I was watching the telly with the window behind me wide open and I was leaning forward to read some subtitles when I heard a thump behind me; a frog had jumped in the window and landed on the pillow behind me.
I looked at it, it looked at me, and this was not my night to be froggie friendly so I took the pillow, frog and all, and shook it out the window.
Gone frog. And I didn't even think to kiss it.
Maybe next time.

Her name was Connie. She was a friend of Rhoda's from Connecticut and like Rhoda, a long term resident of Vallarta.
And she needed some work done, some for her and some for husband, who she described as " a big man " .
I met him; he was short and fat. And Connie and I did not quite hit it off. She had an annoying habit of checking every stitch to see if it was up to her standards.
One time I lost my cool and said to her quietly through gritted teeth as she was checking out some of my work :
Maybe you would like a magnifying glass ?
She looked at me truly dumbfounded and said in her nasal New Yorker accent:
My, you are really sensitive, aren't you !
I decided then and there that it wasn't worth the measly fee to go through this again.
And never did.

So here is how it works.
Every afternoon, about 3:30, I look at the mutts and they look at me and we all know it is getting to be time to get their dinner ready.
What they don't know is that it is also the time I get the carton of Cheap Red Wine out of the cupboard and ready for use.
So as I fix the color coordinated bowls with food for the mutts, I also fix the first glass of wine for self.
And as the mutts clean their bowls, I finish the first of the glasses of Cheap red Wine.
After that I just continue.
That is how it works.

When the mad queen was my neighbor he would take his enormous, black and macho truck for his trips to the local bars and one night, early morning actually, returning from a night of debauchery, he had a flat. This, however, in his inebriated state of mind, was not going to stop him, so he finished the trip driving on the flat tire and that was the end of the truck for a while. It was parked in front of the house and looking like some wounded animal, listing to one side not even having a tire to rest on. I found the tire in the canyon where it ended up after this wild and uncontrolled driving.
Living here one needs transport, so he came to me and asked to borrow my car, right neighborly and all. I said no but I would help out by driving him--and his compatriots--to the store and back. Which I did.
Later I talked to Nicholas my neighbor who also had been approached by The Mad Queen. Nicholas told me he just said NO WAY to the quest for borrowing of a vehicle and that was it. No nampy pampy helping of a unlucky neighbor.
And so I am wondering . Why cannot I be more like Nicolas ?
But then I would not really be me, now would I ?
If the Mad Queen should need help again, as much as I don't care for him, I would still do it.
That is just who I am.