What color is your roof?

In Conil, near Cadiz, Spain, you can paint your roof any color you like, as long as it's white
"Studies show that white roofs reduce air-conditioning costs by 20 percent or more in hot, sunny weather. Lower energy consumption also means fewer of the carbon dioxide emissions that contribute to global warming."
New York Times

Photography Exhibition and Sale at Vane's



We will be holding our fourth Photography Exhibition and Sale hosted by my lovely niece Vanesa Romero. There's always high hopes and good expectations when we do this exhibitions that some frames will find a home in some body's wall, but even if they don't we still get the chance to get together as a family and have a great time.

Do wish us luck as we know money is tight and everyone is holding on to it like dear life, but still so far we have made a few sales and so far they have all been profitable. I continue to learn and to explore different ways to market our frames. Sooner or later we'll come out of this bad economy and customers will come knocking for some cool original photographic art... OK, that is just some wishful thinking, but hey there's nothing wrong with that.

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¡No hay agua!

Installing our new tinaco this year — we didn't put it on the roof, unsure whether the roof could bear the weight, so we have no gravity feed and have to rely on an electric pump. Which isn't working anymore.

Between living on a boat and living in a house in Mexico, we've had plenty of experience running out of water. You'd think by now we'd have a better system for dealing with it. Murphy's Law dictates it's always going to happen at an inopportune time – but when is a good time, anyway, maybe from midnight to 4am? More likely it's when you're standing under the shower with a headful of shampoo suds, or at the kitchen sink about to wash up after the biggest meal of the day. Or when a dog comes in after rolling in the mud. Or the Capt has been making automotive repairs.

The water shut off last night, and is still off this morning. When we first moved here the local water company would post alerts on the Viva San Carlos Forum each time there were stoppages, but now it's anybody's guess.

We're a little better prepared today. We brought two five-gallon jugs from the boat, which we keep filled with washup water, and when the faucets run dry we fill plastic dishpans in the bathroom and kitchen, with smaller bowls to scoop out water for handwashing. No shampoos for us or the dogs, no major dishwashing or mopping, but at least we can have clean hands. And if we're pining for a shower, we can walk down to the hotel for a shower and a swim.

We have a full tinaco but its pump has burned out, so the only way we'll access that water now is by scooping it out with a dipper. Two things we can always count on: if a pump or a battery is involved, it will burn out. They can put a man on the moon, but they still can't come up with a reliable water pump or battery.

Our friend Mark, who has rented a casita in a Mexican neighborhood in nearby Guaymas while he's making boat repairs at the marina, said his water ran out a few days ago, and when he mentioned it to his neighbors, they said Guaymas only supplies water to its residents two days a week. Everyone's tinaco fills up when there's water, and then they get by with the stored water until the next refill day. They told him (not bothering to hide their resentment) that no such rationing is done in San Carlos because of all the gringos who live here. Of course, much of the problem with the Guaymas water system is due to broken pipes; it's not uncommon to drive through a flooded street when it hasn't rained for months.

We live in the desert, and rainfall is really pretty much limited to a few days a year and yet developers keep planning building condos and housing complexes here. What are they thinking?

Last week Shoestring Gringa had the same problem, when their water ran out, on Laundry Day. Hope your faucets are running again, amiga. And I hope you get yourself a tinaco soon.

UPDATE: I told the Capt if he was able to get the pump working, the water company would turn on the water again. Murphy's Law in reverse, being its usual contrary self. And that's exactly what happened. Ya hay agua!

Last year about this time we had a couple of gullywashing rainstorms. Wouldn't mind having one right now… I'd put on my bathing suit, grab the dogs, and we'd all go out and have a shower!

Both


It takes two, to tango
Or so the saying goes
But to really make it work
The tango needs the best from both

Dancing, life, and other things
Need your commitment and love
Synchronize your every move
And fuse until both are one

Then together plan your future
And together, feed your soul
Let the thoughts the two of you garnish
Born, mature, and then grow old

There's a certain satisfaction
That comes from from seeing what both
Created in such togetherness
And in knowing you are not alone

Life is hard. It's just it's nature
But not unconquerable at all
By oneself it could be impossible
But with both not so much so.

So tell her that "You complete me"
Tell him "You had me at hello"
Yes these words come from a movie
Does it matter where they're from?

So build what you can, and do it together
Limit yourself, know where to go
Then enjoy and share those those memories
That can only come from both.

If I sound like a romantic
Know that it's not me alone
With the love mi chica gives me
It's the work in progress of both


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Kata Robata

While Houston lacks not in sushi joints, it does suffer from a dearth of high-end Japanese restaurants. Thankfully Kata Robata has stepped in, offering its breathtaking Asian dishes in the revolving door of a restaurant space at the corner of Richmond and Kirby.

The chefs at Kata Robata play with flavors and textures to create a deliciously outstanding set of dishes that’s as appealing to the eyes as it is to the belly. Case in point: The uni and king crab spoons with black caviar have become the menu’s most popular offering, and with good reason. In a gorgeous presentation, tender and fresh crab lightly topped with the butteriest of uni marinates in a tangy sunomono broth. The caviar adds a savory bite, making the entire spoonful an Excalibur of a combination. Hot damn!


Anyone shocked that the foie gras is good? Didn’t think so. Sittin’ pretty atop a daikon radish, the velvety foie has an unexpected smokiness to it, and the juxtaposition of textures is incredible. Lobster ceviche is yet another excellent starter; the mango sauce brings out the sweetness of the lobster, avocado adds to the creamy texture, and a sprinkle of red onion adds the right amount of crunch.


Nigiri shines with complex flavors hidden in a simple shell. Glory goes, not only to the exceedingly fresh fish, but also to the impeccably cooked rice. Meatily-rich toro, soy-marinated tuna, hamachi with mint, Sweet shrimp with uni... each better, prettier, and more enticing than the last.


The regular menu at Kata Robata is, hands down, the most creatively diverse Japanese menu in town. But for a real treat, sit at the bar (weeknights only) and order your meal omakase. After setting a course load or price, the chef will choose what you eat, based on the best and freshest ingredients he has available.

In its short history, Kata Robata has already found a place among the top restaurants in the city. Go for a date, go for a splurge, go for a wonderfully delicious, custom-tailored symphony of a Japanese experience from some of the best sushi chefs around. Just go.

Kata Robata - 3600 Kirby (at Richmond)

Diego's Idea...


Diego's idea, I may put a patent on it.

Diego: Where are you going grandpa?
Me: Out
Diego: Can I come?
Me: Sure!
Diego: Grandpa it's hot.
Me: You better don't complain, you could have stayed home where it's nice and cool.
Diego: I'm not complaining, it's just that it's too hot.
Me: We'll stop and get something to drink.
Diego: Wouldn't it be awesome to put AC in the weather.
Me: Wow! Now there's an idea.
Diego: Yeah! If we put AC in the weather we can lower it when it gets too hot.

Now, there is a mind that is already working at age six.


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Got 18 minutes? Meet Liz.

A lovely coincidence: I finished reading Elizabeth Gilbert's immensely successful memoir, "Eat. Pray. Love." and my online singing coach Chrys Page posted a video of Liz giving an 18-minute talk for TED Talks. Well, thanks, Ted, whoever you are. Liz is on my short list of writing mentors and I was thrilled to have a chance to hear her talk about her work. Beyond being inspiring, she has a wicked sense of humor.

My post about Liz's book received comments from some people who had read it and, like me, were deeply affected by it. This is for them. If you don't have 18 minutes, or hate vids, or have no interest in the concept of creativity as a gift from God (or the Higher Power of your understanding), just pass on by.

Find more videos like this on Sing Your Life!

A man and his tools

There are plenty of cracks and creaks and exposed wires and such in this 50-plus-year-old Mexican house. Some will be ignored, others dealt with eventually. With two Westie motors sitting out in the carport waiting to be assembled into one usable unit, and the Green Flash waiting for its transformation in the workyard, the Capt still finds free moments to tackle "honey-do" projects around the house, a day at a time. A big improvement was a ceiling fan in the living room over the sofas, which we have set on high spin to maximize the AC's cooling power. He had to cannibalize an old light fixture for its base and deal with a spaghetti factory of Mexican wiring to get it installed. And he set up a small AC unit in the kitchen window to make cooking and dishwashing more comfortable.

This morning he applied what I call a "Mexican fix" to the problem of the back door's inability to quite meet the frame, leaving a crack big enough to see daylight when the door's closed—a crack big enough to admit cucarachas and other unwelcome creatures. The Capt applied one of his favorite new materials, foam from a can, which when it hardens can be filed and sanded down. In a true Mexican fix, of course, the filing and sanding step would probably be skipped.

I burned rice in my favorite stainless pot when I ran to answer the phone and got into a discussion with a new customer. I scrubbed it for about 15 minutes and might have gotten it clean with another 15 minutes of elbow grease, but he took it outside, used a drill with a brass wire brush attached, and brought it back gleaming like new in the wink of an eye.

Two friends surprised and delighted us this week by showing up unannounced at our door. Garth, our favorite fisherman rang the bell and immediately demanded to know, did we want scallops or fish? I'm not an afishionado, being pretty much all vegetarian now, but when he mentioned dorado I caved. He gave us enough for two meals, and we so enjoyed it, I've decided we're going to have fish at least now and then. The Capt made tacos with it, and the next day I dredged the rest of it in cracker crumbs and fried it in peanut oil. It's probably my South Texas genes; now and then I crave fried seafood. Even ordered a beautiful antique (1925-30) cast-iron pan with lid from my antique dealer friend Sue, which I'll pick up when we go to Arizona next week, having given up on Teflon.

Sue sent me this photo of the antique cast iron pan I'm buying… It's a 1925-30 Wagner, the lid a "marriage" with no label but ni modo! it fits fine and is designed to recycle moisture back into the pan.

The other surprise was our friend Mark from Canada, who is down here having his diesel overhauled. Having just bought his boat two years ago, I imagine he's somewhat disappointed to be facing such a huge repair already, but he's in good spirits. He's coming over for lunch today and we'll get to hear more about his adventures this year… he did the Baja Bash with his brother back up the Pacific Coast to San Diego which is not a trip for the faint of heart.

Our primitive but functional recording tools: a keyboard provides tempos, the Looper (that narrow doodad on the floor) records the tempo, bass and rhythm guitar tracks, the amp (black box) amplifies voice and the instruments, and Mac laptop uses GarageBand to record and remix it all. That's the Capt's foot keeping time.

This week we have also begun recording, which I can only describe as a somewhat painful but necessary process. I learn so much about my vocal flaws when I listen to myself. Ouch! I do one song fairly satisfactorily, and then blow it in the last few notes. But perseverance furthers, so we'll keep at it until we get something we can bear to hear.

And now I should start warming up; we're going to try "Round Midnight" today.

Huynh for President!

Good news, team -- I found my new favorite Vietnamese spot in the whole entire mother-freakin’ world! Relatively speaking, of course. It’s Huynh, a remarkable lil’ place brightening up a strip center on St. Emanuel, caddy corner to Warehouse Live. As you enter, don’t let the modern decor fool you into thinking it’s a poser. Quite the contrary, my friends. Huynh is as authentic as it gets, and full-on fantastic.

As is often the case, I was shamelessly enamored of the appetizers. The crispy summer rolls wrapped in lettuce are a dream. And the duck salad, too, is to die for: pieces of tender duck atop a bed of shredded lettuce, shrouded with a thin, tangy sauce. But the real highlight is the dish #5... Slick little spring rolls that slip-slide down with the greatest of ease, a fascinating study in the interleague play of various textures. Inside you’ll find crispy chargrilled pork paired with a flavorific combination of mint, cilantro, and lettuce, all wrapped loosely in thick, chewy noodles.


The Bun Bo Hue, a vermicelli soup with pork, beef, and lemongrass, is decent -- be sure that it arrives warm enough. Sautéed tofu in a sweet-chili sauce was yet another highlight, as was the tender chargrilled beef sittin’ pretty on a lettuce throne.


Dish after dish after dish, I fell more and more in love with the simple preparations and clean flavors. Who’s a happy little eater?! This girl!

Huynh - 912 St. Emanuel

Top Eight

It doesn't matter who leaves tomorrow I am still going to hate it. No, not the show, but the fact that two of these very talented dancers will be going home. The truth is that as much as the judges tried to set some apart from the rest it was really hard to come up and say anything negative about the performances. If one said something bad, the other would totally go against his/her point of view.

This season has not developed favorites, I honestly think that people have been voting purely based on their performances, this has not come across as a popularity contest but as a dance competition that has been equally fair to all.

With the exception of Caitlin all my favorites are still in the competition, and my absolute favorite continues to get rave reviews and comments.

The addition of a guest "jidge" namely Ellen DeGeneres was a clever idea. She brought life and humor to the show at a time when understandably so the participants have to be pretty stressed out, not to mention tired from the daily rigors of their schedules. She was very funny without sounding stupid or pretending she was a bona fide dance judge.

Well, tomorrow is the 100th show and they are planning something big to celebrate. Definitely one that should not be missed. Good luck to all dancers, all eight are absolutely awesome.

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Taco Tuesday: Bodegas

There’s no worse way to end an enjoyable morning at a world-renowned museum than by clouding it with crappy, artless food -- which is exactly what Houstonians have been forced to do for so many years. Despite the presence of 15+ respected attractions, the Museum District has traditionally been a black hole of culinary decency. Until now. Enter Bodegas Taco Shop.

Tucked into a nondescript office building at Binz and Caroline sits the newest taco shop to grace our fair city. If you’ve been to any other taco/burrito joint in town, you know the drill: Choose your vessel (burrito, tacos, nachos, tostada), add your protein (rotisserie chicken, fajita steak, ground sirloin, carnitas, or veggies), and then stock it up with any number of the 30 toppings, sauces, and salsas.


Be sure to show up hungry. Hulking nacho bowls will feed an army of angst-filled teenagers, fresh from the latest IMAX at the HMNS. Art-gawkers will love the symmetry of the fish tacos, not to mention the outstanding coleslaw on top. There’s a full kids menu for any post Children’s Museum meltdowns. And Rothko Chapel fans will probably head straight to the bar. Not that I blame them -- the margaritas are dazzling. Stick with the on-the-rocks classic, though. Made simply with tequila, fresh lime juice, and agave nectar, these puppies are among the best in town. Avoid the sticky-sweet fruit margaritas -- they’re just the regular ones with added powder flavoring.


Bodegas truly gets it right on every aspect, except one. And it’s a big one. Meats are high quality, moist, and fresh, but have little flavor of their own. We’ve all heard the gripes about over salting, but come on. Give it a sprinkle! Oh, they try to hide the seasoning dearth with snappy lettuce, juicy tomato, and some addictively fantastic salsas, but it’s there. Watching, waiting, begging to be remedied. Carnitas, chicken, fajita steak, fish... All the same.

Despite its lack of signage, limited parking, and saltless meats, Bodegas provides a satisfying lunch in an area of town with museums a plenty, but limited culinary reach. I hope this one -- like so many others -- is not a traveling exhibit.

Bodegas Taco Shop – 1200 Binz (at Caroline)

The can man

Monday is a good day for fresh starts and resolutions. Resolution #1 today was to get out before sunrise for a walk. Today I took not just one but three walks. The first one was at 6:30 with Chica and her buddy Una along the cliff where we spotted a heron on the rocks and found an easy way to get down to the water at low tide.

Next I took Sofia on a ten-minute stroll. Old and grumpy, she balks a lot, while young Chica always wants to run, so if I walk them both at once I'm prodding one and trying to rein in the other.

Then I changed into my swimsuit and ambled down to the Marina Terra Hotel pool (which I recently discovered is completely shaded by the hotel building at 8am! No sunblock required!) But on Mondays the maintenance man is cleaning the pool. "Hasta nueve," he tells me. Well, a freshly-cleaned pool after a weekend of hotel guests is worth waiting for.

On our street I noticed a man with a big plastic bag, stopping at each garbage can to look for recyclable cans. As usual, I felt a twinge of guilt (guiltmeister that I am). The Capt has been quaffing at least a couple of sodas a day, and the cans have been tossed in with the other garbage. I used to put them in a separate bag, tied to the handle of the garbage can so the recycling guy could get them without rummaging. Resolution #2 for today: I promised myself I'd start doing that again. A not-so-random act of kindness. But who knows? Maybe he'd rummage anyway.

Around the corner four recyclers were busy stomping dozens of cans spread out on the concrete. The garbage truck comes on Monday morning, so they have to get an early start to find their loot before it's taken away. There's a fellow in town next to the video store who throws the cans on the street at the bus stop, and sits in his plastic chair waiting for the bus to flatten them. He gives me a smug grin when I pass by. In our neighborhood a bus passes by every 15 minutes, so these hombres could also "automate" some of their work. But since they're in view of the police station and the nicest hotel in the vicinity, maybe cans in the street isn't a good idea.

When I came home the Capt was in his studio, practicing a series of songs we're working on. Resolution #3: we're going to try recording a few of them using GarageBand. I find that I'm feeling a form of stagefright, which is ludicrous considering there won't be an audience, only the Capt, me and the recorder. Maybe sometime this week I can upload a tune or two on the blog.

Ummm Ceviche!

My niece invited us to dinner on Friday and she surprised us with a huge bowl of ceviche. I had not eaten ceviche for quite a while so I was up to the task. To go with it she had a green salsa that was nothing but raw peppers, may I add it was delicious.

Ceviche is better served in tostadas so that's how we ate it. I had three tostadas and was pretty much stuffed by the end of the third one. A glass of red wine somehow complemented the tostadas really good and to top it all off they offered us some fresh baked brownies and a bowl of watermelon.

It was a nice afternoon complete with some pretty good conversation. It was the first time we went to their new place and we were pleasantly surprised to find out they are practically our neighbours. They are only about 5 minutes away from us.

Thanks guys for having us and treating us to such wonderful afternoon.

And this is how an empty ceviche bowl looks like after being attacked by hungry tostada eaters.


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Blues on the Beach

Evening shadows were providing welcome shade and a soft offshore breeze was starting up when the Capt and I arrived at the beach with Sofia and Chica to hear some blues, meet some friends and sip a limonada or two. The free event was sponsored by a group of businesspeople who are promoting the state of Sonora in general and San Carlos in particular as safe for vacationers, despite the media reports and general hysterial over shootings, crime...the flu...corrupt cops...and a number of other hazards I've lost track of.

Angel Diamond and her band provided the music, some of my favorite songs and a new one I got a kick out of, the "Bureaucrat Blues." At least three boats cruised in as close as they could get to shore in order to hear the tunes.


The Pacifico Girls to the left of the stage were attempting to move to the beat, but the ones on the right seemed to be waiting for Latin tempos

Four Pacifico Beer Girls in sort-of-matching bathing suits flanked the stage, but they couldn't get the hang of the beat, not being blues kinda chicas, even though their handler did his best to get them to loosen up. Finally they began working the crowd, handing out blue plastic beads with the demand that if you took the beads you had to get up and dance. And, would you believe it, the Capt danced with me! Have you ever danced in soft sand? Exhausting!

It was left to gray-haired gringos to show them how it's done. But most of us were winded after one song.

Bands are scheduled once a month for the next four months, playing Friday and Saturday evenings. Maybe the Capt will go with me again, if I'm lucky.

Blood on the docks*

Photo: Sailfish, Captain Wally's Fishing Report

A giant two-story inflated Tecate beer can towers over the dock at the marina near where dozens of trophy fish will be displayed and photographed this weekend. A reminder to stock up, I suppose. The 62nd Annual International Billfishing Tournament was underway at 6:30 this morning and the docks were already buzzing.

The trouble with trophies, of course, is that these magnificent sea creatures have to die in order to get their pictures taken. The local restaurants offer to cook whatever catch is brought in, especially during tournaments, so the sports invite all their friends to the feast. Or donate the fish to the local orphanage or old folks' home. Regulations forbid selling the catch, or filleting it on the boat. The "bag limit" per fisherman is one billfish per day, although there's no limit to the number of fish that may be caught and released, as long as they're released in good condition. I don't know who is supposed to be the judge of that.

Our intrepid fisherman friend Garth is still in Mulege (Baja) with his panga "Tunaholic" (an oversize open powerboat), so he probably won't be competing this year. He sent me an email describing his exploits on his last fishing day alone in the Sea. (His reference to "feathers" is a special lure he invented.) I doubt any of the tournament competitors with their buddies, coolers full of Tecate and their lavishly-equipped power boats will be able to beat Garth's latest fishing-wrestling saga. Hemingway would have loved it.

Garth, aboard "Tunaholic"

"I wanted a marlin to fill Tere's** freezer. Made coffee in the panga about 4 a.m. and was underway by 5. No fish at all for 40 miles but I was bound for an area east of Isla San Ildefonso where I used to take clients that had never caught a marlin.

"First hookup about 10 was an 14-minute fight on a small sail(fish) which I released. Feathers back in and within 10 minutes a huge blue marlin hit the right rigger. I saw him hit and he hit so hard he nearly broke the rigger. He immediately took all the monofil out and about a third of the spectra. One hour and eight minutes later I had him to leader twice (counts as a release) but he finally abraded the line with his bill. I estimate this fish at about 200 kilos conservatively (more than 440 lbs.)

"I was pretty tired but I really wanted a fish so feathers back in. Within 20 minutes another blue hit. I had this one on a fairly lightly riggerd tuna feather. 53 minutes later I had this fish with the bill in my hands with a towel wrapped around the bill. I tried to reach the knife and could not so I held on with one hand and stretched and the fish twisted and I lost the towel but was able to grab the fish's bill with both hands. A real Mexican standoff. Tore the hell out of my hands but I finally got my shirt off and wrapped it around the bill. This fish weighed about 120 kilos and I could not control it and I could not kill it. I managed to get the hook out and let it go. Or maybe I should say he let me go.

"Fourth hookup was what I thought was a striped marlin. Good fight for a little over 20 minutes and I did get the bill and knife, bled the fish out over the side and hauled her aboard. I still thought this was a 65 kilo striper. Too tired to clean the fish there so I headed back to Los Pilares. Kept fish wet and covered. As I made the first cut I realized it was a sail, really huge for a sail.

"Hell of a day. I am really tired but really a great final fishing trip for the season."
* Blood on the Docks is the name of a local sportfishing outfit.
**Tere is the matriarch of the large Mexican family he "adopted" in Mulege.

Time



It is Friday once again
The days go by too fast
I sometimes regret the days wasted
And wonder of the ones to come.
Why is time so darn important
After all we are not being charged
Because time is a hot commodity
That once gone it won't come back
So waste your time on trivial things
Or make you time a petty life
Or use it to your best advantage
And always use it as if it the last
For time is the equalizer
Time is what makes you wise
Time is what you think you have a lot of
And then realize it's not enough
So now we reach another weekend
I will make it a good time
Time to be spent with my family
A family that grows with time
Think of time as the great companion
Because time will not leave you behind
Hand in hand into the future
A future that will come in time.


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Hank’s Ice Cream

Well before the deluge of commercial manufacturers, ice cream was an extravagance, made in small batches through an achingly slow, labor-intensive process. Today, ice cream is king. Little kids long for it, summer virtually belongs to it, and other desserts are even sauced with it. But where can you go to avoid the corporate mongers and find the ice cream of your youth? Simple: Hank’s.


A Houston institution for 20+ years, Hank’s has always produced ice cream the old-fashioned way: slowly, by hand, using fresh ingredients. The bright and humble parlor showcases eighteen delicious flavors each day, rotating from a list of nearly 100. Devotees swear by the butter pecan -- but really, you can’t go wrong with any flavor. I love the dulce de leche, cake batter, and chocolate chip. Beyonce always gets banana pudding :)

Bluebell is good, yes. But Hank’s is a true ice cream experience: An intensely creamy, achingly rich, addictively tasty dessert served with a side of nostalgia.

Hank’s Ice Cream - 9291 S. Main (near Reliant Stadium)

Yup, that’s Hank on the right!

A hug in Spanish

Sometimes I come across a word in Spanish that just delights me, makes me want to say it over and over, and find excuses for using it. One of my all-time favorites is albondigas, which means "meatball." It's just a fun thing to roll around in my mouth, even if I am a vegetarian these days.

By the way, the name of the boat piloted by the Pirates of the Caribbean in the sailors' cult movie "Captain Ron" was "Albondigas."


And now I have a new palabra, compliments of my blogging colleague Mexico Bob: apapachar, which according to WordRef means something like a cross between a hug (abrazar) and a caress (acariciar), an enhanced hug if you like. I do. A good mnemonic to help remember apapachar is that "papa" is embedded in it. As in "Come to papa."

(A good mnemonic to remember "mnemonic" is that it rhymes with "demonic," an apt description of whoever coined this word.)

How timely that I should learn apapachar, since the Capt and I have been practicing six-second hugs ever since I saw a report that hugs of six-second duration increase the huggers' serotonin and oxytocin levels. At first we were muttering "one, one-thousand...two, one-thousand..." and so on to make sure we put in enough time, but now, if anything, we tend to slide into the 30-second range. It must be working.

Most of us have a rough idea of what serotonin is, but I didn't have a clue about oxytocin until I Googled it. One women's website called filly.ca called it "The Cuddle Hormone...the Body's Own Love Potion." Here it is, right from the horse's mouth (sorry, couldn't resist):
Oxytocin is a hormone produced naturally in the hypothalamus in the brain. Studies have shown that oxytocin is associated with our ability to mediate emotional experiences in close relationships and maintain healthy psychological boundaries.

In studies with non-human mammals, oxytocin has been shown to promote nest building and pup retrieval, acceptance of adopted offspring, and the formation of adult pair-bonds.
There's even an oxytocin spray you can spritz on yourself to make people trust you. The salesman's dream. There's no evidence that it actually works, which is probably just as well…

I also read recently that 20 minutes of Vitamin D direct from sunlight relieves depression. There were a number of unanswered questions I still have to research on this subject. The article said you won't get your Vitamin D if you're wearing sunblock, but what if you only put sunblock on your face and neck, as I do? Can the 20 minutes be cumulative, ten now and ten later? (It's HOT out there!)

And can you get even better results by hugging out in the sunshine?

Defending my turf


For about a month you've probably noticed advertising on this blog. I signed up with AdSense, probably due to a recent temporary feeling of financial insecurity, self-delusion about how many viewers would be interested, and the hope that they'd pop in ads for sailing equipment and Mexican resorts, items I wouldn't really object to very much. Sometimes they actually did.

Other ads were even a little amusing, like the ones promising a pill to help you get over shyness. (I know a great commercial for tequila that promises the exact same thing.)

But today I decided to opt out of the AdSense arrangement, when an ad for Scientology appeared on my page. I hope all you Scientologists out there (Travolta, Cruise and the rest) won't feel you're victims of religious discrimination.

I'm sure there's a place for Scientology ads, but not on my page.

And for everyone else, I hope you won't miss the ads too much (lame joke).

False Evidence Appearing Real



FEAR is an acronym in the English language for "False Evidence Appearing Real"
Travel alerts, swine flu reports and news stories about violent crimes in Mexico have all taken their toll on the tourism industry which is the largest legitimate source of income in the country. Locally, a group of businesspeople calling themselves Sonora Is Safe has organized in an attempt to counteract some of the bad press, with a website (SonoraIsSafe.com) and a free live music series to be launched this weekend here in San Carlos. Blues and jazz on my favorite beach—what's not to like!? They'll be raffling off restaurant dinners, hotel weekends, dolphin encounters, quad rentals and spa packages, too. I never win these things, but hope springs eternal. Their posters say, "Don't let inaccurate information in the press ruin your vacation." The website extols the local attractions but also wisely includes travel tips for making your vacation safer.

I'm not deluding myself. For every person who swears life in Mexico is perfectly safe, there's probably someone who can recount some incident in which they or someone they know was robbed or burgled or worse.

All I know is my own history. I lived in Northern California more than 40 years. In San Francisco on my way to night class I was knocked down by a mugger who stole my purse, which contained my final exam. In San Rafael someone broke into my car and took my purse while I was lugging a basket of laundry and a baby into the laundromat. In Sausalito my houseboat was burgled, and my new stereo system taken. In Petaluma, I was victim of a midnight home invasion, with guns aimed at our heads and a couple of frightful hours while the thieves searched the house for everything of value. There's more, but these are the incidents that particularly outraged me.

I've lived here in San Carlos year-round for three years and have sailed the coast and visited places as far south as Barra de Navidad since 1997. My only losses in Mexico have been due to my own negligence: wallets left behind in public places a couple of times. No one has threatened me, swindled me or given me any reason to feel unsafe. Have I just been lucky? If that's the case, the Capt has also been lucky, as well as just about everyone I know.

So Friday I think I'll take a picnic and go dancing on the beach, maybe buy a couple of raffle tickets, snap some pictures and invite my friends. It's for a good cause.

The hens they all cackle, the roosters all beg,
But I will not hatch, I will not hatch.
For I hear all the talk of pollution and war
As the people all shout and the airplanes roar,
So I'm staying in here where it's safe and it's warm,
And I WILL NOT HATCH!

Shel Silverstein

Wednesday Tidbits

Ah, to be young. My daughter Nikki and I are Harry Potter fans, we have read all the books and therefore watched all the movies and when they come out on DVD I buy them too. It is safe to say I've seen each movie more than once. Well we've been waiting for the new movie to come out for a year now as you may or may not know it was delayed. My daughter and I were supposed to go on opening day but for the second time she dumps me and takes her husband and my niece to watch it on the midnight showing. I called her to say hi at about seven and she told me they were in line at the theater to get in.

Crazy I say. I called her again at about 9:30 pm and they were already inside and have gotten good seats. My other niece and her friends joined them too. And the movie is still about two hours and a half away. Did I say I think that's crazy?

I have not talked to her this morning but I know she is going to be draggin'. Harry Potter movies usually run over two hours long so I'm thinking they finally got home close to 3:00 am. Oh, and when I go see it this or next weekend, they'll probably come again too. They always do, sort of a tradition of ours.

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My niece Becca is visiting from Calfornia and I have yet to see her. Tuesday is my day to stay with my mom so I won't be home until tonight. Becca can drive and has her own car but she rather rode the Greyhound than drive by herself. She'll be here until Saturday morning and then off she goes. Welcome to Arizona Becca, I hope you have fun here... What am I saying, I know you will, you guys probably already started having fun as soon as you got here.

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For those of you that watch So You Think You Can Dance (not you Señor Manuel) tonight the top 10 take the stage and will have to spill all their guts on it. Out of the ten there is no weak dancer. Evan and Randi will or will not create a disadvantage due to being shorter than the rest but in dancing you never know what will happen. All I can say is I can't wait to see tonight's performances.

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Top Ten


And then there were 10. This is just such a great group of dancers that each week it doesn't matter who goes out it is not a happy ending. I miss them all. I am happy to say my favorites are still in there. OK, maybe not all my favorites as last week Caitlin one of my favorites since the auditions finally got the boot, so to speak because along with Phillip they were the bottom dancers and the two to go home.

Oh but not so fast, Phillip and his unique hip hop style and Caitlin beautiful dancing charmed the judges and the producers so much that for the first time they are taking the top six couples on the road. What a great surprise, specially for Caitlin whom seem sad to be so close and be eliminated.

The next few shows will really showcase the dancer's abilities and their versatility as they will be getting a different partner from now on. Kayla should be already used to this as she has had different partners already. I kindda worry about Evan and Randi only because everybody else is much taller than they are. It shouldn't be that much of a problem for Randi as it will be for Evan, but again all ten remaining dancers are very talented and I really don't have any predictions as to who is going out. Funny because I am usually accurate on my predictions. This season I am just taking it in as it comes.

On the curiosity side, I want to see what happens to Brandon and Janette. Together they had been the strongest couple now they go their separate ways just like everybody else. Janette the Salsa dancer had been good at everything she has danced so far and I doubt she'll get to dance Salsa in this show. Brandon is just good at everything, he'll be just fine, I'm even thinking he'll be top 2 and eventually will be crowned this seasons champion. Oops, I thought I was not going to do predictions.

I am so looking forward to Wednesday's performance, and can't wait for the fall season to start and this one isn't even over yet.

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Diligent Joy

I've been submerged in another book, this one so good that many times in the reading of it I have wanted to share some of my favorite passages with you even before finishing it. But a moment ago I regretfully put it down, having read the last page and wishing there were more.

The full title is "Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia" by Elizabeth Gilbert, an author who has all the best qualities of the best women writers I've ever read...wry humor, freewheeling joy and deepest sorrow all transcribed in vivid metaphors. She travels the way I'd like to do, spending weeks and months in her favorite places until they and the people who inhabit them become part of her. Leaving behind the frenetic life of a New Yorker, she devotes a year of her life to exploration of the outer world and her inner self, beginning with a pleasure-seeking tour of Italy to learn Italian before going on to an ashram in India to learn meditation and yoga and later to Bali for an extended visit with an Indonesian medicine man.

On learning Italian: "He didn't realize I spoke Italian. Neither did I, actually, but we talk for about twenty minutes and I realize for the first time that I do. Some line has been crossed and I'm actually speaking Italian now." Ah, that lightbulb moment when communication becomes natural. That moment I'm still hoping for.

On her struggle to learn meditation in the ashram: "I can't seem to get my mind to hold still. I mentioned this once to an Indian monk, and he said, 'It's a pity you're the only person in the history of the world who ever had this problem.'" And when she succeeds: "Thoughts come, but I don't pay much attention to them, other than to say to them in an almost motherly manner, 'Oh, I know you jokers... go outside and play now... Mommy's listening to God.'"

On happiness: "...once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever... It's easy enough to pray when you're in distress but continuing to pray even when your crisis has passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to its good attainments...
This is a practice I've come to call 'Diligent Joy.'... All the sorrow and trouble of this world is caused by unhappy people... The search for contentment is, therefore, not merely a self-preserving and self-benefiting act, but also a generous gift to the world."

Channeling My Internal Pollyanna

I’ve been moderately quiet lately. And here’s why: I haven’t had anything that makes me run to the keyboard with delight. Nothing that inspires comparisons. Not a morsel to sing about. I’ve lost my muse! [Rehhhh-Rerrrrrrr.] Among the mediocrity, though, a few things stand out. And here they are...

Sautéed squid at t’afia
While I haven’t been overwhelmed by t’afia in recent visits, the summer squid sauté is a dream: massive tubes and tentacles with an enchantingly chewy consistency, topped with a spicy chili sauce. Light and airy, deliciously hot. This? Is how squid should be. The avocado sashimi also tickled the buds.


Waffles ‘n wings at The Breakfast Klub
Excited was I to dine at this Houston institution with some close friends Friday morning. We scraped in just before the massive line appeared, which seemed like a serendipitous start. But the bubble burst as soon as our food showed up. Yikes! The Wings-n-Waffles dish is great—especially the “wings” part—but the remaining offerings there... not so much.


Salmon tartar at Gravitas
Now that Scott Tycer is fully committed to his latest upstart, Textile, his old haunt Gravitas has lost its punch. The menu sounds enticing enough, but the preparations, themselves, have no soul. What’s a hungry diner to do? I'll tell you: Stick with something easy. Like the salmon tartar, mounds of fresh salmon flanked by chopped cucumber and dressed lightly with a chili-soy sauce. Hard to beat.


Raw mackerel at Nippon
A friend and I dined at Nippon’s sushi bar omakase last week. The chef was clearly hesitant to break outside the boundaries of rolls and nigiri, until we chastised him into giving us this: a gorgeous presentation of raw mackerel lightly drizzled with lemon and soy, then topped with smattering of green onions and sesame seeds. Once we downed the lightly sweet cubes of fish, he whisked away the filet, deep fried it, and then returned it to us. Paper thin and golden, it had the consistency of a cracker and the taste of a dream.


Don’t worry. The dearth of culinary inspirations has not deterred me at all, fearless readers. It just means I’ll have to look harder. Onward!

The Last Game of the Season

We're number one.


Well Ducky's last game happened last week. This is all good because playing anything outside when it's 115 degrees cannot be too good. I was invited by my daughter to go see the last game of the season and as always it was a blast. Watching these tiny little kids play is just too funny.

"Why do they always do that to me?" was Ducky's question while being thrown out at first twice. Of course he would get frustrated and obviously a little tantrum was in order but nothing that the little treats they get at the end of the game can't fix.


Ducky!


We got there late so the other team beat us to the good side of the field, we were left with the side that faces the sun, so not only were we fighting the extreme heat but also the nasty reflection in our eyes. Can you say fun? The things parents and grandparents have to endure. It's all worth it, in the end the kids will have the memories and experiences learned. Some will want more while others will not. Our Ducky didn't say yei or nei so we figure we'll force another season on him.

Eventually he'll probably let us know if he wants to play soccer or learn karate, or something like that for now we lead him.

Here are some more pictures of him and his team.


A duck and his mommy duck.


Top of the world, top of the world.


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Reason #12 for becoming a vegetarian

If you love eating pork rinds and you're thinking maybe you should give them up, here's a YouTube video that could expedite the process. Warning: animals were harmed in the making of this film.

Stormy Sunday

My friend Sue in Oregon emailed me this morning, "… I saw on the web site, the storm in your area. I do hope you are OK, and just wind."

The Capt calls it a chubasco, but there's no thunder and lightning, just a blustery, wild wind, the kind that makes me want to take a long walk with the dog and watch the waves crash against the rocks and listen to the palms rustling and feel its coolness on my skin. The scientific explanation is that the wind and proximity of rain produce negative ions that improve the mood and boost the metabolism. I could use a little of that. For some reason the Capt and I got an early start with coffee at 5:30 and then fell asleep again, so we had to start all over two hours later.

The sky is gray, darker gray in the direction of Guaymas, where I expect they'll get all the rain as usual.

I took my camera in my backpack down to the marina, which was swarming like a disturbed anthill. Vacationers, charged by all those negative ions, are standing in groups eagerly waiting their turn to climb into the rent-a-boats and venture out into the wind-tossed bay. They drove hundreds of miles, it's Sunday and they'll be back at work tomorrow, and by God they're going to get on a boat or else! Ladies in their new boating togs exchange nervous glances while their novios trade manly jokes and laugh in their bravado. A cluster of city folk, having wandered the docks and gotten bitten by the boat bug, are avidly studying the listings of vessels posted in the window of the sales office.

Ever hopeful, the wood carving man has set out his little dolphins, sailfish and seals as usual, and the Indian lady spread a blanket on the walkway to display her beadwork.

When I think of what I like about summer in San Carlos, it's days like today. I wouldn't mind if we got a little rain as well, but maybe another time.