. The chicken man was there, the banana/papaya man, and four vegetable and fruit vendors. That was it. So I bid them all adios until next December.

These are the chaps who run my usual vegetable stop. They grow the delicious round zucchini that I love. When they see me in December they know it's time to get those seeds in the ground. By February those sweet little nuggets are ready! And by April they have some grandes good for stuffing. Always cheerful, always helpful. Especially the little gentleman.

Down the way there are two beautiful stalls, one for fruits, one for vegetables. Since I am loyal to my Michoacan guys (above), it is the fruit vendor I patronize. Great place for berries, mangoes, melons, pineapples and, best of all, oranges. This morning he had a wonderful display of apples and plums.

What I really wanted to photograph was the newest selection of bras on sale this year. Many bright patterns and colors. But since they are all the same size as those I photographed a couple of years ago, who would know this not the current stock?

The manufacturer much think that all Mexican women (a) want padded bras and/or (b) that they all wear the same size. These are cookie-cutter bras, all the exact same size.

On the way home I stopped in the Pemex to tank up the van for the start of the ride home. The blazing Primaveras are now in full bloom along the road between here and Armeria. What a show. They usually appear in February but this year they decided to hold off, to make us wait in eager anticipation of this beautiful show of color. We feared we had missed it. Not so.

I also had to tell the beer delivery guy, the gas delivery guy, and the bread delivery guy that we would no longer be buying things this year. El año próximo . . .

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Sat, 02 May 2009 17:43:00 +0000

the birria party

This is the oven.

This is the birria pot going into the oven.

This is the birria, done to a turn after 4 hours @ 500ºF +/-.

These are the veggies roasted in the oven.

This is my plato of birria, papas, verduras y frijoles.

These are little sugar cookies baked in the oven. ¡Postre!

Cheers to all.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 16:52:00 +0000

a week's worth of news

We are down to one week more here at the edge of the world. Our five months are up, the car insurance will lapse in 3 weeks, it's getting hot, the flies are ojut, and it's time to go home. We've been without a phone for most of this past week, the internet connection is sporadic but usable up on the 3rd floor, I've run out of ideas on how to make interesting salads, and it's time to go home. But the past week has not been without it's very good occasions.

While our guests were here we took a day-trip up into the hills of Colima, first to Nogueres and the lovely little museum and arboretum. This place was once a thriving hacienda and sugar cane plantation. It was purchased by the Rangel family, and the son, Alejandro turned it into a museum for his fantastic collection of pre-Columbian art and his own paintings. We did the museum and, while the gents explored the flora in the extensive arboretum, I sat on the cool, shady veranda

and looked out over the green, green gardens.

Over in a corner I found this lovely plant; reminds me of a giant lily pad.

We drove on to Suchitlan, a small town noted for its wood carved masks.

It was once a thriving coffee producing area. Now all that's left of that enterprise are some coffee trees located in the gardens of a wonderful restaurant, Los Arcos where we had lunch. The colorful, imaginative masks of some of the local carvers are on display and for sale in the restaurant.

After lunch we drove around looking for the little town of San Antonio. There is a very chi-chi hotel there, the Hacienda San Antonio, a quite grand $780 USD a night crash pad. I have seen it in the past but, try as we might, we couldn't locate it. So we gave up and drove home.

Friday night was dinner at Dago's (see previous post). Saturday was dinner at P & B's beautiful, high-ceiling'd house down in the colonia. P cooked up his delicious tacos for an appreciate group of invitees. Our guests were impressed by the beautiful sea views and by the warmth and generosity of the hospitality of two of our favorite ex-Ajijic-ers. Sunday night was dinner at Marie's to bid farewell to Helen and Linda who headed back to BC, Canada on Tuesday. More great hospitality. By Monday I was socialized out. It was all I could do to make the weekly visit to the tiagues, not really to shop but to stroll the vendors and get it all fixed in my mind to last me six months. It is always a huge shock the first time I wander into the Safeway or Nugget to shop. I am amazed at (a) the choices, (b) the packaging, and (c) the prices. Food is so expensive in the US as opposed to here. For every bite we take, several dozen bureaucrats get paid. I prefer it here, where the man or woman who grows the potatoes is the one who takes the pesos home. Food is abundant and very cheap. And if you have a lime tree in your back yard, or a mango tree, and it is overproducing, just set out a chair and table outside your garden, put up a hand written sign, and all your produce will be gone by the end of the day.

Tonight is dominoes. Tomorrow evening Fernando and Chuy are hosting a birria party, using Marie's big outdoor horno. It's going to be beef and pork; he could not find anyone to sell him a goat kid. We'll roast veggies and have a big watermelon for dessert. Friday will be the last gathering at Dago's for this season. Most of the gringos will be gong by mid-May. There are about a dozen full-timers who will be here for the summer and fall.

I am sitting up on the third floor as I write this, looking out toward the mountains, across a sea of waving palm fronts. There are a few houses peeking through the groves. To the left I can see just the very top of a Primavera tree, now in full, bright yellow bloom. They are very late this year. I can also see the brilliant fuchsia and white blossoms of the Surprisa bouganvillea in the garden at Neighbor Nelson's. It is a bit hazy this afternoon so the light against the hills is grey-blue, a nice contrast against the various greens and yellows of the palms. Behind me I can hear the sounds of the ocean. It's a strange sight-sound mix to hear the one and see the other. The palms don't seem to be making their usual rattle and click sounds but instead the swish of the sea. But I'm too drowsy to think about it anymore.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 22:38:00 +0000

my daughter the shoemaker

When she was here this morning I asked Chuy if she was planning to join dinner at Dago's tonight. She said no, that she was going to be in the jardin doing something having to do with shoes. I didn't catch it all but thought that I could check later to see what was up. It turns out the local ladies are taking a shoemaking class. The shoes, mainly sandals will later be sold in town. I found this out on an afternoon walk with our houseguests.

We strolled the beach, commenting on (a) the big waves and (b) the high water line on the sand. Some chairs and tables had to be pulled up closer to the puestos to keep them from washing away. In certain places the beach is already beginning to erode about 1 foot. We have see it with drop-offs of 6' to 8' after heavy rain and surging tides.

Dinner at Dago's tonight. Think I'll have shrimp. To hell with the cholesterol. I've only got one more Friday here after tonight and I intend to celebrate at both of them.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 23:22:00 +0000

Happy Anniversary Henry

Today is the 500th anniversary of the coronation of Henry VIII as King of England and Ireland. It was dangerous to be a friend of Henry's, and not only a female friend. For those of you who may have an interest in how he changed the face of England, I recommend this article from today's Telegraph.

In other news, our guests arrived on Sunday and have been, by all reports, having a grand time. We went to the tiagues on Monday. Yesterday they went off to the turtle reserve and in the evening we had lovely grilled fish at Dago's. I have no idea where they went today. We may go up to Suchitlan and the arboretum at Nogueres tomorrow or Friday. They plan to begin a long, slow return to Guadalajara on Sunday. Then begins the big pack-up. Two weeks from today . . .

Today was a lovely luncheon-cum-dominoes down in the colonia It's very nice to have a "day game" every so often. Ten of us gathered at Bobbie's house, at noon for mimosas and a yummy chicken curry salad served in scooped out cantaloupe. I like it when the dishes are part of the meal.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 00:12:00 +0000

does this sound like your life?

I listened to Garrison Keillor tonight. Here is a wonderful song, performed by Tom Rush. It's perfect for those who have lived through more springs that we perhaps are willing to admit. Enjoy.

I have not felt in the pink for the past couple of days so today I just stayed in and, as a matter of fact, in bed most of the day. I am reading a terrific book, "The Untouchable" by John Banville, an Irish writer of prodigious talent, so it wasn't all hardship. This evening I am feeling a bit better; the tricky tummy seems to have subsided a bit. I have sipped only broth all day; a soothing alternative to real food. The bread man will be by any minute so I can buy more comfort food: taleras. I have to be up and doing tomorrow when our house guests arrive.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 02:27:00 +0000

Hartelijk gefeliciteerd met je verjaardag

Last night we went to a lovely birthday party for Chris DeRon, a Dutchman of more charm than is probably legal. A real treasure of a man. He and his wife live way down at the very end of the colonia, just this side of the tortugario sanctuary. They have a wonderful house that is made for parties. Great b-b-q, live music ~ provided by the masseuse Patti and her husband ~ well-stocked bar. Chris is renowned for his grilled ribs and they lived up to their reputation. Many contributions from the 35+ guests; salads, breads, hot dishes, etc. And on the grill, "personed" by two excellent chefettes, ribs and chicken. There was a full contingent of Cuyutlán's finest, gringo and Mexican. The first dancers on the floor were Chris and wife Robbie, swaying to "Spanish Eyes." As you can see from the photo above, Chris is a roly pink-cheeked blond. His wife is a tall willowy brunette with dark eyes, raised in Surinam. He told the story of their first meeting: he was working in a hospital (he's an anesthesiologist) and saw her coming down the stairs. As he said, "I saw her and dat vas it!" A fine time was had by all. Including Chris.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 16:00:00 +0000

my sleepy little Mexican beach village

We took Neighbor and Mrs. Neighbor Nelson up to the bus station in Colima for their trip back to California. Then we went to the Toyota agency to get the car looked at; the idiot light on the dash has come on and the notation in the owner's manual is "Go to Dealer." We have to take the car back this afternoon for a diagnostic check. We have to be sure Vincent is in good shape before we start the trek home.

A phone call to YNHH and my sister brought unhappy news. She had to have all the toes on her left foot amputated. Two were gangrenous, the other three were not getting any blood supply. On Friday she will have bypass surgery to etry to stimulate blood flow into her leg and foot. She was all doped up and really couldn't talk. I'll call again today.

I took a long walk up and down the malecon yesterday afternoon to soothe my sorrowing heart and to check on the health and welfare of my little town after the departure of the Easter revelers. It's in petty good shape, despite rough treatment. It's heart has slowed to its quiet, peaceful normal beat. All four discos shut down after a last gasp on Sunday. Stages have been dismantled, light standards removed, banners gone, speakers gone. It's as if they had never been here, although memory tells me they were! The beer tents that lined the southern end were empty although all the awnings have not been taken down. The Easter-only puestos had been packed up and taken away. Trash wasn't too bad; it will be picked up, piece by piece, by strollers such as I, and deposited in the at-hand badsura bins. The Indian ladies with their jewelry stalls were still there, but they are fairly ubiquitous now. The established puestos were doing a quiet but acceptable Tuesday afternoon business. I looked in at Dago's and saw a goodly number of folks sitting in sling chairs under the umbrellas on the shore. The very visible crowd control presence (local and federal police, army, marines, National Guard) is gone. I understand there were only a few fights, one shooting, and, unfortunately, four drownings. One of them was the nephew of the Governor of Colima. About average. The town hired more than 15 extra lifeguards for last week's crowd. This is always a fight among the hotel owners who are responsible for paying these daring and brave guys (and they're all guys. No Baywatch here.) They don't want their guests drowning but they don't want to fork out money to pay for their security. Ours is not a friendly-to-swimmers beach. And despite all the warning signs posted along the malecon and in the hotels, non-swimmers have too much beer and tequila, too much sun, wander into the surf and drown.

Last night I sat out on the front balcony - soon to be enclosed as a dining room - to listen to the lovely quiet. It was still and cool and very clear. I could hear, somewhere down the beach or in town, a wisp of faint music, Ranchero, I think. The dog next door had a few things to say but not much. The sea moaned and sighed on the shore. No traffic, no voices, no loud music, no disturbance of any kind. Bliss.

Three weeks from today we are leaving this wonderful place. I can only hope that Cuyutlán will pass a safe summer; no hurricanes to take out the beach and the puestos, no earthquakes to take down the houses.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 02:14:00 +0000

se fueron

Yes, they've gone. After a mere 5 days of revelry the crowds have left town. The disco did crank up last night and I was here to enjoy every spin of the turntable. But it is now closed down, the beer tents have been packed up and taken away, the speakers loaded up and carted out of town. This little village is ours again. Or at least it no longer belongs to the disco. The disco pavilion did light up and I had a momentary attack of panic, but not a peep out of it. Tonight it is quiet and peaceful and the only thing I can hear is the lovely suss of the waves on the shore.

Tomorrow we take Neighbor Nelson and Mrs. Neighbor Nelson up to Colima so they can catch the bus to Guadalajara for their flight home. They'll spend the night in Guad and fly out on Wednesday. Their lovely holiday is over but, all things being equal, they'll be back next year. They "host" the internet from their house so if we get cut off for some reason, and we can't restart, you won't hear from us for awhile. We have had intermittent interruptions in service recently but I think we know how to remedy the problem.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 23:21:00 +0000

Happy Easter

It seems like only yesterday that my mother would dress my sister and me in Easter finery and trot us off to church for the traditional Easter service (not the sunrise variety). My Godmother used to send us "sister look-alike" dresses, hats, sox and gloves. Not too many folks doll up in this style here.

Things are settling down after a pretty loud and busy weekend. Marie and I walked the malecon yesterday and commented that the crowds were much lighter than they had been last year. We could actually walk side-by-side without having to squeeze through wedges of hard-drinking, hard-partying folks. If this year's disco schedule follows that of last year, it should be quiet fafter tonight's blow-out. More vacationers will come during this next week, Pasqua but, as I have noted here before, that group is considered a more "genteel" crowd. Supposedly they do not camp on the beach but instead hang out at some of Cuyutlán's finest hotels. Which ones are in that category is still a mystery.

For us, it was a quiet Sunday with reading and resting. I dearly miss my traditional Easter dinner of roast leg of lamb, roasted potatoes, asparagus and lemon mousse. Instead, tongue tacos.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 22:40:00 +0000

such a birthday!

This is a shot of the beach at Cuyutlan. It is covered with beautiful colored umbrellas and bright canvas sling chairs which have come to symbolize life here.

This is a shot of the back wall of my garage.

And this is my birthday present from my friend, Marie.

I cannot imagine a better gift! But as if that weren't enough, a group of us got together for lunch at Morelos for chiles rellenos, served only on Friday's during lent. Delicious. And tonight a little dinner party at Roger's.

I am birthday'd out.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 22:13:00 +0000

and it's only thursday . . .

The revelers have started arriving. Here's what it looked like this morning at 9 AM, off the front balcony.

This area was totally vacant last night. These folks arrived during the night or very early this morning.

Here's what it looked like at 3 PM this afternoon.

Some of these cars will leave this evening. But others will come tomorrow to take their places. There will be more campers tomorrow, too, on that bare patch of earth and huddled along the wall across the street. There will be no parking anywhere in town for the next 3 days. There is a serious police presence, too, including dogs. Many more uniforms than last year. I don't know what they expect to happen but whatever it is let's hope all this heavy armour and army personnel keeps it to a minimum. I woke up at 4:30 this morning and looked out the window. A line of police trucks, lights flashing, was patrolling the surrounding streets. I'm not sure whether to be relieved or afraid!

It is now 5:30 and the disco is getting warmed up for this evening's entertainment. A quick dinner and I'm off to the quiet of the colonia. It will all be here when I get back in the morning. And many, many more party-makers, I am sure.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 18:29:00 +0000

the scorched earth policy

This lot is on the south of side of house. It gets completely overgrown during the year, so by the time we get down in December it is covered with shrubs, cactus, debris, trash, and other items both natural and man-made. Now this might be ok IF the Easter visitors did not take advantage of the sheltered parts of the lot to use as an outdoor latrine. About a week after they all depart the perfume and the flies are enough to make you pack up and head for the border. A few years ago we decided we'd had enough of this back-to-nature stuff and got Fernando to burn off the lot. It did discourage it's use, so we did it again this year. It was pretty overgrown, so first he had to hack everything down and let it dry out. Then we had a big burn and it indeed looks like a war zone. This is the time of year when it gets very damp during the night so in the morning the air smells like there has been a forest fire. We can only hope that no cover and a bad smell will do the trick.

The disco fired up last night at 6 PM ~ a lovely accompaniment to the evening's Margarita hour ~ but quit aat 7. Then from the small hotel across the street came the funky music of a pick-up band. Brass, drums and a clarinet.

Loud but playing good old Mexican music, a mix of Mariachi band tunes and classic Ranchero-style. I walked over to get a better look. A great bunch of old guys, except for the two drummers who looked about 15, having a fine time together.

I went back home and they continued to fill the evening air with really great music, ever so much better then the black fog that pollutes the town from the disco. Around 9 PM they took a break and strolled down to the malecon to play there. I went back to the hotel to see if they would be returning. Yes, at about 10 o'clock. I wanted to give them a propina as thanks. Well, they never came back. Maybe they made a bundle at the beach and didn't bother. At 9:30 the disco started, blew out the town's electricity for (unfortunately) only 5 minutes, and then were back at it. I put on my trusty Bose noise-canceling ear phones and went to sleep. Things will crank up loud and long starting tonight so this is probably the last night I will sleep at home for a few days. I am hosting dominoes so really have to be here to clean up when it's over.

Telmex finally showed up to fix the phone lines. Now if I could just figure out what's amiss with our internet connection . We have to sit up on the 3rd floor (en plein aire as the Patient calls it) to get any reception. I think perhaps our aerial has become so salt- and dust-encrusted that it just doesn't work anymore. But we're now, suddenly short-timers so I'm not going to buy new equipment until next year. Four weeks from today we head home. Much too soon.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 16:47:00 +0000

the candy man

Yesterday afternoon I walked along the malecon to see what fresh hell is afoot for Easter. New puestos, depositos (where you can buy beer and then return the bottles) and, of course, el disco are the first additions. There will be more as the week goes on. This year's disco incarnation is bigger than ever, spread over four lots. Between us and it lies one slender, one-house wide vacant lot, so we get the full enchilada. The "music" will probably start tomorrow night and go for 7 nights, usually until about 4 AM. But I am not going to sleep here; I'm going to spend the nights with friends who live down in the colonia, about 2 miles away. I'll still be able to hear the noise faintly but it won't shake the bed.

There were lots of day-trippers out yesterday, strolling up and down, eating in the puestos (Dago's was packed), surveying the wares of various purveyors of jewelry, ceramics, clothing. One of the prettiest sights was the candy man with his wheelbarrow full of these colorful goodies. He's the most popular vendor on the beach with the kiddies.

Right now it's quiet and peaceful, with only the occasional sound of hammers building yet another stall to sell drinks or food. I finally got through to Telmex to report that our phone has been out for 3 days; they'll come tomorrow. You know, mañana. Since I haven't been able to talk to the East Coast, I have nothing to report on my sister's condition. I'm sure I would have heard either via email or Skype if there was anything to report.

noreply@blogger.com (The Fevered Brain) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 00:11:00 +0000

another perfect day . .

here at the beach. High, clear blue skies, light breeze, beautiful, sparkling surf.

Meanwhile, in Bozeman . . .

Daughter Caitlin reported this morning that they had 40" of snow overnight.Even Ike found it a fun playground.

" I know I left it in here somewhere!"

"Found it!"

For all you readers in Mexico, tonight is the set-your-clocks-ahead time. We'll now be right back where we were, as far as time zones, except for Arizona that has no DST. They're "mavericks" in Arizona, but we already knew that.

No news from YNHH; our phone is not working today. We have to wait until Monday to find out why; Telmex is not answering its 24/7 Emergency Service number. You know, it's coming on to the Easter holidays and people have other things to do.

Es la vida loca . . . es la vida Mexicana.