We took an afternoon off from our writing retreat to stroll the Puerto Vallarta malecón and for some shopping, photo snapping and dinner out. Here are a few flashes of our afternoon.
(This is a series I’d advise enlarging by clicking on the first photo.)
While I was last in the states, Morrie’s Uncle Ian taught him a new game. He also encouraged him to become a Scottish Seal. The game is, that Morrie drops a tennis ball into the pool, or better yet, jumps up on a high planter and launches the ball at you so you have to swim to get it. Next, the lucky swimmer gets to launch the ball up over the pool wall into the garden far below. In a split second, Morrie has retrieved the ball, jumps up on his planter perch, chews on it a bit and then, oops–loses his purchase and the ball goes shooting down into the pool again. If perchance you want to finish your repetition of one exercise before retrieving the ball for him, into the pool he jumps, retrieves the ball and swims to the other end where I have had a set of steps built just in case he falls in. In one year, he has gone from barely making it to the edge before sinking to being some combination of a Navy Seal and an actual one. In a one-hour session in the pool a few weeks ago, I saw him jump in 11 times. Neither of the other dogs would venture into the water for a T-bone steak. Morrie will go to any length to retrieve a ball.
No Nonsense
Although its paint is in abatement,
and it makes no major statement—
though it has no style or clout,
it still lets you in and out.
Back when I lived in a place where flowers didn’t bloom year round, I always felt that my succulents were a flower of sorts. This jade plant blooms like a flower rising above the falling foliage of its pot companion.
https://ceenphotography.com/2016/11/16/flower-of-the-day-november-17-2016-daffodils/
jdbphoto
Recognition
Filthy little urchin, dirty little boy—
who could tell from looking that you’d be such a joy?
We never would have chosen you by following our nose,
but when we scraped the dirt off and laundered all your clothes,
we recognized you as our own, devoid of dirt and grime,
and now that you are family and with us all the time,
mud puddles still attract you. Dirt piles call your name.
But now it doesn’t matter. We love you all the same.
At least setup day at the Maestros Del Arte Feria was, although cool and overcast, rain-free. Then the rains hit. And the overcast. Luckily, little wind. In spite of it, sales seemed to be at an all-time high. The booth I coordinated was the booth where each participant gave one piece for us to sell to aid in putting on next year’s fair. Other than that, there is no cost for any of the artisans juried into the show, who come from all over Mexico. Their transportation, shipping, rooms and meals are all paid for by the Feria. We print them business cards as well.
For many of the artisans, this show forms nearly one hundred percent of their yearly salary and is the reason they can continue to practice their traditional crafts and art rather than finding other jobs. One woman, after her first show, said that she had made more at this one three-day show than she had ever expected to make in her lifetime. So, it is a wonderful affair and even in the rain and cold, spirits were high, people continued to pour into the fair site to buy buy buy and everyone seemed in the height of spirits.
The booth I ran sold every piece for the first time in feria history and we also broke all sales records with a booming 106,000 pesos in sales! Yes. We were happy. Yes, by closing time on the fourth day, I was exhausted, wet, muddy and sore. Drove home, fed the doggies and fell into bed at 7 p.m. I’m becoming an early bird these days. More photos to follow.
I’ve been working sunup to late afternoon for the last four days setting up and running a booth that sells the wares of all of the participants of our wonderful Maestros del Arte show in Chapala. The last two days were rainy and cold which necessitated two revampings of the booth and moving of all the goods. The rain kept coming and the mud puddles got deeper. I was running from booth to booth and then back to ours and came home exhausted every night. Tonight, therefore, I got home at 5, fed the dogs, warmed up a few leftovers, washed off my muddy feet and fell into bed. It was freezing cold in my house with no central heating, so I set a little space heater on my night table and took turns warming my four sides of my body, fetched a heating pad to warm my hands, and socks to warm my feet. I fell asleep at 7 p.m. and woke up at 11 p.m.
Still, still night. Went out to see the Super Moon, but it was too overcast to reveal even a glow to suggest where it might be. Then the gloom opened up for a few seconds and I ran in to get my camera, but by the time I located it, the sky had closed its window again. Read a few blogs, including Murdo Girl’s which had a video I turned on. In it her three dogs were barking and barking. Immediately, Morrie and Diego, who had been sleeping peacefully in the doggie domain, went rushing out into the night to bark back at them outside the sliding glass door to my bedroom. Then all the neighborhood dogs began to bark back. I brought my dogs in with the promise of a dog biscuit, locked them in their cages, and they are calm once again, but sixteen minutes later, the neighbor’s dog is still going crazy. The dangers of blogging.
