Hoping for the best…

… but preparing for the worst.

I’ve lived in Southern California just about my whole life. Although the threat of earthquakes has always been “out there,” I doubt if many Californians have bothered to put together even a basic earthquake preparedness kit. Even though natural disasters occur in all parts of the world, they are easy to ignore in our day-to-day lives. We don’t deny the reality of earthquakes, hurricanes, tornados, tsunamis, or giant wildfires, we just would rather not think about them.

Now, with the latest threat to our health and safety – the Coronavirus – all over the news, a lot of people are starting to pay attention. Maybe it does makes sense to collect some important items just in case we find ourselves quarantined in our homes for several weeks. Californians have long been encouraged to make personal preparations for “The Big One,” but this virus has prompted many people to finally act.

There are already reports of shortages of canned food, disinfecting products, toilet paper, and water storage containers as more and more people realize that, in fact, it can happen here. As the news reports more people being infected – and dying – even greater panic buying will ensue. Those who wait until the last minute could face empty shelves, back orders and, sadly, price gouging.

Looking for hand wipes? Sorry, many stores are already out.

Recently, on the front page of our local newspaper, among articles about election results and the latest CONVID-19 reports, was another earthquake warning. A large fault, which is located very close to where we live, could produce a quake of 6.9 or greater. An earthquake that large could not only damage or destroy thousands of structures, but also cut gas and water service and cause widespread road and bridge failures.

We are not worriers by nature, and we don’t consume media that peddle wall-to-wall, end-of-days, scary “news,” but we also think that taking some precautions is warranted. We have taken seriously the admonitions to wash our hands frequently, avoid touching our faces, and dodge crowds and anyone who shows signs of a cold. Fortunately, since we are retired, we don’t have to worry about ill co-workers. We think our chances of avoiding the virus are pretty good. That being said, we’ve purchased a few things “just in case” and I feel that we are better prepared than we were.

Sometimes it takes something actual – as opposed to just possible – to prompt action. After many years of “meaning to” put together a disaster preparedness kit, we finally have.

Taking a Few Leaps

Meeting someone new often takes a leap of faith; Will they like me? Will I like them? Will we find enough in common, so there aren’t long stretches of uncomfortable silence? Because I am a bit of an introvert, small talk doesn’t come easy to me. I’m much better one-on-one than I am in large groups, but one-on-one means that I have to carry an equal load of the conversation.

Over the six plus years that I’ve been blogging, I have met eight fellow bloggers in real life. Prior to each initial get together, I wondered how the meeting would go. Every time, I took the leap of faith, and I have been please that I did. What I’ve learned about meeting each of these bloggers is that it feels more like catching up with an old friend than meeting someone new.

When I learned that Tracey Stubbs, whose blog, Artistic Pension, I follow, was going to be visiting my city, I leaped at the chance to get together. After some schedule coordination, we managed to arrange a coffee date earlier this afternoon. Just like my other blogger meet-ups, the conversation was comfortable and easy. She is just as nice in person as she is on her blog.

Photo taken by Tracey’s new husband, Mark.

Tracey and I both have been a bit off our blogs lately. Travel, Tracey’s new marriage and a possible relocation, an illness (mine: bad cold, nothing serious), and life in general has taken precedence. We agreed that our blogs are important to us and we missed posting. Yes, we enjoy writing and sharing our stories but, most of all, we love how our blogs link us with others. Writing makes us happy; the connections bring us joy.

Today, Leap Day, seems like the perfect opportunity for me to jump into writing again. Time to finish the posts that are half-completed and come up with new ideas for others. It’s time to leap back in.

New Year, New Age

The Beatles song, When I’m 64, appeared on the Sgt. Pepper’s album in 1967. Each of the four band members were in their twenties at the time. This year, Paul and Ringo – the two who are still with us – will turn 78 and 80, respectively. They may be losing their hair but, as far as I know, they aren’t filling their days mending fuses and digging weeds, nor are they scrimping and saving so they can rent a cottage on the Isle of Wight.

I was eleven when the album was released, and 64 sounded ancient to me. Now that I’m that age, I’ve discovered that it isn’t so old after all. I’m happy to say that, yes, they still need me and, yes, they still feed me, when I’m 64.

Thank goodness they still feed me: my dear husband makes me this yummy caramelized orange cheesecake every year for my birthday. Isn’t it beautiful?

A few days ago, as I was thinking about my birthday, this poem started to write itself in my head. It’s about how the way we think of ourselves matters, and it is often our choice.

We Get to Choose
I am old
I am young
I see the finish line
I’ve just begun

I’ve seen it all
So much to see
I’ve set my limits
I am free

I’ve lived my life
I haven’t yet
My options are few
Nothing is set

Each is different
Both are true
It’s up to me
Which one I choose

Thursday Doors: Grand Doors

The colonial era of Mexico, when it was known as La Nueva España or New Spain, stretched on for 300 years, from the 16th century into the 19th. During this period, the Spanish destroyed many of the original sacred temples and religious sites, replacing them with buildings that reflected the style of architecture found in Spain.

Examples of its colonial past can be found all over the city of Oaxaca. Many of these buildings have been restored and are still in use today, the churches providing daily services, and monasteries and mansions repurposed as museums, galleries, shops, and hotels. Sadly, other colonial buildings are crumbling, victims of time and neglect (not to mention several substantial earthquakes that have rattled the city over the years).

Grand buildings often have grand entrances. This week’s Thursday Doors post features some of the doors leading to Oaxaca’s colonial history.

Behind the doors of Iglesia de Santo Domingo, a wedding ceremony is just about to conclude. The performers are waiting for the doors to open so the celebration – often lasting well into the night, and even into the next day – can begin.

The Basilica de la Senora de Soledad  – built between 1682 and 1690 – featured grand doors leading to other grand doors.

A side door of the Templo de San Matías Jalatlaco. I was tempted to remove the little white sign before I took this picture, but was afraid I’d be struck by lightning.

This church was rather simple compared to many of the huge stone churches in Oaxaca, but that’s probably why I liked it so much… that and its lovely iron gate.

The magnificent Teatro Macadonio Alcala hosts performances ranginging from operas to plays and classical concerts. My husband and I attended a performance of Madama Butterfly, which is set in Japan, live-streamed from the Met in New York, sung in Italian with Spanish subtitles. What a world.

Thursday Doors is a link-up of fellow door aficionados generously hosted by Norm Frampton. Head over to his blog to view all the amazing doors he and others have posted.

Thursday Doors: Aging Doors

Last week, I shared photos from our recent trip to Oaxaca, Mexico of doors that were bright and colorful. Although I am drawn to vibrant colors and bold contrasts, I also appreciate doors that aren’t quite so pristine. Some are fashioned from a hodgepodge of materials, some show the natural patina of time and weather, and some have been sealed off, no longer used for their original purpose. (I’m pretty sure an analogy can be made to our human aging process, but I won’t go there.)

Like so many gates and doors we saw in Oaxaca, I really wanted to see what was on the other side of these:

This next one is for Dan, who likes his Coronas served with a wedge of lime:

Although the actual door isn’t visible, I love the aging art that surrounds it:

Doors that no longer open:

Thursday Doors is a link-up of fellow door aficionados generously hosted by Norm Frampton. Head over to his blog to view all the amazing doors he and others have posted.

Thursday Doors: Vibrant Oaxaca

Just as it was two years ago when we first traveled to Oaxaca, a good number of the pictures I took on our recent trip were of the beautiful and varied doors we saw. Colorful doors that hint at equally artistic interiors; grand doors of churches and historic buildings; decaying doors that wear the patina of time; iron gates and open portals that invite you to step inside. The doors found in Mexico are rich in color, diversity, and history – just like the country itself.

The first set of doors were among the most colorful ones in my collection. Either the door itself was painted a vibrant hue, or it was surrounded by colorful frames and walls.

A close-up of the door knocker

Thursday Doors is a link-up of fellow door aficionados generously hosted by Norm Frampton. Head over to his blog to view all the amazing doors he and others have posted.

Adios Mexico, Hello Home

Santo Domingo at sunset

After six weeks in Oaxaca, Mexico, my husband and I arrived home yesterday. We always have mixed feelings when we end a trip; sad to leave the people, sights, and sounds we’ve enjoyed on our travels; happy to get back to our home, friends, and our familiar routines.

Once I’ve had some time to organize my pictures and re-read my travel journal, I’m sure I’ll have a few more blog posts about our experience. But first, while the trip is fresh in my mind, here is what I already miss about Oaxaca, and a few things that I’m happy to enjoy now that we’re home, sweet, home.

What I’ll Miss

Friendly Faces. The people in Oaxaca – both the native population and the expats – are warm and welcoming. Most people smile as they pass, often saying Buenos Dias, Buenas Tardes, or Buenas Noches, depending on the time of day.

Wonderful Food. Oaxaca is known internationally for its delicious cuisine, and most of it is very affordable.

Chili Relleno served with squash blossoms… yum!

Walkability. We didn’t have a car and didn’t miss it in the least. Just about everywhere we wanted to go, we could walk. Bonus: despite the copious amounts of food we consumed, we both lost a few pounds.

Free, Live Music. It was a rare day that we didn’t encounter music on the streets or in the parks. A well-known singer performing for a large crowd in an outdoor auditorium, a symphony orchestra playing in the central square, a band playing dance music, a guitar and maracas trio, students practicing their drum and bugle music; music is everywhere in Oaxaca.

Celebrations. Weddings, quinceaneras, birthdays, anniversaries, who-knows-what saint’s day; they are all joyously celebrated. And, often, everyone is invited – maybe not to the actual service, but once the celebration spills onto the streets, the more, the merrier.

Art. It’s everywhere. The churches and historical buildings are gorgeous, museums and galleries are abundant, homes and business are brightly painted, murals adorn many of the walls, and local artisans display their creativity in shops and on the streets.

Wouldn’t you love to come home to this mural every day?

Colorful Money. Pesos put our boring greenbacks to shame.

Pretty pesos

Exchange Rate. Right now, the dollar is very strong, and our money went far.

Weather. Mid-seventies to low eighties during the day, cool – but not cold – in the evening

Laundry Service. Our apartment didn’t have a washer/dryer so we took everything to one of the many lavanderias around town. For 20 pesos (about a dollar) per kilogram, they washed, dried, and folded our clothes. They even folded our underwear… I never fold our underwear.

What I Love About Being Home

What’s Familiar. Our house, our neighborhood, our friends, our food, our routine.

What’s Easier.  Being fluent in the native language, drinking water out of the tap, being able to put toilet paper in the toilet.

Wherever we travel – whether around the United States or to another country – we love to embrace all that is delightful and unique about the places we visit. And, whether we are gone a few days, a few weeks, or longer, as sorry as we are to say good-bye, we always appreciate returning to that special place we call home.