If we are too busy…

Last night I managed a few hours sleep in between boughts of excitement and much silent waiting. It is now referred to less than affectionately as the night of the spoons. I was mouse fishing. I adopted a number of spoons of various shapes dipped in peanut butter (carefully removed from peanut butter pretzels) balanced over a bucket . The result of the whole nights efforts was noisily catching a spoon or two every few hours so as to disturb all sleep and zero mice.   My balanced bottle genius invention has been studiously ignored. I am a touch tired and completely outsmarted by Mortimer the Mouse. I am now under some pressure to employ a more effective trap that will be the end of Mortimer. I am still wanting to catch the bugger. Challenge is down.

I drag my tired frustrated self into town for supplies and to deposit laundry. We have taken to drying out our damp laundry in the sun which makes it less likely to rot but condenses the smell significantly. Our clothes which are now infused with dried sweat are neck snappingly stinky.

I am considering better Mortimer entrapment techniques when the solution jumps at me from under my thinking and drinking beer table. An abandoned kitten. We are gifted cat food and encouraged to remove the beast and re-home her. Timing excellent kitty. We install her entirely to irritate Mortimer. Just so we all understand our role in life kitty is renamed Maustrappe . Tripe is delighted.

There is a lot of nature out here and nature is not quiet. We are , however, grateful to be away from the noises of the town. We live in a Catholic –plus country . Church on Sunday is a thing and a series of festivals celebrating saints is also a thing. The most recent was to celebrate Saint Francis. Being in San Francisco this is a quite a big thing.   To mark the 9 day festival we are awoken in our windowless room at 5 am by very loud gunfire. Big sharp explosive noises that apparently are nothing to do with a normal honest murder but a call to prayer. The patron saint of animals is honoured by setting off all the roosters an hour early and scaring the stuff out of all dogs ( quite literally in some cases ).   This mock attack is perpetrated by some giggling priest at random times through out the day and night for nine days….. it’s not normal.   There is also a daily procession carried out by nine different areas of the town for the festival period. This involves some bloke/child dressed as Saint Francis on the back of a crawlingly slow moving truck looking slightly embarrassed followed by children dragged by parents and an enthusiastic brass band which has many Mariachi style antique/classic trumpets and tubas fuelled we assume with spiritual divination and Mezcal.

We find out that there is a tradition in Mexico to review your will at this time of year. All solicitors (by law) offer a 50% discount for a month. Mexican probate law is amongst many administrative sticky webs that is not a place to find yourself especially if you are suddenly single. If you don’t have a will here and you die then expect a few years in court. We are not married and our assets ( liabilities to be fair) are not straight forward so we give in. We endure many official hours of many words and many more signatures . Our liabilities are generously spread around some poor unfortunates should we depart.   This is now a document lodged with the government and is as official as a dozen signatures and two dozen pretty stamps can achieve.

More administrative torture includes creating personal and business bank accounts. The whole affair is astonishingly slow and there are so many levels of checks and passport copies and signatures. So many signatures. This is designed to prevent money laundering which was rife years ago and has been cracked down on in spectacular fashion these days. Nothing happens here officially without an invoice and everything is traceable. Dirty money is the way forward.

Our bank manager is friendly and quite lovely so spending many hours with him trying to get our accounts to work could be a lot worse. We plug in our rechargables in his office so at least the time is not completely wasted.

Much to our surprise we are offered house insurance. Now we have been told house insurance is not available in Mexico. It appears that this toe in the water into house insurance offered by our bank is very unusual and certainly worth considering. In the UK we are required to have triple lever locks on all doors,  window locks , a good post code and alarms fitted before your insurance company gives you the chance for them to ignore your claim. In Mexico your house must be made of at least cardboard and have at least a dirt floor to qualify ( not joking). For a very few $ we cover all our stuff on our entire land in all our our “buildings”. This includes all our solar and tools and tech and booze ! Probably worth the time charging the phone for.

The treehouse is now unlikely to fall down and has become very comfortable. We have loud power, running water for the next month at least, a chest freezer which we stock with ice and power up occasionally to keep the beer cold. We ship in vegetables, local eggs and cooked chickens . This morning we had an omelette with handfuls of our vert own Moringa leaves ( and more tasty things) with local honey ( we have been gifted buckets of the stuff). So add to the mix the pool to jump into a number of times a day and life is covered. Time to get some work done.

Days here are between 8 am and 8 pm. Daylight. The pace of life is such that getting stuff done takes all the time there is. We have achieved much .. but .. we have been here six weeks and have not been to the waterfalls behind our land and much more worryingly I have not been surfing. The rains have drained rivers deep in land and have deposited great quantities of crocodiles and poo into the sea and that is not a great surfing environment. Sayulita is famously sewagy at this time of year so it’s worth waiting until November we are told. Very soon all will be well and clean and surfy again ( if we avoid Sayulita) . Can’t wait.   No excuse not to have been to the waterfalls. If we are too busy we are doing it wrong.

The world around us is waking up. Nature is emerging from the rain. In the past days we have watched over two dozen large eagles playing in the thermals above our heads. Tripe is chasing some beast or other regularly. We are confused to hear the sound of tools on wood right outside and lumps of wood falling to the ground.  Confusing. The culprits turn out to be a bunch of red headed woodpeckers.  Easy to spot and not so subtle.  They are machines when they get going. Sound like machetes one minute and pneumatic hammer drills the next. Proper carpenters.

Our magic silent sun power is proving elusive. We have ordered a large array with inverters and great batteries and all the other bits we need. The expensive stuff will be locked away in the re-assigned brick shit house ( we are in the process of designing and ordering steel doors for it) and the array will be secured to a 4M tall 6Mx4M structure directed at 17 degrees towards two huge trees on our neighbours land that will effectively and efficiently shade them from the sun perfectly for most of the day. These trees are on agricultural zoned land and are not ancient or rare or even very useful ( wood wise) we are told . We have just conducted a protracted negotiation and have arranged for them both to be relocated from vertical to horizontal for a contribution to the farmers Mezcal budget.   Our most pressing issue is that because of some selfishly destructive hurricanes there are Islanders worldwide in desperate need of power. When asking for a lead time on equipment from our supplier an overworked employee will remind us that we are at the foot of a long prioritised list of much needier folk. Fair enough. Could be 10 weeks away. Bugger.

Our need for cashflow will become pressing at some point much sooner than we are predicting we predict. To this end we have made a survey of each of our buildings to see which one we can make rentable the quickest and most cost effectively.

It’s the Bodega that wins. Our Bodega ( concrete shed with huge metal doors) was where a carpentry business was based 5 years ago. It’s a solid building which will have good security when we weld a great lock to the doors. It’s currently inhabited by a load of mucky junk , biggest spiders and many bats.  It’s on the other side of the hill but has the best potential.

We do not plan to house anyone in the Bodega but on top. There’s what is left of wooden stairs leading to a sound concrete platform with walls and huge windows. There is a bathroom that was plumbed in at one time. The roof is shot.

Already we have removed the rotten roof and constructed a frame out of the good timber for a palapa roof. Next stage is cutting down 200 plus large palm leaves for the thatch. This gives us great potential to deliver further sun from canopy to jungle floor. Our targeted sacrificial palms are above our house and where the the solar isn’t yet.   There is a bathroom block next to the Bodega so with the purchase of another Tanaco or two and a direct 24DC solar input to a submersible pump we will be able to resurrect bathroom/shower amenities. Touch of paint and a security draw bridge to get up and down.  Add some basic accommodation somewhere close  for volunteers/visitors and that’s the plan.

San Pancho ( San Francisco ) is a special place. The Mexican President in 1970 found it when there were only a few hundred people. We are told he invested in a hospital and schools and infrastructure to impress his mistress who lived there.  Allegedly he wanted it to be a model community for Mexico and a symbol for all third world nations. All the roads are named after what were  considered to be third world places in the 1970s.  . “Turn left at Cambodia down Burma till you get to Africa”. It has a stunning beach and a short beach break wave with a few hidden rocks for fun. There is a golf course and polo club. World class sunsets. Friendly and safe. Caters to all budgets. During the season there is a significant  influx of Gringo dollars . All this and a population of less than 2000. It’s a great spot.

San Pancho has been asleep ( when the roosters let it ) since we arrived in the floods. Halloween and The Day of the Dead signal the start of surf and tourists. That’s soon. Bars & shops are awakening and readying themselves to make money. Events are on the calendar. When the season starts properly in December so does the need for special places to rent out. Point is we have a very ready market , when we are ready.

Need to focus.

But maybe a trip out to the waterfalls first….

I get a tick..out of yoooou

With high potential of a Laurel & Hardy moment we  position two huge tanacos above the treehouse to accept and distribute water. We dam the stream and pump water for two hours over 1/2 km  and the pool fills and we are set ! A bit of detritus fishing and fiddling with the sand filter and pump and we are done for the day. She is looking gooood. We have our first dive bomb and swim and sleep soundly dreaming of running water.

Gravity and a touch of stupidity changes our day. We awake early and greet the day and our empty pool. My last minute fiddling last night left the filter set to drain. The entire contents of our pool has returned ½ km to the stream. Our guys show up after wading up the new stream to our land. I am not the man of the hour.

We leave to buy stuff in some embarrassment and return some hours later with a sink. I busy myself making up for earlier blonde ( ginger ) moment and set about making a new home for sink and plumbing stuff. We are so ready !

The crew have in our absence pumped up new stream to the pool and refilled it. Pumped water up to a newly placed 2500 litre tenaco next to house (which is some elevation) . We are at the limit of our water pumps.  Next they pump from the house tenaco up to the tenacos above us. Pumps are straining but they fill. Check PH, Chlorine and a few tweaks with seals. Ready..

The tap flows but the inlet sprays water everywhere. 4 years of Mexico has eaten the seals. We wait until morning before we can find good seals and give it another go. The bugger works beautifully. Until the tenacos run out we have running water, shower and flushing loo. Oh joy !

One thing I wasn’t told, or found in a book or thought much about is mould.  It appears more obvious now that when it’s tropically damp all the time and the humidity is off the scale, mould will grow on all your deliciously damp things ..How can humidity be 98% ? Surely we should drown ??….. .Mould loves leather we have discovered. It appears everywhere but especially on all things leather. Day one I applied a vinegar soaking to the window screens that were a rather lovely pattern of green growth. Within a few hours we could see the world and feel the breeze through the previously clogged screens. Daylight and air !! Luxury. Emergency trips to the laundry before out clothes rot and vigilance and vaseline help a lot. My wash bag is soft leather and subject to constant mould abuse. I found my cowboy boots hidden under something and they looked like a science experiment. I have taken to lovingly massaging all leather in the house with vaseline. My boots, wash bag, machete sheaths, all shoes, belts and some of the arty bits have all had a good go.

Thankfully the humidity is falling & the rivers are drying up. It’s been a few days since we had rain. Locals tell us it’s brewing for a blow out storm that will take the humidity with it.

Now there is a reason I still live out of a quite mould free but slippery wash bag. Our cupboards next to out open plan toilet have been squatted. There is a longterm tenant that seems to consider we are intruding on its otherwise perfect life. It’s a mouse. A cunning and tenacious one. I respect this mouse. I will catch him and relocate him to other adventures. It’s not easy.   The cupboard has been de-moused every day for over a week. Every morning I remove all leaves , toilet paper and bits of our food packaging, our food, and lots of mouse friendly junk. Every morning. This mouse works hard. Remaking a mouse house daily must get old right ? . But she’s at it every night like a champ. So I have created a nut filled counter balanced water bottle/coat hanger trap. It didn’t go for it last night but somehow an almond from the trap ended up in her new bed this morning. I have moved the bait farther down the bottle and will see what happens. In the meantime all mousy treats including dog food are under locked away.

Dog food is necessary because we have been adopted by a three & ½ legged dog. We have since found out he is one of our neighbours dogs but we must feed him better. He lives outside our door on a raised platform that is cool in the day and protected at night. We bought food for him. His leg injury is due to being kicked by a cow. He does very well on three functional legs. Chased off some beast up our hill last night. Because of this we have celebrated his injury and named him Tri-pe or Tripe for short.

I had my first tick attack today. It was a normal affair and Limes Disease is not a thing here in Mexcio so it’s more of a bother than a threat. There are famous ticks out here called Guenas (pronounced Weenis) . They have a stubborn head that is hard to remove and they can last for months and make silky smooth skin look a touch war torn. They are a feature of cows so we have spent time designing and haggling and are getting priced up metal gates on every entrance around the whole of the boundary. Keep the cows out. They eat anything and everything and give you weenises. My tick is enthusiastically surgically removed under anaesthetic provided by cheap cold Chardonnay. I am amazed how many items purpose design to cut stuff out of me have arrived with us !?

The pick up truck is a godsend. It provides us with air-con first and foremost but also hauls great amounts. We have been gifted so much stuff by new friends. Many many  plants ,soil ,and buckets of horse /bat shit. Amongst our many gifts was a rather special one from a newly discovered friend. I now have my first Mexican wife. For my other wives I was forced to build a secret room and entomb then in my cellar back in UK with Elvis. I’m sure they won’t mind. She is very beautiful. Her eyes sparkle like mirrors.

The house is complaining. Came as a bit of a shock. Examined the cantilevers holding up the balcony and found them to be wanting. Well eaten away is the correct term. Not good. I have been aware of four potential points of failure for some weeks and have had my eye on them. The core of the wood is good but there are large areas of rot. Have removed the dead wood and treated the rest but the points of contact with one of the cantilever supports is now badly compromised. Broken actually. Another one looks dodgy. We depart for a fix . I have a plan.

We pass through stream four on the way to fix things and meet a huge white stork fishing next to us. We hit Mariposa Point and a dozen different butterflies fly around the truck as we disturb them. Why they choose that exact spot is a mystery. By the time we get to town we are relaxed and in fixing mood.

By good efforts and lots of good fortune within less than 24 hours we are propped up and safe as much safer houses. After a good amount of survey and advice we found huge metal construction props and secured the balcony. It’s built out of the main structural braces of the house so holding them up strengthens the whole structure. Our crew has acquired three huge wooden mast poles of new wood which go into pits of concrete and are attached to the three cross braces that hold us up. The house is built well so it was very unlikely to have been badly damaged but this is a good insurance and gives us another 10 years of staying put. Looks good too ! Was worried about that (aesthetics v practicalities dillema).

We have taken to sleeping by routine collapse. A part of this routine we have taken to indulging ourselves via laptop to the daftness that is the DVD box set of The Good Life. One of BBC best of the 70s sitcoms. I say no more .. except …if you have never heard of it then give it a go. If you remember it you will add nostalgia. This was family viewing at my house when I was 9 years old. That dates me …! Felicity Kendal was my ideal fantasy woman when I was 9.

Think she still might be….

So eventful as our days are they are getting us somewhere.  Still not clear where but that’s the point of it just now. Endless possibilities.