a casualty of life

Bloggers tend to go missing.

When I was putting together plans for moving south, I regularly read several blogs. Some written by people who had lived in Mexico for years. Others written by people who had just moved or, who like me, were in the process of making the jump across the border.

Several of those writers are still churning out copy. But, a lot have closed up shop. There seems to be a natural life cycle for this odd form of journalism.

Even I, during the turbulent August of 2015, decided to pull the plug (farewell). For those of you who thought I had drunk the kool-aid once again. I haven't.

The only reason I have been AWOL since last Wednesday is simple. I have been enjoying life in Mexico with my family.

We have not been on any exciting trips. In fact, we have spent a good deal of time at the house playing Mexican train, reading, and enjoying meals that no local restaurant could possibly replicate.

But we have also been out and about town. Yesterday, we left the house early to give Dora freedom to clean.

On my own, I would have headed over to Rooster's to solve the world's problems with Gay and Joyce over a bowl of oatmeal. But Christy, who grew up in a Mexican-American neighborhood in El Monte, California, is not partial to northern food when she visits Mexico. So, off we went on a walking tour of their new home town.

Mom, at 88, enjoys walking. She is not going to be joining me on one of my 10-mile morning treks. But she is perfectly capable of strolling around Barra de Navidad.

And so we did -- taking in the fish co-op, the water taxi stand, and our newly-refurbished malecon with its monument to Barra's sole turn in the history books (the starting point of the Spanish expedition to the Philippines that opened oriental trade with Spain). We even found a little sidewalk restaurant to feed Christy's jonesing for Mexican food -- to indifferent effect.

In the afternoon, we skipped the animal rescue fundraiser I had placed on our schedule. Christy knew if she went, she would return with a basketful of puppies. And, if I learned anything from my short period with Barco, it is that my house is not a pet-friendly place.

But one event we could not miss was Ed Gilliam's art show. My house is filled with his work. Primarily abstract expressionist pieces (the good life). I was in the market for three paintings -- one for each of the guest bedrooms.

All of Ed's work is abstract. But I place it in two general categories -- representational abstract and abstract expressionism. I have both styles in the house with no name, even though I prefer his abstract expressionist paintings. These two are good examples of both types.

I really liked the painting on the left for its artistic qualities. It would also work well hanging over the bed in one of my guest rooms -- its clean lines replicating both the bed and the planes of the room. A perfect complement to Mexican modern contemporary architecture. Unfortunately, it is too large for the allotted space.

What I need to do is to pick out a half dozen or so paintings and audition them in the rooms they will eventually occupy. Once the paintings are in place, I can start getting serious about building furnishings around the art.

So, the four of us are remaining active. Just living our lives.

Several bloggers have stopped writing saying that their lives have become so routine they can no longer think of blog material.

As long as my family is here, I doubt that is going to happen. Showing them around is like seeing this area anew each day.

But, it also means I will be living life rather than writing about it.