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Can we stay, por favor?

I get it now. Annie gets it too. We have to leave for Mexico City at dawn tomorrow, and we don’t want to. It’s easy to understand why people come here for a visit and never leave. It’s a gorgeous little town, everything is inexpensive, the Mexican people are accommodating and kind, the food is delicious and cheap, the gringos are very friendly and anxious for company, there are tons of lovely things to buy – silver, leather, tin, embroidered clothing, stunning stuff, hard to resist, though Annie and I have resisted pretty well, a few silver earrings notwithstanding. There are artists everywhere and lots going on musically and artistically – and of course, the climate is perfect. What’s not to love? Right now, we’re sitting in Jim’s garden surrounded by flowers, hummingbirds, birdsong and butterflies, it’s blissfully quiet, and we’re in heaven.

Though I was awakened at 5.45 a.m. yesterday by what I thought was a nail gun, but it was firecrackers, Jim said, that go off at all hours. Also yesterday, after a day of walking and exploring, Jim and Annie went off to high tea at Barbara’s, but I begged off and sat in the silence of the garden photographing butterflies, as you have seen. What spoiled the perfection was the dogs – not just countless dogs barking, but some howling, like wolves. One had such a mournful cry, it hurt to hear it, and I wondered how many are guard dogs, left outside and uncared for.

Now I’m sounding like my mother. “Oh that poor dog!”

And also – there is such a large very elderly population here. We have been discussing health issues a great deal when we run into Jim’s friends. We went to an art opening last night and talked about herniated discs. It would drive me crazy.

Anyway, Annie and I both feel uncomfortable, being the privileged oh so white gringos in this beautiful country – but ye gods, it’s wonderful to be here. I can only imagine what it must be like in February. Maybe I’ll just have to come and give it a try.



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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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