Fifty Shades of Blue

Turquoise, Teal, ultramarine, periwinkle, navy, royal, sky, azure, cobalt.....
Imagine every shade of blue ever described by man and you still would need to conjure at least as many more to visualize the surreal scene before me.
Above, still more shades of blue, puctuated with clouds of cotton white.
The sun transiting it’s arc, facilitating this visual feast, ever changing minute by minute.
Beneath me, turquoise water lapping against the pilings of my bungalow, curiously built above those same waters.
The appearance is of the light emanating from under the water, a luminescent glow that once seen will forever remain a part of my visual experience.

French Polynesia, Tahiti, Bora Bora..... the names evoking exotic, mysterious Pacific adventures.

Now, I’ve always felt that the appropriate if not most romantic means of approaching an island should be by boat, however, as the ferry to Bora Bora from Tahiti has a Friday departure and.... takes at least a half a day, and as it’s Wednesday and I don’t wish to wait until Friday .... I make do with the best alternative.
I take a 54minute flight.
Your plane approaches, your first impression........ the blues. The entirety of the island is encircled by the most marvelous infinite gradations of blue.
It is... quite simply....spectacular.

The vertiginous and verdant island at the center is almost completely encircled by a narrow ring of slightly less verdant Motus (islands) with those marvelous infinite gradations of blue filling the space between.
It is frankly, unlike anything I’ve ever before seen.

A water taxi transports us from the airport at one end of the island across the marvelous infinite gradations of blue to our destination.... a small Motu located at the other end of the island.
The journey circumnavigates the mountain, it’s steep slopes belying it’s volcanic origins.

Now in sight, our destination, a petite Motu...and curiously built above the most stunning luminescent turquoise water you could imagine....a string of Polynesian styled bungalows rimming it’s shoreline

Our’s is hardly the only instance of these “curiously” built above the water bungalows.... there were many examples to be  passed on the way here.
You see for all my blubbering about these marvelous infinite gradations of blue, the reason you undertake such an  arduous journey to arrive at this place is for one and one reason only......that most beautiful blue water.


Having  arrived...... what does one do you might ask....
Reclined, chaise lounge atop the cantilevered deck of my “curiously” built above the most stunning luminescent turquoise water bungalow.... a Vanilla Tahitian Rum in hand ... I gaze upon the most surreal scene of infinite blues.

To quote Poo, “People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day”.

After 38 years, the honeymoon that we never had.

Sunrise over Bora Bora

That luminescent turquoise water

Bungalows

An infinite gradation of blue.

The verdant and vertiginous island at the center

Bungalows and blue.

More bungalows and blue....never tire of seeing this.

I could not have designed a more perfect breakfast. NZ smoked salmon, home made yogurt with home made jam, fresh fruit and a surprisingly good croissant. 

So obviously the fish was outstanding, but a special find was a Tahitian style ceviche  made with ahi tuna and coconut milk. The locals eat it for breakfast.

Sunset over Bora Bora......Bye

My North Carolina Mountains, Reflecting On The First Week Of Fall

It may be an understatement to say that the Spring and Summer of 2013 will go down as something of a disappointment, nowhere more so than up here in the NC Mountains.
However, putting those disappointments behind me, I must say that these last couple of weeks of Summer have been, surprisingly...well, quite nice really. So, you can no doubt imagine my utter delight when the forecast for week one of Fall here was for a damn near perfect week. You know the sort, night-time temps in the high 40's- lo 50's and the daytime highs in the lo-mid 70's. Blue skies, breezy, puffy white clouds and not a drop of rain in sight.
Right! No doubts about where we’re going to spend the week. And little doubts of how.
Our little "mountain farm" should provide the perfect retreat. "Far from the maddening crowd" , but surprisingly convenient for a place most people would describe as "out in the sticks". It’s just a 15 minute drive to town. A 40 minute walk with nearly 500 foot gain in altitude to Virginia and the glorious ridge-line view. A 20 minute drive to the New River Trail. Oh...and a 2 minute walk to "Gordon Pond".
A whole week of walkin’, ridin’, eatin’, drinkin’, and just plain ole chillin’. That’s what I want!

Welcome to the "Farm"

Over the creek and through the woods...

Walkin’...
This is fantastic walking country, if, that is, you don’t mind a bit of ... ok, a lot of uphill walking. But, as they say, the view is most definitely worth the climb. Starting at around 2500 feet, you walk out the roughly level 1/4 mile driveway, turn left and.... bam! You’re looking up at the 8% grade of what we call "Fender Mountain". For the next mile or so, it’s nothing but up, up, up Fender Road. Passing by the neighboring dairies, we have 3  , and on to ever increasing long-range vistas. It’s a spectacular mixture of rolling green high mountain pastures with the hazy Blue Ridge as a backdrop. A network of these little lightly traveled rural roads provides a variety of choices for a daily walk. Once you top-out on the ridge, around 3000 feet , "huff-puff", the road levels out considerably, you find yourself surrounded by 360 degrees of jaw-dropping views. It’s just magical!!
At any time of the year, well at least the warm bits when I’m here, there’s always a rhythm of activity. Cutting, raking, baling and putting up the big rolls of hay. Planting, cutting and putting up the corn. Spraying the "organic" fertilizer on the newly mown or cleared fields. Tilling and planting the Winter cover crop. There is almost always the drone of a tractor in the air. It’s a strangely comforting sound, especially if you’re not the one running it.
This week, all around us... time to cut the corn. Tall, really tall corn. 10 foot or more from the Summer’s overly bountiful rains, turned lightly brown. Time to harvest. I pass my neighbor’s fields. The combine, gobbling up huge swaths of tall stalks, grinding it into silage and spewing it into it’s companion truck. And in just minutes, another there to take it’s place. Each lumbering off under it’s burden to the nearby "silage pit", where it is piled to ferment, and provide the cows with Winter feed. Sandy often jokes as we pass one of our neighbor’s pits on our walk, "I don’t know what smells worse, what goes in or what comes out"? Aint it true?
The rhythms of the farms, the daily sound of the milk truck run up and then down "Fender Mountain", the barely perceptible changes of the seasons, the wave of a passer bye, a brief stop to chat with a neighbor. Each of these parts being exceeded by the whole experience.
　

Up on the ridge



Almost like dancers, these two were perfectly synchronized



On the way up "Fender Mountain"

Ridin’...
There may have been a time in my life when I might have hopped on my bike and hauled my ass up "Fender Mountain" or the like... but, that time is not now.
That’s not to say I’ve lost my taste for riding, far from it actually. It’s just, I like my riding a bit more horizontal these days.
We are most fortunate indeed to have such a horizontal opportunity in the nearby New River Trail. It’s a rails-to-trails parkway complete with the original railway trestles and tunnels. The whole affair from Galax to Pulaski Virginia is about 56 miles. A bit ambitious perhaps, but, of course you can do it in stages. Our favorite stage... begin at the Galax trail head and ride the 12 miles or so along picturesque Chestnut Creek down to the junction at the New River. Brief rest, a long slow drink, often a chat with some other riders, and... it’s a delightful 12 miles ride back to Galax. Almost always a picnic lunch is enjoyed at a suitably scenic spot along the way. Now that’s what I call ridin’!!

A lovely way to spend the day. 

Lunchtime picnic at Chestnut Falls 

Eatin’...
The "farm experience" is heavy on the eatin’.
I love good food. I love to eat good food. And, I love to cook good food.
Good food is simple, fresh ingredients prepared simply. No heavy sauces to cover it up. No fru-fru presentations. I want to taste the freshness of each ingredient.
So.... a stop by the farmer’s market for some local fruit and veg, the grocery store and,  my kitchen’s stocked for the weeks feasting.
What do I cook? Well it’s Fall now. What I eat and drink will usually reflect the season.
Lunchtime’s a little cool today, I might prepare a hearty potato-leek soup with herbed pita toasts washed down with a hearty brown ale. Warm evening on the back deck might call for a onion/red pepper/squash/cauliflower/tomato ragu with farfalle pasta and a glass of Syrah. Yet another warm evening and charcoal grilled thick bone-in pork chops, brushed with Dijon mustard and sprinkled with herbes-de-provence, black pepper and kosher salt. The first half of that bottle of Syrah went perfectly. Another cool evening... braised NC cabbage with new potatoes, NC apples and smoked sausage. Oh... and more brown ale. Cooler evenings becoming the norm... saute the rest of that smoked sausage, make some milk gravy and biscuits... and skillet fried NC apples with lots of butter and cinnamon. Oh yeah....
And... there’s the local faves for a dinner out.
Brown’s Restaurant, family owned, is "home style" done right. Simple without an ounce of pretentiousness, they serve-up some mighty fine food. My choice is locally raised Rainbow Trout fried to a golden brown.
Mis Arados reflects the growing Latino presence in these Mountains. This family owned restaurant, well ingrained into the local culture, is always busy. This is without a doubt some of the best Mexican food I’ve had outside of Mexico. Ahh... Chilaquilles alla plancha (with chicken) and a cold Victoria.
Motleys out in Laurel Springs serves-up some surprisingly good Eastern NC style barbecue . For those of you who don’t know, it’s smoked pork butts, pulled (shredded) with a vinegar based sauce, and....it’s served on a plate, not a bun, with barbecue slaw and fries (sweet potato being my choice).
How can I eat so much? Well yes I do love to eat, a lot of things, but... I just don’t especially like to eat a whole lot at a time.
And... remember all that walkin’ and ridin’.
　

Drinkin’...
It’s true, good food and good drink make life so much more pleasant.
Just as my Fall palate for food changes, so it does for drink.
Summer will find me with a crisp Lager or Pilsner. A fruity/dry white , perhaps a blend, and, of course, a dry French Rose (always). All perfect for the lighter fresh Summer fare.
Fall’s arrival finds me drinking the brown ales, maybe a Belgian, an English or even a Munich Oktoberfest.
Wines trend to be full flavored reds, a Syrah, a Cote-du-Rhone, Bordeaux or Burgundy. Perfect for the heartier Fall/Winter cuisine.  
And then....
And then there's Champagne! Champagne I will drink at any time with almost any food. It is quite simply, nearly a perfect food wine.  Really!   And,  I just love it!

Warm Fall day by the pond. Sipping a glass. Maybe a dark Rose... a Chardonnay blend.... Champagne.....

Just makes life so much more pleasant.
　

Chillin’...
　
With all that walkin’, ridin’, eatin’ and drinkin’ it might sound little time’s left for just plain ole chillin’. You’d be wrong to think that.
I’m a strong believer in sittin’ on the front porch doing nuttin’ in particular. Maybe watchin’ the leaves fall or the light as it filters through the trees. Idle time is it’s own reward.
And... there’s "Gordon Pond". It’s the prize of the farm. 20 years ago my father upon seeing this swampy piece of land said "son, you need to build yourself a pond there". Heard that over and over. He’s gone now. Five years ago I finally built that pond, "Gordon Pond".
It’s a place just made for idling away an afternoon, sipping a glass of Rose and watching the big puffy white clouds drift by.
The water, by now a bit too cool. The hot sunny days, tubing on the pond, cold beer in my hand ... now just a memory.
But still... warm afternoon, sun on bare skin, cool breeze blowing across the pond, glass of bubbly in hand, best girl by my side.
Oh yeah. This is pretty sweet.

"Gordon Pond"

Bubbly by the pond

La Fragata

Playa del Carmen, Mexico.
Corner of 1st Ave. And 26^th St.
One block from my apartment.
I have walked past here for two years, probably 40-50 times, at least.
Hidden in plain sight, little palapa roof jutting out and over the sidewalk.
La Fragata.    Now, I have to say that I am maybe more than a little disappointed in myself. Maybe, I thought it was just some little local neighborhood bar or something. Who knows what I thought.
But... as I said, "hiding there in plain sight" was truly a "gem".
A charming and petite (really petite) little restaurant, maybe 8-10 tables. Open front and spilling out onto that palapa covered sidewalk.
Just the sort of place I’m always on the lookout for.
The menu (there are only four copies, so you may have to wait a bit for one) is brief and heavily tilted toward the local seafood. A blackboard as you enter, list the daily specials, and they really are specials and they really do change daily.
The star here is the food.
Simple, fresh and local ingredients, prepared simply. No overpowering seasonings or heavy sauces. Chef Beatriz guides their preparation with a delicate touch.
The subtle tastes of fresh fish and shellfish, they shone through. When this is done well, as it is here, the experience is, well, quite magical.
Chef Beatriz Valenzo Olivar can craft some mighty fine food!
Like... The Shrimp Tacos. Done in an understated marinade, lightly grilled with a hint of carmelisation and served on fresh corn tortillas, three to a plate. They are nothing short of spectacular. Fresh brite flavors of lime, cilantro, onions..., but, it’s the shrimp. The shrimp are the star of this show. Tender, sweet and fresh, they taste of the sea. Add a cold Bohemia Clara, pure perfection!
These are a must!!
So let's see... what else have I tried? Well... there's the fish tacos, grilled and fried... Sandy's favorite, and a very  close second to the shrimp tacos in my opinion. The soups, a fantastic Caldo de Marisco (seafood soup) and a totally cool Crema (cream soup) made with Chaya, a spinich-like herb common to Mexico. Or how about the best grilled sea bass in butter sauce that I think I've ever tasted and a sea bass cooked French style "en papillote", in a packet with fresh herbs and vegetables.
Seriously, I do not exagerate! The food is simply amazing!
We have dined here now no less than a half a dozen times. It really is that good!
Chef B. runs the back of the house. Her brother Francisco runs the front along with their delightful staff. All were committed to ensuring that you felt welcome and were completely satisfied with your dining experience.
Oh... and if they happen to have fresh mussels (mejillones) on the blackboard, go for it!
Positively the best mussels I’ve had anywhere outside of France.

I still can’t believe that I missed this little jewel  in the past years. But, next year, you can bet I won’t miss it!
To all our friends at La Fragata, thank’s.
Best of luck and see you next year.

Kevin

Palapa covered sidewalk at La Fragata

The awesome Shrimp and Fish Tacos

Menu at La Fragata

More menu at La Fragata

Playa, "Teasing Her Charms"

So, if I’m going to be honest with you here, Playa was not going to be my first choice for a Winter escape. But, I mean, let’s be serious, it’s all about the beach, now isn’t it?

Well at least that’s how it started back in 2011 when we spent a couple of weeks in Playa and a couple in Puerto Vallarta
Playa was not Puerto Vallarta. PV had a thriving arts community, a lovely little public market and that wonderful Malecon with it’s famous public sculptures. It had soul!
It did not, however, have a great beach. Really! It didn’t!
Oh, you could take a water taxi or public bus , and in an hour or less could be on a pretty decent beach, but... the Pacific. Well in short, it’s grey, a bit too rough and the sand is a dull brown.
Yeah, I know... picky, picky, picky.
Sandy says, if you could take the beach at Playa and move it to PV, well... you’d have perfection.

Now, all of this isn’t to suggest that Playa’s an awful place, far from it in fact. And don’t forget, PV is the "also ran" in this story.
No, it’s just that, Playa, well, it takes a bit more effort to "tease her charms" into view.
Obviously, there’s that beach. The "illuminated" turquoise water, the white sand and the gentle surf. Yes, as beaches go, this one’s just about perfect.
Oh... and there’s also the matter of a relatively inexpensive and short (2.5hrs) direct flight to Playa. It’s plenty big enough to offer all the "mod-cons", but not too big and it’s managed to avoid the 24 hour party that is Cancun. Add to that an affordable well furnished apartment at the Luna Blue boutique hotel. Big palapa covered patios with a beautiful courtyard garden. Lovingly managed by some of the nicest people you'll ever meet and... just two blocks from the beach!
Well... nobody’s canceled Winter as of yet, and with three years and counting, I’m finding more and more of Playa’s charms. You know, it’s really turning out to be a pretty sweet place to "sit-out" Winter.
Now... what about that beach!
Sometimes you just gotta let the pictures do the talking’ for you.

                              

I know that I’m really spoiled here, my "home beach" is Mamita’s Beach. Two blocks down and one over, less than a five minute walk. That’s it! And... it just happens to probably be the finest stretch of beach in Playa.


The "Flora and Fauna" of the Beach
I love Palm Trees. I love Palm Trees even more along a beach. Palm Trees mean I’m somewhere I want to be. A beach with Coconut Palm Trees, well that’s perfect, now isn’t it?
You see, I’m absolutely crazy about coconut. I could eat, or drink, . coconut in just about any way you could imagine.
Just mind where you sit... those coconuts, they have a nasty habit of falling.
　

Mind The Coconuts

And now, a word about the "fauna" of the beach.
I’m totally unapologetic about my keen fondness for the "scenery" of the beach.
Acres of mostly young, bare, brown female form.
I mean, if you’re a normal healthy hetero male, and I am, then this place might seem near to Heaven.
Topless,,, yeah you got that here, don’t mind it a bit. But... it’s those Brazilian bottoms I’m talking’ about. I mean, just check em out. They’re everywhere... and, well... they’re lovely.
Now, on this I gotta say I'm luckier than most. Sandy probably doesn't condone my "fondness" but she tends to overlook it, and... "I always remember who I came to the dance with".    

The beach is at most points, broad and with a gentle slope. Perfect for walking, and, there are few things I adore more than a long walk along the beach. I’ve blogged about this before, but, it’s almost a spiritual experience for me.

                     

Being Kevin you just knew that sooner or later, this would all segue into food, didn’t you?
Well, late in the morning as I return from my long walk along the beach, I stop by my favorite frutas (fruit) vendor. He parks his little pedal cart a few blocks up the beach from Mamita’s. For me a stop is obligatory. A cup of freshly cut pineapple sticks with a squeeze of lime juice and a sprinkle of arbol chile powder. If that sounds a bit odd, I’m here to tell you, it’s delicious!
Back at Mamita’s, Sandy waits for me to return, pineapple in hand. Also means it's about time for the first cerveza (beer) of the day.
Order up!

Now, I love good food, and I love to eat out. But, there’s no way I could eat out every day for a month straight, no matter how good the food . No way!
Well, with one notable exception, that is. Lunch... ceviche, as good as it gets. Ceviche... every day!
Yes, every day!





Our Daily Ceviche



So, I need a place to cook and I need a fresh Market.
Our apartment comes with a decent little kitchen, and... don’t laugh, I bring an electric grille. Come on now... I love grilled meats, and, with a palapa roofed patio, you probably don’t want to grille with charcoal, do you? I also bring my own knives and an assortment of spices.
I’d say, I’m pretty well set-up.
The market, well, it’s not exactly a public produce market... bit disappointing that. But the DAK Market, a privately owned green market also with bulk foods and specialty items serves adequately in the absence of a public market.
Add two big grocery stores and a couple of Italian deli markets, all within a 6, maybe 7 block walk. It works.
I’m often asked, "what do you cook". Well, pretty much what I do anywhere. My cuisine is , best described as, Mediterranean in style. You know, French, Italian and North African. Lots of fresh salads, grilled meats, seafoods and pasta dishes.
Oh, I love Mexican food, and I do prepare it often back in North Carolina. But, here, there’s just so much good authentic Mexican food to be had. Why would I try to top that?

Check Out Those Grill Marks

The only real challenge might be sometimes finding the right ingredients, or, a suitable substitute. Again, there’s always that "similar but different" thing goin’ on.
For instance, try to find black pepper around here. You see, Mexican people don’t use it so much.
I'm sure they're like,  we have 200 kinds of chile peppers, who needs black pepper?
So this year, I brought one of those bottles of black pepper with the grinder on top.
You adapt.

We’ll eat-in maybe four nights a week, leaving three to eat out. Making them a little special, if you will.
Between our apartment and the beach you’ll find 5^th Ave., the epicenter of tacky-touristy Playa.
Mediocre food at inflated prices. Just like tourist fare anywhere and defiantly not for me.
Go back from the beach a mere 3-4 blocks and... they’re there. Wonderful little authentic and inexpensive eateries.
I’ve already written about this year’s "find" La Fragata. We’re absolutely crazy about this place!
Over near the DAK Market , off 30^th is another favorite. An authentic old-style Mexican grille. El Fogon is my go-to for Arrechera. Skirt steak, thinly sliced and marinaded in a garlic marinade. Grilled over charcoal, served with beans, cactus, grilled knob onions, guacamole, an assortment of salsas from mild to explosive and fresh warm corn tortillas. Oh my! Yuum!
Love their Tacos al Pastor. Similar in idea to Middle Eastern Gyro’s, but made with wonderfully seasoned pork, served with a piece of fresh pineapple on a corn tortilla. Yeah!!
A cold cerveza, or two, and I’m good!
Also, this year we stumbled upon Restuarante Mestizo, a lovely little Italian-Mexican fusion open-fronted bistro nearby. Had maybe the best bruscetta I’ve ever eaten, made with fire roasted tomatoes and lotsa EVO and garlic on lightly "charred" crostinis. This was followed by an absolutely yummy Fettuccine Alfredo with a guacamole sauce. Hey, it worked!
I didn’t see beer on the menu, so when I asked, the Italian owner/waiter in my worst Italian/Spanish/English, he  replied,  "no problemo".
What kind? He then dashed a couple of doors down the street, into a little c-store, and returned with two cold beers. Nothing to it!
His partner, swears her Bologinese Sauce is the real thing, to die for. Gotta try it she says.
Next year...
We’ve now found quite a few little places like these. They make things interesting. Great food with low prices and charming people. They’re real! They’re here!
You just have to look for them.
Love it!

                       
                                    



Making The Al Pastor Tacos At El Fogon


And more...
How about the little wine shop, Off The Vine, not two blocks from the apartment. Wow, what a great selection of Mexican Wines he has. Never tried them before. Scarce in the US . Who knew they'd be this good! And a couple of Italian delis, real Proccuitto and Pecarino. Or a fresh pasta shop, Util Pasta. And... don’t forget... Chez Celine, a French owned bakery with awesome baguettes and croissants.
Put it all together, it works!

Yeah....
Given the chance, Playa really grows on you. This year I came determined to "tease-out" some more of her charms.
Yeah, the beach is totally awesome. But, that can all get a bit one dimensional. I need  more sometimes, and... I’m finding it right here in Playa

Kev



 

                                                               

I Just Love Odd Little Things Like This

Garden Courtyard At our Apartment

         

      

                                  

That's One Crazy Grouse

Five weeks or so ago, I went up to the mountain house for the first visit of Spring. A warm Winter and early Spring promised grass, and lots of it. So.... I, not wanting a repeat of last years mowing and "baling" fiasco, wanted an early start.
Aaah, one of the first "rites of Spring". I was actually excited about mowing grass. Geez!
While mowing behind the pond, I spotted a grouse at the edge of the pine woods. Not acting too afraid of me, I suspected "she" had a nest nearby and was attempting to ward me off.
Fast forward, three weeks ago, and, same thing occurred. Same location. Cool!
Oh.... sorry.... for those of you who don’t know what a grouse is. It is a bird. About half the size of a chicken, with a speckled brown plumage, a beautiful tail that can fan like a turkey and a peculiar collar of feathers that can "puff-up" when it’s excited. My previous experience with them had been limited to hunting with my father when I was a boy.
I was more than a bit excited to see grouse here, what, with coyotes, hunters and the disappearing habitat.
Fast forward, this past weekend. Again me, mowing, around the pond, but this time, nearer the front. A grouse, and it was agitated! It would come out from the growth at the waters edge and literally attack the mower, pecking at it’s tires. Why, I almost ran over the poor thing. Again, must be a momma with a nest. Then, around the backside, same as before. Another grouse, at the edge of the pine woods, not as aggressive as the other. Wow! Two grouse. Now, this is exciting!
Back at the house I tell Sandy of my experience. She too has had a siting, but not a grouse, a turkey... she thinks. Made a small funny noise, it did. You mean like that, I said. Yes, yes, that’s it! And, looking over the edge of the porch rail we both spot... a grouse. Wow! Three in one day. We’re polluted! Sandy, that’s no turkey, that’s a grouse. Can’t you tell the difference? Actually the next day we did spot a turkey walking near the house, but.......

Now this grouse was determined to be our friend. To say that it hung around, no.... it was like a baby duck, following my every move. Always with a kind of "clucking" noise, sometimes a "whimpering" noise. Made us feel terrible. Poor thing must be hungry. Dinner that night on the back porch. Me, Sandy and... the grouse. Know I shouldn’t have, but, tried feeding it with bits of our dinner. Bread, corn, nothing. Not a peck, not a sniff, nothing. And it looks healthy. It comes close, let’s me get very close. Must have been hatched and raised by people. So tame. But, what does it eat?
Next day. More of the same. Me, a bunch of chores to "tick-off", the grouse, my trusted companion. I plant the basil, the grouse "helped". I dig up a couple of wild ferns for transplant, the grouse "helped" by hopping up onto the fern as I was easing it from the earth. I plant the ferns in the planter by the back porch, the grouse "helped". I nearly dumped pine bark mulch on him/her, it was quite funny actually. I’ll bet the little creature put in half a mile or more following me around that morning. And.... it was getting quite familiar, not at all afraid. I could almost touch it... but... it would tense up, peck at my hand, maybe sorta fly up at me. A couple of times it seemed to run at me. Oh well......
Morning’s chores complete, I’m a mess. Time for a shower. Afterwards, down the stairs and toward the front porch, Sandy’s sitting in the living room, pissed! "Your bird" is outta control! It flew up onto the porch and it flogged me! I tried to fend it off with my magazine, but it just kept coming after me! I came inside and it attacked the screen door!
Wow! What was that about? How Hitchcock!
By now the birds not to be seen. We go out to sit on the porch, Sandy a bit timidly. No bird.
Whew!
In no time I hear something below the porch in the leaves. Yep, the bird. The bird’s walking around the porch, and.... up the stairs.... and onto the porch. Standing there in the middle, it is whimpering. Sandy’s telling me to do something!
Not having my broom, an object I’ve frequently used against obstinate animals, cats, dogs, etc. ....to the amusement of my wife and friends... I do the next best thing, I grab the local phone book. Holding the book in an open position, I much like a matador, shoo the grouse off the porch and down the stairs. All the while the bird’s making that whimpering sound. I don’t feel so sorry for it at the moment. Maybe it’s not a whimper after all?
Well I’m here to tell you, it was none too pleased with me. It adopted the posture and temperament of one of those fighting cocks. Hopping up, flapping it’s wings, lunging at me. For a startled moment the phone book became my shield.
Now wait a minute! Kevin’s not going to put up with this! I gotta show this grouse just who’s the boss!
Yeah right. Me, flapping the phone book at and then into the grouse. The grouse hopping, flapping, lunging and pecking and tearing at the phone book with its claw adorned feet.
Damn obstinate bird!!!
Well, this went on for the better part of ten minutes. My goal, not to injure the bird, but to dominate it, make it submit! Ten minutes pass and the grouse’s obviously tiring, me too! I push it to the ground with the phone book, trying to hold it down, wanting to hear it say "I give". I back off, facing the grouse. It doesn’t advance. Whew!!
That evening out of curiosity, I walk over to the pond, wondering about the other grouses. And... no grouses, nothing! Hummm? I wonder? I wonder if this crazy grouse is the only grouse?
Next morning, the grouse is back. And.... it acts as though it has unfinished business with me.
It comes to the porch steps.
Right!!! Where’s my phone book?
That’s it!! You and me budd!!
Again, me the matador, the grouse the bull. And this time I mean to finish it. I can’t have a grouse chasing Sandy and I every time we go out the door. No siree.
Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, we "spar". The grouse is ferocious. Me more determined than ever. Sandy "don’t hurt it". Again, the bird tires and I try the pin it down strategy. I don’t know why I think this will work, I just do. After two or three "pins", I hold the bird down for maybe twenty seconds beneath the phone book. Removing the book, the bird walks off.
Later, and all through lunch on the back porch..... no grouse.
Later that day, I go down to water the newly planted basil. On the path there, I spot it, the grouse, in full territorial display... tail fanned and collar fully poofed. He was a majestic sight. I just walked on by within a couple of feet of the bird, ignoring it, and it me so it seems. It, no lunging, no flapping or pecking. Me, no counterattacks. The same on my return pass.
Well. I guess this means I’m the biggest meanest cock! Uh... at least to the grouse that is.

Sorry, but for all of this tale, there are no pictures. No camera. Cell phone, decidedly "old school", of no help either. So.... I leave it to your imagination.

She's Just a Tease

It is.... well.... I mean.... well .... it's just a little frustrating. Isn’t it?
It is late February, early March here in the Piedmont. And.... it wants to. It want’s sooo bad, to be Spring.

And... after Mexico... well... Mexico... you know... she’s a party girl, isn’t she ?
No holds barred, straight up fantastic. Day after day after day of nothing but.... well great!
I mean, you can almost tire of it. Well... not really.

But now. Here. The Piedmont. The Spring. She.... she wants to... you know...real bad.

Cold, dreary, dismal. The disappointment almost gone now. The boredom, the gloom, the repression.... giving way to anticipation.
Today, this day. Blue skies. Morning.. not so cold. The breeze... not so blustery.

Just emerging. That green. That young green. I long for that supple glow to envelope me.
Sap ...rising. Rising to nourish swelling buds. Splitting forth. Soft tender shoots. Promise of fragrant blossoms of desire. Luscious fine filaments of soft new unmown grass. Kissed by remnants of moist dampness, of mornings dew yield tenderly under bare feet..

She teases me.

I feel it. I feel anticipation.

Reclined in my comfort, I shed the trappings of Winter. I expose myself to her abundant charms. The sun, warm to my touch. Warming my bare skin. Warming till I’m flush. Silky breeze caresses me. Softly.... tempering the rising heat.

I look to the sky.... azur blue, irrestible. I cannot look away. Soft puffs of white clouds, wafting by my eye. They provoke, no, they excite the imagination.

Virgin green. The glow of the warm sun. She envelopes me.

Oh yeah.... she teases me all right.
Spring... upon me. It is so.... so close. About to.... overcome me.
Unashamedly, slave to my sensations. Content to let the moment wash over me.

Perfection.
Spring, she plays the part well. The perfect lover. The moment. One builds into the next.
Anticipation. Expectations rise. Three o’clock. Climax to this sensuous day at hand.

But.... soft puffs of white, now, give way to expanses of translucent gray. The green glow, is lost, no longer enveloping me.
The suns warm caress leaves my skin. The soft breeze, now pricks at me with a chill.
Anticipation... expectations, go limp.
Frustration.
Gone. Her promise. Her charms.

Tomorrow..... 52, gray skies and the disappointment of a cold rain.

She has been....she has been teasing me. It is not the time. It angers me.
She is just a tease.
Why do I let her do this to me? Why am I always chasing her the way that I do?
Nobody... nobody likes a tease, most of all a little p***k tease like her!

But....20 March. I know, I’ll do it all again. I can’t resist her. After all, She is Spring.


Channeling my Pagan roots.

"Beachin'"

I get it a lot, ya know? Anytime someone finds out I’m goin’ to Playa for a month. First, Wow, a whole month! That must be great? Yeah..... it is pretty sweet.
Then.... the next question is usually something like, wow, a whole month, what will you do there for a whole month? Do you travel? Do you dive or snorkel, parasail, surf or fish?
Uh...... no!
No, I go to the beach. I play the beach bum. It’s why I’m here.
It’s that simple....really!

6:30, I get up early most days, the birds in my courtyard “jungle” won’t allow me to sleep much past that. A small breakfast of fresh fruit and cereal on the palapa patio. A quick shower, pack my bag and a “long” two block walk to the playa (beach). I usually land a front row seat, I’m early remember? But, sometimes it does help to tip the beach wait staff generously the day before.
Warm morning sun on my skin. Cool breeze coming off the water. Beach to myself. What could be better?
Around 9:30-10:00, I take a long walk, an hour maybe, up the beach. On my way back, I’ll stop by the Mayan fruit vendor’s cart and buy a cup of freshly cut-up pineapple , solemente pina (only pineapple) por favor, it's Sandy’s favorite. In a plastic cup, a squeeze of lime and a dusting of arbol chili powder, oh yeah! I grab a small bag of chicharones hanging from the awning of his pedal cart and a generous shot of hot salsa, por favor. 35 pesos with a tip, that’s about US$2.75.
Mouth watering, I hurry back to find Sandy eagerly expecting the “little” snack we will share. Accompanied by an ice cold Mexican lager with a squeeze of lime, what could be better?
After a well deserved “rest” in the sun I’m thinkin’ I’m about ready for some lunch.
Well, as luck would have it, the patio restaurant here at the beach club does a mean ceviche. Ceviche in these parts is chopped fish, or shrimp, conch or octopus, your choice. Marinated (cooked) in a mixture of lime juice, salt, chopped onions, tomatoes and cilantro. That’s it! Add a basket of “to to pos” (corn chips) and ice cold Bohemia. The perfect lunch!! And so it was. Every day (todos los dios). For me it is the essence of Playa. I will really miss this!
Leisurely lunch complete. It’s back to work! There’s a chair out there on the beach and someone’s got to man it! And.... I’m the man for the job.
The sun, a little warmer now. Thankfully, the cool breeze still blowing in from the water. The beach more crowded by now. The view, I must say the scenery has improved measurably over the morning.
I’m hot! A little thirsty. Think one of those fruity tropical drinks might be called for.
More sun, more breeze, a dip or two in the gentle surf. More eye strain from the now plentiful scenery. Maybe a cold cerveza. Aaah.... yes.... this is why I’m here.
Sometime around five, “the whistle blows” and time to head back to the apartment for a well deserved rest after a hard day in the sun.
Might be a night out. There’s some great little mom and pop Mexican restaurants over around 30th. Or, maybe a pizza, it’s “little Italy”, remember? Or, maybe I’ll just cook-in this evening. Our apartment has a decent kitchen, I love to cook, and hey, I don’t care how much I like real Mexican food, and I do, I can’t eat out every night for a month.
Yes, there’s a number of clubs, bars and even a casino, or so I’ve been told. But, I’m a bit past all that, imagine, me clubbing til 3 or 4 in the morning. Yeah.. Right! So... a quiet evening. Conversation, emails, a blog posting? A quiet drink, perhaps a Cuba Libre with a splash of Mexican vanilla, my touch. Maybe a movie, yes I think a movie from our sizable collection on the PC we’ve brought. Yes, a quiet evening, that’s it!
Tomorrow....... the sunrise, the birds in the “jungle”, It all starts again.

A whole month!
What do I do?
Well...........