MeXscape

Christmas was quiet. Very quiet. We didn't hear even the usual shuffling and breakfast making noises from our neighbors until after 1:00 pm. Not a soul walked down our street, not a car drove by. The previous evening's celebrations didn't wind down until about 5:00 am, so I guess everyone was sleeping in.

Winter rolled into Mazatlan early this year and weather conditions deteriorated under a steady north wind that had daytime temperatures struggling to reach 19 degrees centigrade. For many, my self included, this was a serious cold snap that drove us into extra garb, with multiple layers for mornings and evenings. I have had on long pants for four days now and willingly seek comfort in the warmth of an evening barbecue. However, the newly arrived Canadians are finding the temperatures down right balmy and are cruising the Zone in shorts and tee shirts.

It’s the dog days of summer and even the dogs are relentlessly hounded by the heat and humidity while the days just seem to run together in a sweaty continuum of time. Depending upon the day and the location, the temperature’s hover around 90 degrees and moderate to about 84 at night; unless the wee hours are cooled by the rains. The humidity can be a tolerable 75% or shoot up to an oppressive 90% just before Mother Nature unleashes one of her tropical thunderstorms. These monsoon type storms will build huge thunderheads over the mountains throughout the day and then descend on Mazatlan and disgorge their moisture late in the afternoon or during the night. The lightning spawned by these tropical storms is very spectacular and will sometimes stretch across 120 degrees of horizon with thunderclaps lasting as long as 15 seconds. As the storms move down from the mountains, the increasing reverberations from the mighty peals of thunder will invariably set off every car alarm for miles. One huge bolt from above is enough to create a horrible electronic wailing that is ear splitting at street level. You would think that when this happens, people would turn off their alarm systems not simply reset them for the next thunderclap. However, this is Mazatlan where common sense is sometimes lost in the cultural shuffle.

Our stuff is here! OK, we actually got our stuff June 29, but I haven't posted until now because I've been digging through boxes like a kid on Christmas morning, tossing bubble wrap into the air as I try to discover what treasure each box holds.

It's 5 am. Its 5 am, and I'm awake. Its 5 am, and I am awake and upstairs and writing. We moved to paradise, the land of no schedules, no alarm clocks, and I'm up, alone, in the dark, writing. What's wrong with this picture? Its the bed. I hate it. Actually, we have two. I hate them both.