Air fryer madness

Rosalie has had an air fryer for a few years now. It was originally my idea so that I could make some healthy French fries. I, as a former Brit am used to fries with everything. But, as most things related to cooking go, Rosalie ended up dominating it.

A while back we were in Best Buy trying to get Rosalie a new keypad for her iPad. They didn’t have what she wanted so, as we were too early for our next appointment (the pub) we decided to look around. Rosalie took one look at me and said “don’t you dare buy anything.”

We wandered the aisles until we came to an air fryer lid for her Instant Pot. I wasn’t allowed to buy anything but she walked out with a new cooking toy. I did give her some encouragement though.

When we got home she had to try it out and produced some delicious chicken wings. They weren’t as good as the ones I can do on the Big Green Egg but close enough for me to enjoy them.

We have a bit of a friendly rivalry going on between the Big Green Egg and anything Rosalie cooks. It started with bbq ribs, she won that one, but I still had to brown them on the BBQ. She says she can use the air fryer to brown them now so I have to come up with a different strategy.

Now we’re into pizzas I did one the other day that was delicious so Rosalie had to try to outdo me. She tried and failed. It was okay but…you know, not as good. So now we move on to the next round. Whatever that may be. She can’t rival my breakfasts though. I got the new griddle and cook the best bacon, eggs, mushroom and tomato breakfast ever. She’s so envious. The rivalry isn’t getting too serious but I still look over my shoulder every now and then just to make sure.

So now we had two air fryers. We decided to put the old one on the Facebook marketplace for $40. Before we did so, Rosalie saw an article saying that our old air fryer was recalled. I dove into it with dollar signs in my eyes and found that indeed the model we had was recalled. Never mind $40, now we could get the whole retail value back. All we had to do was register online and wait while they sent us the packaging and details of how to ship it back.

In the meantime, I have to put up with Rosalie trying every concoction she can think of on me to see if she can poison me or not. Apparently, you can cook not only french fries but cakes, roasts, pizza and even sheep’s testicles with a rhubarb glaze on them. I cringe at the last suggestion.

I have to admit that the fries she makes are really good, however, the testicles are a bit chewy. Probably be better if they had been done on the egg.

We’re home!

When Barb and Dave dropped us at home, the first thing I had to do was hook up the propane and water. The water was no problem but the propane was a bit of a challenge.

One of the thirty-pound tanks was full and the other was half full, or so I thought. I hooked them up and turned them on and…nothing. Two factors caused me problems: One: the half-empty tank was actually empty and two: the regulator was not working on one side. Of course, the full tank was hooked up to the bad side of the regulator and the empty tank to the good side, so: no gas. I eventually got it sorted out and we had heat.

It appeared that a few rodents visited while we were gone but did no damage except they ate a few of the Keurig hot chocolate containers.

I had deliberately planned to get home at this time of day so that I could get to the pub for our weekly meeting. Man, am I ever devoted? Rosalie, in the meantime, stayed with Suzie and had a nap as she was still hurting from her fall. When we arrived home the first thing I did was to get the chiminea working and we enjoyed a nice evening by the fire.

Supplies were low after six months away so a few days later we went to Qualicum Beach to stock up. After another few days, we ventured out again to Nanaimo for other supplies. Those two trips cost a lot of money: welcome back to Canada.

One of the things that had to be part of our supplies was a pork roast. When the groceries were unpacked I fired up the Big Green Egg and that evening served up a delicious meal. I also cooked up some nice breakfasts on the griddle. Ahhh, we’re home!

There have been some other issues though, I spent half of one morning phoning around trying to sort out problems, most seemed to be overcharges on our MasterCard. For instance: Amazon had charged us three times for Amazon Prime. It eventually got all sorted out and I could finally sit and relax…then, the thirty-pound propane tank ran out of gas so I had to go out in the dark and the cold to change it. Such is the life we lead at Spider Lake Springs Resort.

Even though there is a bit of a problem with the temperature, we’re used to 30C after all, it’s still great to be back in Canada, we’re looking forward to catching up with all our friends. We’ve already had two drop-ins and a dinner invitation: great people, our friends.

Surprise!!

Our last afternoon at Papa Gallo’s. We were going to meet Ron and Barb for the last couple of drinks before we left the next day. They had invited three other couples so everybody settled in for the afternoon. It was a great time and after everyone else left, we had our dinner. I had Mango Shrimp, absolutely delicious.

There was a lot to do when we got back to the casa so we poured another drink and started to plan. As we were sitting there, Rosalie watched a pickup truck pull up. Rosalie said, “Is that Gus?” The guy got out of the truck and indeed it was our amigo Gus, from Papa Gallo’s. He saw me, held out his arms and yelled “Mi amigo Chreees!” I yelled back “Mi amigo Goose!, (Gus, short for Gustavo.) We did the macho hug thing and as he had his whole family with him, we invited them in.

There was his wife Rogelia as well as his mother-in-law Maria del Carmen and his two kids Gustavo Junior and his daughter Renata who is very cute.

Gus took off to fulfill a commitment to take some stuff to storage for some Norteños who were our neighbours. When he came back, we invited the Norteños in too, for drinks with the rest of the family.

Gus speaks good English but at times we were alone with his wife and her mother. It was great as they stretched our Spanish to the limit. I managed to get most of what they were saying and was able to respond a few times. They saw my problem though and were very patient as they waited for my responses, they also corrected both Rosalie and me when we made mistakes.

I’m sure it’s a Mexican thing but was a little surprised when Rogelia asked Rosalie if we had any rum. She showed her into the house and Rogelia saw that we had Kahlua so she filled a glass with one-third and topped up the rest with milk. Later, she didn’t ask, just went in and helped herself. Gus did the same thing after I gave him a beer. We took no offence and the party progressed nicely.

In the middle of all this, we found 8 Million ants crossing the patio and trying to take over the party. I grabbed a can of Raid and the broom and proceeded to teach them a lesson. After the spider, ants seem to be a minor problem.

If there is a perfect conclusion to a perfect six-month stay, this was it. We had a fabulous time with these guys and I told Gus that he and his family were invited to our casa anytime.

The following morning, there was still a bit to do before the taxi arrived at 9:30. When he got there we had him take us to Restaurante El Patio for breakfast where the food is great and the whole place has an old-world Mexican feel to it. Then we dragged our cases a couple of hundred feet to the bus depot. The rest of the disaster was in a previous blog.

Our flight out

Rosalie woke in the morning with a few aches and pains so I hooked her up to the tens machine and that seemed to help. 

We had to kill time from 10 am until our flight at 4:25. We were able to leave our cases at the hotel so went for a walk to find a restaurant for some brunch. We found one in the marina not far from the hotel and enjoyed some good food. I had a few beers to calm me down as I get a bit nigley when travelling. It was afternoon by this time

We returned to the hotel and got our cases and the concierge ordered a taxi that took us to the airport. 

Puerta Vallarta airport was packed with people compared to the last two years. After getting our re-entry papers for coming back to Mexico, we went and checked in. The process was really easy and way better than in previous years. Because it was four hours before our flight, the process was really fast with no lineups. Same with security. Once our gate was located we managed to find two seats together.

We didn’t know if we could get food on the flight so I suggested that we get a Subway sandwich just in case.

As there was a lot of time I called the hotel in Vancouver to order the shuttle for the evening and then called Virgin Mobile to reactivate our phones. So far so good.

We found our seats on the plane. They were great, located right by an exit door, so there was lots of leg room. The plane was fairly new so it had all the latest technology for watching movies etc. Each passenger had their own screen to play with.

The flight was easy and landed in Vancouver on time. The system like PV was also very easy so we were through in no time. I panicked a bit when my phone wouldn’t connect to the internet and I wasn’t able to bring up the ArriveCan App. I explained to the immigration guy who didn’t say a thing just asked a few questions and let us go. It’s becoming easy now to go through Customs and Immigration. The lineups move quickly and the customs forms with the immigration info are done on one of the machines as you enter the process.

Anyway, the shuttle was waiting to take us to the hotel where we checked in. I arranged for the shuttle to take us back to the airport early the next morning to get the bus to the Harbour Air terminal on the river. We had to catch our flight at 8:30 am so an early start for us.

We got our Nanaimo flight okay and Dave and Barb picked us up. After getting our car insurance we arrived home just after ten am.

More to follow.

Last day

The last day, that is, before we catch our flight.

Rosalie and I spent the night in the hospital. She had a nice comfy bed and I had to sleep on the couch. I thought she was being selfish but she pointed out that she was the one with the nine stitches. I saw her point and let her have her own way as usual.

During the night I had to help her to the bathroom, I had to unplug her monitoring equipment for her antibiotic drip before taking her there and hoped that the alarm didn’t go off and alert all the staff to come running.

In the morning, she had to have a shower. She said she would wait until we got to the hotel but they insisted. I needed to help her so we had a few fun minutes getting her all soaped up and rinsed off without hurting her wound.

At about 10:30 in the morning the doctor showed up, but Rosalie was in the bathroom (again). So he said he would be back in a short while. After about half an hour he came back and declared her good to go. Then we waited again for a nurse to come and take the IV out. I offered to do it but she said “no!”. I don’t know why as we would have gotten back to the hotel quicker.

After about another hour her IV was removed, we got her dressed and proceeded to the public relations office for all our paperwork and the final bill. Surprise, surprise! They said that they were refunding us $100 USD. I almost fainted. The final bill came to $3,386 CDN, which, with a bit of luck, we can get some refunded by BC Med. We are still ahead of the game as for the four years we have stayed for six months, we would have paid close to $12,000 for travel medical insurance. We had planned for this.

The service in the hospital was great. The emergency area was practically empty compared to Canadian hospitals. The food was great and the staff, doctors and nurses were very efficient and most spoke some English.

The administrator called for a taxi and we finally got to our hotel. As we were checking in, I realized that I had left Rosalie’s Temporal card at the hospital. The hotel concierge told me that the hospital was only a ten-minute walk away so I decided to hike it. It was at least twenty minutes and there was not a scrap of shade. I took a taxi back!

That evening we had arranged to meet up with some friends Cathy and Al. After a few drinks in our room, we went to the marina to a restaurant that they knew. We had a great meal and the street entertainment was a lot of fun.

Attention seeker

This and the next blog are out of order. You’ll see why.

We were on the bus to PV and Rosalie need the baño. I was minding my own business when I head someone call my name “Chris, Chris from BC?” I owned up after realizing I didn’t owe anyone money down here. I was told that Rosalie had taken a fall and banged her head badly. She hadn’t even been drinking!

When I saw her I knew she needed a hospital as she was bleeding profusely. The nice couple from Ireland who notified me in the first place were getting wads of paper towels from the bathroom to staunch the flow.

A Mexican guy went to the front of the bus and notified the driver who said he would drop us off at the hospital which was five minutes away. He dropped us almost right outside.

When we got there, they took one look and directed us to Emergency. Rosalie was taken to a room while I did some paper work ready for billing as we don’t carry insurance down here. They also took our cases to look after for us.

First a doctor came and examined her and told us she needed sutures as well as an X-ray and a CT scan. She was hooked up for vital signs and her blood pressure was pretty high, for her. After a while they took her for her scans and I had to sit in the lobby to make some phone calls. When they said I could go back in the surgeon explained what he was going to do. Before they did anything else an administrator came in and gave us our first estimate. About $1,200 USD. not too bad I thought. So a paid $1,000 deposit with my Master Card and went back to the room.

After a while the surgeon came back in and started to do his thing. After cleaning the area up he gave Rosalie a local anesthetic which was probably the most painful part of all. Then, he put in nine stitches and ended up by cleaning up the whole area of all the blood that she had lost.

Next, he went to get the radiological report and showed us that there were no breaks or internal bleeding and everything looked normal. He did recommend that she stay in overnight for observation as sometimes bleeding can occur later. So we agreed. Before they took her to her room for the night the administrator came by again with the second estimate. Another $1,700 USD.

They brought her a nice meal which we shared as we hadn’t eaten anything since the morning and it was now about 6 pm. Then they tried to put in an IV for her meds but had a heck of a job finding a vein that would cooperate. She had several holes punched into her before they finally found one.

I was able to stay with her for the night so I called the hotel to make sure we still had resuvations for the following night. After she was taken to her room I went down to the reception and got our cases.

The doctor will be here at about 10am tomorrow so we should be at the hotel for lunch.

Phew! What a stressful day and we all know she’s only doing it to get attention and a blog written all about her. I’m sure happy she’s okay though.

The last few days

I’ve been playing a lot of solitaire games lately while waiting to go home, so, for those that didn’t think so, I am, for now, now playing with a full deck.

I checked out our neighbours today. they’re a bit noisy but seem to stay to themselves.

We had to go into town yesterday to get a larger pot for our pet bougainvillea which turned out to be a begonia. We were told that as it was a bougainvillea it needed lots of sun and not too much water. However, a begonia needs little sun and frequent watering. No wonder it was starting to look a bit bedraggled. Anyway, it’s going to stay with Dan and Linda at Pinal Villa so that the lady who looks after their place Martine, can water it for us. There’s some colour needed in our new yard, so this seems a good place to start.

In town, while getting out of our car we witnessed a minor accident. Car drivers here don’t seem to have any respect for motorbikes, scooters or bicycles. So this motorbike with what we suppose was a mother with her adult daughter driving, came to the cross street just as a car appeared. She hit the brake and slid on the sand on the road and the bike fell over sideways. Mum ended up on top of the daughter and couldn’t get up so I and a Mexican guy helped her to her feet. Neither seemed any the worse for wear, just a bit shaken up, but the bike lost a side mirror. The sand here on a paved street is almost like driving on ice.

The patio was looking a bit mucky so I grabbed a mop to clean it a bit. Just as I was going into the casa I saw a huge spider. That thing must have been two feet across. (Well, three inches anyway.) He saw me and the fight was on. I tried to nail him with the mop but he (or she) ran straight up the wall doing about 50 km an hour. I finally hit it with the mop at which point he disappeared. I’m pretty sure he was tangled in the head of the mop so I literally mopped the floor with him. I’m not going near that mop or the laundry room ever again though.

The packing is almost done and all our stuff is off the floor; hopefully high enough to stay out of any floodwaters. We aren’t convinced that this place will flood. There doesn’t seem to be any signs of previous water damage and it’s on, what looks like to me, slightly higher ground.

Tomorrow is a travel day to PV. First, a taxi to El Patio for breakfast and then a walk to the bus terminal. Four hours later we arrive at our hotel.

We’re gonna miss this place!

We’re in!

After a call from the caretaker, Castulo’s son, who speaks good English, there was a lot of jumping up and down. He told us that we could move into the new place right away. I think Rosalie would have gone right there and then, but… there was a hockey game about to start so I vetoed the idea. Besides, there wasn’t anything prepared for us to sleep over there.

This made everything so much easier. The move could be made without having to worry about what was needed in each place. Just move the essentials and then get the rest of the crap later. A few things had already been moved and plans were being made as to what to move next. The rest of the end-of-season packing can be done at our leisure over the next week. Of course, we have to store everything up high as we have no idea if we are going to be flooded or not.

Everything was moved in six carloads. Rosalie couldn’t help because someone had to wait for the Propane guy. (Or maybe the butane guy; we don’t know which.) He said delivery the next day but we think he meant the day after the next day.

I had to take a cold shower as there was still no propane. Brrrr! The gas truck showed finally up, oops! wrong truck, this was the bulk delivery guy. He said he would make a call and the right guy would be there soon. I didn’t believe him…five minutes later he showed up. The guy’s name is Alex and a very nice person. He swapped out the tank and checked for leaks. We had never seen any delivery guy do that before. Of course, he found some. The Tank itself was leaking from the base of the valve so he had to get another tank. Then he put some Teflon tape on a joint on the hose. He tested again and this time everything was fine. He gave us his number for next year.

There were a few other teething problems. The toilet needed some fixing as the flushing handle stuck down. Also, after a great night’s sleep, I was up at 6 am and enjoying a cup of coffee on the patio, when, at about 7:10 I got the dawn chorus from the nearby military camp. Not much of a video because the second half was still mostly dark. I think it was awesome. You may have to turn your audio up a bit louder. The first bugle starts at 5 am but we usually sleep through that. These clips are shown in reverse, the first taken at 7:30 am and the second at 7: 10.

I thought we would miss the birds at the old place, but there seem to be even more here. We haven’t heard any doves yet But I’m sure we will. There are the inevitable roosters but we’re used to them. I was saying to Rosalie that at least there are no goats here. A half an hour later a huge tribe went right by on the street. Oh well!

Next door to us is a vacant lot and someone jokingly said “I hope they don’t build a high rise there. We laughed! On our second day, someone was in there cutting down trees with a machete. I hope he wasn’t clearing the lot but just looking for some scaffold poles.

After I had unloaded the last carload I had a rest and then went uptown to buy a few things. I need a new charging cord for my Mac book as I fell asleep twice with it on my lap and it fell off landing on the cord where it plugged into the computer. I blame Rosalie for this as she should have woken me. I also tried to return some empty beer bottles that have been laying around for a while only to be told that they don’t take those back anymore, nor do they refund our deposit. I also bought an electric kettle because at the end of that day, still no gas.

Oh yeah, and the goats came by again; several times.

Mexico

Not my usual kind of blog but interesting if you want to know what Americans think about Mexico. Writen by an American.

Fred on Everything

By

Fred Reed

Corrective Notes from the (Very) Deep South

American notions of Mexico are often decades out of date or just wrong. Nativists suffering from what appears to be minor mental unbalance sometimes refer to it as a Third World hellhole, which is silly. The country has problems, corruption, organized crime, uneven distribution of wealth. The bureaucracy can be maddening. The cartels engage in intramural massacres. Things are uneven: In remote areas roads have sometimes crumbled to the point that cars need to proceed at two miles an hour, while elsewhere first-rate modern highways punch through horrific mountainous terrain. Yet all in all, Mexico is reasonably prosperous, modern and, in most things competent. It is not Japan or South Korea, not a technological leader and never will be, but hellhole it ain’t.

Among outdated ideas is that the Mexican population is exploding. It is not. The CIA World Factbook puts total births per woman in Mexico at 2.17, .07 above replacement, and mother’s mean age at first birth, as 21.3. In the Fifties, the birth rate was astronomical. Now, no. Why the change?

An anecdotal explanation for the drop in fertility: When I came to Mexico twenty years ago, I met Lupita, a pretty and very Indian woman, from a family of eleven (!) siblings. She had two children. The son is now a lawyer, the daughter a doctor. Why only two children, I asked. She said she could have two, raise them well, and live in a nice house, or have a dozen and live in a shack, and said that if I tried having a baby, I wouldn’t want ten more. I might add that Lupita and her American husband founded a successful elder-care service, with Lupita handling the facility and routine nursing with hubby managing patient relations.

A broader explanation for the drop in fertility and a great many other things in Mexico is that the country is becoming middle class, loosely defined as having a house, job, husband or wife, refrigerator, and children in school. The middle class all around the world has low crime, small families, and values education.

Health in Mexico is generally good. The Fact Book puts life expectancy at birth in Mexico at 76.9 years.America: 77 years. These figures do not suggest a disease-ridden hellhole. 

Another belief common in America is that Mexicans would all move to the US if they could. No. In the past the reason for emigrating northward was money, nothing else. American culture is seldom attractive to Mexicans. As the economy has improved, emigration has dropped, with impoverished Central Americans now going north.

Mexico is not a technological backwater. Landline telephones, cellphones, and WIFI work. Mexican airlines have good safety records, train their pilots, maintain high-bypass turbofans and avionics. In Guadalajara, a medical center, I have twice had eye surgery with good results, an MRI, for $150, and various instrument-heavy procedures. The poor, rural, and uninsured have less access to medical care, but this is also true in America, where many do not go to doctors because of cost. 

Racialists in America believe that Mexicans lack the intelligence to run a technologically modern society. This is silly, especially given that they are doing it, but enough people believe it to make it worth examining. A little thought reveals that any visible technical service requires a long chain of tech-savvy upstream support requiring many competent people. Consider banks, which are everywhere. Banks contain people who understand currency transactions, intermediate banks, accounting, and such, and sit at computers maintained and networked within the bank by somebody the bank itself linked to corporate, probably in Mexico City, by wide-area engineers and systems programmers, all talking to each other on a telephony net involving thousands of cell towers and hierarchical switching centers run by alpha-geeks and software wizards. Similar chains could be adduced for other fields.

The Mexican government, while not at East Asian standards, does most things fairly well. For example, when Mexico started vaccinating for covid, the first vaccination was a badly organized goat rope, though everybody eventually got the injection. Months later, the second was a walk-in, the third much later well organized. To get the certificated needed to fly, you enter your CURP, the Mexican social-security number, at a governmental site, and the document appears moments later by email. None of this is astonishing, being routine in modern countries. Which is my point.

Education? The World Factbook puts literacy at 95 percent, ahead of America (Ed. Dept. Baltimore.) The country is heavy on universities. For example, there is UNAM, the Universidad Nacional Autónoma e México, in Mexico City with 350,000 students. The Technológica de Monterrey, the premier technological school, has campuses in 38 cities.

In Guadalajara there are:

La Universidad de Guadalajara. La Universidad Marista. La Universidad Autónoma de Guadalajara. ITESO (Jesuit, the sciences, 11,000 students).

OK, I was going to make an exhaustive list of universities in Guad, but decided it would take too long. Herewith a list for any interested.

I can’t judge these schools on quality, but they are at least reasonably good. At the two I have experience of, the Universidad Marista where my stepdaughter Natalia did her undergraduate, and the Universidad de Guadalajara, where she earned her Master’s, the kids dressed casually but neatly. They seemed to see a connection between learning law, engineering, or medicine and making a living. The vapid immaturity of American universities is not there. 

A few years back, at a fiesta de quinceañera, a coming-out party for girls reaching fifteen years, I met a young woman who had popped high on her math PAA (Prueba de Aptitud Académica, the Mexican SATs, and was going to study robotic engineering. Again, I cannot judge quality and do not even know which university she planned to attend. However, tests of math aptitude, girls in engineering, and robotics do not well fit the American nativist notions of primitivism.

(For what it’s worth, the PAA consists of three parts. First, reading complex passages and making inferences from them; second, math; third, English, this part being elementary. Sample question: La recta con ecuación y – 1 = 5(x – 1) contiene el punto (0, p). ¿Cuál es el valor de p? “The plot of  y – 1 = 5(x – 1) contains the point (0, p). What is the value of p?”)

In the US, though it seems to be dying, there is the idea that Mexican society is machista and oppresses girls and women. This is nonsense. Mexican feminists, who know more about it than I do, tell of residual prejudice, as do American feminists, and Violeta reports that among the Indians of the south this can be serious. Yet half of the Mexican congress is female (US, 27 percent). Since these are elected positions, with universal suffrage at eighteen years and older, the population cannot be Talibanic.

While I do not have statistics on higher education, the two universities with which I am familiar are littered with girls. Dentistry and medicine, to include specialties, are, to my personal knowledge, heavily female. Again, I am no student of the matter, but things seem to be at about the First World average. Saudi Arabia it isn’t.

I feel foolish pointing out as if displaying an exotic animal that Guadalajara, a large city, has the things that one expects in a large city. Yet so many racialists have such curious ideas about Mexico that I do it anyway: Guad has 88 bookstores (of which I know perhaps six, all good) and other regions keep up. This astonishes conservative friends who visit.

Poverty exists, some of it ugly, and should not be lightly overlooked. While (says the World Fact Book) per capita GDP is at $17,900, distribution is highly unequal, as increasingly is the case in America. “Middle class” in Mexico would in the US be called lower middle-class. Much of the economy is informal, with people washing cars in parking lots for a living, or windshields at stoplights. Not good. On the other hand, Mexico does not have America’s sprawling homeless camps on urban sidewalks but (here I am guessing) Mexico’s closer familial bonds may account for this.

The narcos are as bad as you have heard, and probably worse. They have been out of control as long as I have been here. Given the amount of money involved, there probably is no solution. Americans, in their tens of millions eager for drugs, provide the market and furnish the narcos with weaponry. Latin America, certainly including Mexico, provides the drugs. On both sides of the border, banks want the laundered money, or launder it themselves. Politicians want the bribes. DEA, FBI, and so on want the jobs. The drug trade is an integral part of the world economy, like Walmart, and isn’t going to go away.

The internet is pervasive.  In the first month of 2021, there were 92 million active users, 88 million mobile users, in a population of 131 million. The social media seem as much a plague here as anywhere else. People peer at smartphones as much as anywhere.

Here I speculate but I think the Net has worked a massive transformation in Mexico. As mentioned, it is, as we used to say, all over hell and half of Georgia. Coverage is good in populated regions. Bars and the like have screens, often several. The net is a big deal.

When I came through Ajijic almost forty years ago, towns around about were backwaters barely with newspapers and a.m. radio as the only link with the larger world. Today Mexico’s teenagers, as bright and curious and larcenous as everybody else’s, are aware of the whole world. They listen to music from Memphis and Mongolia, almost live on Facebook, watch movies and soap operas from China and Japan (these are available with Spanish subtitles), and use VPNs to (I love the phrase) “espofear los servidores,” spoof the servers, to get streaming content free. For adults, major countries have news services online in Spanish. When people who once would have been called rednecks, or gente muy ranchera, have access to the net, they will use it. It makes for a different world. This morning, for example, in La Jornada, I read a Spanish translation of Noam Chomsky’s thoughts on the Ukraine. This sort of thing is normal now.

Finally, large numbers of Americans live here happily. While estimates vary, Business Insider puts the number at 1.5 million. Why? Perhaps they just like Third World hellholes. Otherwise there are reasons positive and negative. On one hand, living is easy here, somewhat cheaper than in America, with year-round good weather in many parts, friendly people, with most conveniences, shopping and so on available. On the other hand, Mexico does not have the intense anger that eats America, nor the Knockout Game, race riots, and burning cities that have become routine NOB (north of the border, as we say here). No wars. No Biden. No Trump. No wokeness. you could do worse.

The BIG move

Since we found out that the previous tenants of our new place were moving out, we have been itching for ourselves to move in. Things became a little complicated with a huge tragedy. Blanca, who will be our new landlady lives in Oregon with her husband Junior. They are Mexicans and planning on retiring here soon. A few days ago Junior was shot to death in Oregon. There aren’t too many details only that the gunman has been arrested.

We went over to West Melaque to see if we could help out closing their place up but it seemed that things were all under control for now. We may be needed next week though.

The keys weren’t available so a trip was needed to go back later, so off to Rosita’s for breakfast, (one of three by that name that we know of.) I had Huevos Rancheros, two eggs on crispy tortillas, frioles and the whole thing covered in tomato sauce with avocado on the side; also a cup of very good coffee. The whole thing was delicious and mine came to 105 pesos or $6.72 Cdn, with Rosalie’s, it all came to about $12. We’ll be going back for dinner sometime before we leave Mexico.

This is the bacon we get here, delicious, with very little fat and as you can see another bunch of poppers are getting made.

Back to the new casa that evening to meet up with Castulo to get the keys so that the big move can begin.

It’s been fun trying to hook up with all the people we won’t see until next fall. A few days ago, after picking up Dan and Linda, who own a house in Pinal Villa the four of us took a panga across the lagoon in Barra to Restaurante Colimilla. A great time was had by all and at the end of the day and it was capped off with the Leafs beating Boston big time.

We’re looking forward to getting back to Canada. I think the boys at the pub are missing me; yea right: Peter said they already gave my seat away. I don’t think he would do that as he likes me too much. 🙂

Packing still needs to be done, but it’s a bit difficult as a lot of the stuff is needed day-to-day.