Archive | July, 2023

Have You Always Exercised?

30 Jul

This week, in an almost empty gym, a young woman ambled up and asked me in SPANISH, “have you always exercised?” She had blond hair and a braid down her back the width of my arm. She’s Colombian and has lived in Bacalar four years. I was thrilled by her question.

Nevys

I think many of the locals that work out at the gym think that I don’t speak Spanish, which is barrier number one to conversation. Barrier number two is that I don’t socialize. I’m not chatty, I tend to focus on my work-out, nose to the grindstone. And then there’s the biggest barrier, I’m old.

71 and not getting any younger.

I have worked on overcoming these barriers, except for the old part. There’s nothing much I can do about that. Research clearly shows that a contributing factor to longevity is having close personal relationships, right up there with diet and exercise. In Mexico it is thought rude not to greet everyone with, “buenos días” upon arrival. I make a habit of looking at people and greeting them every morning. There’s been little change in camaraderie however, until this week.

15 months progress. Slow but steady.

I know I’ve talked about this topic before. It is not easy for me but I’m determined. I asked the receptionist her name and now use it when I arrive each day and this week I made a new friend. I will attempt to nourish this seedling. Wish me luck.

DOS TORTAS

Damn Butterflies

23 Jul

She lived across the street from us. Terry was born in South Austin in 1933 and bought her house when she married Bill. They raised two kids there and when we met her she was a widow living alone, her adult children were long grown. Our older tree-lined neighborhood was an Austin treasure with houses built in the early 60’s. It used to be that the only way to buy a house there was when someone died. We got our house because the previous owner moved to a nursing home.

We kept an eye on all the elders in our neighborhood. Terry’s house once flooded. She had a dry creek behind her yard that turned out not to be so dry one spring downpour. Lisa built a French drain to channel the water away from her house. That was the only time she asked for help. She was an independent old coot and we loved her.

My favorite story about Terry was her love for a pink flowering vine called Queen’s Wreath that grew on the side of her house. The butterflies also loved it and gravitated to its sweet nectar. The trouble was, when the butterflies lighted on the flowers, the petals fell off. One day I came upon Terry muttering, “damn butterflies” as she shood them off her beloved flowers.

Queen’s Wreath

A neighbor found Terry unconscious in her carport one day. Her car door was open so she was clearly about to run errands. Her head was bleeding. We never saw her again. Her children whisked her away. We didn’t have a relationship with them and we got complacent. The time for Terry to make her own decisions had run out.

Some time afterward there was a flurry of activity at her place. A couch was carried to the curb. Lisa inquired and was gifted the couch. They were emptying out her house to sell it. Terry was living with her daughter.

We knew the couch was brand new. It took days of airing and scrubbing. Terry also had a big floofy white cat. We still have the couch. As a matter of fact I’m sitting on it right now. Luna gives up her spot now and then.

We left Austin September 2013.

One day I was thinking about Terry and found her obituary. It made me sad yet brought back good memories. And whenever we find ourselves complaining about some inconsequential thing, we remember “damn butterflies” and think of Terry and smile.

DOS TORTAS

Learning To Be Fearless

16 Jul

The 1950s in the United States was a time of recovery. Soldiers came home from war, bought little houses, married and had families. There were five children in our little house. I was the only girl.

My parents lived here when I was born.
My youngest brother had not been born yet.

It was a time of much less fear than there is today. I walked by myself to kindergarten in the fire station a half mile from my house. I loved cookies and milk, listening to stories and drawing. One day the teacher put on lively music and each child was to select a musical instrument to march with around the room. Nothing appealed to me so I choose the baton and stepped up to lead the band. That move got me labeled bossy, and wanting to be in charge, not a good look for a little girl in those days.

My mother braided my hair every day.

On my daily walk home from kindergarten, I passed a house with a large, exuberant German shepherd dog. I barely breathed walking by that house. One day the dog was loose and came charging toward me. He was almost as tall as I was. Instinct kicked in. I glued my arms to my sides and stood like a statue. The dog circled and sniffed and calmly walked away. I knew better than to run but I sure wanted to. I was so proud of myself! I had looked fear in the eyes and survived.

Four children in six years.

I’m not sure where I was going with this story. I wish I could say that fearlessness stayed with me my whole life, but it did not. It took being an older woman to come into that fearless part of myself. Today I would never stand for the bullying, and abuse I put up with at home, in school and on the job. I have a life that I am proud of with no regrets. it is good to be alive. I looked fear in the eyes and survived.

DOS TORTAS

Happy Eight Luna – Mexican Rescue

9 Jul

We never know exactly when Luna’s birthday is. Friends found her under their car tied in a trash bag. She appeared to be a few months old, covered in fleas and tics. I decided that US Independence Day July 4th was as good a day as any to recognize. Happy Birthday Luna.

Left in a bag on the street covered in ticks and fleas. August 2015
She wasn’t much bigger than my sandals. Lanky legs and a puppy belly.
Luna loved the hammock now she’s afraid of it 😆
So regal.
Don’t mess with a blind pug.

Luna is a very good girl. She has a large deep voice that we didn’t expect. She acts like she’ll take your head off but is a big scaredy-cat. It’s hard to believe she’s eight years old. Happy birthday sweet Luna.

DOS TORTAS

Www.Beachdogrescue.org

Folks doing good work here. Donations welcome.

Bacalar Pride

2 Jul

Being members of the over the hill crowd, we rarely venture out at night, by which I mean the afternoon.

A rare sighting.
The new large palapa with the laguna in the distance provides event space for the community.

Friday night, my lovely and I ventured into Bacalar for a date night. We had already postponed it once and were determined to get out of the house, besides trips to the gym and doctors’ appointments. There was a health fair happening in the newly renovated Centro palapa. We put a comb through hair and dug out clean shirts and off we went.

My Sweetie.

There are so many new restaurants in Bacalar but I chose the tried and true Italian on the square. We ate our vegan pizza so fast, it was all but gone before I remembered to take a picture.

Vegan pizza. Artichoke, spinach, and mushroom.

The health fair included free massages which we never pass up. Lisa can take her clothes off faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. The tiny young woman who gave my muscles a squeeze was pretty good. As we were exchanging contact information I discovered that she is the daughter of our new jardinero (gardener)! Even with all the growth, Bacalar is still a small town.

Our Mayan massage therapist Karla.

We joined the Zumba class for a few wiggles.

Gotta love Zumba.

And while ambling back toward the car, we ran into Bacalar’s very own Pride Parade!

Small but fierce.

You have to love Mexican spontaneity. If this little fanfare was planned, nothing was posted, which is the norm. We don’t usually find out about goings ons until they’ve already happened. Not this time!

All in all we had a really good time. Perhaps we’ll venture out a bit more frequently. Once the sun drops to a certain level, the breeze off the Laguna is actually pleasant. And who knows who or what we might run into?

DOS TORTAS

This year more than ever we need all the Pride we can muster.
Emilie Vardaman

travel and random thoughts

A Dead Kennedy

: A journal of a very slooow marathon swimmer

The Soulful Word

Intuitive copywriter + creative director: word whispering magic for personal brands

View From Casita Colibrí

gringa musings from a rooftop terrace in Oaxaca

Your Hand in Mind

Musings of a human factors engineer after her brain was released...

Surviving Yucatan

Smoothing out Mexico's rough spots.

Surviving Mexico

Adventures and Disasters

Perking the Pansies

Jack Scott's random ramblings

WordPress.com News

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.