Although I am preparing for my trip to Miami on Tuesday, the routine this morning was just more of the same; but more. I drank some coffee (Mexican of course; Chiapas specifically) while I had a long distance chat with an old buddy of mine who ironically teaches economics at the very same university that he flunked, or almost flunked out of, almost 40 years ago. He was one of my comrade-in-arms, like The (infamous)  No-Eyes during those 5 [very] wasted semesters that started back in the winter of ’75.

I had huevitos in salsa verde, frijoles, and fresh tortillas at Gaby’s. I always eat breakfast at her place because she makes her own tortillas one at a time and hands me each one fresh off the grill. Delicious.

I washed some clothes which doesn’t sound like a big deal until you understand that I wash all of my clothes by hand. There might be a lavenderia down the street but I’ve got a washtub out back and a terrace on the 3rd floor with a couple of clotheslines and all my neighbors wash their clothes by hand so why not me? And it’s not like I own a lot of clothes: 6 t-shirts, 4 pair of shorts, 2 pair of blue jeans, 3 sweaters, 6 pair of boxer shorts, a raincoat, a knit hat, and flannel pajama bottoms for those especially cold mornings. I don’t mind washing my clothes by hand but I hate washing sheets. Too hard to wring out.

I met Manolo for coffee on the plaza at 10:30. We laughed and talked for an hour; speaking with at least a dozen people who were wandering by that stopped to say hello.

I picked up my sahara sandals branded t-shirts that were 3 days late but nicely silk-screen printed and thankfully delivered just under the wire. My 60 pair of sandals that I ordered before Christmas were due today but won’t actually be finished until tomorrow. Not surprising, this is Mexico after all.

I bought packing materials from La Burra yesterday so tomorrow will be packing day. The wonderful lady (Tere) who lives 4 doors down will watch my house and water my plants, so I am good there. One of Manolo’s brothers drives a cab so it’s been arranged that he’ll pick me up at 6 am day after tomorrow and deliver me to the airport up in Guadalajara.

All this might sound easy to you but there have been many fine details that needed to be addressed to allow for these items that I just described that constitute the broad strokes.

I told a buddy back in California a couple of days ago during a Skype conversation that I am in so far in over my head that a more sensible person would weep and go running and screaming off into the night.

I am not the person to sell sandals. And I am not the person with the skills to build a business. Unfortunately I like sandals. Especially my sandals. And I think, ‘May God help this poor fool’.

PS – Coming back from the Mercado where I took my lunch (beef vegetable soup) this afternoon, I happened upon a couple coming down Victoria St. followed by the smallest dog I have ever seen in my entire life. It was a 2 month old Chihuahua that wasn’t much bigger than a Chipmunk. It wasn’t on a leash and was following along behind its masters like it knew its business. The incongruity of its seeming maturity and the tiny size of the thing made me smile.

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