No matter how hard I try...

I am staring at the three storm sites, flipping back and forth trying to find the latest information about IDA. Memories of how quickly Wilma intensified are not buried that deeply, and I am frustrated. I keep expecting to flip to a screen and find the storm no longer on track to hit us. Not that I wish it on anyone else, but geez - I'm not there to help prepare.

I think it's hard for anyone who has never done hurricane preparations to realize just how much work it is to prepare. It's not just boarding up, which in itself is a huge chore. It's bringing in planters and patio furniture, tracking a mess all through the house with water and dirt. It's making sure there is water stored, and food supplies for humans and pets. It's moving anything that can be damaged by water up off the floors. It's trying to keep the outdoor pets close to home so they will be inside during the brunt of the storm. I remember the night before Wilma hit; Loco, who was free to roam in those days, took off down the road and was gone until 1 am. I was frantic until he came back, and he got the leash treatment for the next few hours until we were confined to the indoors.

Miguel has two properties to deal with. He's just one person, anyone who might help him will be busy with their own preparations. I wish I could be there to do the 'bringing' in part, and the food part. Miguel is philosophical - it doesn't matter what gets damaged, it's life that is important. Of course he's right, but I like to think we can protect it all.

But I'm not there to help. I'm supposed to land in Cancun tomorrow at 12:45. I'm betting the flight will be canceled. So here I sit, worried and hoping, knowing there is a hurricane on its way and hoping it will not be a strong one. No matter how hard I try to wish it away, or how many times I change weather stations, that storm is still pointing in our direction. Nuts!

That was the easy part

I am sitting in my living room in Canada, surrounded by a mountain of cd's, power cables, hard drives, and books.

As you may recall, I've been babying my laptop for the last month - trying to keep it running until I was finished working for my client. I succeeded in doing that much, going back to an old drive when the new one bombed out.

Before heading to Canada I did a full backup of the drive I'd been using. I have backups on two different external drives, from various points in time. I really thought I had it covered.

When I got here Tuesday night I showed Miko, my son-in-law, the drive that had bombed out along with my slave cables that I'd not succeeded in getting to work (the cables would power up the drive but my laptop(s) would not recognize that there was anything on the other end of the USB cable). Of course he plugged it all together just as I had, and as soon as he stuck the USB end into his computer, it recognized the drive and starting loading. Sigh...I can't tell you how many times I'd done just that, with more than one laptop...and got no results. I know Miko doesn't believe me, but I swear it's the truth - there just isn't any other way to hook all those cables together.

The only thing we did differently was I was very careful as I handled the drive, barely touching it and trying to make sure I did not zap it with any static or bump it on anything. Miko, in searching for a power outlet, dragged the entire mess across the floor, static mat and carpet to boot, and the thing thrashed around like a fish at the end of a hook. And started up just like it was supposed to. From now on I'm going to abuse my drives, maybe that's what they want!

In the morning I booted up my laptop with the drive that had been working in Mexico, only to be greeted with the miserable "Unmountable boot volume". I am sick of that error! I tried to reboot several times, thinking maybe the laptop would change its mind and be nice. No luck.

So I took the drive Miko dragged across the floor, stuck it in my laptop, and gave it severe punishment. FORMAT C:! (and don't ask me again, YES, I'M SURE!!).

After the third format attempt, I successfully got Windows installed and then started the tedious process of reinstalling most of the normal programs I own on cd. So that took me all of yesterday.

This morning I attempted to copy files from the backup drives from the "My Documents" folder. Guess what? Access denied. I could access any other folder on those drives except the one I REALLY NEEDED. Miko blamed me - "I don't know what you do with computers to have all these problems". Well, guess what - neither do I.

Anyway, before giving up I decided to do an internet search on the error, and lo and behold, in 2005 someone had asked the same type of question on a tech forum and some guys who really knew what they were talking about responded. So thanks to Mike and Ross I was able to change the security settings on that folder and get to my files.

So I'm back in business, that apparently was the easy part. I still have a bunch of other programs to be loaded - programs I'd purchased via download, where the 25-character license key isn't there on a sticker right in front of me. I have to do some digging through emails to find the licenses. I will leave that for when I'm back in Mexico, I have other pressing business to attend to here.

Somehow I broke a molar. I don't know when, or how - probably from clenched teeth. Tomorrow I will make a visit to my dentist to see what he has to say. I love this dentist - he is all about ensuring his patients do not suffer pain. He actually did some work on Miguel's teeth a couple of years ago, and Miguel was very impressed with the professionalism and service. I have not been to see him in a couple of years, but he kindly agreed to fit me into a booked schedule tomorrow morning. I suspect I know what is needed, and it isn't cheap, but I will wait for his opinion.

I am taking a web design program online. For the first week there was tons of reading and three assignments. The toughest assignment was to put together a composite of what I am planning to do as my project for the class. I have never done a composite, I don't really know what that is, and I can't draw. So I used three different programs to put together something that I thought was suitable and submitted it. Then I saw what others submitted and knew I was way off. But...my teacher's feedback: "I don't usually accept labs without a solid attempt at a composite, but I've never had someone turn in such a detailed and well-thought out plan accompanied by images and ideas. So what you have done certainly works for me!"

Whew! So I don't have to rework Week 1, and I can now focus on Week 2, which is due Sunday, no ifs, ands, or buts. If only I can keep the laptop from interfering with my plans, I might stand a chance. Off to do my homework...

According to Sue's personal dictionary

I am a-responsible. Without responsibility. At least as far as work outside the home goes. It feels great.

I am not irresponsible. To me that is someone that should be responsible but is not.

I am not unresponsible, which is not really a word, but if it was in my dictionary, I would define it as a person incapable of taking on responsibility.

When I am working, I am capable of taking on responsibility, and I am responsible. So the fact that I am on my first day of not working outside the home, I'm going to declare that I am a-responsible. Without responsibility.

Were finances different, this would definitely be the beginning of a life of a-responsibility. But the financial situation is not so great, so I am heading towards semi-responsibility. At least, that's all I hope it becomes.

How can I be retired if people keep asking me to be responsible again?

I remember a conversation in 1996, with a favorite co-worker (that would be you, Randy). We were working in downtown Chicago, not in the best part of town. We were surrounded by homeless and crazy people, and we decided that we were going to be the same when we got to be that age. It seemed so carefree.

Would that make it "irresponsible", "unresponsible", or "a-responsible"? I don't know, and since Randy has gone on to something very respectable, I think he might have changed his mind about living out of a shopping basket and prowling the shores of Lake Michigan searching dumpsters for discarded donuts and other scraps. Although some of those people seemed happy with their situation, I'm not sure how many consciously decided to live like that, probably very few. I'm sure the vast majority would choose a different life if they thought they had a choice.

I bet with the current economic situation that there are more people like that now than there was back in 1996. I personally know someone, a professional making a great income, who became unemployed and worked through all his resources and ended up living in a parking garage. Hard to imagine, but that was his reality.

So although I'd like to remain a-responsibile, I know it's not realistic. But while I have it, I'm going to enjoy it.

Loco's Hamburger Adventure - as told by Loco

There I was, lying on the back seat of the golf cart, enjoying the smell of the hamburgers that my family was going to devour when we got home. I'd just finished licking my yucky parts - all of them. My nose was wet and slimy, and I really needed a bath.

Out of nowhere came two other golf carts - one parked right behind us and the other parked across the road. The people who got off the cart were drunk, and some were still carrying their bottles of beer. The driver was carrying a big bottle of water, but I think that might have been a decoy, because he walked a little funny.

One of the guys on the back of the cart spotted me and staggered over. He put out his hand, palm down, so I could check him out, and once he realized I was friendly, he patted me on the head. Then he leaned in and gave me a big wet kiss on the end of my nose. He told my mom that he had just lost his dog a couple of weeks ago and was feeling sad. Then he walked over to join the rest of his group in front of the hamburg stand.

My dad Miguel was sitting over there but when he saw all the people, he got up and offered them chairs. He quickly realized that they were drunk, but he engaged them in conversation and asked where they were from.

The driver from the other cart across the street came past me, and he reached out to pet me on the way by. Then the first guy came back and got up on the back of the cart to sit with me. He sort of sat on my tail and usually I would cry when that happens because my mom gives me sympathy, but I just let this guy sit on my tail and snuggle in with me.

He was stroking me and talking to my mom and telling her that he'd had to put his dog to sleep a couple of weeks ago, and it was so hard. While he was talking, a drunk woman from the group came over and started touching me too. Wow, I was getting lots of attention.

After 10 minutes or so our hamburgers were ready and we had to leave. The man leaned over and gave me another big wet kiss on my nose. Then the lady leaned in and asked me for a kiss, and so I reached up and licked all over her face, including her mouth since she didn't seem to mind. Then I reached back and chewed my tail. The lady laughed and said how funny it was that I had just given her a sloppy kiss and then I was chewing my tail. If she only knew what else I'd been chewing and licking before I gave her those kisses.

The woman was dressed in a low-cut halter dress, and I wanted to let her know how much I apprecated the view when she leaned over me. So I lifted my back leg to show her my stuff. She commented on my 'lipstick', and my mom was embarrassed and pushed my leg back down. But my dad was proud (he'd had a couple of beers earlier in the day so was a little less reserved) and asked me to show it again. So I kept lifting my leg and my mom kept pushing it back down. Everyone laughed and we said goodbye and drove home.

I hope they don't get sick today from all my kisses. I know people always blame the food when they come down with tourista, but they don't tell you how many dog's noses they kissed when they were out and about. It's NOT always the FOOD!!

The last hour of the last day of work...

And the phone rang. A call I'd been told to expect for the last several months. I'd forgotten about it, but as soon as the person told me where she was calling from, I knew.

Was I available for work? Hey, I JUST became available, I'm hot off the press. The timing struck me funny and since it was all spontaneous, I was unguarded in my conversation.

I'd been recommended by a friend. She wanted to know about my background, and my skills. And so ensued a very pleasant chat with a woman I felt an instant connection with. She used to be a consultant, she 'got' what I told her about my work. I've sent her my entire life story, I'm chatty like that. Ok, not quite my entire life story, but hopefully enough to answer her questions and assure her that I am more than capable for the project.

So we'll see. I would love to keep something percolating. Nothing full-time. And I'm not in a hurry. I was looking forward to thinking I was retiring.

But that proverbial door that closed may have allowed the other one to open. Time will tell...

Cat got your tongue?

I don't know, but something got my tongue. Wow, I have a really sore spot on the side of my tongue, way at the back. It hurts to talk, it hurts to eat, it hurts to swallow. I can feel a rough spot back there. Not sure if I bit my tongue (I've had to bite it a lot lately), or if I have a small infection.

The immediate concern is swelling and respiratory obstruction. So I took anti-inflammatory meds before I went to bed, and I mandated Miguel to sleep in the same room as me in case I obstructed. I demonstrated how I would poke him in the ribs if I got into trouble and couldn't talk. Perhaps I was over-reacting, but I like to be prepared.

Miguel is a weird sleeper. He can be in a conversation with me and if I pause for any longer than a minute between sentences, I'll look over and he'll be sound asleep. Sometimes I go up to bed and leave him sleeping on the couch or in the other room, and often he ends up just spending the night there. Which means I get the bed upstairs all to myself, and double the pillows (four pillows is just about right, no?). I also get all the sheets, it's really quite a nice arrangement.

Miguel requires less overall sleep than I do, which means he is often awake by 3 or 4 am. So on those nights when he has made it upstairs, when he wakes up early and can't get back to sleep, he will often tip-toe out of the room and head to the living room to work on his schoolwork, watch tv, or browse the internet.

This morning I woke up late - 7 am, and the spot on the bed beside me was empty. So I guess Miguel decided that I had survived enough of the night to reassure him I would not obstruct, and he trotted off downstairs.

And here I am, still alive, still able to breathe. I can even still talk, although it sounds a little funny and it hurts when I do so. Miguel and the animals will get to enjoy a quieter home front until this thing clears up. They'd all better behave, because I don't want to dole out a tongue-lashing with only partial use of my tongue. When I go on a rant, I want them to feel the full effect and to THINK ABOUT WHAT THEY DID. My message might lose some punch if I can only yell, I mean speak, at half-volume, and with a mouth full of swollen tongue.

Am I sad?

This is my last week working for a company that I've been associated with for 13 years. A company where I worked under the most incredible mentor ever (that would be you, Linda!). A company where I had the pleasure to work with someone who became a life-saver (that would be you, Bennie!). A company where I will still have friends even after I've gone.

Last week I was asked if I'm feeling sad about leaving the company. My response - "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

Many people think I have been living the dream. No, not yet, but give me time and I will!

My goal was to retire by the age of 55. Guess how old I'll be in December? Yup - 55. I cannot WAIT to get to post-work life and not be tied to my computer all day long for 5 days a week. I have a life to live yet, nobody else can live it for me. And so I intend to get on with it!

Sure, I still need some sort of an income, and I am in the process of figuring out how I will make that happen and STILL HAVE A LIFE. But I have no doubt I will figure it out, and I have a bunch of people laying odds that I will be just fine.

The only thing I will have lost is an income. I did not lose job security (I never had it - it doesn't exist). I have not lost friends, they will still be there (Hi Guys!). I have not lost my health, in fact maybe I will actually have time to take better care of my body (and my mind?).

The most precious thing I will have gained is time. Something that can never be recovered once lost. I want to spend more time with my home, my family (I might even become a grandmother!), my animals, with my passions and hobbies. I want to write, I want to knit, I want to sew, I want to cook. I want to organize. I want to learn. I want to think. I just want to BE.

So many things have been on the back-burner. I will finally have time to putter and do things the way I want to do them. I might finally clear the stuff off the dining room table and keep it off instead of just shoving it into a nearby suitcase or cabinet when people are coming (only to be dragged out again once they leave so I can try and find a permanent place for it).

So I am not sad. I am excited, I am thrilled, I cannot wait for this week to end. Because I have a dream, and nobody can live my dream except me.

Where would I like to live?

Yesterday we were out for a drive and went past one of my favorite houses on the island - Casa del Sol al Sol. The house has been on the market for at least a year. We met the owners a few months ago and they previously owned another cool house on Sac Bajo near Villa Rolandi. They have great taste in houses, if you ask me.

Something I've never seen here before is "Open House" on properties for sale, but yesterday there was an open house at Casa del Sol al Sol. Miguel has been lucky with the Mexican lottery lately and I was thinking that if he was really lucky, we might be able to buy the house.

But then I thought - it is on the east side, where the wind almost never stops blowing. Great breeze in the hot summer months, but too much wind for my taste on that side in the winter months - you can't get away from it. And during hurricanes, it's way too exposed on that side for my comfort. Nope, I would not buy a property on the east coast of the island.

My mind moved on to Sac Bajo - the west side of the island. Lovely calm waters, but almost no breeze most of the time and in the summer, it is just plain hot with too many bugs. And sometimes the intercoastal waterway mangroves smell funky. So even though those are multi-million dollar properties, I wouldn't want to live there.

What about Punta Sur/Garrafon? Too hard to get down to the edge of the water, too far out, and too dark at night. I would not feel comfortable home alone, it's too remote for my taste. So I wouldn't buy property there either.

The north end? Either the beach itself or in town? No, not in town - too congested, too noisy, and too commercial. Playa Norte? No, not for a private home - wedged in between hotels along the beach, there wouldn't be any privacy in my own yard.

So I've ruled out buying property here on any coast. That leaves the central part of the island. An island that is only half a mile wide at best. My home is in the center of the island, and the location suits me well. Sure there are things I don't like about my neighborhood, but I do like:

- being more protected from some of the wind and salt;
- that my street has street lamps;
- that the lagoon near my house does not smell;
- that there are families near me;
- that our home is private;
- that we live amongst other local families.

But would I buy another piece of property here if it was not on a beach? No, probably not. Many tourists are really looking to stay at places on the beach - that is prime rental property. There are "For Sale" signs all over this island at the moment, but to invest in more property that is not in high demand doesn't seem to make a lot of sense. And so, on that short little drive past Casa del Sol al Sol yesterday, I came to the conclusion that my land-buying days here on the island are over. I will keep what I have, but if Miguel ever gets that big windfall, we'll be looking elsewhere to build my dream hacienda estate. Maybe Oaxaca?

You probably had to be there (but I'm telling it anyway)

The other morning Smokey was lying on the floor beside the coffee table, taking a doze and minding her own business. Miguel decided to torment her by calling her - he didn't want anything other than acknowledgment that she heard him. He called "Smokey" several times, no reaction. He told me to call her - and I sweetly said "Smo-key" and she turned her cute little face towards me and gazed at me with her beautiful eyes.

Annoyed that Smokey favors me, Miguel started to say nasty things about her. "Smokey gato feo" (ugly cat) resulted in Smokey quickly swinging her head around and glaring at Miguel. As if to say "what was that you just said?". The look in her eyes dared him to say it again.

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Last night Minina was perched on the edge of the kitchen bar counter, looking towards the top of the fridge. I told her to 'go for it', and with that, she jumped and landed right in the center of the top of the fridge. She turned to me and said something that sounded like "Like that?". She understood me when I told her to go for it, but unfortunately I didn't quite understand her words back to me. Although I did understand her meaning. I think.

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Also last night, after we'd gone to bed, there was a crash from somewhere outside the bedroom. Getting up to check, I found Maya laying on the top of the ledge overlooking the staircase. I asked her what had happened and with that she leaned over the edge of the counter and looked down. As if to say that the noise was from down there. I thought maybe a cat had fallen, and Smokey was at the bottom of the stairs, but upon further investigation, I found that Minina had knocked something off the counter while searching for night-time geckos. As I looked up the staircase, Maya was still leaning over, watching and listening. I tried to get a picture but it was dark and the flash was off, and that attracted Maya's attention and she came down to see what I was up to. So sorry, no picture.

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We were eating at La Bruja this afternoon. Loco, as always, was sitting on the golf cart. Along came a little male dog. As he passed the cart I expected Loco to lunge at the little dog to tell him to get away from his space. But Loco was in a friendly mood, and got down from the cart and both dogs eyed each other, wagged their tales, and had a good sniff of each other's most private dangly bit.

With that checked out, it was time for the pee-ing contest. Loco went first, decorating the front tire of the golf cart before getting back up on the cart. The little dog went up to the puddle, licked up a few drops, and urinated on top of Loco's 'sign'. With that Loco went back and sniffed, and added some more liquid to the mix before getting back up on the golf cart. The fourth and final pee-er was the little dog, who went over top of Loco's puddle and then trotted off.

We declared the little dog the winner.

Seen in the garden yesterday

A pretty weed...



Front garden bougainvilla...



Chong (we renamed him after the original Chong disppeared - too hard for Miguel to say "Cheech"). We hope to catch him this week and send him to be neutered...



Pool terrace...










Back terrace...