The Prince

July 19^th, 2012

Ace existed before he was born. During the last year of the restaurant, before moving permanently to Mexico, Joseph would introduce his imaginary dog to our dinner guests. He would pet the head of his imaginary dog and would say—meet my dog Ace—
I had accepted the idea of having a dog because I knew how much Joseph wanted a dog. Caring for a pet on a large piece of front beach property was the ideal situation. No city regulations to comply with, just miles of total freedom. Having a dog in our Mexican home proved to be labor-free. I never was a dog lover but Ace changed that. He became my friend.

I looked through the glass door and I could see Ace sleeping peacefully. I continued with the exercise routine I do every morning with Joseph, inside our cool bedroom. Ace knows the program well; he has been listening to it for 12 years.  He is waiting for us to finish our short physical fitness program. At the end, Joseph will take him for a walk on the beach along with Jack, our nine month old boxer. Just about at the end of the cassette he is up and about, ready to go.
 "Ace is laying unusually still, please check on him," I said to Joseph. As I opened the door I knew what was coming. "He is dead," Joseph said as he touched his pretty slim face. He had lost some weight in the last few weeks and in spite of my efforts to prepare special meals for him, his appetite was not good. We knew the end was near but I was not prepared for letting him go, just yet. He was a graceful animal. We called him
The Prince.

Ace lived his entire life in Playa Blanca, a place that most of us refer to as “Paradise”.
His footprints are still in the sand.

Puppy Jack

The baby pineapple is growing well. Our six month old puppy Jack is standing guard to keep the friendly iguanas away.

We are having a baby

Gardening occupies most of my time. It is good physical work and it keeps me in shape. I don’t water the plants and trees as much as I should. I barely keep them alive until the raining season starts.

Joseph started a vegetable garden in a small area next to our kitchen so we could keep it watered more often. He planted tomatoes, zucchini, eggplants, and peppers. After months of TLC (tender loving care) we harvested a small crop: three zucchini, one miniature tomato, and two small pumpkins. The sandy soil is not ideal for cultivation, the water we pump from the well might have trace of salt in it, the sea breeze is damaging to the leaves, the intensity of the sun might give the plants a heat stroke, and finally the friendly iguanas feast on the blossoms. Let’s face it; growing a garden by the Pacific Ocean is not an ideal condition to a healthy crop.  I finally decided to keep the peppers in pots; I gave up the rest.
 I have always planted the green tops of pineapples directly into the soil. They grow into beautiful leafy plants.  Years ago one produced a fruit exactly four years after it was planted. I do not known if this long lapse of time is the actual “gestation” time, but I knew many years would pass until this little miracle happened again. If I had to make a criticism about my garden, I would say that it lacks color, there is too much green.
I have hired a kid to help me watering the back part of the property and while he does that, I water the front. He did not show for work to-day so I took the time to water “his” part. I was just going to give it a kiss and a promise. A bright red spot caught my attention. I looked closer, “is this possible?”

I dropped the water hose and ran into the bedroom, “Joseph, we are having a baby!”
My seventy-three year old husband quickly removed his glance from the TV screen, grabbed the remote and clicked on the mute button. As the voice of the newsman silenced, he said, “we are having what?”
“We are having a baby.” And I quickly added, “come and look, the pineapple is producing a flower.”
I remember from the previous experience of many years ago, how much I enjoyed watching the progress of the flower turning into a sweet fruit; the change of colors, from bright red to a vivid violet. It is a new miracle of nature awaiting for us every morning. Life is good….

2012

Year 2012 has just started. I feel some incertitude in the air. Everybody is talking about how bad the economy is. I have to admit, I did not notice it much. Ever since we have “retired” to Mexico, we have adopted a simple life-style; we have restricted our necessities and still feel we are having a hell of a life.

We have found the treasure we have been looking and working for all our lives: the richness of life is not how much you owe but how much you enjoy having what you have, now.  I have expanded this concept a little further: once you enjoy what you have, you have an irresistible desire to share it with other people.

The beauty, the peace, the richness of life that make my every day a gift are going to be shared with other people on Sundays. After a ten year retirement as a professional restauranteur, I am opening the door of my beautiful home to people who will enjoy eating the food I have prepared in my artistic kitchen, and looking at the art work that Joseph has desplayed around the house. As lovers and appreciaters of arts we have also commissioned a muralist known as El Gitano to do a mural of a Tuscan Villa. While the sun is setting on the horizon of the pacific ocean,  a silent prayer goes through my mind:
"Thank you God for giving me this beautiful day I could share with my husband, our new puppy Jack, our old dog Ace, and our wonderful dinner guests." Life is good....

Happy New Year to everyone who will read this post. I hope you will make your dreams become a reality.