Tag Archives: Inspiration

Mexican Markets Make Me Happy

20 Apr

There’s nothing like a Saturday morning spent exploring a little neighborhood mercado. This particular one is a favorite of ours. There are plants blooming, music that makes you want to dance and many food vendors filling the air with their enticing aromas.

From top left, my MIL, a pineapple, bougainvillea and spicy habanero peppers.

One of my favorite things to do is to strike up a conversation with locals. They are so curious about us foreigners and when they find someone who can speak Spanish, the questions come pouring out, especially about current US politics.

My favorite tropical fruit, guanábana aka soursop. Creamy and delicious.
Sweet tamale with raisins.

Sampling this tamale brought happy tears to my eyes. Tamales in the tropics are made in banana leaves. These tamales were advertised as estilo de DF or made in the style of central Mexico, cooked in corn husks. They tasted exactly like the ones my Mexican mama made for me to celebrate my twenty-first birthday in 1973. It’s funny how a taste or smell can take you back.

No market day would be complete without a frenchie. This stunning brindle was a bruiser named Thor or in Spanish Tor.

An abundance of color. Papayas and limes.

My mobility is still limited but this was a great way to test my limitations, A really fun morning.

DOS TORTAS

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Vacation Memories Continued

6 Apr

Our trip to Cape Hatteras, North Carolina in 1961 holds the fondest vacation memories for me. An eight and a half hour drive from New Jersey, I don’t know how my parents did it with five kids and my cousin Pat. The NC coast was our destination with its picturesque lighthouse, sand dunes and museum of the Wright Brothers, who got the first airplane off the ground at Kitty Hawk.

1903
Keeping sand out of the tent was a full-time job.

My Dad, ever the nature lover, had us up at dawn to take a guided nature walk along the beach, peering into tide pools, collecting shells and tromping through marshlands.

Hatteras Lighthouse

One day we took a ferry to the Outer Banks. We spent the day at the State Park, swimming, building sand castles and getting sun burned. In line for the ferry back to our campsite we discovered that one of two ferries had run aground on a sandbar. We waited for hours, out of drinking water and food, expecting to have been back for dinner.

The ferry present day.

As the afternoon wore on, my mother decided to take the five kids, youngest age three to ride the ferry and walk back to the campground. Dad and brother William (8) were to stay with the car. Sounded like a plan.

Coquina shells found along the Outer Banks beach.

The trouble was, by the time the ferry docked across the bay, and our little troop off loaded, the sun had set, leaving us to navigate a gravel road, in the dark. As children are prone to do, we had left our shoes in the car. My poor mother.

Blue crabs were prolific. My mother’s favorite.

Somehow we made it. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches never tasted so good. Then my mother did something totally amazing, at least to me. She opened a can of grape juice. I’m sure we were all dehydrated but juice was a rare treat in those days. My mother’s job was to save all year and pinch pennies to make our vacation happen. She was the finance person. That night, she doled out grape juice like fine wine.

The memory stays with me to this day.

DOS TORTAS

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Time For An Adventure

30 Mar

With the majority of our outings of late to the doctor, dentist and physical therapist, I needed a bit of adventure. The Free Zone is a 28.5 acre duty-free shopping area between Mexico and our neighbor Belize, about 30 minutes from our door. It is known for cheap clothing, alcohol, perfume and household goods from China, Hong Kong and godknowswhere.

I am not a shopper. My current limited mobility isn’t the only thing that keeps me from walking the streets and perusing the aisles. I did however need a few things that I’ve been unable to find in Bacalar and neighboring Chetumal.

I haven’t been to the Free Zone in years, but the last time I bought a handful of gauzy cotton dresses that are great for tropical weather. They’ve all been worn out of existence and turned into rags. Time for replacements. There is also an international grocery store that carries Indian spices and many uncommon things (uncommon to this part of Mexico). I fulfilled my quest to find miso (Japanese) and black salt (Indian).

Three for $10.

I drove into the Free Zone and immediately found a parking space, which is unheard of. I found my dresses and then used a tuk tuk to get around. It beat me trying to maneuver in unfamiliar territory.

20p or $1.00 minimum

The adventure was complete with lunch at a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant and google directions back across the Mexican border. A quick once over by immigration and back on the road to Bacalar and an uneventful ride home.

I’m not sure what I ate, but it took some convincing that I didn’t want meat. The dish was very spicy.

We like uneventful.

DOS DORTAS

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I Give Up

23 Mar

I used to confidently declare in any medical appointment that I am here for a second opinion because MINE is the first! Like many influencers today, I had strong ideas and thought I knew it all. You can imagine that my attitude didn’t go over well.

I frequently refused antibiotics, routine dental X-rays, and assorted tests. Not this week however.

An X-ray machine the size of an old portable radio. Amazing! I used to work in radiology and the portable machines were six feet tall and weighed hundreds of pounds.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, am tired or just don’t care. My hands are in the air. I give up, I surrender, I quit.

I went to the dentist this week to get my teeth cleaned. Pretty routine right? I was told that I had multiple cavities and a molar that might need a root canal or to be extracted! WTF! I sat for an hour and got half the cavities filled. A few days later I saw an endodontist, young enough to be my granddaughter, to discover that I had an infected tooth and indeed needed a root canal, just not the tooth the dentist thought.

Root Canal

I again sat for over an hour with my nose, mouth and chin numb. The tooth that started all this may need to come out eventually but is ok for now. Sigh.

None of this makes any sense to me. I don’t drink soda or eat sweets. I have a fancy electric toothbrush that I use religiously. Is it the water? My soft bones? Hereditary? IDK but I quit.

Truthfully I no longer claim to know anything about anything. Technology is moving so quickly that it’s extremely hard to keep up. And I no longer want to.

DOS TORTAS

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A Father Extraordinaire

16 Mar

My father was raised by the Boy Scouts. His own father bailed when he was young, and Dad found his people in a sleeping bag, around a campfire and under the stars. He taught me preparedness, first aid, and to love and respect the environment. “Always leave things cleaner than you found them”. We kids spent a lot of time picking up trash, cigarette butts and bottle caps.

Eighteen years old during the Great Depression
On vacation, visiting Fort Ticonderoga in far north New York State.

Dad was a blue collar worker and as our clan grew in the 1950’s we became a family of campers. Five kids piled into our huge Chevy wagon, sometimes including a few cousins and always Fritz, the dachshund. Daddy had his own little scout troop and he loved it.

Our car was blue.

Dad’s factory closed down the first two weeks of August every year. We borrowed a huge canvass tent and my mom managed to buy a camping stove and lantern. We traveled up and down the East coast of the US from New York and Virginia to the beaches of North Carolina. Believe me, camping on the beach takes a special skill.

Cape Hatteras, North Carolina

To give my mom a break, Dad did most of the cooking. Preparing food over a campfire was a challenge my father embraced. He could bake a birthday cake by lowering a cast iron pot into hot coals. He cleverly placed a few pebbles inside to balance a pan of cake batter. The pot was called a Dutch oven, and it worked perfectly.

My brother and I at the New Jersey Shore. Same tent.

I have so many memories of the games we played while driving down the highway. They were designed to entertain without devices and to prevent the incessant barrage of, “are we there yet?” He sang in his baritone voice, songs that I later realized were from his childhood scout troop.

Daddy knew every verse of this folk song.

https://youtu.be/8ZlpNVECeaw?si=FJ_dt_iejc60kNBd

My dad loved parades, holidays, especially Halloween and family vacations. We always won prizes from his imaginative costumes dreamed up at the last minute from wigs, face paint and long underwear pulled from a box that was kept in the attic.

After retirement on a rafting trip with my mother.

My childhood was filled with memories that even now bring a tear to think about. He was one-of-a-kind and those simple times are long gone.

DOS TORTAS

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Not If I Don’t Want To

2 Mar

Years ago I would visit my mom when she lived outside beautiful Asheville, North Carolina. Mom’s place was small so I stayed with her friend Barbara who was kind enough to offer a room. Mom and Barbara were Meals On Wheels buddies. Every morning Barbara and I chatted while walking in her neighborhood among the tall pine trees near the Blue Ridge Parkway. The birds greeted us and sometimes we saw deer in that bucolic setting.

My beautiful mom.

One morning we were walking along and I was probably doing my usual whiny complaining. My life with an aging mother, three children, a partner and a full time job felt full up to my eyeballs in obligation.

Barbara very calmly turned to me and stated, “I never do anything I don’t want to”. I looked at her incredulously allowing the concept to roll around my tired brain. “But how?” I stammered.

https://reallove.com/identifying-victimhood/

What she told me has stayed with me my entire life. “Either I don’t do a thing, or I do what I want or I decide I want to.”

As a young woman, it took me awhile to wrap my brain around not acting like a victim. I still find complaining creeping into my words and thoughts but do my best to put on the brakes as soon as I catch myself. It takes practice to DECIDE I want to take my MIL to the doctor, take the car for service, or get my hearing checked, all things on my agenda for the week. Knowing I can say “no” helps, but there are always those pesky consequences. Better to decide I want to.

DOS TORTAS

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A Most Unusual Birthday Party

23 Feb

Unless you’ve been a student at the University of Texas, Austin, you may not know that there’s a glow-in-the-dark bowling alley in the basement of the Student Union. Said BA is open to the public and is a fun place for an adult birthday celebration. I don’t remember which birthday we were celebrating but friends showed and we had a blast.

Be sure to wear white.

Another year, I invited friends to pack a picnic lunch and fly kites. The weather was perfect.

When my sixtieth rolled around, I was looking for a location to throw a kick ass party and invite a lot of people. Our house was too small and most event places were too boring or too expensive or both. And then I stumbled upon the perfect location, a hardware store!

Closed 2018

A Barnes & Noble bookstore had closed near our house and was replaced by a bougie gardening/hardware store. With a high ceiling, the center of the store had been left open for workshops on composting, solar installation, vermiculture, etc. After a conversation that elicited a few odd stares, management agreed to my odd proposal. The store would remain open and we would provide music and cake! What could be better?

Music was provided by my dear friends The Therapy Sisters.

We took a family picture which included our three kids, DIL and grandson. Hard to believe it’s been thirteen years.

A side note – a few weeks after the party, I wandered into a small neighborhood bike shop that had recently opened. I was talking to the guy behind the counter when he said that he had recently quit Tree House to take this job. I laughed and said that I had had my birthday party there. His eyes got wide and he blurted out,”you’re THEE Alex”?! Ha ha ha. I am indeed.

DOS TORTAS

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Maybe We Should Be Smugglers

16 Feb

In 2018, Clint Eastwood made a movie THE MULE, based on the true story of an eighty something man who became a drug mule to pay off debt and ingratiate himself back into his estranged family. Of course no one suspected for a long time that a grizzled, elderly was moving cocaine.

At the same time Mr Eastwood was making his movie, Lisa and I were driving up Baja California on our way to help out with our new born twin granddaughters. We were stopped continuously while large German shepherds climbed through our truck. Apparently probable cause does not exist in Mexico. Quite the experience.

As time has gone on, twelve years to be exact, our hair has gotten grayer, and the number of random searches in our area have definitely increased. They’re probably due to our proximity to the border with Belize and the general insanity in the world.

Many foreigners get nervous at being pulled over by the military wearing ski masks and toting machine guns. We’ve seen it so often that we hardly pay any attention.

It must be our old white women privilege. We always slow down and wave as they flag us through. Even this week we passed through a new pop-up check point and inquiring eyes peered into the car and waved us on. I always crack jokes that “the drugs are in the back,” to which my wife hisses, “don’t jinx us.”

Apparently we don’t fall into whatever profile they’re looking for. IDK, I think we could make good smugglers. What do you think?

DOS TORTAS

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Three More Steps Forward

9 Feb

I have graduated from the walker to a cane. Watching a YouTube vid taught me how to use the bastón. It’s all about triangles, which is the most stable configuration. The weak leg and the cane move together with the cane on the opposite side. To climb stairs, remember, “good up, bad down”. Move the strong leg first when stepping up. Lead with the weak leg and the cane to step down.

This is the cane I use.

Now you know all you need to and I hope you never need to.

Stela says hi

Actually I hobbled up the stairs this week and drove myself into town. Free at last thank God I’m free at last. Of course it didn’t take much and by Saturday I was back on complete rest. Why quit when you can overdo it.

It’s lovely to be getting stronger. I’ve lost so much muscle in the last five months. At least the light at the end of the tunnel is a bit more than a flicker.

I have much to be grateful for. Hats off to my wife who has lovingly put up with me and become quite the home chef in the process. And thanks to you all who have been my cheerleaders. It has made all the difference.

DOS TORTAS

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Life Is So Unpredictable

2 Feb

When my youngest brother was in hospice care dying of brain cancer, I wanted to do something for him, but there was little to be done. He had stopped speaking and just looked at us with soft eyes. My brother was a character. He was a hair stylist and a massage therapist. He used to volunteer at a prison, going in with only clippers to sculpt Afros. He loved it.

Such a cutie. Youngest of five.

What about a massage? I found the yellow pages (remember them?) and looked for a candidate. I scrolled through the list, getting either no answer or no dice. But then…

He was just beginning to have symptoms when this picture was taken.

I found a guy who was willing to come out. He was a rotund gay boy who had worked on many dying men during the AIDS crisis. He was wonderful. I saw my brother’s face relax. He loved it.

My mother’s wedding.

When our angel was done he asked if we’d like to do Reiki on Michael. Reiki is a hands on healing/energy work. I was familiar but had never tried it. He cradled my brother’s head. I stood holding his feet. My daughter was on one side and my sister-in-law on the other. I closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect.

After his first surgery.

The room was quiet. My hands began to tingle. The only way to describe it was an electrical current entering one hand, traveling my body and out the other. We were a healing circle and I was incredibly moved. As we exited the room, our angel glowed. I don’t know how else to describe it. As I hugged him expressing my gratitude, the TV across the hall was playing “Amazing Grace”. It was as close to a miracle as I’ve ever experienced.

Michael (left) healing from first brain surgery. Me, oldest brother.

I have since become both a massage therapist and a Reiki practitioner. Loosing my youngest brother changed me. I can’t believe it will be the twenty fifth anniversary of his death this year. I miss him every day.

DOS TORTAS

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