Thursday, May 26, 2011


If our intention was to expedite our departure from this place (this house, this town, this state, this...country?) we haven't been making much progress recently. One step forward, three back. Among the activities that are creating a diversion/distraction from making any big changes occur are fostering a dog in need from the rescue folks we usually deal with, and embarking on a nasty irrigation and landscape upgrade that has dragged on for weeks past the imagined completion date. That's Minnie the foster gal on the left - a nice girl soon to be spayed while in our care.

The irrigation and landscape ordeal has been the result of what we imagined was a well-thought-out strategic move that would allow us to get out and travel and explore without the burdens of hand-watering this high-maintenance property. In hindsight, we probably should have just bailed on the place and saved the considerable dollars and spared ourselves the horror of witnessing the massive destruction and lingering unfinished work as the weeks passed. I also didn't anticipate the many residual tasks that will rmain for me after the contractor circus leaves our property. I can only hope that the finished project with all the raw unhealed areas will add to rather than detract from any potential sale if we extricate ourselves from this place finally.

Of course, common wisdom would suggest that in order to leave here, we must have a destination where we might arrive. But ah, no, that would be too simple.



It seems our lovely country has a desperate lack of architects and builders capable of producing homes that are not hideous abominations, bedecked by acres of wall-to-wall carpet, shoddy materials, grotesque pseudo-spa bath suites, and vast swaths of water and labor wasting lawns. Adding to the inherent defects are usually years of eccentric occupancy by previous owners during which they may have applied nightmarish wallpaper and paint, embarked on all manner of ill-advised and poorly executed home 'improvements', and nursed the infrastructure into a state of imminent collapse such that the first year(s) of next-ownership is/are likely to involve a fleet of service vehicles lining up around the block as plumbers, roofers, appliance sellers/service, arborists, tile refurbishers, deck/window/door/fence contractors, painters, landscapers, electricians, and assorted handy-persons of varying competency and veracity draw you into expensive and stressful participation in what is known as The Service Economy. Order extra checks. Lower your standards of craftsmanship and reliability. Ponder the fiction that is the Joy of Home Ownership. I guess this is a long way of saying that we haven't identified a destination home to replace this one. Or town. Or state.

Loyal or long time readers here may recall that a shiny new life in Mexico was the inspiration for this blog in the first place. And that may still be the best path forward.

Pues, el diablo está en los detalles...

If we sell this place before we have a replacement, we need to first sell, donate, discard, or store every item we have accumulated over the decades. Or get a housemate/sitter/renter to look after things. Or simply button it up and leave it unoccupied for some period of time, then face the challenges of disposal later. For various reasons, none of these options seem very appealing. Common wisdom is that one should visit and rent for some period of time in Mexico before committing to a purchase. A fine idea for a kid closing out his dorm room following graduation, or a townhouse/apartment dweller on the move.

Not that we can't figure out something. As I opened with, the first order of business is perhaps to discontinue the introduction of distracting and resource-depleting activities. Concentrate on thinning out the posessions and making the house ready for sale.

I have several very low-level conflicts in play here, trying to decide a way forward. Among them, I value a simple, uncomplicated, quiet, peaceful, low stress life in pleasant surroundings. Being uprooted and shoved forward into unknown circumstances is not necessarily simple, uncomplicated, quiet, peaceful, or low stress. The new surroundings may or may not be pleasant. Of course, rumor has it that much of this is largely a matter of perception, and self-discipline.

I also crave something rewarding and meaningful to be engaged with. A renewed associated with aviation? The arts? Probably not information technology, as I am weary of all manner of techno-grandiosity. To continue with work means finding a place in the U.S. (that is not in Colorado) with a tolerable seasonal and social climate, factoring in things like crime, traffic, various other quality-of-life matters and cost of living. Then trying to pry my age-discriminated carcass into a workplace. Or sufficient belt-tightening to accept retirement and probably try to work as an artist with no goal of producing income.

In Mexico, conventional work is not an option. However, there is better/affordable/accessible health care, less hustle, and an abundance of cultural magic. Many regions offer a decent climate yet are afordable. While homes are often humble, they are not disgusting in the manner of much of the U.S. residential stock. I could resume my efforts there with oil painting, and consider it a job I suppose.

I've even imagined what life in an RV full time would be like, out of here, but taking time to see what presents itself, since no one arrangement seems to present a clearly superior or compelling opportunity.

Well, I started out just to post a status update, since it's been several weeks without anything new here, but ended up with an unfocused self-indulgent rant. It's been a frustrating couple of weeks. Stick with me - I'll try to do the same.




Wednesday, May 11, 2011


It's been a hard week here - the landscape guy started installing the lines for the sprinkler/irrigation system, and it was a more destructive and brutal process than I had imagined. I found myself feeling really stupid for ever thinking this project would be a good idea. In general, I have a firm belief that there is almost NO project that is a good idea. Projects are an example of my suspicion that 90% of what people find to occupy their time and spend (waste) their money on is of no value at all - the remaining 10% is mostly destructive to themselves and others, with just a tiny fraction proving to be worthy of their efforts.




The work outside was conceived of as a way for us to be freer to travel a little more often and for longer periods of time, without the worry that lawn and landscape would suffer from lack of hand-watering attention during the summer and fall months in this rather arid climate.

I do hope that as this landscape installation proceeds and wraps up that I will feel more optimistic about the outcome. However, in the meantime there are still small signs of beauty and wonder around the house if one looks, and it never hurts to fill the house with the smell of fresh-baked banana bread when the scent of despair is in the air...

Sunday, May 08, 2011


Well, it's been a long hard day, but it's still Mothers Day, and I want to get a few photos up to honor my Mom, and formalize my remembrance of her.

We were much alike in many ways, and while I have to deal with some inherited traits from my Dad as well, most of what I think Mom passed along has served me better. Flower and vegetable gardening, art, appreciation for vintage things, cooking, reading, love of animals - many of the areas that give meaning to my life and provide me with the means to serve others in various ways.

Mom took me to the library early and often. I remember her always having a wall full of books as I grew up, and a diverse collection of some intellectual substance. After I moved away from home, she gave me a copy of Joy of Cooking, which still serves me well, and remains the only cookbook on my kitchen counter.

Like everyone in our family, she wasn't very expressive with her feelings (expect perhaps exasperation). Her enjoyment of solitude is a characterstic I share and appreciate increasingly as the years pass.

I am sad that I didn't have more time with her. She passed at a younger age than I am now, a sobering thought in itself, and before I reached a level of experience with relationships that might have allowed me to share more with her emotionally in a way that I'm quite sure would have been very beneficial for both of us.

I could go on - who couldn't about their fondness and rich memories of their mother. For now though, I'll just offer her this brief tribute and keep her in my thoughts as this troubled day unwinds.