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..

life and dogs and death... and life

There are many yardsticks by which I measure my life...

When I was young, the yardstick was the grade I was in.
Then it was before marriage and marriage (and eventually after marriage).
Then I measured the passing of time by the events starring Jake and Sara.
By my ever-changing jobs.
By my dress-size.

Today, I realized another, and much more constant yardstick -- I can tie my life's events to the dogs I've owned, from Gretchen, the dachshund of my childhood, through Heidi and Barni, to Kato my Akita (and the first dog that was completely and only mine), to baby Nene, the puppy Akita that came with us to Hawai'i, and on through many Jack Russells, a few adopted / foster dogs, to my current menagerie.

Today, Jake's dog Draco passed. I buried him in the pet cemetery of my Eugene farm, joining three of my brother's pets and Sara's Isabella. And I realize that Draco's passing is a huge and meaningful milestone.

We moved to Oregon from Hawai'i on Christmas Day 1996, with Sara's gimongous hound dog O'uli, and Jake's Dingo. Dingo went missing within the first week. As is our custom, when your dog disappears or dies, you get to choose a new dog. In mid-February of 1997, we took Jake to the Willamette Humane Society to choose a replacement pup (Dingo had also been a pound-puppy). Jake had studied up on puppy temperament testing (Jake was 9) and was ready to choose a new dog. At the pound that day were a litter of six or seven lab cross puppies, about 6 weeks old. Jake took his time, testing each carefully before choosing the dog that passed all his tests.

Sadly, that pup had already been reserved, and had someone else on the wait list in case the first person backed out. Jake wanted to be added to the wait list rather than take the second best puppy home that day. That decision really frames Jake's outlook on life for me: Don't settle. And believe that if it is right, it will happen.

The pound lady tried to explain to Jake that being third on the list meant that his chances of getting that particular puppy were none to none. Jake smiled and asked her to add his name to the list anyway.

We went home, without a puppy. A short time later (days, maybe a week, I forget) and the pound called to tell Jake that the first two folks had backed out, and the puppy was his if he still wanted him. And so Draco came home to live with us.

Each of us has a Draco story that speaks to his courage, his good humor, his competitive nature, his skill as a puppy babysitter, and his gentleness and trust in us. He was an amazing spirit. He passed peacefully after nearly 15 years of adventures.

Draco is gone. Jake is 24. Life goes on. Measured by the dogs in my yard...