Journey to Polaris

Still working towards getting our place ready to rent out.  Making it fun. This blog may be a little ranty but it’s cathartic so forgive/ignore as necessary.

Our man wakes us as the light sets in proper about 8 am . He rides his donkey with no name noisily up the hill and delivers milk fresh from the cow. He insists it gives super powers. Few hours chilled and it is amazing stuff. He leaves with the donkey towing a lump of tree which is to be our new gate posts.

Our friend is a white witch healer in the town. She is a gentle and generous soul who only wears white and is seen with her two small rescued dogs that never leave her side. She takes local milk and cream and mixes it with honey from the hills and makes ice cream in jars. I was stabbed with a fork (not in a very healing, generous or gentle way I may add ) because I could not resist taking down the last jar she had.

My phone remains drowned. Our life saving methods including weeks in rice and anti-humidity crystals have failed to revive. I am not missing it at all. I have decided not to replace it for the foreseeable future. Lack of photos/camera is an issue I need to deal with (apologies).

I have progressively become more judgey as I see phones consume people’s lives. When stuck in airports I used to head to a bar and pass time chatting to random strangers. These days a screened device transfixes every single person in the bar. Saying hi or even making eye contact results in anger, suspicion or even fear. I’m not that scary.

It came home hard to me when I was in San Francisco. This city is extraordinary but you need to work 3 jobs for 7 days a week to make rent on a shared broom cupboard. I walked downtown in the middle of the day looking at my own phone following a map. I looked up and noticed that on the other side of the road there was a shantytown of homeless people. My side of the pavement was packed with suited people and tourists. All staring at screens as they walked. All of them. Literally all of them. On one side of the street I could not make eye contact with a single person if I had wanted to. On the other the homeless guys sat quietly and watched over at everyone marching past ghostly unaware.   At first I thought people were distracting themselves, a way to ignore the homeless situation right there on display. After a while I realised that it didn’t matter what was around them . They were in a different place. Not here where I was. They were buying things for imaginary farms, or swiping left or right, or putting bunny ears on pictures of their kids they never see.

I recently spoke to a Doctor in Manchester who sees the results of children & young adults living through screens. I-pad attachments for prams and pushchairs are popular these days. She observes that there is a growing population that has lost the ability to emote. They have learned to express happy things with a smiley face and bad things with a thumbs down grumpy face emoji. It apparently extracts them from real emotions and the ability to recognise human feelings. It’s a worry.

Again my own hypocrisy in this matter is under review.

We do use Facebook to keep in touch with real-life friends and family spread far and wide and do find it a useful tool (if I avoid posts about how cute someone thinks their baby is or worse their cat.) We don’t approve at all of the Orwellian overtones of being constantly monitored and “influenced” by managed content but I avoid the like button and use a VPN so if the sneaky buggers want to find out were I am, what shoes I have just broken or how to make me vote for Trump then good luck with that mate .

Google is our friend. As a fact checker it helps and as a “how to do “ oracle of all knowledge its invaluable. Who knew how little I actually knew. Not me.  Our website and our blog will be promoting us and so we are unashamed users of the great web of everything. If, however, you see me with my head in my phone when the sun is setting behind me and I’m surrounded by butterflies and birds and sexy people are trying to engage with me please please please give me slap. I see this happening all the time and it drives me nuts.

So we have come to understand the real addiction people have to their phones. We must make a plan to reluctantly service this addiction. We plan to promote our jungle experience as an opportunity to raise ones screen face upwards and engage but also recognise this will reduce our rental potential with those that can afford a few quid. We are told that American tourists here can do without water, food and a bed but not Wi-Fi. It’s an issue as the waiting list for new Wi-Fi connection in San Pancho is currently two years (not joking).

Because of this we have contacted the owner of the only house we can see from our land. Jayne’s Dad and I installed a rope up the treacherous hill behind us to give us better access to our water storage. If you make it up that far without falling too dramatically and squint with your head at a certain angle while hanging onto a tree there is a faint white spot that you may or may not be able to make out at the top of the furthest hill. That’s the place. Our first plan is to find a spot in town ( we have a number of target options) and bounce what internet we can to this white dot and redirect it to us so we can further distribute it around our hill.   This is the result of Jayne’s Dad studying satellite imagery of the area and learning about such technical matters for weeks leading up to his visit. Not something we would be attempting on our own.

The alternative is to take our brand new temporary Mexican residence cards to Telcel (who have a tower near us that provides serviceable Wi-Fi at a price ) and get a decent data plan and share that. We are looking at both options for fun.

The recovery of the land is a constant amazement. We found a path ( I use the royal “we” as it appeared after the boys took their machetes out for the afternoon ). This wide perfect path crosses the land from North to South and connects one side to the other. It starts at the  highest water Tinaco on the North side near the solar area and end up at our pool. On this path is another water Tinaco we discovered . This is great news as they are not cheap and are immensely useful. When plumbed in will feed the bricksh*t house shower. This is good news as we can set up glamping when we have power and connect water and buy tents and dig terracing and all the other things …..

Now I always had the impression that Canadians were a hardy lot who forged streams and skied mountains and laughed in the face of snow and ice. Well the two from Calgary that are here are letting the side down. I am swimming in the delightfully warm pool while these two shiver and moan about the slight cooling effect of getting in. It is currently minus 16 in Calgary by the way !?  They are in cahoots and its not long before they have bought pipe and boxes are emptied and gas is diverted and holes are drilled and before too long there is steaming hot waterfall coming out of the taps. Hot water showers !!  Softies. Jayne’s Dad is spoiling her rotten.

The streams and rivers are all running slow and low. The result of this is algae is forming so we drive over green water these days. The seasons bring different gifts of nature. September is fireflies, October is hornets and wasps and November is ticks. We trekked up to the top of the hill and I ended up following a water pipe right through the jungle. I did not take a machete so I had both hands free and I needed them. At one point I was suspended above the ground by vines. An inelegant untangling later I descended through a lot of sharp pointy thorny stuff and ended up on the new pathway at the newly found water Tenaca. A gang of ticks must have had a right laugh following me and jumping on board. At the last count I found seven of them snacking on me. Good job there is no Lyme’s Disease in Mexico. Just well entertained, well fed ticks.   I must be delicious . They don’t bother with anyone else.

San Pancho energy is building again. More new places to eat , shop, drink and spend tempt us daily. Many pinky brown tourists spending lots of money on rent. There are still the obligatory stunning sunsets . We have found a sexy bar that serves just about perfect Margaritas while we watch a lot of very thin bronzed and perfectly tattooed floppy haired local youths getting their surfboards wet and slack lining off palm trees.

No escaping the world really. I am in the back of our pick up truck just leaving our very favorite local ladies (who sell us the best cooked chickens) and a helmeted guy on a scooter shouts at me. Do you know “the Poyntons”? … Now much as I never like to admit knowing those crazy buggers I was wrong footed by surprise and confusion. Turns out this bloke from Cape Town knows us all from Afrikaburn and recognised me from there 2 years ago. I had thrown ice at him (we ran ice sales).  He jumps in the truck and he gets the tour and lunch and heads back to his new job in PV. We now have our newest volunteer but worryingly more incentive for the Poyntons to turn up!

The past days have been swallowed by designing a battery safe house and solar panel racks. We have also spent ( invested)  an age in Ferreterias, electrical and wood shops spending (investing) pesos. We are using Jayne’s Dad skills acquired by building scout camps and his own house . He is currently deployed wiring up our tree house for the arrival of magic sun power. We have gotten used to no power and having no lights and other such luxuries. Candles , head torches and early nights for us. When we test actual light bulbs on the generator it is like coming out of a cave. Seeing things all lit up. We had sort of forgotten the rather significant benefits of seeing things. Our floor needs a mop.

Much swearing and gnashing of teeth from me as both my batteries for my beloved Makita impact driver and drill fail. No charge and no charging. Trips to bloody useless Makita dealer and offers of extortionate priced inferior replacements later I finally clock the obvious. Feelings of both relief and stupidity as I remember we live in a 110v world here. We use the generator 240V outlet to power the 240V charger unit which charges them up as normal. Language and teeth noises improve.

Someone just told me it’s a month till Xmas. How did that happen ! We are not exposed to  TV or media hype or advertising so it’s passed us by. By this stage in UK I would be in mild panic mode trying to organise all the things. Not happening here. Not a cracker to be had . I did buy a box of Mi-Julie dates  which has made me slightly Xmassy and we picked up a litre of eggnog which we can traditionally ignore for a year or two and throw out when we get around to it.  We spotted a sorry looking tinsel tree on a shack today by the side of the road and at the traffic lights someone was selling inflatable penguins alongside the usual lumps of suspicious looking sugar cane and stolen flowers so we are not completely removed from it all.

Surprise turn of events. Jayne’s Dad has become our first investor. We have a number of investment opportunities here (relax this is not a sales pitch) we are working on but he just might have the sexiest. He has just bought a Polaris. Now this Polaris is a 4 seater ATV which is top of the range and very highly sought after by those who know. Amazingly they are advertised for rent at over $250US a day in PV and are ideal for our land and our access road. We can rent our places here with a Polaris at a fair old whack. We need to modify the Bodega to get it through the doors but that should not be too much drama. This is good news. Should get delivery later this week. Want to rent a Polaris mate ?

Rustico ! is the new Janky

Been out in the jungle now for 6 weeks. Seems like a huge amount more time has passed…. in a good way. No regrets and much achieved. Tourists are arriving into San Pancho and beach life there is in full swing. I need to preface this by declaring I am perfectly healthy and at no time has there been serious risk to my being . No need to worry Mum.

There is a lot to do and so we have to prioritise. No real routine has evolved but our current focus is getting the apartment above the Bodega and the area around it ready to rent out. We need an income. Our toilet block is now a delightful orange hue. Plumbing repairs to follow shortly. All the high value brass pipe has been nicked so we have a plan to replace it with low value plastic.

I have recently been spending a great deal of energy mending and replacing many screen windows. I’ve even built my first two from scratch. After a while swearing at the wood, pulling bugs out of the varnish , straightening bent nails, and hammering my multi-coloured thumb,  time takes on a different dimension and allows you to think about the bigger things, manage your expectations, appreciate the brief moments of success and not be too attached to the result. It’s very much like supporting Newcastle United. Slightly less emotional perhaps.

The apartment is now bright blanco inside and out. As well as the first of the new beautiful screen windows there has been the addition of a solid staircase to get up there created by splitting a tree in half. It’s just the right side of janky. Rustico! is the design theme. We love it.

There has also been a further creation of a large impressive floating Mezzanine area with an even jankier (Rustico!) stair/ladder. We have decided not to make it feel too safe to get up to it and to leave off any safety railings or handrails. We are not aiming to make this space very child friendly or idiot proof. We are arranging for a jungle contract, which will exonerate us from lawsuits. It’s a jungle. Things happen. Be aware and take reasonable care and all will be well,.

Solar planning is also full on. We have realized that trees and sun make shade. The brick-shithouse area is ginger friendly. Only a few hours of baking sunshine a day. Protons bounce off treetops rather than hit the ground where we intend to make our sun energy magic happen.   Change of plan. We have now cleared a huge swathe of jungle on the South face of the hill. What used to be a huge Palapa and deck area still stands on shaky bug eaten legs with no roof and a stolen deck clearly elsewhere.   Our plan is to have our proton catchers in this sun trap and rebuild the deck. It’s a beautiful spot tucked away and boarded by the stream running from the falls. Should be water running for the next month we think.

Water is disappearing. The well has dropped a meter or two and the creek has all but dried up. We see some pools in the morning and nothing by the afternoon. So only 4 streams to cross to get to us now.

As the water levels drop there is a steady pilgrimage from San Pancho to the streams to collect rocks. River rocks are used everywhere for building and decorating and gardens. Pick up truck loads are removed. So before our best rocks end up cemented into someone’s bathroom we gather and take the Toyota down to the wide stream to test its suspension.

We park mid stream and load up the truck. These boys are small but immensely strong. Even granddad is picking up boulders half his size. The 15 year old is pushing stuff around twice his weight. There is a macho thing happening and I am getting sucked into it. We wait until the rear springs look stressed enough and return to our newly dug out parking area and start to make a rockery of stored stone.

We go back for another load. We want bigger boulders apparently. Granddad is throwing the largest lumps and so I chose a biggish one, which is testing my strength. I get to the tailgate and make the effort to load the thing onto the growing pile and suddenly see sky. The river is very slippy and I have lost my footing. I heave the boulderaway from me as best I can in mid air and land not entirely elegantly in the river. I sit there examining myself and avoiding fuss. Granddad points out a large rock close to my head that I avoided hitting. It’s far enough away and amongst a large number of similar things I avoided so no drama. My ribs are a touch bruised and my thumb (which successfully caught the boulder on the way down) has a very pretty blue nail. It turns darker as I watch.   It might not make it.   We collect a further couple of loads and then call our rock store complete.

We greet our iron maker who arrives to survey the house for our new doors. Designs are approved and he leaves to get creative. They will look brilliant and make our house secure and sexy.

We then welcome our solar guy & his wife to survey the new chosen location before it is cleared. We make the trek with a couple of friends who also arrive at the same time and bring us beer & Mezcal . This is by far the most people we have had our here in one day. It’s a nice change of pace. All is well until we head back and the hornets reappear. This time they ignore me as I pass them swinging  a machete and hit our solar friends hard and fast. Not good. We get to the hosepipe and apply waterfall as quick as we can. Thankfully they are on their way to surf so their day can only improve. We drink beer and Mezcal with our remaining sting free friends and feel guilty.

The hornets have perished under a cloud of OKO. Our brave crew who cleared the land for the solar took spray cans of this specific noxious stuff which they know to be the best thing to discourage the buggers and distributed it onto every nest they could find. Not a job I would have wanted. I only got hit a few times but it was always sudden and unexpected and very painful. You don’t see them coming.

So we have exterminated the hornets. I also killed two large black torpedo shaped flying noise machines that were making sleep impossible. They sounded like helicopters, old broken noisy ones. I felt guilty afterwards, awaiting my Karma. Now I am no Jainist or vegan and my personal level of hypocrisy when it comes to respecting life and beasts is under constant review. I do try and respect life in all its forms and don’t make a habit of swatting flies or poisoning mice/rats. I save frogs and hopping things from the cat daily. I do, however, smack mosquitos to death regularly. My love affair with termites, scorpions and cutter ants is tenuous to say the least. I admit to ending a number of them. We are avoiding the very many recommended poisons designed to kill everything creepy or crawly. We are a source of food to many things and sorta kinda put up with it. Ticks are, however, killed on site. So far the rooster has survived the cull.

Snakes have appeared. Found a tiny baby one curled up under a block I moved which was cute but I kept my eyes out for its mum. Had a few other larger versions ignore me and cross my path quickly. We heard a loud distressed noise from under the house. it was dark but we traced the noise to a mouse that was looking directly at us and was clearly unhappy. I had my suspicions that this mouse was in trouble which was confirmed when we noticed that it is partly inside a snake. I hope that wasn’t Mortimer.

We are becoming very blasé about sharing our space with nature. I work beside the largest spiders and flick all sorts of bug and beasts from my face and hair regularly. I did, however, have my resolve tested when we arrived home a few days ago.

Still gulping air from the walk up the hill I noticed a trail of black ants on our stairs. Not cutter ants and not red ants so nothing to be worried about. I get to our recycle bin next to our door, which seems to be the ants’ destination and find a swarm of them over some unfortunate ex-beast that is all but consumed. Then my feet (which are in my last remaining unbroken sandals) get bitten. Many times. It hurts a lot. We get into the house quickly. I protect my aching feet with rubber welly -boots and head to the balcony to get a broom to counter attack. As I get to the screen door it appears to move. There are ants all over it. I open the door and shut it behind me very quickly. The decking is completely covered in ants. The screen windows are completely surrounded by ants. I check where they are coming from and the walls are covered in lines of ants. I attack. My broom eventually propels half of them over the side but more replace them. They are coming from everywhere at once. It’s biblical.  I am now armed with a kill-everything poison spray bottle that we have avoided using except spraying the door-frames to repel scorpions. The ants thankfully don’t like it at all. With thrusts of broom and mists of gunk they start to retreat. A long few minutes later the deck is ant free. I return to the front door and return the remaining invaders to the jungle. I empty the last of the spray on the stairs. Tripe has vanished. Don’t blame him!

We have arranged a day off to meet up with a couple that are friends of our Chapala mechanic ( who we think is hiding from us or has died.) They are working in a dog rescue place not far away and are from New Zealand (we can forgive them that.) Good to see things here through fresh eyes. Also good to have a map of local surf breaks they have tried out. I must get my board wet soon. After the grand tour we end up in Sayalita indulging in one our favorite local delicacies. It’s a burrito without the tortilla, which is replaced with a sheet of fried cheese packed with whatever you like. Fresh octopus in a fried cheese casing is my idea of heavenly heart attack food. The kiwis are off to buy a van in Chapala and then travel Mexico. Sure we will meet up again.

We are preparing for a VIP. Jayne’s Dad is arriving from Calgary for a 3-week visit. The apartment is far from habitable yet so this involves a lot of very hasty upgrades to the “Gypsy Caravan” or shed as I call it. Holes are mended, locks fitted, paint is applied, waterfall is plumbed in, beds are made. The whole of it is cleaned for the first time in many years. It looks pretty good considering. Finishing touch is the obligatory janky (Rustico!) staircase up to the door. I was told the Queen thinks the world smells of paint because everywhere she goes has just been redecorated. I wonder if he will notice.

Our schedule has been interrupted as we have taken some days off to attend a four-day “Architectural Bamboo “ course. We have a heap of bamboo and an endless supply locally, which we want to use. We have a lot of experience building various temporary structures with bamboo around the world. We want to learn more so have negotiated a significant cheeky discount and off to Sayulita we go.

We now understand that bamboo is not good in the wet, or the sun. We also know that bugs love it and that it can’t touch the ground, ever, or it will rot. We know that it is strong on the outside but weak on the inside and needs a lot of pretreatment before we can use it at all. It is not the flexible friend we thought it was. We also know that failing to build a geodesic dome for two days with lengths of bamboo and string is a terrible idea. Being hit in the head by spring-loaded bamboo is also a terrible idea. Thankfully I have a thick skull and little there to damage so I survived. We have met some very good people and are looking forward to working and playing with them again.

We arrive home late and the van gets stuck up the hill before reaching the house. Our 4×4 is back with Jesus. It’s dark and the back wheels are spinning on the rocks that used to be evenly spread as traction but the rains have now made into sporadic piles of rubble. I get out to survey the situation and encourage another run at it. The wheels spin until there is slow forward motion and then sudden momentum as they catch. The van lurches upward and the tyres fling rocks at great speed towards me. I hear them pass very fast and very close to my head. I won’t be doing that again.

Great news! We are informed of the opening of a pub in San Pancho. The first of its kind. It serves home produced beers on tap. Tap beers are something I miss as its pretty much all bottles here. We arrive with some enthusiasm and are greeted by great people behind a large Parota bar very excited about their first day of business after many months of planning. The craft beers they offer are all IPAs. Now I am not adverse to a hop or two but the trend to make beer taste like perfume, toothpaste, shoe polish and feet is not for me. I am assured that for IPA these beers are great examples but I am clearly not an IPA drinker. Beers that I grew up with from Theakstons have spoilt me maybe. Where are the Leo Sayer ( all day-er ) brews that taste like smooth delicious beer and don’t make you stupid after a neckful of them ? Guinness oh Guinness how I miss you.

It is possible that our mechanic in Chapala is still alive and an outside possibility that the Rug-Rod vehicle we bought a few months ago may be in a state of drivability within a foreseeable amount of time maybe soonish. This is potentially possibly good news. A trip to Chapala is in our future, we suspect, sometime, perhaps.

White is the new Orange

So the effect of no 4×4 truck is to persuade Django (our lovely 2×4 van) to take us further than it wants to go. We compromise and park her at our mans ranch which is a little more than half way home. From there we walk.

The plan is to buy only easy to carry things and arrive home before dark. We are not good at this and arrive at the ranch , in the dark with , amongst many other things , a queen size mattress and 80 litres of paint .

Puerta Vallarta ( PV) is in a separate time zone to us. Or should be. Mexico decided that this was inconvenient as large amounts of hungover Gringos did not factor this in and missed their flights. This was solved in a flurry of official stamps and signatures . San Pancho and Sayalita were declared on the same time zone at Puerta Vallarta by the Mexican government.   30 mins up the road the other way the time changes as per traditional International “guidelines” and geography.

We forgot about the clocks changing and arrived home an hour late in the dark. No excuse for the shopping.

We decide to blag a lift with all our stuff the next day and set off home in the dark being fully aware of snakes . There has been sightings of two large snakes on the road between the ranch and our house. It’s OK as we have protective open toe sandals and the light of our one good iPhone. Snakes are our number one thought for nearly a whole minute. As we leave the light and follow the path fire flies are lighting our way. Not just the odd one or two but thousands of them. By the time we reach the creek+ that borders our land there are swirls and waves of them. It’s dizzying and overwhelming. We sit down and try and take it all in. This is one of the most stunning sights I have ever witnessed.

Did not know how many kids were in San Pancho till today. Halloween brings them all on the streets to impress with their dressing up efforts and fill themselves with sugar. Hundreds of sugar crazed spider-bat-witch-frog-zombies. The town itself is almost fully alive now. Renovations in final stages and new old places opening daily. So much more choice to spend your peso. The tourists are coming.

Day of The Dead is a family affair in San Pancho. The locals spend a few days in the graveyard partying with their departed. If grandad loved cards then there is a poker game. If granny was a dancer then there is dancing. There is a somber candle lit procession of girls all immaculately made up as the iconic Katrina character . It’s a spiritual affair. Almost but not entirely unlike the opening scene of a certain bond movie.  We have missed our good friends 50th Birthday in Manchester which was Dia De Los Muertos themed.  Photos look epic. Skype failed us or she would have had a Mariachi Band play happy birthday from the beach. It’s the thought that counts right ?

Jobs at home are appearing fast. After moving our house tenaco to the other side ( of the hill ) we use the water from the creek+ to fill it & hose down the shower block and bodega. The effect of this is to reveal what will be a rather funky jungle apartment …. Eventually. Previously an aged artist chap who lives even further out somewhere painted on the entire apartment exterior. It is a 360 degree mural depicting night and day in the jungle with plants and trees and butterflies  and birds. Now I am all about the art but this never quite made the good list for me. It took a lot of work I can see that but does look like a stage set of the Jungle Book made for a junior school production. The water had removed sections of bird and plant. Time for a change.

We drive too far and spend far too long buying exactly the right shade and hue of paint . We chose a subtle semi-matt terracotta bloom for our entire exterior and get a ton of boring white for the inside. It’s an early morning start to avoid the sun and I take to the bodega armed with brush and intension.

Jayne would like to help but has been stung many times in many places by flying hornet terrorists. She is not in a good way with crawlingly itchy inflammed wounds and being pretty effectively poisoned. We have anti-scorpion bite strength anti-hystamines and Mezcal. If she makes it through the day she has agreed to see a doctor.

Some more rustic locals use scorpion bites as medicine. When the flu is setting in they deliberately get themselves stung to liven the immune system. Hornet stings are good for arthritis we are informed. Jayne is unconvinced but large areas of her neck and arms do appear arthritis free.

There is now a substantial chunk of semi-matt terracotta bloom on the shower block . A lesser chuck on the bodega apartment. I rehydrate by sitting in the creek+ and review the situation. The shower block looks orange.   The bodega apartment has a wall with very distinctive birds and plants covered in a non-opaque orange wash.   I decide to cover all depictions of beasts and plants with a white undercoat before deploying the orange… semi-matt terracotta bloom . After too much sun and not enough cold beer I have it all covered. I sit in the reviewing position and accept a delivery of just the right amount of cold beer from my poisoned invalid who is slightly conscious. . We both look at the very orange shower block and the now beautifully clean white Bodega apartment. White it is then…… We now have a disturbingly large supply of orange paint.

+We have had a river that became a stream but it is now certainly a creek. Soon it will be a creek bed.

There is a growing dark patch of what looks like fungus on the trunk of the tree outside the bodega. I am warned away from it so have to go and look. The patch on ill advised close inspection is hundreds of caterpillars that excrete noxious stuff and must be avoided. You can’t tell till you are too close.

“Mackino” is coming . It has been foretold since we arrived but now it is coming. The wise ones have declaerd the rainy season over and our road needs to be fixed. Our van wants to come home. It’s a real beast of a Mackino. It tears up tonnes of earth and shifts rocks from road and river bed and arrives out side our place. It rips us a new road right in front of our eyes. It then drives onto the land making a driveway as it goes. A very large area of brush and sharp things are removed and a brand new area of our land appears. Somehow it has danced around the new lime tree that is uncovered. We now have lime, avocado , papaya, lychee, mango and passion fruit trees all waiting for us to water them enough to fruit . No pressure. Mackino is to return and forge us a roadway & parking for van and truck next to our house. We love Mackino !

The new road is really awful, quite terrible in fact . For us , however, it is a delight. All those lovely janky rocks are in different places and it has taken a good minute off our transit time to town. Better than this is the fact the Django can get to our house. For the first time ! I no longer have to carry too much stuff from the ranch in the dark ( yes that has become a regular thing ).

Truck lives. It has taken a while. Jesus the mechanic performed his miracle despite much faffing about and we now have two vehicles out here. There is more to be fixed and we have arranged a constant supply of parts from USA through a new friend who flys there and back regularly to his restaurant in Colorado with extra luggage space. He’s our new best friend probably. Over time we can get a whole Toyota shipped down in 50 Ib lumps.

Coco-nuts are not what they seem. Coco de Agua is how they call the Bounty Bar ones we all know and have an opinion on. What was new to me was the popularity of Coco Nuts. We have an endless supply out here. They are small and tough and after much work reveal a thin layer of soft orange flesh that tastes unsurprisingly like coconut but with an added exotic flavour I can not yet best describe. Kids love em.

Now there have been some incidents that have been sent to test our resolve. One of which I am still bemused by. Our kitchen space with beautifully fitted new sink just needed a coat of polyurethane to seal the wood surfaces. All kicheny things were temporarily balanced on chairs and tables and a new varnish coat was applied . Now we realise that a humid tree house is not the best environment to dry anything. We really do understand that to be true.. however. It’s been over a week now of sharing our space with kitchen stuff. The surfaces in our kitchen are distinctly sticky. Just sticky enough to glue anything we leave on them in place. We have decide to find it amusing rather than stickily frustrating. We are convinced that if we give the stated 4 hour drying time another week or two all will be well. We will have a worktop with the history of the past few weeks glued to it and we will one day get our chairs and table back.

Good news today is that we will not run out of water.   Quite a major thing. There was an issue. The old guy who owned the land above us where the waterfalls are died last year. The current caretaker decided last week to fence off the waterfalls, remove everyones water lines and refuse to provide water or access to the falls unless she is paid. She is the wife of another older guy who died due to a fall at the waterfalls recently. It’s all very strange and a bit of a worry. The waterfalls are gorgeous , a local attraction and are right next to us. They also provide year around water to all of us around here which is especially important during very dry months. Much land in Mexico is actually owned by the Ejido tribe which keeps the land in trust for the people of Mexico. One of the many reasons you need so much legal advice when you buy land here. Lots of folk think they own land here. Thankfully this is such a case. The Ejido tribe have ruled the waterfalls belong to the people and can’t be owned or commercialised. Relief.

Now the most magic sought after wood around here is Parota. Our house is pretty much made of it. It resists all that nature throws at it , brushes off termites and mould and rot. When something is made of Parota it lasts and costs. During the storm a huge old Parota fell in the river closest to town. A local company bought it immediately from the ranchers who owned the land and set about it with chain saws. All the offcuts mysteriously disappear every night. A few mysterious offcuts have appeared in my house this morning with the full family crew. I help carry massively heavy lumps of Parota up all the steps avoiding our new seedling plantation usefully located on them. Add a chainsaw , a hammer and a handful of industrial nails and we have a new four poster Parota bed to house our new mattress. Let it dry out for a month or two and we will stain it to match the house. We promised that we would not compromise on a decent bed. We have achieved no compromise at very little cost. Not one item from Home Depot ++ either. Great result .

++ We have boycotted Home Depot and Walmart in PV who both offer overpriced everything in exchange for “a gringo friendly environment.” We have found them not only expensive but fairly useless and so our mission to support local business is not only a much more human, practical and friendly experience but saves us a load of cash too.

It’s full moon and 3 am and the jungle is lit with a moony glow and my laptop. Insects are singing more softly tonight. Maustrappe is on my shoulder purring like a well fuelled generator. Moonlight picks out the climbing vanilla next to the balcony and a patch of dormant orchids . It’s a peaceful place. I am relaxed and motivated . Good job. I’ve six windows to build today.

Jungle Management

The cat is not living up to its name. In order to extricate itself from the new situation Mortimer is building a house in our roof just above my head when I try to sleep. I’m losing respect. Morning arrives with a ladder and gloves and sleep deprived zeal to remove his happy house. No sooner is bucket filled with a handful of mouse house, Mortimer , with an equally surprised friend attached to her back , bolts for it across the roof beams and they both disappear . Maustrappe has noted the incident.

Day evolves into the collection of palm leaves. Our man needs 200 leaves to make the palapa roof. First tree causalties are the two that we bought off the neighbour for equivalent of £20 each. My newly gifted chainsaw has its first two notches. The big old Capomo tree make the ground shake as it realeases a hug chunk of sky to the ground. Green canopy becomes blue sky. The wood is only really good for burning but makes for good cooking and charchoal . We have enough wood to cook a lot for a very very long time.

A janky palm tree is next . The wood can be made into a bench or two and all the leaves will soon become roof. Not on our land but we don’t ever celebrate the felling of an old tree. Respectful assasins as we are.   The old RUSH track The Trees plays over in my head. My dusty memory thinks is goes something like…

“ There is unrest in the forest, There is trouble with the trees. As the Maples shout “Oppression !! “ and the Oaks ignore their pleas. “  

The trees and plants so used to shade are blinded by the light and savor new nourishement from protons . Our house is badly on need of protons.

In our favourite Ferritaria ( tools and good things shop ) I found a wire cage mouse trap. Cat and spoons and tippy bottle are ignored and I spend the £2.00. It’s an investment. Our man shows me how to set the thing and with a small plastic sack of peanut butter dangling deliciously from the trigger I put it in the cupboard and glare at the cat.

8.30 pm and dark has settled in and we are in dozing mood under the mozzy nets. SNAP !   Yes , it took about 3 hours of doing it properly to catch Mortimer alive and looking very guilty. She has no idea that if it wasn’t for my inept efforts it would not be here right now. Some less Mortimer friendly soul would have had for her by now . We have had all sorts of poisons and killing things offered up as final solutions.

I have to listen to Mortimer doing her time in the wire cell all night. Rowdy and beligerant to the last she is. I awake and carry her about 1 km over three streams and let her go. She stops and looks at me and runs back the way we came. She gets to the stream and drinks and washes herself and then follows at the heels of my welly boots (walkies style ) until I cross the water back. She then dives into the grass to build herself a raft ! She will be back.

It’s already hot and I arrive back with a few clean buckets and a half a dozen large banana type fruit ( but much bigger) that our man gifted me on the way back.   I’m glad to be home and that Mortimer is still alive ( bit guilty ruining his day ) . I celebrate by jumping into our wonderful refreshing hydrating pool .. with my i-phone. When I realise I scramble my way to removing it from pocket and instantly applying all life saving techniques I can remember. It is not happy.   Oh Khama you are so swift !

I fry slices of the banana/plantain in a large heavy pan and then coat them in the honey from the bucket. Heavenly.

Out truck is making horrible unhappy sounds. Like a pepper grinder chewing a bolt. We have been recommended a mechanic . He is another incarnation of Jesus. A Jehovas Witness so apparently lying is not a thing.for him And he’s a Mexican mechanic. We let that sink in for a moment and drag the squealing truck to him. Jesus is still considering the diagnosis.

How you make your vehicle survive here is down to knowing your Topes and Baches. Mexico is entirely covered in literally millions of Topes ( Toe-pays) speed bumps. Lumps of things in the road that are designed to take out your tyres and undercarriage if you drive over 20km/hr. There is shortage of police and those that are around don’t have much time to enforce anything. So Topes make any journey slower and tests your concentration . They appear at varying sizes from irritating to deadly at any point . The frequency can be every mile or every 50 miles . The speed limit could be 20 or 50 or 80 but these buggers will sneak up on you . It is not uncommon that your passenger wakes you up when you are happily day dreaming /driving screaming TOPE !! as you ram on the brake. Very relaxing …

Worse .. oh so worse are the batches (Bat-Chays) pot holes . Pot holes here are a drama. After the rains they hide right in the middle of every single road . Some may damage your tyres, some will snap your axle, some will send you the centre of the earth. At anytime the car in front of you may vear to the left or right to avoid such a fate. Then every car behind does the same. It’s bizarre ! Even when the day dreams are perfect and the sky distractingly blue the sound of BACHES !! will bring me right back and ready to swerve.

In reality we drive like old blind people. The need to overtake is removed. Idiots here do not overtake wisely. The tales of early deaths is horrible. We have seen the results. Happens with macho attitude to blind hills. Whenever we take a 40 min drive to North or South route 200 we take the pace of the slowest truck and chill. The alternative is too scary and very stupid.

We have no truck so take an hour to walk to Oxxo shop in the Pemex petrol station to get 5kg of ice for beer and a small packet of rice to dry out my phone. The sun bakes me . I arrive back at the pool with 2kg less ice, 1kg less of me, 3 kg of water in my welly boots. Honours even.

Our house in invaded by palm leaf hunters and a truck. . The boys only got about a hundred of them from the solar area and now require at least as many again. Tomorrow they weave their magic and create a roof. So we take the opportunity to put a few extra notches on the chain saw. We live on the North face of a hill. The trees above us deny us light . I am in with the Maples. Oppression ! We really don’t want to see trees downed. The ones that go are blocking light to the entire hillside and “jungle management “ requires some sacrifice we are told over and over again by local wise folk. In total our chainsaw has 6 notches and we call a stop. A very grateful hillside and the house roof are bathed in sun for the first time in years. The humidity drops instantly. And at 4.23 pm you can use our outdoor shower with the sun directly on your body. It’s epic.  The boys leave with immense palm leaves in great quantities sticking a good few meters out the back of the pick up bed . They look like they are riding a green peacock heading towards our new roof.

We consider our jungle management and feel sad for the trees and delighted with the results. Solar system will actually work now. The roof in our house will not rot. We relax into contentment and are abruptly focused by a high pitched squeal and sounds of great distress.

My torch picks out a rather proud Maustrappe with a sorry looking mouse hanging from its mouth. This must have been Mortimers passenger. I had reset the trap with no real hope of a repeat. The mouse is well chewed but not dead. It is in a wretched state made more miserable by Maustrappe pawing it and nibbling bits off him and making whats left of his mousey life pretty intolerable. Cats are vicious bastards. I have seen first hand shrews being slowly disembowelled and juggled at the same time. Vicious. I get a glove and after a few failed attempts grab what is left of the mouse and despatch it to the jungle quickly. The look on that chewed up mouses face when flying through the air into darkness and fire flies will stay with me.

So I have a drowned phone ( so no pictures ..they might be on a cloud somewhere apparently) , a lot more sun hitting ground , a resulting happier jungle, a well named cat, less humidity , lifetime supply of cooking wood, no truck and no mice. I’ll settle for that .

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.