Archive | June, 2022

These Dogs Are Not Going To Walk Themselves

26 Jun

As a child, we always had dogs. However, I was never given the responsibility to walk, water or feed them. As an adult, when we expanded our family to include (Princess) Luna, I was puzzled by her barking, anxiety and difficulty sleeping. A quick toodle on YouTube and I found trainer Zak George and his helpful suggestions of taking dogs for daily walks, duh!

You may or may not know that once you do anything a few times with a dog, it quickly goes from a one off, to a habit, to a demand. Their internal clock tells you when it’s time to eat, walk and snack. Once a dog is allowed on the furniture, it takes a LOT of persistence, aka an act of God to break the habit. Our dogs have nothing better to do but wait us out. And they have far more patience.

Royalty

This week on Thursday we had an an arms’ long list of errands to run in preparation for Lisa’s trip to the US. By evening I was so tired that I fell asleep on the couch at 6pm. Of course Stela jumped on me at 7 for her final potty and snack. That dog will kill for food.

Stela the trouble maker.

Come Friday I declared a day of rest. No gym, no swimming, no leaving my hammock ALL DAY. It was a wonderful idea, until around 8am when I felt two pairs of eyes on me. It was time for the morning walk. I was loathe to get to my feet, change into mosquito-proof clothing and pull on my shoes. It’s a good thing I love these dogs, that’s all I have to say. And besides they’re awfully cute.

DOS TORTAS

Love Letters From My Father

19 Jun

My father died almost thirty-six years ago at age 66. He left an enormous gap in my life. Men of that era did not talk about feelings or history. I knew only snippets of his childhood, early relationship with my mother and military service. I will be getting together with my siblings in November. It will be a good time to share stories.

Coupons given out during the war to ration food.

After he died, I naturally went through his things. There I discovered some of his letters to my mother sent from his Fort Knox, Ky. military station. He was twenty-five years old.

Letters written in pencil from a lonely soldier 1945.

Imagine my surprise discovering his overt desire tucked into stories of demotions for not having his shoes tied properly and success on the rifle range.

We’ve got a lot of lovin to make up for Woof! Woof! Woof! Pretty risqué for 1945.
They were a lovely couple for fifty years.

Raising five children left little time for public displays of affection. It’s wonderful to know in their early relationships they were playful and hot for each other.

Lover, take a good look at the floor until I get there cause you’ll see nothing but the ceiling while I’m home.

Finding these letters among his things was such a joy. He always loved my mother which was a wonderful gift to his children. Happy Father’s Day Daddy. I miss you a lot.

Pictures from my father’s wallet.
Always a loving gaze.

DOS TORTAS

Checking Privilege At The Door

12 Jun

Life is slowly returning to pre-Covid days which for me includes Thursday night drawing class. This week we had a group of about eight meeting on the second floor over the Pirate bar. We draw with our non-dominant hand, left handed for me, which helps to develop hand/eye coordination.

Left handed drawing.

The evening started out delightfully with a shapely model. All too often we have young, skinny models with no hips or butt. During a break someone turned on music that was louder than I liked. Then the model, while posing for a longer sketching period, began reading aloud in Spanish. With the reading and the music, it was hard for me to concentrate. Then someone lit a cigarette! Yikes.

My head began to spin. Needless to say I’m the oldest artist in the room. I know how old people are labeled cranky or finicky. While I didn’t want to come across that way, it was exactly how I felt!

An enjoyable evening turned into an internal dialogue with the teacher, requesting that the class suit my needs, turn down the music, and NO smoking. I was clearly no longer having fun. So I gathered my things and left.

During the days that followed, I have realized that it is not the responsibility of the group to meet my needs. If someone smokes, I am quite capable of asking them to go outside. I will also bring my earplugs, as I do in the gym, to protect my hearing.

I am so privileged in many ways here in Mexico. An older, white (from the US) educated, wealthyish woman is pretty much at the top of the heap. Time to check my privilege at the door.

Naked reading.

So I give myself permission to leave the class if I need to, without the angst and self recrimination, and I realize that privilege means that something that is a problem for me is not necessarily a problem for anyone else.

DOS TORTAS

Tropical Storms, Mosquitoes And Mud

5 Jun

What a week, what a week filled with windy downpours and cooler temps. Walking the dogs meant wading through a river of potholes in inappropriate footwear.

After leaving us, hurricane Alex headed to Florida.

Back-to-back tropical storms threatening to become hurricanes provided a welcome reprieve from the heat. We hunkered down and mostly enjoyed the sound of rain and the peace.

A second wave of storms finally moved off providing a beautiful weekend.

When finally venturing out, the mosquitoes made an unwelcome appearance. You must either stay moving, cover up or completely douse yourself in poison, or all three.

Sitting on the dock o the laguna.

Saturday evening saw the first rays filtering through the clouds to provide a stellar sunset. Life is good even in a squall.

DOS TORTAS

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