#340! That was my number at Parque Zeferino on Friday, March 19, 2021. Continue Reading…
After three months away from each other, my husband finally comes back to San Miguel today. My elbows are ready to knock against his as he will be in self-imposed quarantine for 10-14 days. We do that because it is the right thing for our community and ourselves. But it won’t be easy.
We are lucky we rent a big house, with three floors. Bedrooms on the first and third, so we can maintain a distance while still being near each other. There is going to be a lot of calling back and forth through the stairwell. We also have terraces big enough to be separate, still see each other, blow kisses.
I am ready to have my cheerleader and constructive critic back for my writing practice. At times, I can really put a hell of a lot of pressure on myself. Let that destructive self-talk get in my way.
But I am also applauding myself, and how I have handled being away from Glenn all this time. Continue Reading…
As we enter the new year, I thought I would reflect on the old, the horrible year of 2020. That, in retrospect, wasn’t too horrible for us.
We started it off in Merida. We had escaped the cold weather in San Miguel in November 2019 headed to the beaches and finished with hosting friends.
Glenn and I had a lot planned for the year, culminating in a six-month trip to South East Asia in September.
Little did we know what actually awaited us.. I should have had an inkling when I got as close to a manic episode as I had been since we moved to Mexico in April 2018. I was teetering on the edge, trying to stay away from tipping entirely. Maybe that was an unconscious prelude to what was to come. Continue Reading…
It is Christmas time and in this crazy, whacked-out year of 2020, many are thinking about their place in the world, their beliefs, and their god.
My parents raised me Catholic, I went to Sunday school, first communion, and confirmation. And then I stopped.
I have never been religious, but I have definitely felt connected to something bigger than I am. I kind of have to, being such a small part of everything. I have reigned in my Bipolar disorder and no longer feel I am the anointed one. But more often than not now, I feel a spiritual connection to that which surrounds me.
I have felt it in the great outdoors, in the cathedrals of Europe, at the Taj Mahal and the Pyramids of Giza, and settling in at the beach with a good book on a summer’s day. Continue Reading…
San Miguel is such an incredibly creative town. The lack of in-person social gatherings has tempered our spirits a bit, but many are still occupying our time with artistic endeavors.
For writers, the San Miguel Writers’ Conference is still offering amazing keynotes, literary events, and workshops.
Blogs are still being written. Books published and released. ZOOM meetings called to order.
In keeping with the need for outlets, and offer a group where San Miguel authors and writers can find each other and support, encourage, and network. I have started a Facebook Group – Writers Of San Miguel De Allende.
CRAMMED!! And Miserable.
That is what we were. Our Volaris Leon to Tijuana flight was almost full, mine returning to Leon from Oakland; not an empty seat anywhere.
We weren’t flying to California for pleasure. It was something Glenn had to do.
There was no social distancing, although we tried to create some space around us. They say flights should be safe. The filters used, I guess. But being at an airport or on a plane is just not what we should do right now.
In our minds, we believed we would be ok with flying. We were nervous, but circumstances required us to come to California. The reality was not something we prepared for. We had the masks and the face visor, the sanitizing gel, and the alcohol spray. Who cared if we looked ridiculous. When COVID started a friend of ours flew in a hazmat suit. Looking back, that isn’t a bad idea. Continue Reading…