Ready for Santa!

Wookie Wishing for a Smokie Bone from Santa!

Michelle - My Christmas Snowmen In Mexico!



Death by Papaya .................

A close call to say the least.......................
The other morning sitting on our verhandah having our usual 6 am coffee - still dark outside, dogs all out in the yard  - we  heard a huge crash!  We could see all the hounds out the front and couldn't figure out what was going on.  Greg went out and checked the yard and there it was..............our huge Papaya tree just off our patio in the backyard had crashed to the ground.  It was quite the mess.  A very large branch ladden with not yet ripe papaya fruit had ripped away.  Our patio table sits right near where the branch came down and luckly I was not in my usual chair!!  That darn thing crashed right on to where my chair was positioned! 
Greg was laughing saying that he would have written the obituary to read - " Wife dies in Mexico - Papaya Tree Incident - No Crime involved!!"
Here's the aftermath!

Augie Doggie

Of the many things I absolutely love about Mexico and our new home here, there is one thing that continues to astound and disgust me.  So many people come down here to stay for the winter months and head right over to one of the local shelters and get a dog (for free!), they keep the dog while they are here and then discard them when they decide to go back home north of the border.  Mexican families are finding it hard to continue to feed their children and themselves and many times cannot keep their dogs.
Instead of taking the dogs back to a shelter or trying to re home the poor thing, they simply drive to a subdivision and open the car door.
This is true of yet another little creature that showed up at our gate last week crying and starving.  The little dog is only 2 months old, a baby and unable to survive on it's own for long.  Yep, open the gate, take it in.  We will keep "Oliver" until we can find him a good loving permanent home.
Ok, now that makes 6!  Nuts I know but how could you possibly turn away such a poor little thing.
Oliver has taken to the pack very well and is a mix of schnauzer and basset hound - he reminds us of Augie Doggie and Doggie Daddy......if you remember the cartoon from our childhood.
Here's Oliver.........

Planting and Christmas Decor!

I haven't blogged in awhile.  Been busy.  After a great visit back home with my family, I'm back here in sunny Mexico.  A strange day yesterday...............we have just completed putting in a new garden bed across the back of our property.   Spent the moring  planting palm trees and other exotic greenery, pruning the many 7' high poinscetita bushes around our yard.  After that was finished, I suddenly felt Christmasy and moved my efforts inside.  Dragged out the Christmas ornaments from the garage and proceeded to decorate the house.  Lights, Santas, Garland..............it's all up.
Feels very wierd to be gardening one minute in 75 degree weather and putting up little Santas and Snowman the next!
Christmas in Mexico will be a new experience for sure!  I couldn't help going on the weather network website this morning to check out the temps back home.  I see Gravenhurst is having it's first blast of the nasty stuff!  Won't be missing that!!
All for now
xoxo

In Case You Missed This Toronto Star Article!

Peaceful Canadian port thrives amid a Mexican drug war...............

About eight years ago, Burlington residents Julianne and Chisholm Lyons moved to a small village called Ajijic about an hour outside of Guadalajara. It is said to have one of the largest Canadian ex-pat communities in the world, with an estimated 8,000 Canucks. At 84, Chisholm is co-president of the Canadian Club. Julianne, 80, a former Etobicoke city councillor, is organizing a music festival featuring Canadian musicians.

Robyn Doolittle/Toronto Star

AJIJIC, MEXICO — Every inch of Julianne and Chisholm Lyons’ two-storey Mexican casa is adorned with mementos from their exotic travels. An antique door from Indonesia. Colourful photos of Thailand. Artwork from China. But tucked away in a little corner of their dining room is a keepsake from Canada: a framed photo of their old Burlington home, buried one foot in snow. “Just a little reminder that we live in paradise,” said 80-year-old Julianne, a former Etobicoke city councillor. “Not that we would forget it.” “Paradise” is not a word used by too many to describe Mexico these days, not with more than 40,000 deaths attributed to the country’s drug wars over the last five years. A couple of fatal shootings linked to organized crime happened just a few weeks ago in this otherwise charming lakeside village about an hour outside of Guadalajara on Lake Chapala. The violence seems far removed from the world of the Lyons, who moved to Ajijic eight years ago, lured by its cobblestone streets, gentle pace of life and authentic Mexican vibe. In fact, Ajijic has been luring snowbirds from the United States and Canada since the 1970s and is believed to be the largest concentrated community of expat Canadians in the world. The local Canadian Club estimates 8,000 Canucks — just over half of the village’s population — call Ajijic home most of the year. Like everyone in Ajijic, the Lyons are defensive about how Mexico is being portrayed around the world. A recent story that appeared in the Dallas Morning News, which suggested cartels are moving in on the Chapala area, has the entire village incensed. Those in this retirement community make the eyebrow-raising argument that the vast majority of Mexico is safer than Toronto. The Lyons’ home is in a gated corner of town, but most of the houses in Ajijic aren’t. Etobicoke resident Tom Gladney said a gate isn’t needed. “People have this very wrong perception of Mexico,” said Gladney, 70, a former executive with Eaton’s. “My son will call and say: ‘How are you doing down there in that third world country?’ and I’ll say: ‘Sorry, can’t talk to you right now. I’m going grocery shopping at Costco.’” Speaking en route to her morning yoga class, Torontonian Cece Girling, a charismatic former fashion businesswoman, said the cartel rumours are overblown. “A few years ago, yes some businesses were getting calls — give us money and we’ll protect you. But that happens. The expats are protected because, well, the drug cartels don’t speak English and the Spanish just hang up,” she said, making a left-hand turn at the new mostly English-language movie theatre. There are subtle signs of the Great White North everywhere in this community. The supermarket imports authentic maple syrup. There’s an English-language library with 25,000 books. Satellite television picks up Toronto news stations. A popular local pub hosts Hockey Night on Thursdays. (No Canadian beer on tap unfortunately.) There’s even a Wal-Mart. Every day here feels like late spring. Warm enough to swim — which is good since almost everyone has a pool — but cool enough to spend the entire day outside. • Photos: Meet the expats in Ajijic, Mexico When 84-year-old Chisholm fell gravely ill with colon cancer, the couple didn’t consider for a moment heading back to Canada. The Lyons pay about $1,200 a year to be part of Mexico’s socialized health care, but to battle Chisholm’s cancer, they decided to use the private system. Between the X-rays, biopsies, MRIs and eight months of chemotherapy — which included a doctor driving from Guadalajara to Ajijic each week to administer the treatment — the total bill was just over $30,000. “The standard of care here is first-rate. The hospitals are incredible. The doctors are world class. I was very, very sick,” said Chisholm, a former corporate lawyer with an MBA from Harvard. His cancer is gone. The cost of real estate in the Chapala area had been steadily climbing until 2010. Then the Mexican drug war exploded. Safety fears combined with the American recession has ground the market to a standstill. Sales are down more than 25 per cent. It takes a certain kind of person to pick up and move to Mexico, so the cast of characters in Ajijic is predictably impressive. There are world-renowned architects, designers, and artists, high-powered lawyers, a fashion editor and an Olympic figure skater. Engineers, entrepreneurs and corporate executives. Most are retired and eager to redirect their talents. Donations from expats in Ajijic support about four orphanages, a school for deaf and disabled children, the Lake Chapala Red Cross, and various arts programs. Nicholas Favian, a bartender at Salt & Pepper tavern who commutes to Ajijic from Guadalajara every day, says the expats are good for the area. “The tourism is important for this area. They stimulate the economy. They go out more than locals and they tip more. A Canadian will go out four or five times a week. Locals will go out once a week,” said Favian. And so far, locals have not been shut out from buying homes. The cost of real estate is high for the elaborate villas favoured by expats, but typical Mexican homes are still affordable and are passed down through the generations. Because the cost of living is so much less, Canadians are able to afford luxuries they might not be able to at home. Mexican maids are paid about $1.50 (Canadian) an hour in Guadalajara. In Ajijic, expats pay about $5 an hour — still a fraction of the cost. In Ajijic, about $420,000 will get you three bedrooms, four baths, a pool with a waterfall, fireplace, purified water system and fully-equipped gourmet kitchen. For the Lyons, the only thing that’s missing in Mexico is their children. They have seven, plus four grandchildren. “All I can say is thank goodness for the Internet,” said Julianne. “And you know they’re getting close to retirement too. We’re not pushing it. We’re not even mentioning it, but — well — wouldn’t that be lovely.”

Animal Comparisons!

Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. If you lie down with dogs, you’ll wake up with fleas. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander...

A dirty rat. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.  Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Don’t make a mountain out of a mole hill.. All bark and no bite.

 Stubborn as a mule. When the cows come home. It’s raining cats and dog-  You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. As little as a tad pole .Quiet as a mouse. Slippery as an eel. Slow as a turtle.  Sly as a fox.  Bats in the belfry. Blind as a bat. An old bat.  Like water off a duck’s back.

Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noon-day sun. So hungry I could eat a horse.   A fly on the wall. The wise old owl. Silly as a goose. Strong as an ox. Gentle as a lamb.  Proud as a peacock. Liike a bull in a china shop. The early bird gets the worm.   Just ducky.   Happy as a clam . A memory like an elephant.  A cat on a hot tin roof.  Let sleeping dogs lay.  More fun than a barrel of monkeys.  A social butterfly.

Raining cats and dogs. A frog in my throat. Off like a herd of turtles. Don’t want to hear another peep out of you. When pigs fly. I smell a rat -  Crows Feet -  Pigheaded.  I was buffaloed. Snug as a bug in a rug. An eager beaver. 

It's funny how often we compare ourselves or others to animals...........these are a few that come to mind..........

Cheers!! 

How Old is Too Old to Move to Mexico............an inspiring story

A Heartwarming Story from one of our local writers!  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did.  It just goes to show, Attitude is Everything!!

 

How Old Is Too Old To Move To Mexico? By Bob Dietz My 91-year-old father, Ray, sold his Florida condo and asked to move to the La Floresta Convalescent Home. It is seven blocks from my home in Ajijic. This is the story of that transition. I flew to Gainesville, Florida to pick up a man who had consolidated all of his worldly possessions into a bank account and one checked bag. That’s a lesson in reverse materialism. Our departure day featured tornado warnings and no plane was allowed to fly. We patiently waited in this snack bar airport for eight hours. My dad and I, and his trusty walker, stuck in airport hell. I’m waiting for complaints. But not one was uttered from his now parched lips. He seems to enjoy this unavoidable delay. After the TSA groping, eight hours of waiting provides a perfect opportunity for a father and son to do a lot of catching up. Four bags of peanuts, one hamburger and three sodas later, the skies cleared and we apprehensively boarded the aircraft. He’s excited, but looks spent. But wait, is that the voice of an angel I hear? It’s the strawberry blond stewardess asking for volunteers to unbuckle, deplane, and be regally rewarded to help solve what has become an overbooking situation. This is going to be a test for him for sure. Just how much adventurous spirit does he have? Since I had no way to measure that, I simply said paradise looks better in the daylight. It can wait a day. So we dragged our disappointed bodies back into the airport and stood in line for another hour with two nurses who shared our plight, and waited to be compensated. After spending the entire day in anticipation of his first flight since being in a World War II military plane 72 years ago, our progress is only fifty feet closer to Guadalajara. But still no complaint. Does this man have patient Mexican blood in his veins? He leans over to tell me that the two nurses want us to join them for dinner at the hotel restaurant. O.K. now tell me you’ve been on a double date with your father? How do I explain this to my wife? Yeah honey, I couldn’t help it, my father was just a bad influence. Why do I keep visualizing Rickey Ricardo saying, “Lucy ju got sum splainin to do.” After a very enjoyable dinner with our escorts and repeated assurances that the $400 each, gorgeous hotel suite and dinner was complimentary, he just floored me. He whispered, “ If the airline offers you this again tomorrow take it.” This isn’t aviation hell, he`s having a great time. What happened to the North American rush, rush, don`t let anything get in my way? Has this gringo achieved a more laid-back Mexican attitude before we’ve even made an approach landing on Mexican soil? Fifteen minutes after we were airborne, he asked me,” How does the pilot put the brakes on and stop the plane in midair?” What? We are flying at 600 miles per hour. He thought we were sitting still in midair. I guess avionics have greatly improved since World War II. The retirement home had permitted us to paint and decorate his pool view room prior to his arrival. So he was pleased upon seeing his new digs. The love and care of the management and staff has to be experienced to be truly appreciated. In his first three weeks in Mexico, he reversed most of the ill effects of self-neglect. The cans and microwave diet was replaced with fresh food prepared by a loving cook. His ankle swelling disappeared in one week. Yeah, dad you can stop taking the Prilosec, heartburn medicine you’ve taken for three years too. The expectations of daily showering and clothes changes was instituted by the staff. A wonderful, and caring doctor injected some medicine into his hip joint and he parked the walker and started using just a cane. Even in Mexico, where ingenuity is highly regarded, his pants with the big yellow paper clip in place of the broken zipper, will not be considered stylish. New pants, a successful trip to the dentist and optician and he has completed a makeover that even Oprah’s producers would envy. How did all this happen so efficiently? Didn’t his age hamper things? No, it was all his attitude. It seems attitude is more important than age. I saw him even reach for the hot sauce yesterday. Dad, you are one cool gringo and even though I’ve lived here three years, thanks for teaching me to be more Mexican. Did we answer the question of how old is too old to move to Mexico? Maybe not, but we now know the bar has been raised to north of 91 years old!! A really good story............ Now, how about you?  Are you ready to experience a new life in a great new place??  We are only here on this planet for a short time, what are you waiting for?  Maybe this posting just might inspire you to take the leap.  Hope to see you soon, Lori