Half a Year

Sancha Melchor.
Well it is a happy fact that I like who I am, what I am, how I am, where I am, at all times, day or night, night or day. I am a reflection of my parents, their teachings, their examples, and their love for each other as well as for us. In life there comes a time when change is needed, but that is definitely not my time right now, I do however and only to a point adapt to my present by making the necessary adjustments. Tweaking and fine-tuning my life is a never-ending task, which I do happily and willingly based on the fact that I realize I have a great foundation already in place.

This foundation is the great legacy mi chica left me. I am who I am, what I am, how I am, and where I am all thanks to her, to her continuous trust and love for me, to the endless understanding and patience she had in me, and to the unconditional commitment (I call it more a gamble) that she trusted in me.

Apparently this is true for so many other people where mi chica spread her magic. She indeed had the magic touch, and I was the number one recipient of her particular type of magic. Amazingly enough there was so much of it that all my kids, grandkids, and an endless amount of friends will authenticate the validity of this fact.

I am, who I am, and what I am, all thanks to you
Your unconditional love and endless excitement
Your infinite patience and unsurpassed understanding
Your wisdom, your laughter
Your screaming, so drastic
It was all part of you, and we all knew to trust it.
You thought us more than we all bargained for
But you did throw some curves, as to wind up the road
You did not make it easy, you did not make it hard
You just gave us the challenge, and you did it so right
If we learned the lessons, you so kindly spread out
We should all be OK as that sure was your plan

Half a year just passed and her legacy continues. I already see it will never die. To see her kids go and visit her fills my heart with a certain joy that is unsurpassed. Last week her marker was placed and the inscription above her name reads “Amor Eterno” (Eternal Love). Yes it was the name of her favorite song but also the mantra by which she lived and loved.

She definitely turned me into a better person, and a better man, and I have a feeling she is not done yet.

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Tidbits Time

So my daughter was in need to vent and who better to listen to her than El Daddy~O, yes she received good news that didn't turn out to be so good, needless to say she was not a happy camper so after she vented she asked what's for dinner. Normally that is a question I would ask but since she beat me to it I said enchiladas ala Joe Cool. We needed a couple of ingredients so Michelle went to the store and got me the stuff needed for the sauce.

I still had three Havanero peppers left over from our camping trip and they were still good so when I made the sauce I decided to use them. Since I had never used Havaneros before I decided to only use two instead of the three I had available, I was so glad I did because the sauce came out pretty hot.

The end result was pretty awesome if I may say so myself. The girls really loved them too although Nikki thought they were a little hot. We send a care package to Loyiel whom immediately called me upon finishing his plate and told me that it was not the enchiladas' fault, why did I make them so hot. lol I had to let him know that my enchiladas although hot, they were not that hot, and that he was a wimp.


I'll just call them Havanero enchiladas. Ummm que ricas!
Bottom line, I don't cook often but when I do, watch out.

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Last Saturday I went out with the kids and took them to Target. When I got there I parked the van and next to us this awesome Mustang sat there looking a little dirty but other than that it looked pretty awesome. I believe in using your car not putting it in a garage so it doesn't get dirty.



We went into the store, did our shopping and left the store. Then as I get to the van parked right in front of us was this beauty. Do you believe in subliminal messages? Were they trying to tell me something? Ummm got me thinking, I would go and buy me a new Mustang or a newer to Mustang, it doesn't have to be a brand new, I prefer for someone else to take the car's depreciation first.



This baby sit at the same dealer we bought the van and my brother's car. And as I passed the other day it was like it kept calling my name. Oh believe me, I was and still am so tempted. But I will resist.



Instead I am going to finally start fixing mine. I started it today and found out my battery is dead. So it's getting a new battery tomorrow, then it's off to emissions, hopefully it will pass with no problem then off to the transmission shop to get that ugly transmission fluid leak taken care off, then it's off to the upholstery shop to get my rear window installed. After that it will take many cosmetic items here and there but my car will once again look nice, oh yes it will.


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And while on the subject of Mustangs, the Copperstate Mustang Club held it's annual Ice Cream Social this Saturday. As always there was plenty of ice cream to go around, and this year we even had corn dogs and brownies. The banana splits and sundaes were a hit, as they had every imaginable fixing available, from the ever popular sprinkles to the chocolate and caramel syrups. Ummm it was all good.

Diego, Alayna, and Savannah posing for me before the sugar rush hit them.
The cockpit on a brand new 2011 Mustang convertible. The leather smell was oh so good.
The kids admiring the older Mustang. Call me sentimental but I am stuck on the Fox Bodied Mustangs.

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Spotlighting the Locals

Growing up in Houston we feasted on Luby’s, queso, and fast food, but these days you could truly host a dinner party made almost entirely of foods produced within a 100-mile radius of Houston. The number of farmers markets and local vendors in the Houston area has virtually exploded over the past decade as more and more chefs and patrons want to know both the source of the foods they purchase -- and the makers, themselves.


Below are some of the Local Spotlight posts I’ve written recently for Eating Our Words. These have quickly become my favorite posts to research and write, as each vendor has such a unique story to tell: Some joined the trade out of basic necessity, while others did it for personal satisfaction or consider it a family tradition. But regardless of roots, each vendor highlights the inherent joys of working in and serving the local community. They've become richly fulfilled... Now, if only that paid the bills.

These posts have also, ahemmmm, helped my eating habits, as I’ve tried to incorporate more and more local foods in my own diet. Feelin’ good!

Produce from Wood Duck Farm:
http://tinyurl.com/2epzedm

Poultry and meats from Jolie Vue:
http://tinyurl.com/27aeo74

Heritage meats from Revival:
http://tinyurl.com/24xeos4

Drinks from Katz Coffee:
http://tinyurl.com/2dwyazx

Olive oil from Texas Hill Country Olive Company:
http://tinyurl.com/2bszdvl

Eggs from Hattermann's Farm:
http://tinyurl.com/25pdvdh

Macarons from Maison Burdisso:
http://tinyurl.com/25uwure

Cheese from the Houston Dairymaids:
http://tinyurl.com/292cm3m

Cured meats from The Grateful Bread:
http://tinyurl.com/292cm3m

Gelato from Trentino:
http://tinyurl.com/292cm3m

Houston restaurants with gardens:
http://tinyurl.com/2e3l2m4

Got any suggestions for future spotlights? I’m all ears!

Scary Freakin' Video

 Sonoran Paradise Island Resort from elazulestudio on Vimeo.
Someone posted this video on the local Viva San Carlos forum, and watching it, I began feeling queasy. Frightened, then angry, then disgusted. It's an architectural plan meant to excite investors, and whoever made it I suspect never actually set foot in San Carlos. Rodeo Drive-style shopping mall, a condo tower out on what looks to be Honeymoon Island with acres of dirt dredged up to enlarge it. Beltranes Blvd sweeping past miles of housing developments that look like Southern California. 

For one thing, they left out images of the humungous desalinization plant that would be required to support such an endeavor. We already have serious water shortages here. It's the desert, for pity's sake!


A thundering soundtrack complete with heavenly chorus. "We will not be deterred," is the message. Local response was surprisingly blasé, with comments like "Bring it on," and "If they make this place into a resort it will mean work for lots of locals both in construction and the service industry..." and "This is a Fonatur project... this is the branch of the Government that built Cancun, Los Cabos, Puerto Vallarta, Ixtapa-Zihuatanejo, Huatulco and Manzanillo." Yikes!

One person's dream, another person's nightmare. 



All I can hope is that if they're successful, it won't be in my lifetime.

Princess Cruise, indeed!

 Princess Rosalina, a Mario heartthrob, at Gamespot

We are not the only sailors heading for the high seas this weekend; my friend Kris and her novio Al were set to sail today. Their boat has no furling sails, no electric winch to haul up the anchor. And although Kris takes responsibility for manually raising and lowering the sails when they're underway, and hauling up the anchor by hand, Al jokingly refers to her as a "princess."


"Princesses," in cruising vernacular, are mates who are less than enthusiastic about the voyage unless they can count on certain amenities, such as square meals, adequate water, cleanliness, order and pleasant aromas instead of diesel fumes and bilge rot. If these comforts are lacking, they tend to be somewhat vocal, even shrill, about it. They like to have some place on the boat cool enough to sleep. When they get seasick they can't cook. They hate the clunky, smelly toilet in the head. They use too much water washing their hair. They loathe overnight passages and doze off on lonely midnight watches. They are not much help in a crisis. When they spot land, they want to walk on the beach, dine at a palapa restaurant or even go shopping. If they have a choice, they'll catch a taxi to town instead of trudging the mile or so in the midday heat.


Some princesses aren't skilled enough to handle sails or anchor and prefer to just fill in at the helm now and then, and decorate the decks in their bikinis or birthday suits. Some go to extremes with their demands, wanting conveniences like walk-in closets, washers, dryers and jacuzzis on the deck. And some captains actually provide them.


But in my view Kris is hardly a princess if she manages without a furler and electric windlass. Even my Capt wouldn't want to sail without those improvements.


If a boat trip with Kris is a Princess Cruise, it's only because she contributes considerably to the comfort of the voyage, by keeping the boat clean, keeping the captain royally-fed with her gourmet meals and efficiently performing a lot of the duties that (frankly) she does better than he can. So there.


I only hope I can live up to her standard of performance out there on the sea. I admit to a less-than-enthusiastic attitude about sailing this late in the season, intimidated by murderous 100-plus degree heat and dangerous storms. But I'm working on my frame of mind. If Kris can do it, I can too!

Moonglow

"Moonglow," published in 1934 and made famous as the theme song for the movie "Picnic," was my favorite tune when I was 13 years old. Decades later, I'm finally learning to play it on the guitar. Never thought I'd even attempt that.

A full moon tonight. Chica waits outside our door, hoping I'll bring out the tennis ball. The gecko is chirping, hoping a mate will find his way into our house. I start packing for a long road trip to bring our boat back home, hoping for southerly breezes at our back, the company of whales and dolphins and maybe a little wifi along the way somewhere. But we will be anchoring in remote places so this may be my last post for a couple of weeks. I'll save up our adventures and share them when I get home. 

Party In My Tummy

I was hungry and in total need of nourishment and all the lanes at the store were long, then I spot a lane with not as many people as the rest but apparently this lady did too so she beats me to it and is now in front of me, I hated her, not because she beat me to the lane but because she had a rotisserie chicken in her car and the aroma was killing me, my insides started having a party in my tummy in anticipation of what was not to come. Yeah, my tummy hated me too because that chicken was more of a tease my stomach could take. I stood behind this lady for at least five minutes and it was torture. Has anything like this ever happened to you?

OK this didn’t happen to me right now but I remembered about it because I am so hungry and about a block away from my work there’s The BBQ Factory, ummmm they have the best BBQ ribs, and many other dishes that when the wind is blowing just a tad the smell finds its way into my office and it’s TORTURE!

But the consolation was that the girls at work took me to eat Chinese at this nice restaurant that we all seem to enjoy. Once upon a time I didn’t like Chinese food, now somehow it’s one of my favorite foods. The house chow mein / lo mein ummmm, ummmm good, love me the shrimp combined with the beef and chicken.

I am also happy to report that even though you hear me talk about food all the time, I have been not on a diet but basically watching what I eat, eating less and healthier and I am still at 179 pounds, remember at the beginning of the year I was tipping the scale at 198 and that was no bueno. It is a challenge to convince my mom that I can eat less. She always cooks so good and I still stop by her house three days of the week. Just when I think I am finished, BAM! I found more food on my plate and a side dish with fruit and stuff. “Mom, stop it, I am full”. Her reply is always the same, “How can you be full, that was not enough”.Ummm mom gotta love her.

I hope I didn’t get you too hungry with all these talk about food and if I did and you decide to cook… INVITE ME!



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Happy Anniversary To My Blog!

Wow! So who would have guessed that when I started blogging back in June of 2006 I would last this long? It's hard to believe but yes, this is my fourth blogiversary and even though I don't blog daily I say I still keep this pretty alive. This particular post is marking my 800th post, that definitely is a lot of writing and lots of information.

While I have touched on many subjects I try to keep away from controversy, I believe that negativity really won't take us anywhere so I prefer to remain as positive as I can be. What better way to achieve that than by concentrating on my friends and my family. Yeah, family, what can be more positive than that?

I will probably continue to post tidbits of my family life which is what this blog seems to gravitate around, and will try to keep it fresh or at least as fresh as I can and move forward into the fifth year, let's just see how far I can take this.

I am sure there will be lots more pictures to come, so stay tuned for that and as always I am open to suggestions and new ideas.

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God bless men who cook

I admire a man who cooks, and the fortunate woman who has such a fellow around the house. Any mother who teaches her sons to cook is a credit to her gender and a great benefactor to future daughters-in-law.


The Cuban school principal who lives across the way from us does all the cooking, breakfast and dinner. If I'm around at mealtime he insists I join them, whether it's a breakfast shake of bananas and strawberries or dinner of roast pork (no, I'm not going to tell him I'm vegetarian). He brings home huge chunks of meat and cuts them up himself, to make more than one meal for his family of six, and his recipes are usually based on Cuban cuisine. I teasingly asked him once when he was going to open a restaurant, and he replied with all seriousness that he's just looking for the right building site.


A couple is staying next door while their house is being remodeled, and he's the official cook in that home too. She says when they married he told her that her cooking wasn't up to snuff, so he got the job. They're not saying who made that decision, but they both seem satisfied with it.

I've seen my son cook, and it made me so proud, though he didn't learn it from me. Guess he picked it up from a girlfriend. 

Capt Cookie does it again... Oatmeal raisin tonight

Although the Capt doesn't often cook meals,  at least once a week he bakes cookies. So far he's mastered oatmeal-raisin, lemon-coconut, ginger molasses with crystallized ginger (even crystallized the ginger!) and peanut butter. I can't decide which I like best. I try to limit my gorging to right when they come out of the oven, and avoid them after that.


If I'm not in a rush, I find myself enjoying the whole chopping, stirring, combining, recipe-consulting process. But as any cook will tell you, doing it day after day wears down the imagination. After a while I run out of ideas and lose the incentive to find new ones. Yet when we eat out we usually (with a few exceptions) agree we could have a better dinner at home for a lot less. 

It's probably good to think of the cooking process as an art, but only when it's viewed as one of those ephemeral arts, like Tibetan sand painting, created to be demolished. And if a meal turns out to be a major masterpiece, I could always take a photo, couldn't I?

Say No

Anybody that knows me probably already know that I live by this:



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They Love Me, They Really Love Me

"Gentlemen I know today is Father's Day and I just want to let you all know that today I AM THE MAN -- THE #1 DAD and all of you may come a close second. My shirt and my daughters said so and they would not lie to me."

At least that's what I told myself and since I know I don't lie to me than it must be true.

Yesterday I received more Father's Day texts than ever. It seems everyone decided to call me and I was just a happy soul. Between texts, calls, and face book comments I was actually feeling very special.

"Nichole posted something on your Wall and wrote:

Happy Fathers Day to the BEST Dad a girl could ever have! I love you Daddy, I don't know what I'd do without you <3

I love you!!!!"

Michelle posted something on your Wall and wrote:

"Daddy you know you're my number one... I mean my Mom constantly had to remind me that you and I we're like 2 peas in a pod. She always knew I have a special love for you... different than the love I had for her. Not more, not less, just different. I hope you know everyday how much I love you... but especially today because it's dedicated to you. Thanks for all you do for me. Thanks for always being here for me. Thanks for always loving me. You truly are the epitome of what a great Dad is. I love you! Happy Father's Day!

Oh and if you're are one heck of a Father... you are an even better Grandpa! So thanks for that too!"

Laila and I, yes I was enjoying a wonderful nap and I had a little angel watching over me.

And here is Atalie posing with me.

So as you can see these are just two of the many comments full of good wishes and wonderful words that came to me from all over the place. Know that I too love you all and yes "D" as you said in your text. "Enjoy your day and drink up because tomorrow it goes back to Mother's day".

I was also told I was the World's Greatest Grandpa.

Martha Isela Garcia commented on your post:

"Yeah, but I never known of a grandaddy (other that in the movies) stick around the hospital until his grandchildren are born. I salute you! "

Oh yes, I was blessed to be present when nine out of my ten grandkids were born. The other one came on a different but special way too.

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Happy Birthday, Captain!

The Capt kicks back with the dogs.

It's the Capt's birthday, and he's taking a well-deserved break from projects. Or that's the plan, anyway. It's very hard for him to take time off, so we'll have to wait and see...

Feliz cumpleanos, cariño.

Daddy on my mind

Yesterday for the first time in decades, I forgot Father's Day, not that he'd mind, he's been gone since 1965. But this morning I was reminded by Jomamma's post about her dad. I started thinking about the good things my own father brought into my life.


I remember the seesaw he built in the back yard for us. He hadn't finished but we wanted a ride "right now!" so he served as the fulcrum himself. He built an enormous brick barbecue out there too, which I only remember us using a couple of times to cook hotdogs.  He planted geraniums and roses, kept the lawn mowed and later, after he and my mother divorced, started a Japanese rock garden. He was bringing back rocks from the beach for that garden when a heart attack caused him to pull off the road, and he never made it home. He was younger by four years than I am now.


He took us skating every Wednesday night for years and sat watching us. When I was six he patiently walked up and down the street steadying my new bike while I tried to pedal it. He taught me to swim, and when I finally got it, he was the one I wanted to show off to. When my sister and I sold Buddy Poppies for Veterans' Day, he was the one who waited for us and kept an eye on us.


Once he took me out on a motor boat to go fishing and when the motor failed, we were stranded after sundown out in the Gulf and he got us rescued by another fishing boat.

I always thought he looked like Humphrey Bogart. His hair never went gray or receded, and he always looked fit. He was never without his khakis and a perpetual sunburn from his work outdoors operating a dragline for construction crews. He had a hard childhood on a farm in the Midwest, growing up with immigrant parents who considered him, as the oldest of six, only a laborer who didn't need to go to school. But he loved to read and use "three-dollar words" and I wonder what he might have done with more education.


He was reserved with my sister and me, and I don't remember ever having a long conversation with him. He didn't seem to notice me much. My mother said he was disappointed we weren't boys.


But one of the sweetest moments of my life was when I dressed up in a yellow organdy gown for a junior high school dance and went to find him working in the yard. He looked at me, surprised, and said, "Why, you're beautiful!"


Thanks, Daddy, I needed that.

Puppies du jour

Hope springs eternal, and so we share the images of yet another batch of puppies temporarily sheltered at the Canine Center, aka Dog Daze, in hopes at least one of them will find a home. It's happened before, when someone in Boston saw a dog named Fe on my blog and fell in love with her. Our Cinderella dog, we call Fe. Another time, someone in the States saw a pup here and sponsored him, helping with vaccinations and food until the dog was placed in a loving home.

The little white female is expected to grow to be a medium-size dog, and she's already being leash-trained. Very bright, say the Dog Daze folks. The brindled black-and-gold pup, also female, has a sweet disposition and should be easy to train. She'll also grow to medium-size. Both are house-trained to the extent that they do their business outside.

I stopped by to photograph them at midday and they were limp with the heat, not their usual perky pup selves. But easier to keep in focus, sprawled on the cool tile floor.

Dog Daze can be reached by phone from the States by calling 011-52-622-226-0926 or on their cell phone at 011-521-622-103-0924.

The Art of Ditching

Back in my school days, I am talking way back to Jr. High and High School ditching classes was not something I would do. When I came from Mexico and was enrolled in school I had to start in the 8th grade, back in those days we didn't call it middle school but Jr. High and it consisted of three years only, 7th, 8th, and 9th grades. Well, I did have perfect attendance as I didn't miss not even one day, yes I loved school that much, so much in fact that I always enrolled in Summer School as well. Pretty much the same could be said for High School with the exception of missing some days due to illness.

So, now obviously I no longer go to school but now as a member of the choir I am required to go to practice every Thursday night and early Sunday right before mass. But being a member of the Copperstate Mustang Club, and being an avid motorcycle rider, I find myself missing out on a lot of the rides and or functions and also on some family events as well so as much as I don't like to but I must ditch some practices and even some masses here and there.

Still, I have to call and ask for permission to ditch practice. lol Once a good kid, always a good kid (at least that's what I tell myself) and hopefully the teacher or in this case my sister (our choir director) will give me her blessing to miss the class/practice.

We went to this Hooters at the Arizona Center.Images borrowed from the Internet.

So when I was invited to go watch the Basketball finals at Hooters it was a little hard to turn down. And when you go watch it with the ultimate Lakers fan it's a little wild but nevertheless lots of fun. So, although I am far, far away from converting and leaving my beloved Suns, I found myself rooting for The Lakers if only by association. It was a good game, a nice night in the patio under the misters which kept us pretty refreshed, and the beer pitchers that kept coming. Me, being designated driver held at my limit of 2 only and still fell tipsy so even tho not hungry I had to chow down or some delicious chicken wings. OK, I am lying, Hooters chicken wings are really not all that delicious but the hit the spot. If not mine at least the guy's that asked me for my left overs as we were walking to the car. Besides, really do guys go to Hooters just for the chicken wings? *wink* *wink*.

As for the outcome of the game as if you didn't know already. It was Lakers by a few lucky shots.



Image borrowed from the Internet.

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Tidbits

I know, I know, I have not blogged in over a week, nothing really has come my way in the form of a post so while I wait for something interesting to happen, another family gathering perhaps, I will just post a bunch or nonsense. I little bit of this and a little bit of that.

Choirboy update. Somehow not only am I singing Sunday mass but last week I sang Friday, Saturday, and two on Sunday back to back. As my sister stated in my face book wall, I had another solo and the priest gave the choir special recognition. Although not necessary it boosts our drive to get better and to sing louder to God. I find myself in church so often now that I am catching up and making up for all those days I ignored it. OK, I know it doesn't quite works that way but it would definitely be nice.

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Me and my little Ducky Duck
This picture is not too old, I believe my daughter took it but now I am not even sure. One think I am sure though is that I love me this little "Duck". This has got to be one of my favorite pictures with him.

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So finally after a long hiatus I went back to Manny's last Saturday for karaoke and just in time as I believe they are now going on hiatus too as summer is here and it's just too hot to be out there in that patio. However this past weekend we got a brake on the hot weather and it was actually a very enjoyable afternoon. It was nice to see not all but some of my karaoke friends and I even sang three songs. Karaoke and singing in church are two different things. OK singing is singing but not really.

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Wow! Now that is a car seat.
This is Laila Graciela, the youngest of my grandkids or as I call her number 10. OK not really, I don't call her that but she really is my grand baby number 10.

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Atalie meets her great grandma for the first time.
It was love at first sight.

It is getting to a point when images like this are priceless. Give Atalie a month and my mom won't be able to carry them any more. So, she was very happy to be able to have her in her arms on this particular day.

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Humm! I wonder what she meant with this?

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Lurking in the Octopus's Garden

The Portland hawks have fledged, and although one seems to be having problems with city life, their day-to-day novelas are now offscreen. Adios, I said. Be fruitful and multiply. And watch out for that rush-hour traffic.

Now my friend Sue has discovered the Octocam, at the Hatfield, OR Marine Sciences Visitors' Center. This time it's a giant Pacific Octopus named Derik, and he's just as interesting as the hawks. This is nothing like watching grass grow. Best of all, he won't be flying out of camera range.

I snapped a couple of shots just for a teaser. Unlike the massive VW-size critters in the horror movies, this "giant" has a torso the size of a volleyball, and tenacles about 2.5 feet long. When visitors approach the glass of his aquarium he slips off to the side out of camera range, then when they walk away, he slides a couple of tenacles out, then gracefully glides across the screen, spreading out in all his glory.


If you crave a little more excitement, catch Deriq at feeding time, 1:00pm Pacific Time on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays. When he sees his food, he changes colors!  I think I'll set my kitchen timer so I don't miss it. 

A speedbump on life's road

I like to say I don't choose favorites between my dogs, but how could I help but favor my birthday pup, Chica, who loves to chase balls, cuddles up with us in bed, and follows me around like a shadow? Our other dog, Sofia, is 13 and acts very much like the crochety little old lady she is. She "vants to be alone." But she's sturdy and healthy, which, it turns out, Chica is not.

We got Chica on my birthday three years ago and never regretted it, even now when things are getting complicated.


We first noticed the limp when we took the dogs to the Soggy Peso on the beach about a month ago. As we headed back to the car, Chica was freewheeling , her left hind leg (driver's side, the Capt called it) not hitting the sand. We figured she stepped on something sharp and looked for a cut but the paw was undamaged. The only unusual occurrence at the beach was her encounter with a baby mastiff that sent her into a fit of hysterical barking, but we never saw any physical contact between them.

Fast forward a month. She's still limping even though she otherwise behaves normally. Still wants to chase balls, doesn't seem to be in pain. The local vet X-rayed her and said she might have what's called a luxated patella, a condition not uncommon in small dogs. The patella is a tiny crescent-shaped bone attached to the inner socket of the fibula, and Chica's has become dislocated, causing discomfort when the knee is in use. He sent us to a high-tech vet in Obregon (over an hour's drive) for a more informed opinion. We drove there yesterday.

Dr. Hiram in Obregon looked over the ex-ray, manipulated the leg and told us she not only has a luxated patella in the knee but some problem there that he can't see in the X-ray. Plus there's a malformation in the ball-shaped top of the femur where it meets hip socket. He could operate on the hip, but first we should consult a orthopedic specialist he knows in Nogales about the knee.


He also said an MRI scan would give us a better view of the knee problem, and we might have to find a veterinary hospital in the States for that. He added that the right leg wasn't normal either. My heart sank.

Back home, the Capt researched veterinary MRI resources and found one in New Hampshire for $1,295. We're getting to that discussion pet owners always have. Our funds are limited, and there's no question that we have to draw the line somewhere in determining how much we can afford to spend on pet health care. So far we've agreed on one thing: we'd take her for treatment anywhere in Mexico...Guadalajara, Mexico City, even Yucatan...rather than using a vet in the U.S.


Without knowing the knee issue, we don't know if it will get worse or continue as is. There's no swelling, and she doesn't put her weight on it, which makes us wonder if it will remain the same.  I'm guessing the supportive tendons and muscles in the right leg could develop more to compensate, maybe enough to make up for its less-than-perfect state. Or is that wishful thinking?


We see three-legged dogs and free-wheelers all over Mexico,  most functioning normally. Last week I saw one happily chasing a frisbee on the beach, keeping up remarkably with her four-legged playmates.  If we were Mexican the decision would probably be to leave her alone. Avoid the MRIs, the surgeries, the endless vet appointments. Be grateful it's not worse.


But we'll take her to the doctor in Nogales before making a decision, and keep the door open to possible solutions. And keep throwing the ball for her.

Tidbits From Here and There

A little princess I tell ya!
It's finally here, oh yes I was missing it but at the same time I was a little happy it was late in showing up, but after this Sunday we can no longer ignore that the triple digits mean heat. Yes, it is hot in Phoenix and the swimming pool is almost swimable (if that's a word). We should be enjoying it by this Friday. Yey!

But in my case that also means less bike rides. I may or may not venture at least one day riding to work, remember the asphalt is hotter than the actual temperature so riding in 110 degree weather is really like riding in 120 degrees. Yikes! (I spelled it correctly, right Nikki?).

So, last Saturday Alayna had her dance recital. She looked so pretty in her bright yellow outfit, and looked like the little princess (or as she says, "Princesa")that she is. Mr. Diego had a flower for her which he held through the whole show. By the way, Diego was shouting at the older girls instead of the youngest ones. Ummm! Poor, flower I thought it wouldn't survive, but it did. She of course being as girly as she is was happy to get it.

Here Diego is holding that poor little flower. It survived and Alayna was happy.
I am sure there are more things going on these days but for the most part nothing out of the ordinary. So, I will leave you with some more images from past days.

Alayna is the one in the front at the left.
Of course she had to pose with grandpa and Diego.
And a kiss for good luck, instead of break a leg. It worked because she did great.
Here is the whole family.
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