if I had a restaurant . . .

first thing I'd do is have my head examined but then I'd post this sign.

I was treated to lunch yesterday by my friend Luly who is leaving our little village to begin a new life in Coronado as a blushing bride.  I will miss her!  She used to hostess the annual Christmas Eve dinner that we all looked forward to.  I wish her all the best as she steps into a new role in a new place.  I grew up in Coronado so I know what she's in for; perfect weather, gorgeous vistas and sunsets . . . sort of like here!

Dago's tonight if Mr. C is feeling up to it.  He finishes his anti-amoeba meds today at noon and everyone says he'll feel a lot better when he stops the pills.  I surely hope so because this medication has made him sicker than ever.  He'll have some more tests when we get home to see that whatever it was that ailed him is indeed over.

among the birthday wishes

Many wonderful birthday wishes from friends and family, and I am thankful for them all.  But I must say, this one topped the list.  From the Granddogs, Huck (front and IN CHARGE, as usual) and Zeke (rear).

 

Big, wet, smiling kisses.  Photo was taken in Cait's little yellow VW bug with the following comment:

"I loaded up the dogs in the Beetle and took them to the Dog Park for "Susan's Birthday Celebration!"  You know how I barely allow PEOPLE in the Beetle…now imagine how I felt with a back seat full of dogs!"

Thanks, boys!

table for four

We had a lovely little dinner party last evening with two of our favorite gents, Mac and Juan.  We started with a festive bottle of prosecco followed by linguini with roasted tomatoes, garlic and shrimp, then a yummy salad and, for dessert, Mr. C's home-made almost-too-chocolate ice cream.  This was all washed down with my new favorite white wine,  Kim Crawford's Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, carted down from the US.  Lots of laughter, lots of good conversation.

The table

The dinner

The guests

the penultimate tinagues

Yesterday's tiangues was a bittersweet trip.  Only one morre ~ next Monday ~ and we're gone.  I'll miss this Monday morning ritual, strolling down one side, visiting the usual vendors for the week's fruits and veggies, meeting and greeting, occasionally finding a seldom-seen treat such as eggplants or blackberries.  Then hauling it all home, giving it "the bath" with Microdine.  This gorgeous chard was on prominent display yesterday.

I know the stems look tough and woody but they were just as tender and sweet as ever.  The bunch was so big it had to be divided and dealt with in two parts.  I called Jack to ask if he would like a donation; he saw it, too, and bought a bunch.  I guess we'll be eating chard for a few nights running but that's just fine with me.

I'll surely miss my weekly trip to Armeria but here's another thing I am leaving behind and will be eager to see again as soon as possible.

spring in montana

From Cait and Mike

Today would have been my mother's 98th birthday.  Happy Birthday, Virginia. 

In celebration we had another perfectly cooked piece of pargo at Fernando's puesto.  Only one more Sunday feast before we head home. Hard to believe that almost five months have passed since we turned off Mex 15 into this place.

mr. c's harvest

Remember the tomato plants, how there were all leaf and no fruit?  Well, given enough time, water, sun, and tending they have finally started to bear fruit.

Little green pearls

We'll be back in the US before these things get ripe but Jack will have a feast!  Except for these.

We're having a little dinner party on Tuesday evening and plan to harvest these beauties to add to the meal.  All of these fruits came off of one plant, the one that now tops 9'!

No opera today.  It's Wagner's Das Rheingold and not being a fan I'll pass and spend the time packing up all my stuff to take home.   We've decided we will fly down next year so anything sizable that we want to keep has to go back this year.  Vincent the Van is going to be jammed full.

Easter at the beach

It's been busy down at the puestos over the weekend.  On Sunday we went to Fernando's for our usual comida and his beach front area was packed.  The tides have been particularly high, too, so the umbrellas, tables and chairs have been hauled up away from the encroaching waters.  Half way through lunch these chaps appeared to serenade the holiday-makers.

Soon the mango man strolled by, carrying his tray of large fruits, cut to resemble pineapples and impaled on sticks.  Along with the sweet and juicy fruit he offers limes to squeeze over them and a shaker of tajine, a chili powder and salt mixture.  You can see that the fruit the girl is eating is sort of brown; it's covered with chili powder.

Watching over all of this was a group of salvavidas, the lifeguards who, on a good day, probably make three or four rescues.  Inexperienced swimmers dash into the surf after downing four or five beers, get caught in the ever-present rip, and then the trouble begins.  I think there were a total of five fatalities in a three-day period.  I'm a good, strong swimmer but I never swim at this beach.   Even with these very cute guys keeping watch.

All the 50-something Mexican men around here were once lifeguards; Dago, Fernando, Juan, Chuy.  Then they aged and opened puestos.  Once a beach rat, always a beach rat.  I should know.