a strange yellow light

When I woke up this morning there was an unfamiliar yellow light coming through the windows. What could it be? Oh! Sunshine! Hadn't seen any of that for at least a week. It flooded the living room and front balcony with cheery warmth. I quickly stripped the beds, gathered up all the dirty clothes and did two big loads of wash to get things hung out while the good weather holds. It's supposed to be partly sunny for the next couple of days. All this wet has brought out the best in the mosquitoes so we've had spray trucks in town twice; once yesterday in the early evening and again this morning at about 6 AM. We tear around the house shutting all the doors and windows to keep the stench out but that little inconvenience is well worth the bug-free results. According to Chuy there will be another couple of sprays as the town gets ready for carnivale next weekend.

Fernando came yesterday to finish up the painting in the living room. The paint on the "weather walls" bubbles up and peels off in great strips. The cement seems to absorb the moisture and the paint just won't adhere, even if we use every moisture-repelling product on the market. This time is was particularly bad on the NW wall.

Three coats later it looked good as new. In a couple of years we'll have all the walls scraped clean, smoothed, re-plastered and repainted. That's the only way to get an absolutely smooth and even finish. Patch, patch, patch is OK for now, tho.

Across the street from us is a walled lot, unbuilt upon and covered with spiny trees that gradually have grown up to swallow our electric lines and obscure our view. Last week, at our rrequest, Neno the gardener cut down the parts that seriously threatened the wires and that hung over the wall into the street. This caused a great kerfluffle to one of the neighbors who was sure he was breaking some law. After a brief chat this the local policia all was made right and in fact, later in the day a big city garbage truck hauled away all of the cuttings. This morning, Fernando and a mozo came over and went into the lot and cut down three big trees, including the one threatening the lines. He, Fernando, had gone to the presidencia, the local City Hall, to clear it with everyone.



Once the branches surrounding the electric wires were cut away they sagged precipitously. I thought we were going to lose power but the ever clever Fernando went up on our roof and tightened up the lines so they will no longer be a risk to any tall truck that comes up our street. The big improvement is the view. We can now see all the way to the sea (except for the palm trees which, in another couple of years, will be tall enough so we can see through their trunks).

Now some may think that we were better off looking at the trees instead of the wall, but I hardly even see it anymore. It's the glimpses of the blue Pacific I see, and love. Anyway, never fear, those trees will be back in another couple of years. Even if we burned off that lot they would come back. They are post-apocalypse survivors.

Tomorrow's opera: The Barber of Seville by Giocchino Rossini. Starts at noon, our time. That means Dago's tonight for shrimp for my weekly salad. This is going to be a social weekend. Dinner party tomorrow evening to celebrate the visit of our host's sister. Then Sunday afternoon cocktail party to celebrate the host's (a different one this time) birthday. Then next week we have to go to Manzanillo to start the renewal process on our FM3 immigration card. Why this takes more than 1/2 hour I have yet to figure out. But we have to go back in 30 days to pick it up. Est la vida loca aqui in Mexico.

In the time it has taken me to write this, we have lost our sunshine and I am left with 4 lines of wet laundry!