fecundity vs ferocity

I checked some plants I have growing in pots and I noticed that some insects had gotten to them and eaten part of their leaves.
Always they find the plants you treasure the most
and yet
it is rare that even bad leaf eating insect attacks will kill the plants. Mame them. yes. Disfigure them, yes. Kill them, not so much.
And that made me think that maybe Mother Nature has a plan that I have failed to see.
It made me wonder if there is some sort of master plan, that in climates like ours where things grow so easily, the fecundity ratio is balanced by the ferocity of the insects
A thought.
A silly thought perhaps, but still.

Anyway. My plants look like Cinderella before the ball.
Now I hope that after some time they will look like her at the ball all spiffy and lovely.

Six States of Drunkenness

On a site that I read frequently, devoted to the joy of words, I came across this little gem.
In includes two important things in my life.....the love of words and the occasional over-indulgence in spirits.

Six States of  Drunkenness

1.  Verbose

2.  Jocose

3.  Morose

4.  Lachrymose

5. Bellicose

6. Comatose

Pretty cool, No!

Once a year, if you live here in Mexico, you have to renew your visa, much like in the old days if you lived in the USA and you had a green card, you had to report your whereabouts once a year.

In the past the immigration service was a very personal thing here, a fiefdom ruled--when I became aware of it--by Alicia.  All the expats knew who Alicia was, and most of them feared her.
In those days she, as head of the immigration service, had unlimited power. If she liked you, you were fine. If not, you might find that your application for a visa had been inexplicably denied.
And then things changed.   Suddenly it was more transparent and Alicia, after heaven only knows how many years in the service, retired and like a retired Washington politician, she became a purveyor of visas to all the people who used to shiver at the mention of her name.

And so here we are, many years later and of a sudden the federal government decides to change the rules again. All for the better, we are told. To make things easier, we are told. To speed up the process, we are told.
HA.

I mistakenly thought that I could squeeze in on the old rules but missed by minutes, so I was sent home to apply again and present myself with the new application post haste.
Which I did.
And things were fine until I had to do the final steps and was informed that the forms needed for completing this procedure were not available. 

Please to check with the office.

 When I was told by email that the forms were ready I again appeared at the office only to be told  that--again--the forms were not available.   Please to check back in 2 weeks.

This simple and silly procedure which I have done for more years than I care to remember is now turning into a living nightmare. I have an upset stomach just writing about it.

That is not a way to live, particularly not for old geezers like me. We need gentle handling we do, we bruise so easily now, and the expiration date is closer and closer.

you see what I mean ?

We all have dates are that are important to us.
Of course we do.
First kiss !  First promise to love forever! Whatever.
Any number of firsts
any number of important dates.
My personal most important date is September 4th 1969
that was when I first met Chuck.
So now, more than forty-three years later what do I think ?
I think that I was one lucky son-of-a-gun to find someone like chuck and to share thirty three years of my life with him.
I miss him tremendously and......no..I do no think that there will ever be be anyone quite like him
certainly not for me
so I go on, honoring his memory and
as long as I can
I will celebrate the 4th of September.
Who else would ?

The end of many books

What could be more devastating for a lover of books than to find that termites had found their way into them and in some instances gutted them entirely.
What ?.
This is what I found to-day when by chance I decided to move a few books in my book case in the bed room.
And what a disaster.
Not only had the buggers gotten into my treasury of books, they had also found and destroyed files about the purchase and creation of the place I call home.
I hate those vile insects.
I hate them almost as much as I hate the ants that will find my few favorite plants and eat all their leafage leaving the poor plants to struggle to survive with a few spikes and very few leaves to give them sustenance.
I hate the stupidity of it, as I hate the stupidity of killing of rhinoceros for their horns and elephants for their tusks.
All just to enhance the lives of a few humans.
I am a good person.
I let the mice/rats cavort in my kitchen at night.
I let the toad/frog into the house in the morning when it decides tthat it must spend the day under my couch.
I am a good person.
So why do termites think that they can invade my territory and destroy my joys in life, my books. Why ?
A pox on all termites and their kin.
And a sad good-bye to some wonderful treasures that have kept me sane these many years I have lived alone in the house on the hill of Mismaloya.
R.I.P.

I did not make a cake for my birthday, in fact I did not even make a special dinner. Things did not work out as planned.
But then I got to thinking that there is no reason why I could not move the celebration to another day, a more convenient day.
People of import do it all the time, moving their birthday celebrations, so why not I ?
And then I started to look for a recipe for a cake. I had a vague recollection of a type using tortillas, a thing I found kind of appropriate for the place where I live.
But then I found a cake recipe calling for chocolate and red wine.
What could be better !
So this is what I will do. I will make  myself a chocolate/red wine cake. I will enjoy it and I will not feel guilty.
Life is to short and shorter when your next birthday is seventy.
Onward with the good stuff, chocolate and wine.

What's in a name

I heard some truck lumbering up my hill and checked--what else do I have to do ? --and LO
is was the gas truck and very much needed it was as I was down to low reading on my gas supply.

Jubilation all around. From me for not having to deal with the office calling to order gas, although they are very good, and i imagine from the truck guys for having a sale making the trucking up my treacherous hill worth it.

And so the little guy made out my bill when they had filled the requested amount.

It could not have been more incorrect, and I loved it.

Alan Madsen had turned into Alad Manset

Ava Gardner 562 turned into Abagarnet # 563

and Lomas del Pacifico was L.del Pasifico.

I think the little guy did well with all these strange names.  I would be lost trying to write many of the names they have here.