Motion

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I love catching water in motion. In this case, this was water flowing into my pool from volcanic hot springs.

DSC09983  I’m a terrible judge of distance, but the palm trees being trimmed in this picture are at least 80 feet high. When I moved into my house, I could touch the top of them with my hand.  Two men were up in the trees trimming them.  Two more were on the ground hauling the branches away. The captured motion is the palm frond falling.
DSC02364These birds are a small part of the freeding frenzy that accompanied a visit by millions of sardines to the waters of La Manzanilla Beach.  I have wonderful videos of more of the gulls, pelicans and frigate birds feeding which I will try to post later.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/motion/

Less Spice is Nice

Less Spice is Nice

Once I liked my dishes spicy,
but lately it is getting dicey.
As time progresses, I find it’s not
advisable to dine on “hot.”

Somehow, my tastes have seemed to tame
It’s all those extra years I blame,
that turn me once more into child.
Please, make my taco extra mild!

 

The Prompt: Ring of Fire: Do you love hot and spicy foods or do you avoid them for fear of what tomorrow might bring?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/ring-of-fire/

“Stopping by Friends”–NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 24

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Stopping by Friends Enroute to California

Whose house this is I surely know.
I’m sleeping on their sofa, though
And did not see that table there
And so I stubbed my little toe.

Their monstrous dog must think it queer
To find a stranger sleeping near
And yet no fuss he seems to make.
Golden retrievers are most dear.

He gives his collar tags a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
And wakens me from where I sleep–
A task that is a piece of cake.

The morning’s early, dark and deep,
But now I won’t return to sleep,
for I have schedules to keep
And miles to drive before more sleep.

 

The NaPoWriMo Prompt: Write a parody of a famous poem.

The Magician: NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 23

The Prompt for NaPoWriMo was to choose a card & write a poem about it that applied to my life.  I chose to select a Tarot card at random. What came up was the Magician:

The Magician

Through what I choose and where I give in,
I create the world I live in.
If I’m a trickster, I trick myself
and lay my talents on a shelf.
Seize control and I gain the world,
all my inner self unfurled.
Magic’s not a thing without
or a thing to sell or flout.
It’s simply using the strength within
to play the game of life and win.

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San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico

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Our Greeters in Mazatlan–just outside our hotel room.

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How could they resist those skies?

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Our room in San Carlos. Fancy concrete headboards built into the wall included reading lamps.

DSC00125I loved this backdrop to the town.

DSC00123View from our second floor patio of pool and ocean across the street.

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I fell off my bar stool trying to get this picture. The Mexican lady at the next table looked at me with some disgust. I’m sure she thought I must be a drunk and disorderly Gringo. In reality, I had barely tasted my pina colada and was merely clumsy. (I  don’t know why the younger musician held his guitar up so high.  Perhaps he was accustomed to a higher tide.)

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Blue would like me to inform you that contrary to yesterday’s post, she is not a wino! She just enjoys a glass of wine before bed. Tonight we are in Peoria, Arizona at my sister Patti’s house and she and Jim poured a very fine vintage, so all was made up for in the end.

DSC00124 DSC00131  DSC00155 DSC00158 DSC00143DSC00146DSC00144 DSC00145 I never did figure out what was sticking out of this gull’s head.  It looked like a toothpick or porcupine quill that had grown into his skull.  He didn’t seem to be in any duress and he spent some time surveying our totopos from close proximity.  We didn’t throw him one because when we had done so for another gull earlier, within seconds, 20 or more gulls were swooping in for their portions.  We hadn’t realized we were the objects of such close attention, and I’m sure the waiters, pictured above, must not have appreciated it, but they were too gracious to comment.  We showed appreciation by throwing no further chips, although a man next to us did.  I got a wonderful shot of him eye-to-eye with a gull, but then realized my camera was on movie setting so will perhaps publish it at a later date. Tomorrow, on to Ontario, California to see Jeff and Debbie–my much-appreciated but not often seen stepson and his wife.


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On the Road in Sonora

 Busy day today…ten hours of driving and many adventures, beginning with the night before, when we ate at a wonderful restaurant/patisserie called Panama’s in Mazatlan.  Unfortunately, they didn’t serve any alcohol and Blue, the friend I’m traveling with, was dying for a glass of white wine.
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Remember The TV show “House Party,” where Art Linkletter inspected purses from the audience members and gave prizes for certain objects if they were found in their purses?  I still pack a purse as though I expect to be picked in House Party!  So, I just happened to have had in my purse a flask given to me recently by my friend Dianne which I had stocked with a fine Anejo rum! Blue and I both ordered a pineapple-coconut blended smoothie and I spiked them with rum from the flask.  I had always wanted a flask, and I was feeling happy on both counts and then, as usual, overacted as Blue snapped a second picture with my camera.
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So, we had a wonderful meal and afterwards, went in search of boxes of wine–easier to pack and Blue isn’t terribly picky about her wine, other than the fact that she actually has it–every night!  So, we went to several stores that didn’t sell wine before finding one that did…a large store similar to Target, but remember, we are in Mexico.  We stood in a very long line and finally got to the checkout stand…only to be told by the clerk that they couldn’t sell wine after 8 p.m.!!  We couldn’t believe it.  We asked if this was a Mazatlan law and she said no, just a rule of this particular chain store.

So, we went to a 7-11 store. Blue asked if they had white wine and the clerk just motioned at the wall behind her that was covered with shelves of liquor bottles.  Blue asked again in Spanish if she had vino blanco and the girl, who was playing a video game on her phone, again just waved at the wall, where Blue could see they had only red wine.  Off we went to search out another 7-11 store.  Same story.  Only red wine!  So, we retreated back to our hotel.

The next morning, because we had a very long drive, we got on the road early, but when we passed another Ley’s store (the chain that wouldn’t sell us wine the night before.) I asked Blue if she wanted me to stop and she said yes, so I went in to get batteries and met her at the checkout.  She preceded me in line, blissfully holding her two boxes of wine…unbelievably, to be told by the clerk that they couldn’t sell her wine before 8 in the morning!!!!  By now it was getting surreal!!  Or, like a sort of south of the border Candid Camera.

We left the store, shaking our heads, unbelieving.  Blue has lived in Mexico for 19 years and I have lived here for 14 and neither of us has ever heard of this!  Nonetheless, we proceeded to drive northwards and eventually, we came to another town.  It was our good fortune to see another Ley’s store right off the Cuota road and since it was now an hour later, I exited, knowing Blue was anxious to buy her wine.  This time I remained in the car, sure that I’d soon see her emerging triumphant from the store.  She did in fact emerge–but not triumphant. She opened the car door empty-handed.  ????  I couldn’t imagine what had happened this time.  It turns out that once again, she had been told that they couldn’t sell her wine before 8 a.m.  It seems as though unbeknownst to us, we had passed into another time zone and once again, it was earlier than 8 a.m.!!!

Certainly by now we should have gotten a hint that some force in the universe did not want Blue to have her wine, but we share a certain stubborn streak and so several hours later when we passed yet another Ley’s store in yet another town several hundred miles north of our last stop, we stopped again and this time she emerged triumphant with two boxes in her shopping bag.  We drove on and when we arrived in San Carlos and got our room, she was looking forward to her first glass of wine of our trip.

As I set the luggage out for the attendant to carry up the stairs for us (no elevator), Blue called out that she had to go get the wine that she had forgotten to remove from the car!  Two men who were just unloading their car called out, “Oh yeah, can’t forget the wine!”  Of course, Blue had to tell them the story, at which point they said, “That’s a law all over Mexico.  It’s a church thing–you can’t sell alcohol between 8 pm and 8 am.  When we tried to tell them we’d lived in Mexico for many years and this wasn’t so in Jalisco, they were adamant.  So, we let the matter be.  Blue was anxious to have her long awaited first sip and there is no arguing with some people.

Unfortunately, the wine was warm, there was no ice machine in our hotel and the hotel restaurant was closed, so Blue trooped across the road and paid 20 pesos for a glass of ice, then returned to the room and ahhhhh poured her first glass of wine.

I can’t quite duplicate the sound that issued from her mouth when she poured the wine.  She was at the sink out of sight from  where I was lying on the bed, but it was not a pretty sound.  Nor was the wine a pretty sight when it emerged from the box a bright orange color.  Obviously, something had gone wrong in terms of the procedure for wine storage in that store.  Perhaps the demand was not that great for boxed wine or white wine or perhaps no one else had been able to manage to buy it within the prescribed hours, but clearly, this wine so hard won was not to be the prize hoped for.

Something there is that does not want Blue wined.  She poured the wine down the drain and we trooped across the road to a wonderful palapa restaurant perched on a rock high above the ocean and had an adventure not involving white wine but again involving pina coladas, a fall off a bar stool, brash gulls and a toothpick.  But that is a story for another post.

Tomorrow, we cross the border.  The next time you hear from me, we’ll be in Peoria, Arizona, and you’ll get another chapter of our drive northwards.  Yes, we’ll be stopping for wine as soon as we cross the border.  No, I won’t be drinking it, but I’ll still be packing my trusty flask.  Thanks, Dianne!!!

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