One of the sweet things about my life in Mexico is that I can have fresh coconut water delivered to my door. One can have just about anything delivered. Living in this small beach community is like going back in time. And here, cash is still king. 😎

A Mexico morning is filled with birds cooing, fans a whirling and just now the construction site next door hints of pounding cement walls. It will be a fine day, no matter what. I say so! 😎

Selfie.

I haven’t been doing these morning pages. I am at a loss for words, just kidding. I do not think a Juri would ever be without words. What about listening? It must be a lost art. I know that I am guilty of thinking about what I am going to say next which would leave me unavailable as a listener. I think we have all been guilty of that. I recently read that to truly listen to another person shows a great deal of respect. That person feels seen. Today I am going to practice being a good listener. I have always considered myself to be an open book. It has been said that one leaves no mystery to be uncovered if a person reveals everything about themselves. People don’t really care about my stuff, they care about themselves. So if I can allow someone to be really heard I think that is a good start.

The glass on my 6 year old iPad Pro is separating from the body. I’m winging it ‘cause I want a new iPad anyway. Still I’m a wee bit disappointed.

Say hello to my little friend.

Looking out my front door; my new digs. And I’m closer to the crashing waves. Life is good.

I’m perusing micro.blog tonight because this is where all the adults hang out 😂

view from a path in a small village in the south of france

morning glow

And the beat continues.

I breathe, and the breath of all the ancients mingles with my blood. It warms the fear embedded in my heart. And the blood of my heart…

curses the woes of time bygone and embraces the music of my soul. What can never be forgotten are distant memories, intricately woven and etched deeply in my bones.

It is that soul of me, that chooses not to ignore the past, but to play on the rhythm of the beats within. I listen. Still, there is sorrow.

A seed lightly sewn takes hold and I wonder of healing…

Count me in as one of those to say that “Don’t Look Up” was just brilliant.

Christmas Eve is the event to celebrate here in Mexico. It’s 2 in the morning and I can hear music, fireworks and laughter. Most have had a family dinner and the party continues. One year I saw a Santa in the garbage on Xmas morning; it was quiet, the party was over.

Ah, that sunset glow.

And who doesn’t love flowers?

I took a bike ride today for exercise and captured a peaceful moment.

I was sitting inside the store visiting with my friend Luis when a tiny little girl came in to purchase a diaper. She must have been 3 or 4 years old and alone. Luis asked her what size and she said it was for a baby. He sent her away to find out if it was a small or large one that was needed. She returns a minute later and purchases one small diaper for 5 pesos (about 25 cents). I regret that I didn’t take her picture because she was just too cute. I did get her name. It was Angela Norbeta.

As I stir my favorite brew of morning coffee I am reminded of the first time I drank coffee. I was at a restaurant in Yosemite Valley with friends. Everyone ordered coffee so I did too. I just mimicked others as they doctored up their cups of joe. I opted for just a little bit of sugar and some cream. I liked it. I was officially a coffee drinker from that day on.

Quiet evening in town made it an easy ride about.

Found an old fb post by accident and sharing it again today:

Well, I’ve been busy working and yet, finding the many things to be grateful for each day: A good nights sleep. A pretty drive to work as the vineyards take on fall colors. Leaves a blowin’ and leaves a settling down. Knowing where the only candle I have is when I needed it recently. A good ebook by the candles glow. A trip to Mexico planned and gaining steam, oh boy! Family, friends, life, art, music. Last but not least, sappy, holiday movies. Cheers!

Always a colorful sunset; looking out my window.

I had a chance to practice listening and speaking in Spanish when I conversed with a couple of women at a nearby hotel today. It was just a simple conversation as we talked about where we lived and where we came from. We all laughed when I told them that I was born in San Francisco. What was funny is that the younger woman responded “ah, San Pancho”. A nickname for someone named Francisco is Pancho. I picked up on the joke right away. I thought it was rather clever as I had never heard that one before.

Dining at a local eatery and it was quite yummy.

A view of my town on the lagoon side.

Some day…