Rest in peace, old friend

Lee (Assertive Lee, by Jay O'Lee out of Miss Whistle Stop) was born at the Sherman farm in San Marcos the spring of 1980. Dave and I married that August.

Thirty two and a half years ago.

A lot has happened during this one horse's lifetime.

Lee was what horsey people call "a spirited ride" -- he preferred to prance and jog to walking, which could just about jiggle your breakfast free and your teeth loose. But he really seemed to enjoy rides in the forest and fields. Many horses are "barn sour" -- as soon as you turn toward home, they speed up and fight to run pell mell into the barn. Lee actually slowed to a walk on our way home. He had the most amazing floating trot, seeming to suspend in air like a calliope horse.

Once, when Sara was having a particularly horrid teenage day, Lee was the tonic... "Hey Sara, wanna go for a ride?" nah, ma, not today. "You can ride Lee." Oh? Really? Sure!  ~It was the first time I'd let her ride Lee, and I think it must have felt like she was 10 feet above the ground. Lee was 16+ hands tall, and her normal mount, an Arabian, was maybe 15 hands (1 hand = 4 inches).  Anyway, Lee made the day much less horrid. That's a gift.

We referred to him as our PuppyHorse. He came when called, followed me around without halter or lead, liked to stand with his head on my shoulder. His favorite trick was to get a big mouthful of water and let it dribble down Jerry's back. Can horses smile? Yes.

I can still feel his head on my shoulder and his breath on my cheek.

I am learning...

I am learning many things about myself, about my own country, and of course about Mexico. Our itinerary has allowed us to see several very different cities, each with unique 'souls' - if cities can have souls.

Our first stop was Guadalajara, a large, sprawling megopolis reminiscent of Los Angeles. We enjoyed our stay there, but have since moved it to the bottom of our Favorite Places in Mexico list. The historical/cultural center is very pretty, with a sub-text of bustling street venders. The sounds are an almost constant buzz of cars harmonized with honking horns.

Living a bit outside of the Eugene city limits, and especially living in Oregon, I had forgotten that other places use their car horns. In Guadalajara, the horns were rarely an angry sound; it was more like the cars were talking with each other, keeping themselves safe and the whole flow moving.

The streets were pretty crowded and somewhat dirty, but shopkeepers seemed intent on doing battle with road grime, and could be seen sweeping and washing the sidewalks in front of their shops at all hours of the day. I was somewhat amazed by the amount of graffiti on the walls.

From there, we went to Guanajuato, a town about the same population as Eugene, but designed more like an old world villa (and is in fact, a very old town). Guanajuato is built into the hillsides of several ravines / canyons. The streets are steep, and wind up and around and back again. I think I would enjoy spending about 3 months there, but really think Sara would enjoy it even more; it is a town for young people.

The University of Guanajuato is home to 20,000 students, and the streets come alive around 8:00 with street musicians and performers, food venders and merchants. Outdoor cafes are everywhere.

From Guanajuato we travelled to San Miguel de Allende. There seem to be two San Miguel de Allendes - one for gringos and one for locals. We stayed at an airBnB offering that was fabulous and inexpensive - a lovely room and private bathroom with our own terrace above her house and boutique, owned by an expat New York Jew who had been there for 14 years. Jerry asked how she ended up in San Miguel de Allende, and her short answer was: "I got drunk and bought a shop."I think that should be a bumper sticker.

Since she'd been there 14 years, we wondered if we could practice our Spanish with her. Well, no, she didn't speak Spanish. But she had recently started taking Spanish classes. The unusual part of that is not that she couldn't speak Spanish after 14 years in Mexico -- the unusual part is that she was taking Spanish classes.

We found there to be a large population of American expats in SMA, who have created a mini American town in the midst of an incredibly interesting and vibrant old Mexico ciudad. The Americans don't speak Spanish, don't eat at the local restaurants, don't buy local goods, wear American style clothes, etc etc etc. Though the town is lovely, and I would enjoy the local side of life, I think the clash between the cultures would frustrate me. Not really a clash... More of a snubbing. San Miguel de Allende is on my list to visit again, but I don't think it makes my list of places I might live.

Next we travelled to Morelia. We arrived Thursday and stayed at an airBnB room until we moved in with our host family on Sunday, prior to starting our second week of language classes. The airBnB spot was amazing... A "cabin" space built above a home by our host (and home owner and engineer), the cabin had a kitchen, private bath and bedroom, and felt very much like Jerry's cabin. It even had the ladder access through a hole in the floor (but also had a door to close over the floor...).

Our host, Nacho, met us Thursday night and chatted with us for about an hour, and left us in the very capable and gracious care of his friend, Margarita; he left early Friday to go to the beach for the weekend with his sister. We'll meet up with him again Thursday night for a beer, and will probably stay with him again early next week.

Morelia is a fabulous city. Large and clean and old, with several museums, ancient catholic churches and convents, and two colleges built in the mid-1500s (one still a public college, the other a library filled with ancient books). There are many turistos, but few gringos. The local people are friendly and patient with my broken Spanish. I could live here.

Now we are in Patzcuaro. A beautiful Pueblo 40 miles from Morelia, it has an old-world charm. Cobblestone streets, white-washed stone buildings, tile roofs, the town feels like a postcard of old Italy. We only can spend two days here, and will need to come back. Patcuaro is the ideal central location to explore many neighboring pueblos and ancient ruins. I could REALLY live here.

Tonight we return to Morelia, and I'll catch a bus early tomorrow to Guadalajara, and then fly home. On July 5th, a month seemed almost too long. Today, I realize it wasn't nearly long enough

Differences...

A few random observations:

1) We've noticed that there are very few obese people in the towns we've visited. Possibly the diet is more healthy than the typical American diet. But I think it is probably because the bathroom stalls in public places are tiny... If you weigh more than about 180 pounds, you won't fit.

2) The plumbing in Mexico is much like the plumbing at my Eugene house -- it can't handle lots of paper. Translation: you aren't supposed to put ANY paper in the toilets. None. All toilets have a little trash can next to them, and your toilet paper goes in the trash can. That's a hard habit to break...A query: if you have to put the paper in the rubbish can anyway, couldn't we please have thicker, softer paper?

3) The water from the taps is not for consumption. This includes rinsing your toothbrush in the tap water. Another hard habit to break, but if you forget and get sick, you are more likely to remember... I forgot and didn't get sick. Jerry didn't and did.

4) The sidewalks are barely wide enough for two, but somehow accommodate four abreast, another reason Mexicans are thin...

Me gusta de viejes en Mexico...

Y Jerry, tambien...

We've been here a week, and I have a few photos to share (with commentary). However, I haven't been able to figure out how to get the photos on to this site. I can get them from the iPhone to the iPad easily enough but havent had the hour or so of uninterrupted time I'll need to puzzle out the next steps. So, for now, I'll upload them to google+, as albums. If you are a member of google+, I'll add you to my circle so you can see the photos. Otherwise, I may have to wait until I return before I can link the photos to the blog.

First, we took a late flight out of Portland on the Fourth; I had hopes of seeing fireworks below me as we flew into San Fransisco. Alas, we were about 45 minutes too early. I DID get some great shots of the fog pouring over the hills.

Customs in Mexico was fast and easy, though we were asked to throw away the largish bag of broccoli I had brought for snacking. Jerry was not sad to lose the broccoli.

We stayed for three days in a lovely room I had found on AirBnB. The room was on Calle Donato Gurrera, a short 10 minute walk to the cultural center of Guadalajara, with legislative, justice, and executive branches of the State of Jalisco, as well as ancient cathedrals, the ballet and philharmonic halls, museums, and the Mercado (a 2 mile long plaza filled with merchants and venders and street performers).

On Sunday, we moved from our room on Donato Gurrera to the home of our host family, on the west side of town in Zona Rosa. Señor and Señora Cassilas and their 20-something son Luis Enrique were most gracious and lovely. Luis Enrique spoke English quite well, which helped Jerry and me the first few days, when our own Spanish skills were pretty terrible.

After a few days of classes, plus our earlier self-study, and we were able to communicate -sort of- with señora Casillas. Señora Casillas traveled with us the first day to school, so we would know where the bus stops were, etc. It turned out that the school was just about 4 blocks from our first airBnB room.

On Wednesday, our Spanish class joined a group of Tapatios (people from Guadalajara) who were studying English, and we toured the downtown cultural center. I was paired with two lovely young ladies (16 and 18)... They practiced their English and I practiced my Spanish. Their English was MUCH better than my Spanish, but they were very kind.

When not in class, Jerry and I explored the area around our host family's casa. Our airBnB room was in a part of town where the streets are narrow, and every home greets passers-by with a solid wall. Most walls had graffiti. My first assumption was that we were in a very poor part of town.

Until I was able to peek into an open gate. Behind the stark walls are little gardens, homes with atriums, tiled patios, and well maintained homes. In Zona Rosa, where the Casillas family live, the gardens were larger, the walls less foreboding, and most Homes had a little green space between their wall and the sidewalk.

More later...

By The Way...

Last August, I set four goals for myself:


1. Post blog updates more regularly
2. Meditate daily
3. Exercise daily
4. Travel away from home and computer at least once a month (work-related travel doesn't count) 

I am proud to say that I have been 3 for 4 pretty regularly for the last four months, though I'm not really "exercising daily" --- more like 2 to 3 times a week, unless you count changing the linens on beds exercise. I do. And I've been doing that A LOT lately. 

And, truthfully, I'm not really meditating daily yet either. No excuses.

But I'll start now... (well, after I spell check and post this entry).

Pardon, Señor

...  hablas Inglés?


I'm studying my language tapes, trying to recall my Middle School Spanish classes, and the semester of LBL Community College Spanish I took with my friend Susan and her very smart 11-year-old... It's rusty, but I hope to return from a month in Mexico with a much larger vocabulary, where I won't need to ask, "Excuse me, do you speak English?"


I am ÜBER excited (I remember a lot more of my German; maybe I can find a German tourist in Guadalajara)... 
Here's The Plan:


1. We (Jerry and I) fly into Guadalajara on July 5, using the last few dollars of our United Airlines Funny Money, earned by allowing ourselves to be bumped several times returning from DC in the summer of 2010. I had to make the reservations by phone (because of the Funny Money), and asked the very patient man to book whatever flight would put me over a major city around 9:00 PM on July 4. I have always wanted to be in the air and watch the fireworks from above. Fingers crossed, it won't be completely clouded over.

2. Wander the city for three days (oh, that reminds me, I'll need to book a room -- probably through AirBnB.com *). Then on Sunday, we'll move into a host family's spare room for the next 7 days. Monday through Friday we'll be in Language Class from 9:00 to 1:00, then have the afternoon for a siesta and wandering.

3. That next Saturday (July 14), we'll start wandering toward Morelia, a city in South central Mexico, in the mountains. NOT in Mexico City (I'd like to keep my head on my shoulders). We'll get ideas from folks in the class, our host family, the local coffee shop. And practice our Spanish.

4. On or around July 23, we'll end up in Morelia, to Host Family Numero Dos, and a second week-long Language class. That will end on the 27th. I'll need to figure out how and when to return home - we only have one-way tickets right now, leaving the return trip a bit open. We may visit the Pacific Coastline, or maybe stay in the mountains. I'll return sometime between the 27th and August 4. Sidney and I have a grant we'd like to submit August 5, so I may be home closer to the 30th than the 4th.

 * Booking rooms through AirBnB... I earned a TON of money these last two weeks, hosting folks who were in Eugene for the graduation or the Olympic Track & Field Trials. For several nights, all 4 rooms were full AND a lovely pair of young ladies on a Road Trip even rented my Gazebo Bed for four nights. Currently, one of the Ladies Heptathalon athletes is staying in my Master Bedroom. She competes tomorrow and Saturday. Root for Bettie Wade... Last week, Vicki Dull, mom of David Verburg, stayed in the Master Bedroom. David was a finalist in the Men's 400 at the Trials.

Yard. Work.

Why is Memorial Day also the National Gardening Day? (or for that matter, the day all mattress stores put their goods on sale?)

I started a week early. Well, actually a year and a half early... I killed my small backyard lawn in Fall of 2010.

My First Rule of Gardening: Kill the Lawn.

I was once told by a Master Gardener that Nature abhors a mono-culture. Lawns are a monoculture. Well kept lawns, though beautiful, are time and money and chemical intensive chores... First you flatten the ground. Add nutrients and top soil, grass seed, keep everyone off the newly planted area while the seed grows. When you finally have a lawn, you must water and fertilize and mow, then water and fertilize some more so you can mow again. Repeat.

And add weed-killing chemicals in between.

So I killed the lawn. Then waited to see where the dogs would carve out a path.

My Second Rule of Gardening: Plan the Garden Around the Dog Path.

So last week, I got out the rototiller to till up the space for the new flagstone walkway (exactly OVER the dog path).

And discovered that the previous homeowners had watched the same Home & Garden network that I've watched, and added SOD to give the yard more "Curb Appeal." And it was beautiful, though I knew when I bought the house that I would eventually invoke the First Rule of Gardening.

A 50 Pound Feed Bag FILLED
with Sod Mesh

Well, the rototilling has helped me add a Corollary to the First Rule: Sod is Evil.

Sod, apparently, comes in rolls like carpet. A fine green nylon mesh holds the sod and roots and dirt together during transport. I guess I thought the mesh was removed when the sod laid, but apparently not. When I moved in and saw the mesh, I assumed the mesh I could see would decompose over a few years, but apparently not.

So, to all my Word Nerd friends, here's an etymological puzzle: Which came first, the use of horrid mesh in laying sod or the use of SOD IT! as a British expletive? Or perhaps Sod (the grass) was named for SOD (the expletive)?

Rototilling that 50 X 3 foot path took ALL DAY. Actually, the Rototilling part was a small portion of the day. The rest of the day was taken up in multiple opportunities to dismantle the rototiller and remove the Sodding mesh...

At any rate, late Monday and the garden is beginning to take shape. Some plants added, lots of seed planted (creeping thyme between the stones, a variety of wildflowers between the path and the house).  Still to come are the seeds for the space to the west of the stones. And of course, I need to expand the drip irrigation.

I know it looks like a lot of dirt, but ... well, like gardeners everywhere, I see peace and possibilities.

My Third Rule of Gardening: Gardens Should be Everchanging.

Because Life is.

b'Shalom, Hank Bersani

The secret to happiness is to do the things you love, and maybe find someone to pay you for it.

My friend, Hank Bersani, had truly mastered that secret.

Hank passed away last week. 'though I am deeply saddened by this, I find myself remembering odd bits of past events with Hank, and laughing out loud. Somehow, that feels like a prayer -- laughing.

Winter Update

Yeah, yeah, I know. I was going to write at least one entry per month.

And meditate every day. Which I have done almost every day.

And something else.

But it's Winter in the Pacific Northwest. Short days, long nights, lots of rain (and some snow!). Kinda cold. Everything sort of slows down. Including me.

Sara and I did take an eight day road trip in the middle of December... just the girl and me, four dogs and a bunny. We traveled with the travel-trailer that Jerry built on my 10' X 6' utility trailer (potty, almost-queen size bed, wood burning stove), and had enough friends along the way that we could shower and sleep in real (stationary) beds 2 or 3 nights. The trip involved a 24 hour marathon-drive-all-night start so we could get to Long Beach in time to show the Irish Wolfhounds, then a Bar Mitzvah and Party the next day, four or five different dog parks and 3 different Dog Beaches, family, friends, and lots of time to talk and hang together. I may have enjoyed it more than Sara, but I have greater stamina for sitting on my ass than she does.

And on March 3 and 4, Sara, Jake, and I traveled to Ashland to watch the Oregon Shakespeare Festival "Midnight Productions" stage a reading of Jake's play. Fabulous actors, interesting directing, and a real great "talk back" between the actors, the director, some Festival community members, and Jake.

I'll keep it to that brief description. Really out of respect to you... who wants to read a middle-aged mother proudly going on and on about her amazingly talented son?

So, what else? I've entered another poem in a competition, and will get to have it published in an anthology. That makes two poems, same anthology, different volumes. I think that is pretty cool. I'm currently learning the skills necessary to make one of my poems into a children's book -- instead of "greeting cards" think "greeting book"... My brother, Marshall (the graphic artist), is my coach.

Sidney and I are feeling like the COAST autism tool is actually going to be published at some point in our lifetimes. We are working with a local company, Iris Media, in writing a small start-up research grant that we will then parlay into a much larger, four-year grant. I'm looking to give up my UO job after June 15, 2013, and would be very happy if I had lots of work (and a little income) in researching the COAST.

Let's see... Other possibilities in the "Hmmm, what will I be when I grow up?" bucket? I took the LSAT on February 11. Got a score I expected (embarassingly low) and decided I'd try it again -- but actually prepare for it the next time. But, apparently my score wasn't as embarrassing as I thought, because I've received two emails this week asking me to apply to different law schools. One even offered some pretty good scholarships.

Still, I'd like to see what score I can get after studying.

Will I go to Law School? Possibly.

The other thing that has me intrigued lately is the possibility of being a school administrator in an Arab country (Abu Dhabi and Qatar are recruiting heavily from the UO) or Argentina. Lots more money, all tax free, housing provided, a three year contract. And I could be a car ride away from other countries... With lots of time off to explore.

See, the things that bubble around in my old brain when I meditate? I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be thinking. I'll go meditate on that and get back to you..