A joke

Most houses here in Vallarta have names, and it is even more important when your street address is, like in my case, totally incomprehensible to Mexicans ( try to explain who Ava Gardner is/was.. and then try to spell it ) .
I decided for a joke to name my house The Dog House
Only in Danish
and only to add to the confusion.
Dogs bark the same in all countries, what do they care.

On Blogging

When I first started my blog, I thought it was just going to be my thoughts shared by me with my family and a few close friends.
And this is not quite the way it works; The more one blogs, the greater the need to know that somewhere someone is reading your ramblings and, hopefully, liking them.
But the only way you will ever, ever know, is if that someone sitting somewhere reading your blog, posts a comment.
Admittedly it is not always easy to share a comment. Some blogs are darn difficult to enter. I once spent hours getting legitimized so I could post a comment on a blog. I never went back. But it is always a thrill when you suddenly see that someone has posted a comment.
This is my way of saying thanks to the people who not only read my blog, but who take the time to comment.

A new Career

It happened again.
I had finished a blog and did the obligatory spell-check, as my typing sucks and my spelling is not far behind.
And no yellow highlights.
No way, thought I, no way are there no mistakes, so I tried again and
POOOF
the post disappeared, and the more I tried to get it back, the more frustrated I became.
It was gone.
I took ten deep breaths, and one more for good measure and said to myself:
Self, there's got to be something positive in this.
And then I had my epiphany.
If George Bush can be "The Decider", then I, who can make posts disappear, will be "The Disappearer".
I can lease my services to CIA and FBI and Karl Rove and Alberto Gonzales
and the silliness about nothing is ever truly lost from a computer
HA
they haven't met "The Disappearer" yet. With the "Madsen Magic Touch" I can rule the world of lost posts and emails.
The only problem is to advertise my services, because sure as manure the ad will follow all the lost posts.
Ah Well, it was a nice thought.

The Saga of the Tree With Yellow Flowers

In spring when driving to town, Chuck and I always loved to watch a tree by Garza Blanca which was covered in yellow flowers. One year we stopped after the flowering and picked up a seed pod, a strange longish sausage thing. From that we grew two trees and we were eagerly waiting for the trees to mature and produce flowers.
Well, Chuck died before they got that big, and their first time they had but a few flowers, and something must have alerted all the leaf-and-flowers eating insects and what-nots in the neighborhood to come and enjoy this new treat. The trees were stripped down to bare branches.
But this year we managed to produce the flowers, and what a wonderment; luscious grape shaped clusters of yellow flowers, right here, right in my own back yard.
If only Chuck could have seen it.

Eating Out

I don't much care for eating out, but " The Dames Who Rescue dogs " and I have lately gotten together for a couple of lunches.
Lunches, because we are all of an age, and having lunch leaves you with time for the real important stuff, such as feeding your animals and watching the news.
Rita, the other half of the rescue dames, has seven dogs in her house. ( she has a very big house ) .
So we have gathered at Inge's for lunches in the sun. The only problem is that Guadalupe, Inge's maid/cook has a very limited cooking vocabulary, consisting mostly of lots of oil and high heat, so even the most delicate pieces of fish fillets come out as contenders for shoe leather. How she does it is a mystery to me.
But I feel tremendously safe eating her food. No wayward bacteria or germ will survive her frying.
Maybe I should be grateful for that.
So we eat and gossip and compliment Lupe on her cooking and feel really good that we are so civilized.
And start planning for the next lunch.

Words

I like words. I collect words. I have a little book where I jot down the words that I like.
Some words I like for the sounds, such as
Circumambulate [ to walk around ]
others I like for their meaning, such as
Callipygous [ to have a beautiful behind ]
and then there are the words that express exactly what you are trying to say, as
Forsooth [ in truth indeed ] or finagle [ to trick or swindle ]
Every day I find another word I like, but even the best of the new words are competing with the tried and true, the essence of being human, words such as Peace, Happiness and Love.
But I still collect new words, because aside from peace and love, maybe happiness is variety.
I like words.

Apple Pie

I love apple pie
In the Old country, we have Aeblekage, which is the Danish version of 'something wonderful made with apples', only this is totally different.
And I make a great Tarte Tatin, if I say so myself. But be that as it may
I love American apple pie.
When I first toured with First Chamber Dance Company, we stopped at some out of the way diner in the middle of nowhere, and the waitress, when I asked for desert, said, as I understood her, that they had 'Apple Pie Alamo'.
I had visions of guns and scads of dying Mexicans and smoke and what-all, till I realized that she was telling me they had ' Apple Pie A La Mode' which I learned meant a great big dollop of ice cream on top of said apple pie.
I was sold.
No amount of whipped cream on the ' Aeblekage' will ever compare to the first taste of diner apple pie and runny ice cream.
I love apple pie.