goblins on parade

This is Professor Jiggs's favorite night of the year. All variety of goblin-garbed neighborhood children come out just to see him.


He has no concept of candy or sweets handed over at demand. He simply knows that little arms wrap around his neck and young lips kiss his head. He gets more squeals and giggles than Hanna Montana. And he imagines himself to once again be the puppy I have almost forgot existed.


I suspect he has his priorities straight. Giving and getting affection will trump mere chocolate any day.


I hope you all have (had) a very happy Hallow e'en.

when is a sunset a sunrise?

This is one of my favorite photographs of Melaque. The combination of the spectacular sunset with its gaudy colors -- for which this section of Mexico is famous -- and the shadowy surfers -- watching for the last wave of the day -- helps to remind me why I want to head south.


I may not know how to fully communicate. I may not even know how to successfully flush the toilet. But I know that every day will be another adventure.


I have been working on some interesting alternatives for my move. As soon as I have something to report, I will let you know. But I may not need to retire, after all, to experience the adventure.

birds of a feather

When I was in La Manzanilla in December, I took this photograph of a heron. Since then, I have searched for a specific name, but I have found nothing. I suspect the problem is that it is a juvenile, and I am simply missing some obvious markings.


But it is a very attractive bird. And brave.


The photograph below is of the same bird cautiously skirting one of the larger local crocodiles. I wonder if birds ever end up on the crocodile diet?

In case you are curious, the palapa is a restaurant -- and usually filled with people.


If this conjures up primordial fears of the jungle drinking hole, imagine zebra and wildebeest sitting around the bar tossing back a few while the crocodile decides who is on the menu for the afternoon.

the prodigal dog returns home

One of the Bible's most joyous stories is the parable of the prodigal son. A son, who was considered lost, returns home to his father's open arms.


I am happy to report that there is the same joy in Guaymas tonight. Sitka has returned to Cynthia and Mike. You can read the details on their blog. I will not take away their pleasure of sharing the story.


But I cannot let this moment pass without once again pointing out that my faith in humanity is restored every day when I read the blogs listed in the right-hand column.


We have shared stories of our pets; our loss and acquisition of jobs; our children and grandchildren; our social foibles; our accomplishments; our health issues -- and, in one instance this year, a death. But we are always there as friends and supporters.


Welcome home, Sitka. You are a great symbol of the joy we share with each other.

through a mirror, clearly

This last year, I have started appreciating the art of photography -- once again.


I say "once again" because photography had been a hobby of mine since I was in grade school. I even rigged up a little dark room in our attic -- to little effect.


Then I stopped. Who knows, why? I just stopped. Other interests arose. Politics. Girls. Skiing. All of which would have been good source material. But I stopped.


When I started this blog, Andee Carlsson convinced me that I needed to add photographs. So, I bought a digital camera and took up my lost love of pictures.


The photograph at the top of this post illustrates why I have come to appreciate what cameras can do.


When I framed the picture, my eye was concentrating on the foliage and fall colors. When I saw it on my monitor, I was disappointed because the bright sunlight had washed out what my eye had seen.


And then I noticed the true center of the photograph. The water. The water reflected the essence of what I had seen -- but in a different medium. Almost as if a painting of a sculpture had captured the art better than the sculpture itself.


It was a pure accident. But it will be one of my favorite reminders of this amazing fall in Oregon.


Even the dog recognized that the days need to be treasured. On Sunday, Professor Jiggs insisted on taking a longer than usual trek through some streets where we had not walked together for at least eight years. When we returned home, I realized we had been gone for three hours and had walked about two miles. Jiggs and I set no records with our walks. But he had a great time.


The price he paid? We needed to go to the veterinarian today for another steroid shot. But I have seldom seen him so content.

lost dog in guaymas

I have looked at this picture numerous times today. It is Sitka, Cynthia and Mike's dog in Guaymas.


She chased a cat last night and has been missing since.


I was going to post a piece about what a great day it was in Salem today. But it did not feel right to do that while blogging friends are searching for their missing dog.


When Cynthia and Mike went to Mexico City and their plans there did not match up to their expectations, their blogger friends starting sending out a network of help.


I wish I could join them in the hunt. I can only imagine the fears they are experiencing. But if any of you have friends in Guaymas or the surrounding area, please direct them to cintia y miguel. We need to reunite Sitka with Cynthia and Mike.

reddy kilowatt is in charge

On my last day in La Manzanilla last December, I was walking around the village to get a better idea if I wanted to move there. (If you look at my December posts, you can see I came very close to buying a house there.)


Something caught my eye, and I looked up to see this geometric masterpiece. I was originally entranced with the radiating shapes. [Click on the photograph for better detail.] But a mere moment passed before I saw the metaphor.


No Canadian or American engineer would ever design an electrical system like this. A quick glance shows how disorganized the lines are and how difficult it would be to get the system running again in the event the pole failed structurally. Having no electrical expertise, I will offer no opinion on how the connections are made within the grid.


Instead, we NOBers would have poles and lines marching in military precision down the dusty lanes of La Manzanilla.


But here is the problem with that analogy. This is Mexico. The arrangement on the pole works. And it is art to be appreciated for its own sake. If the pole fails, it will be erected just as the current pole was.


I talked with an electrical utility worker in Melaque this summer and showed him the photograph. His response was spot on: "You Gringos worry about the strangest things. What if ... ? What if ...? Try having fun."


Could the electrical system in Mexico be better? Of course. Is my writing and worrying about it going to make it better? Of course not.


Instead, I will enjoy it for what I first saw it as: a great geometrical form. And the opportunity for another tale.