Monday, November 03, 2014
I have not yet found the rhythm of my new house.
Last night, I was wandering around the place at midnight, even though I headed to bed just after 8. And then I was up at 4.
4 AM is when I went to bed at my rental. But today the house had some surprises in store for me as the sun rose over the walls of my little Alamo.
I keep promising you a tour of the house, and I will do that. But for today, I will tell you I do not have a garden even approaching the complexity of my place on the laguna in Villa Obregon. Instead, I have four planters containing small palms, heliconia, and a fecund vine with yellow flowers whose name I do not know.
Whatever its name is, it is a favorite of the hummingbirds. And they were visiting this morning with their sharp buzzes of "stay away from me."
Hummingbirds are not Mexican. Gregariousness is not part of their nature. They have managed to take Lockean individualism to its extreme.
Being individualists, they are also brave little fellows. When they perch on the top rail above the vines, I can walk up to them without a single flinch. The fact that I am old and slow and 10 feet below them may have something to do with it.
I have not been to the grocer since Darrel ad Christy left. So, my breakfast this morning was an impromptu pan of leftovers. Sautéed tomatoes, garlic, and onion in bacon grease with two eggs, a dash of pepper sauce, and a sprinkling of marjoram.
A nice light breakfast to sit by the pool and watch the flittings of the few birds that visit the planters. All in all, a great way to start my day in Mexico.
I am now off to town to try to determine if the electric bill was paid in full by the previous owner; it appears it was not. Then I need to try to recapture a couple years of data in my restored Quicken.
Life here is great.