Whole New World
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It’s a Doggy Dog World
Dogs are everywhere in Mexico. I have been afraid of them all my life, but things are different here.
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El Camino
Here in my new city, when I want to go somewhere there is only one method: my own feet.
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Heart High
While far too much has transpired since last I wrote here, suffice to say that I am back in the sun-drenched land of Mexico, having moved (WITH CATS) now twice between countries. I am here to stay, at least until somewhere else beckons even more loudly. But what of this heart?
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Only the Lonely
I’m lonely as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore. I realized yesterday that I’ve been traumatized by the conditions of my new home. And I kept it inside and really had no one to talk about it with. I kept telling myself I would get used to it, that I committed to living here for a year and that I needed to make good on my commitment.
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Wild Winds & Cat Burglars
I moved into my long-term casita rental last Friday. I am getting used to it now, but when I got here several things surprised me, and not in a good way:
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Raindrops
This, this aliveness, is what I came here for. I have waited now for over a month to feel what I felt from these sensations.
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Here There Be Tygers**
It took a few weeks of living in Mexico to realize how scared I’ve been. It’s probably residual trauma left from being mugged the first 5 minutes I arrived the LAST time I was in Mexico, which resulted in a broken leg (and the addition of 15 unwelcome pounds), but I think it’s more than that.
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Brown Recluse
It’s been weeks now since the “stay at home” orders began. When they started in California I was in a mad rush to pack my earthly belongings, get my car repaired to pass the smog test so I could sell it, and then get across the border to Mexico before it closed. The orders followed in Mexico soon after I arrived.
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Landing Place
I thought you might like to read my complaints about my AirBnb, since this is my last night in it.
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Alone in the Time of Corona
There are doves everywhere, cooing their lovely dove-sounds. And other birds of unknown-to-me varieties, calling out to one another, letting the world know that yes, they exist, they are here, they are alive. My window this week faces a brick wall. I ask you, is that a metaphor? Someone nearby lets some light jazz drift out their open window. Everyone’s windows are open because it is 90 degrees here and there is no air conditioning. Someone else is singing, maybe it is singing or maybe he is simply talking. His inflections rise and fall. Sometimes he is saying a thing and sometimes he is asking a thing. I think I…