Cat Litter and a New Car

Andrea asked me to drive to Queretaro with her, to pick up some things for her clients. I didn’t really need anything from Queretaro so I called Rod and asked if he needed anything. Cat litter from Costco. So off we went.

I left Costco with only the cat litter and a new DVD. My cheapest trip to Queretaro ever.

Andrea and I climbed into the Pathfinder and I turned the key. It wouldn’t start. This has happened before. All the dash lights turn on but not the engine. Nothing. Not a sound. And then, after a number of tries, it starts and doesn’t have a problem again for months. I’ve talked with the folks at the repair shop and they say that they cannot diagnose the problem except when it is happening. “What if I’m stuck out at some ranch?” I asked. “Call us, we’ll come.” (Yeah, but what if I don’t have cell phone coverage?) Whatever. I’m pretty sure it is a problem with the ignition and I should probably just have it changed as a pre-emptive strike.

As before, after a number of tries, it starts as if there is no problem. I turned to Andrea. “We leaving Friday for Mexico City and then on to New York. I can’t take this car. What if it craps out on me someplace on the road, we get stuck and miss our flight? It will screw up our whole Christmas.”

“Let’s go buy a new car!” Andrea said.

“I thought you had to buy fabric.”

“I can come back later this week and do it. Let’s buy a new car. You worked hard for your money. You deserve it. When was the last time you bought a brand new car?”

“17 years ago.”

“There, you see? It is not like you’ve been extravagant. Yea! It’s time for a new car! Call Paola. She has a Nissan X-Trail. That’s the car you want, right? She’ll know where the dealer is in Queretaro.”

(I’ve found that Andrea is very good at helping other people spend their money.)

Paola did, in fact, know exactly where the dealership was and was delighted to meet us there as she wanted us to drive a friend back to San Miguel.

Long story short (too late for that now, right?), I bought the car. That week included a banking holiday so I had to do some fancy footwork in order to get the money together. The salesman delivered it to the ranchito on Thursday and I drove him to the bus station for his return trip. Then, on Friday, I needed to get the car registered, get license plates (Mexico City’s smog prevention program does not allow cars without plates to drive in Mexico City on Friday’s and two of our planned travel days were Fridays) as well as a smog certification (required every six months here). We were able to ask for plates with no circulation on Wednesdays, and managed to pull it all off in the morning and departed for Mexico City that evening.

Given that I’m afraid to drive in Mexico City, you can imagine how white knuckled I was, as Rod drove my brand new car across town to the hotel. He did a fine job I think. My eyes were closed most of the time.

Birthday Party

Given that our birthdays are only eight days apart, we planed a joint birthday party. Turning 47 is not a monumental birthday mark, however, turning 30 is. I therefore had to defer to Rodrigo in terms of planning the event. Much to my chagrin, he wanted a “Drag Queen, Drag King” theme.

I was less than enthused, probably because I’m too old to be a pretty woman and if one is going to do it, one should do it right. Right? So I decided to take the easy road and be a nun. Nothing to shave, no makeup, easy. Rod, on the other hand, took to watching Cher’s farewell tour DVD for his inspiration.

Begrudgingly (on my part), we set off for Queretaro to pick out our fabrics. Once inside the fabric store I began to get into the whole idea as we found one crazy fabric after another, and dirt cheap.

Andrea turned us on to a seamstress and we took her our fabric and photos of our ideas. (I just had to look up “Nun costumes” on the internet for my photos. Rod had to stand in front of the TV, pause the Cher DVD and take photos with the digital camera.) I think Liz, the seamstress, really enjoyed the project. It was certainly more creative and interesting than her normal jobs. And her 11-year-old daughter stood by at each fitting, fascinated by the whole concept.

I have to admit, the party was a smashing success. Even the straight boys went all out, although most made for some pretty ugly women. And the girls comparing their make-shift bulges were hysterical. One guy made his entire dress completely out of glad trash bags. We gave first and second place awards in each category and one bar owner who attended, wanted us to do it again the following week. (Probably at his bar given how much he saw everyone drink.)

As for the rest, a few photos speak volumes.

Angels and Insects

Wasp nest in back yard

I was sitting on the front patio, reading, when I noticed a swarm of flies invading. It was small at first, and then began to build. I quickly realized that they were not flies at all, but small black wasps. Within seconds I was driven into the house as the swarm intensified and they began building a nest on the beam in the corner.

This was not the first time. About a year ago I returned from the states to find a nest already constructed in the same location. Rod had tried smoking them out with a chiminea, but to no avail. We were forced to abandon the front porch and use the back door. (We also had to keep an eye on our dog Evita because she likes to eat the wasps even though they sting her in the mouth. I guess she thinks they’re spicy.)

“You need to spray them with soapy water,” was Andrea’s advice, “Then run like hell.”

So last year I put on my top coat, gloves and a hat, loaded the “Super Soaker” with soapy water, launched my attack and ran like hell. The nest was instantly demolished but to my surprise, reconstruction began immediately. It was like a neighborhood barn raising, as if all the neighboring wasps dropped by to help rebuild. It was Maria, our maid, who found the solution by spraying the beam with Raid through the window screen.

So this year I went straight to my “Service Advertisement” file and found an exterminator. But when I returned I found Maria on the patio, towel over her head, mopping the beam with soapy water. Who needs an exterminator when one had a brave maid?

A couple of days later, while pruning a tree, I found the huge nest you see in the photo. It is difficult to get the perspective in the photo but I was not about to stick my hand up there. It is far enough away from the house that we have an agreement, they don’t bother me and I won’t bother them.