Monday, January 31, 2011 — From sadness to joy

I know I said I wouldn't write tonight but I just have to share today with you.

This trip has definitely helped cheer me tremendously. But there are still moments when sadness and longing pay a visit. Usually nights and early mornings are the most vulnerable time. But being with this group of people and sharing thought processes, work, challenges, food and travel with them has helped me in a million ways.

Sarah Swett is a story teller. She writes novels and other genre and weaves tapestries. Our projects are all focussed on forms of story telling. She has been studying processes that are frequented by comics including the use of speech balloons and gutters between drawings. The "gutter talk" has become a metaphor for various sorts of things. It works all over the place. Because I also work in graphics, I'm quite used to thinking of them in relation to the space between columns or pages that are facing each other. Here, weavers are thinking of them and adding imagery to them in the space between small tapestries. Sarah's provocative discussions have led me to think of gutters on a larger scale and possibly another plane. They can just as easily be a specific period of time or a more general portion of stages in one's life. You don't have to accept this stretch of usage but at this time in my life, it works beautifully for me. Along these lines, I have begun to think of this whole trip as a special "gutter time" in my life. I am making decisions, planning projects, looking at realities and generally using this time to make resolutions as one would tend to do at the new year. It cleanses my mind and helps me to develop resolve. It's very possible I would not have been able to make such progress if it weren't for being with this extraordinary group, including Yael and Jean Pierre. Several friends have asked me if I might not like to think of going to a grief group. I hadn't reached the point where I was motivated to try that, but maybe that's exactly what this group is for me. This also may be a stretch to those of you who have chosen to attend such groups and for whom it has been helpful. But this seems to be just the ticket for me.

Getting back to today's jaunt, we drove to Punta Perula, checked out a current favorite little palapa resort that the next group is going to stay overnight at and then returned to the site of Chee Chee's restaurant on the beach. Some of the group walked from the resort to the restaurant after which we enjoyed their trademark ceviche ....... the best I've ever had. Then we ordered fish filet or shrimp or octopus and the like. I had shrimp with garlic and chile. It was hot but delicious. We finished up with three pieces of coffee flan for the group.

After good conversation and some visits with other patrons, we were treated to my second outstanding event of this trip. WHALES AGAIN! Right there in that bay, so close to us I couldn't believe it. Huge mamas, with ever playful babies. Too wonderful. It still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Imagine seeing whales that close two times in two weeks. I wonder if it could be the same group of traveling whales I saw down in Puerto Vallarta. Who knows?

When that show calmed down we decided to take a swim. Getting out beyond the little surf worked well holding onto a friend. Then fabulous swimming almost at the spot where the whales had been shortly before. Because I was slightly traumatized getting out a little too close to an eddy at Yelapa a few years ago, I am always a little nervous leaving the deep water for the beach. Four of us held hands and Yael looked back to pick a good time without a large sneaker and we made it back without a hitch. How good can it feel after such a salt water dip? Fantastic. We dressed and made our way home, appreciating all the sights along the way except for the occasional mindless passing cars. Pretty difficult not to think of this existence as just what the doctor ordered. I'm off to bed and feeling good. Love to you all.

Sunday, January 30, 2011 — Still thinking Aztec

The memory of yesterday's performance is still with us. It was a very long performance and it is almost as if it was drummed into us. I just reviewed the nine movies I made. They are really amazing to watch and I tried to place one on yesterday's blog. I tried it twice and each time there was an error or it took over an hour to download. I learned a thing or two despite this because there is an option for the video to be shown on YouTube and that seems like a good way to go if it is going to take so long doing it directly through the blog. I'll keep trying things out. It would be fun to have but I suspect the files are too large to handle easily. If anyone has had experience doing this kind of download with Blogspot, please contact me and give me some special clues. Thanks.

Sarah Swett continues to share her knowledge and experience in a joyful and enthusiastic manner. This evening we reviewed the continuous warp that produces a four selvege piece. We talked about some of the differences between the way Michael Rhode, Susan Maffei and Sarah approach this technique. Lots of subtle little variations on the same theme all harking back to the Pre-Colombian textiles of Peru. It's a fascinating subject for those involved in the world of tapestry and those interested in the historical research addressing it. Several years ago Susan had given us a good exercise in carrying out such a warp and we wove on it very happily. But by now we were all ready for and happy to receive a review session. Thanks, Sarah.

Tomorrow we are leaving in the morning for a trip down the coast about an hour and a half. We will go to the little village of Perula and take a boat over to an island we've been to before. There is no one on the island but there is a palapa there for shelter from sun and breeze. The beach at the island is nicely protected because it faces toward the Perula shoreline. Should be a nice outing and I probably will come home and just crash without attempting to do the blog for the day. We'll see. Hope you are all well. Thanks so much for your email messages and constant words of encouragement. I love you all.

Sunday, January 29, 2011 — Aztec dancers next door

Next door to Casa Tejedora is the newly opening Museum of Ketzalkoat. Dr. Ayotl, painter, sculptor, spiritual seeker and Director of Cultural Affairs for El Tuito invited everyone in the area to three days of opening celebrations. His vision for the museum is to share his knowledge of his ancestors (Mayan and Aztec) with others through his artwork literature and workshops. The three day events started with a blessing of the Museum by the local Priest. That still arouses some question marks in my curious mind. The second day featured an inauguration by local municipal dignitaries. We waited until the third day for the "Purification and Opening to the Universe." We were invited to bring an offering of food or drink to share and also asked to wear white. We didn't have white.

Aztec dancers performed and art work was exhibited and for sale. The dancers were accompanied by the same drummer I had seen while in Puerto Vallarta at the playa. He and the dancers all wore headdresses made of turkey feathers, some natural and some brilliantly dyed red and blue. I was so motivated that I finally figured out how to activate the movie function on my camera. So I believe I have some striking records of this affair. They danced a very long time with energy beyond belief. It appeared to consist of a mostly family unit. The oldest woman we considered the grandmother. A woman, possibly in her sixties, beautiful and shapely seemed to be the leader. The young middle aged daughter was adorned with blue dyed headdress and a fair amount of facial, arm and leg skin painting or tattooing. (I couldn't tell which.) Each of these women appeared to be in charge of certain ritual aspects of this amazing performance.

The dancers performed in an oval to round space and the viewers all sat in a wide arc facing the southern wall of the building. That outer wall features a fountain and relief sculpture of one of the many gods being honored in this environment. The goddess of water is sitting in the pond at the bottom and water comes into her head and then overflows into the pond. Every so often the younger woman refreshed the small receptacle that held a fire and was placed on a cloth in the middle of the dancing area. One teenage woman looked to be a granddaughter. There were two boys still learning their dances and serving as a great source of entertainment. They were right on during some of the more routine steps and then when things progressed to more intricate moves they were all eyes, trying to improve their performances....more to come in a little while.

Friday, January 28, 2011 — Paying up!

Here we go again. We drove six miles out of town to the Hacienda Divisidero for a late lunch. Lamb roasted in an outdoor oven is one of their specialities. There were only three portions available and I had one of them. I've had lamb there various other times but this was absolutely the best I've had. This restaurant is open air with a roof over it. A lovely ambiance. A meal usually starts out with at least five exotic types of margaritas flavored with local berries, mango and other goodies. It made for a colorful table. I had a Pacifico to honor Skip because that was his favorite drink down here and also at the Purple Rose outside of Fort Bragg. We used to meet the Bartleys every Wednesday at the Purple Rose.

Returning to the meal at the Hacienda Divisidero — a wide spectrum of beef, lamb, fish and shrimp were chosen by our crew. I've seldom seen happier people emerge from an eating spot.

There are two military macgaws that have been living uncaged at the Divisidero for the last couple of years. Last year Roger Foote had some great conversations with them and even managed to get one to perch on his arm. They greeted us and went about their grooming as we first arrived. But when we were leaving, one was on their home perch and the other was talking to him from a nearby tree. I tried every which way to capture a picture of it up in the branches but there were always too many leaves in the way. While I was moving around and making my futile attempts, he began shouting out, "Hola." Over and over again with different acctents, out it came as clear as a bell. Funny bird.

We passed many of the handsome Brahma type cattle that are the favorite around here and worried all the way home about one we passed that was lying by the side of the road. His head was up, but he was definitely wounded and injured. Things like that can haunt you when there is no way to find out the end of the story. Let's hope he is a hearty one.

Slowly, all returned to the loom work and have been having a relaxed time of it after such a perfect outing. That is until just now when Jean Pierre discovered one of those "to die for" sunsets in the western sky. Everyone congregated in the master bedroom to get a crack at it with their cameras. Not sure I did too well. I really need to get a clearer handle on those symbols on my Canon to catch such special shots.

It feels like Skip is all around us here today. He loved this place and thoroughly enjoyed the trips out to the Hacienda. Well, I tipped a Pacifico to him. I hope Patti is right about him being in such a good place. I choose to believe that she has the true story.

Thursday, January 27, 2011 — Diverse progress

The studio is bubbling with energy and activity. Many interesting design challenges being discussed every few minutes. Sometimes hard to just focus on your own situation when there are so many fascinating problems being mulled over. Sarah is so positive and energetic. She shows many layers of thinking and it's fun to hear the onion being peeled every so often. The swing back and forth between philosophical and down to earth practical considerations is wonderful and stimulating. Obviously, all are showing signs of being very happy that they made the decision to be here for this session. ....... more to come .........We're back from a fantastic lunch on the porch. Three kinds of veggie salads, smoked fish, corn tostadas, etc., etc.

Too complex and delicious to describe further. Complemented by Yael's marvelous dehydrated calabasa and nuts wafers, toffee from Sally and pralines from Kissiah.

Good conversation followed, including a bit more of Sarah's history during her early Idaho days caretaking an isolated ranch fifty miles from the nearest road.

Designing and weaving are definitely progressing. Everyone at least has a cartoon sewn to their warp and many have done some serious weaving. Fun to see it all adding up.

After a fantastic chicken dinner with mole made by Yadin, rice and green salad from the garden, Sarah did her personal story presentation. What a varied and rich life she has led. And what a journey she has had with her artwork. We watched an html series of about 50 weavings, cartoons, drawings paintings and needle point. A vast body of work. Sarah is extremely generous in sharing her personal history with all its nooks and crannies. She has made some extraordinary choices in her life and all of them have led her to where she is now. She is insightful, curious, energetic, funny, contemplative and enthusiastically learning more each day. Her delivery is lyrical and in some ways resembles Jean Pierre in her thought processes. It's a privilege getting to know her better.

Abrazos to all.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011 — Good first day in the studio

Jean Pierre and Yael began the morning session with a review of the few rules and regs pertinent to our living, working and eating situation. Then the subject of tapestry and what we are here for was poetically discussed by Jean Pierre before he turned the group over to Sarah Swett.

After his philosophically inclined discussion, JP did a great job of previewing the various plans for the next eight days which include a Friday visit to a favorite Hacienda luncheon about six miles out of town. Always fun to go out there because you feel like you are out in the wilds and then you come upon this beautiful old ranch and hacienda with various old cottages nearby. There is also a formidable raicilla operation just down the hill. Lots to look at along with a bit of tasting. We also have plans to go to a beach one day, a visit to the opening and blessing of a cultural museum that is located just next door to Casa Tejedora and on the final day we'll do the grand opening in Puerto Vallarta of some of our tapestries at the Peter Gray Museum at the university. Some time during this schedule we'll manage to do some designing and hopefully some productive weaving.

Sarah did a bang-up job of getting us started with our subject of story telling at the loom. It promises to be a challenging and creative week. Sarah has a great sense of humor and a joyous way of describing what it is she would like us to take on in this session titled "The Luminous Ordinary." We discussed ways of finding our primary focus entity for a series of very small tapestry statements with some form of story inferred. Should be fun and interesting. We then progressed to dressing our looms with approximately four inch wide warps on which to weave these wondrous works.

Time will tell, but I have a hunch from looking around the room that there will be a broad field of approaches taken. Should be fun. Lots of designing in store for the next few days. Then a flurry of weaving to achieve a finished product. I'll keep you posted.

Dinner on the porch tonight featured a marinated fish with greens, quinoa, green papaya salad, steamed vegetables and finished with a yummy dessert of flan pudding laced with nuts and kahlua. JP offered raicilla to all. Yes, times are kind of tough at the moment.

Tuesday January 25, 2011 — The gang's all here

Just after 3:00 they all began arriving. Pedrito brought the first group. Chaio and Conchita made cheese and chicken tamales and black beans and a delicious pineapple-papaya tart. The garden provided a special blend of greens with a host of different flavors.

We assembled for dinner about 6:00 after Sarah and Nancy arrived with JP. Lovely to see all these old friends from east coast, Idaho, Canada, Colorado and points between. Sarah Swett will be teaching this session so I'll describe what she has in store for us tomorrow. Sarah and one other participant are going to spend their nights at a borrowed house a few blocks away. This is the house Skip was planning to stay in while he explored El Tuito in more detail during our weaving time. Sounds like a place he would have loved as a crash pad. I'm sure I'll get to see it later in the week.

We also have one woman from Brazil in the group. It took her almost three days to get here from southern Brazil. She teaches tapestry weaving at a university there and brought her own very clever little wooden loom on which she'll place a continuous warp using cotton. She says they also use cotton as weft because they don't have any wool. That will certainly be interesting to see because cotton doesn't have the stretch that wool has. I'm sure she has worked it down to a fine science. It's going to add an interesting dimension to this year's retreat. Learning new things, gathering new ideas and having a few surprises is just the ticket.

It's still unusually cool here, so everyone is talking socks, heavier pants, sweaters and the like. In my mad rush to get out of town I left my new black sweater that was going to dress up for openings and down for walking about town. By the same token, I doubled up on bamboo longs sleeve tops which I'm thinking I could wear together if need be. So funny to even be thinking about things like this but that's the way it is this year. Good not having feet or ankles swell. I'm not adding salt to anything for a change and it seems, along with mother nature and the weather to be making a difference. To tell the truth, I really hadn't given any thought to how much colder Mexico City will be. Good thing I always bring socks which I never wear. Happily, there's always a first time for everything. Abrazos amigos.

, January 24, 2011 — The day before we start

We're in count down mode now. Things are happening all over the garden and in little nooks and crannies of the house and studio. Conchita is here attending to things both indoors and out. She does everything with such grace and good nature — a lovely woman. Yael made one of those very tasty fruit, cereal and rice combos for breakfast. It cooks slowly all night in the crock pot. I love making that dish at home but haven't done it for some time now. Have to get back into the swing of things when I return.

Tomorrow the rest of the retreat participants arrive from all directions. Some are already spending time at various places along the coast, and some will be flying in from Canada and diverse locations in the states. Always a fun reunion when they arrive at Casa Tejedora. Always much catching up to do.

More to come.......................................wifi went off for the night. .........................................................

We had a late lunch on the porch. Fish and rice plus a very interesting dish that Yael made using the same little Japanese spaghetti maker, called, Household Helper, " that we both enjoy using for fresh vegetables like beets, dikon, carrots and the like. The dish is a green papaya salad. She processed a green papaya and one carrot with the "helper" and set them to soak with lime juice, garlic and pepper for several hours just as if she were making ceviche. At the end of the two hours she added a little honey. She says it only gets better with time. I thought it was delicious right from the start and it will surely be on my list when I return home.

The evening finished with a little tennis watching (Li was fantastic against her German opponent) on CNN. After that, the news, which I hadn't seen for some days. For sure, there were a few shockers, but I'm glad I take a rest from all that when I'm down here. I haven't even listened to Amy G. once. Pretty good for me, eh? A very encouraging report on rooftop veggie gardening in Mexico City. Then Piers Morgan interviewing the ex-mayor of New York, soon to become presidential candidate. I'm not a huge fan of Mr. J., to put it mildly, but once in a while he hits a mark. Morgan is definitely my kind of interviewer. I like his candor, his intelligence and his sparkling eyes.

JP and Yael retired before Morgan finished. And so began my usual nightly drill of turning out the lights and closing up the kitchen. I then douse the porch light, and with my trusty little blue flashlight, I go down and then up a few steps to the beloved cell. Ready for bed and back to those not so nice Brothers Karamazov who hide out in my Kindle until night.

Sunday, January 23, 2011 — A relaxing Sunday

I woke up early around 5:30, and then, eventually went back to sleep and slept until 9:00. A good beginning for a very relaxing day. We started with some nice green tea. Then, with fabulous huevos rancheros made by Yael, we sat out on the porch feasting on this dish along witih black beans, coffee with Mexican chocolate in it and tortillas that JP bought from the tortilla maker five minutes earlier.

We've now discovered that the wifi works with my laptop in the cell right behind an open window looking out on a tranquil, much loved garden. Now JP is fiddling with the modem and router to see if he can get wifi upstairs in the tower. The marvels of this age. JP is as good a Ludite as I know, but even he eventually succumbs to some of these now day riches. It's pretty hard not to appreciate what I'm able to be doing right now, writing to you with this gorgeous garden in view.

Because this is Sunday, I believe there is a 1:30 appointment to visit with Gabriellita via Skype. Only a granddaughter such as she could have brought these two dear friends to such a point of modernity. Of course, a little help from JG and Yadin doesn't hurt.

Saturday, January 22,2011 — Good bye Puerto Vallarta

Today I rose at 6:30 and ate breakfast at 7:30. That's a first for me during this trip. Those of you who know me well know that I tend to be a night owl.

Today's picture shows the view from the terrace at the Puerto Vallarta Botanical Gardens, located on the river road leading to El Tuito.

After Jean Pierre picked me up from Los Arcos we went directly to the Peter Gray museum where Bill McGrail has mounted a truly fine exhibition of tapestries. Some are older Larochette pieces, some new by Jean Pierre and about fifty small format pieces by the weavers of the Maiz series that we've been working on for several years now. There are also a few older pieces in small format such as my "Monday Morning in Yelapa" and my much earlier "'Water Melon." Elaine Duncan and Christine Rivers as well as Gabriel Canales also contibuted pieces to this part of the show. I have to say that I feel it is one of the most beautiful and varied tapestry groupings I've seen in recent years. Gabriel Canales did two magnificent pieces using multiple sections or elements. One features small weavings attached to a wire form in the shape of a cross. This piece hangs about six inches away from the wall. I can't wait to see the shadows it will cast when the lighting is adjusted. His other major piece is a continuation of his paint brush series. I believe there are 32 brushes in all. About 12 of those brushes are covered with small tapestries in the center, and they are surrounded by a framing of unwoven brushes around the entire periphery, forming a slightly vertically oriented whole. Each woven brush is a precious jewel and the unwoven ones provide a great foil to highlight the center, woven pieces. Hats off to you Gabriel.

The Larochette "Water" series is also well represented in this showing. Many who already care greatly for this series are in for some incredible surprises. Two of the pieces are woven twice and in one case, combined vertically and in the other, horizontally as mirror images. Both are smashing successes and I suspect they will have a flurry of requests for these double versions.

I brought a little, very light weight tripod down with me so that I would have a chance to better photograph some of the Maiz pieces that I don't feel I have good examples of. Sadly, after figuring out the workings of this nice little tripod, it turned out to be too short to function for this job because the tapestries are hung fairly high and the tripod is a bit shorter than I had anticipated. Oh, the best of intentions. So I took a chance and reshot the whole group hand held. Time will tell.

We stopped for a late lunch at one of the vegetarian restaurants in Vallarta and did several more errands before heading south out of town toward El Tuito. I am very fond of that trip. I remember the first time we did it with Jean Pierre. Elaine Stevens was determined to locate Mismaloya. She had been requested to purchase some postcards for a friend or relative. Of course we didn't find the cards right away but some other time during the workshop the task was accomplished. The card search plus all the lore about John Huston and the Burtons filming at that location has definitely helped etch this location in my mind. I never tire of turning inland at Boca de Tomatlan and heading up along the river toward El Tuito. Skip used to love that ride and there was no lack of geological features for him to comment on. In more recent years, we enjoyed watching the new botanical gardens mature over a very short period. The garden's view of the river below is breathtaking.

Arriving at Casa Tejedora in the center of El Tuito, we were greeted by Yael who had bussed up from Vallarta after her shopping trip for supplies. We had a wonderful miso soup followed by a cup of the tea that Tim had sent to JP. I love the earthy aroma of this tea and finished my cup over in my favorite quarters ...."the cell" in the back yard. Life doesn't get much better. I'm so happy to be in this magical place once again.

Friday, January 21, 2011 — No doubt why I'm here

If ever there was any doubt whether or not I should come here this year, it is gone with the wind. Just talked with JP and he has heard that it is freezing cold on the Mendocino coast. It is just a little cooler here than I remember ever, but it is oh, so pleasant. I swam this morning with ladies from Canada and Michigan. Needless to say, we were universally celebrating the warm air and water.

After I swam, I walked up to what had been my favorite local super market. A place called Riso which boasted one of those upstairs levels that held every old fashioned kitchen wonder you'd ever wish for, super art supplies, sewing notions and all kinds of appliances and things I can't even remember. As I walked into the store today I immediately became disoriented. I kept looking in the right place for the stairway and finally came to the realization that all possibilities had been thoroughly blocked. Seriously blocked. Permanently blocked. I was in shock. I finally asked around, and it seems that this big change took place sometime in the last six months. Not only are the precious items from above nowhere to be found, but the whole layout is vastly opened up and bare looking. Ah, progress. Looks suspiciously like new ownership. I found a few substitutes for the paper I was seeking and walked out resigned to one more Vallarta change that I wish had not taken place.

But then.......... I had a late lunch in the Los Arcos dining room. "Welcome Miss Jackie," has now become music to my ears. I asked a lot of questions about the soups offered. One was labeled "fish soup" and I was told, after a long consultation with the chef, that it was made with white wine and contained small carrots as well as fish broth. So then I asked about the "seafood soup" and was told that it was heartier. That was an understatement. I ordered it and requested a side order of pico de gallo to go with it so I'd be assured of some vegetable. I thought of our friend Tim when it arrived because he had told us that he was planning on a very special cciopino (sp) last Tuesday in San Francisco. Well, nothing could have been more beautiful than what arrived before me along with an apology for the time it had taken. At least three waiters questioned me seriously about whether it was to my liking. It featured crab, white fish, a host of things like octopus and who knows what in a lovely tomato base with green veggies of some sort. I ate a bit and then bravely added the pico de gallo, stirred it and slowly savored every last bite. They were still coming to me and asking how I liked it and one waiter seemed to be taking credit for putting in a special word with the chef on my behalf.

After finishing, I sat there drinking and reading. One of my boys put The Brothers Karamazov on the kindle recently and I have finally fallen prey to it. Truly engaging if you can just get a handle on the list of players. Usually, when I read one of these Russian wonders I make a list as I'm going along, but I haven't started doing that yet. I may regret not doing so.

Of course there were also all the engaging distractions. The baby and his mother sitting as part of a pair of couples. Young mama had eyes only for that baby. She cooed, tickled, rocked and generally put her all into entertaining him. Then the musicians who frequent the malecon stopped by and began playing and singing right by this foursome. They sang their hearts out and the other woman finally paid them off and they moved on. But only halfway down the length of the restaurant. Down in the smoking section was a table with about ten prosperous looking young women and one man. I noticed them several times as they became more festive. I don't know what they were drinking but it just kept getting better. They began singing each song along with the outside musicians. Then some of the table members were standing and swaying and pointing and acting the conductor. It built up to a startling crescendo. I almost cried on the spot, it was so spontaneous and gleeful. And it just kept on going. Better and better. I couldn't really understand the words but this bunch knew every syllable and were finally shouting the words to beat the band. I think they went on for half an hour before I left and they were still at it when I went out on the balcony of my room. I couldn't help thinking that this was something I would never see happening where I live. I love where I live, but I love this too. With a passion.

The phone rang just as I entered the room and it was JP who responded to my "Bueno." He said he and Yael had been talking about me at lunch and wondering if I was having a good time at Los Arcos. He got his answer and then some. A description of the whole last two hours just poured out of me and I could hardly slow down. From the man who helped me cross the wildly busy street by the supermercado to the drummers on the beach to the fabulous seafood soup to the wild and crazy table full of singers and conductors. He asked and he got an earful. Tomorrow they pick me up and we'll go to photograph the tapestry show and then do the lovely drive up to El Tuito to begin the next phase of this liberating Mexican voyage.

I thought I was finished with this edition, but my balcony door is open and the sound of young girls singing to some hip music in the pool has me entranced. As I walked out to see what was happening, I was just in time to see a ring of girls holding one long, slender teenager up above the water, flying angel style, and cheering to beat the band. It has the feel of some TV thing and I'm back in my room but every few minutes they break out into lovely harmonies and spoken verses and then sometimes screams of applause. Obviously a lot of direction is taking place. It's sounding more and more like a" heart felt commercial." Have to go out again to check it out. Took about twelve quick pictures when my batteries ran out. Quick trip down to the lobby. Back via the pool scene. I asked a few questions and was told that it is a group class learning to express themselves freely. OK. Freely, with a lot of direction and encouragement from the sidelines, especially from the very handsome brown eyed man I have been thinking of as the director. He really gets them going. Well, it's just one "feliz" moment after another and you never know what's coming next. Much to my liking.

Sorry, I can't stop now. It's 10:00 now and I've just finished a nice endive and goat cheese salad and set up my laptop to copy what I wrote this afternoon into the blog while I'm on wifi. I can hardly stand it, it's so wild and wonderful. They've been playing some mambos and a huge crowd is in a circle on the dance floor yelling and screaming as someone performs in the center and the circle dances one way and then the other. I've never seen people have so much fun. Now they're screaming in unison for some special selection. But,,,the band and the beauties are going by the book and taking their break. Probably everybody needs a little break after that gorgeous mayhem. Ok, end of this report as the table with the most crazies right by me is laughing their heads off and stamping their feet over something. Obviously, this could go on forever, but I hope you liked a little taste of what I'm enjoying beyond words.

Thursday, January 20, 2011 — Is it all about eating?

Every time I sit down to write an entry in this blog, I've either just finished eating or I'm at least sitting in the dining room at Playa Los Arcos Hotel. No wifi in the rooms and the lobby has only coffee table hight surfaces. Doesn't work for me to reach down to type. Fortunately, I'm not the only one here with a laptop and they seem quite amenable to my using mine anywhere any time.

I noticed that many of the pictures of Skip I've pulled from my files have also to do with eating events. When our children were in preschool I started playing bridge with a group of women with children about the same age. We've all gone our ways but we still see each other at least once a year for lunch in Healdsberg. And I treasure their friendship that has lasted over all these years. Stuart, pictured here, served on the same ship in the Navy with Skip. Many years gone by.

Time is actually going rather quickly here I must say. I join Jean Pierre and Yael Saturday and I hope to photograph our show at the Peter Gray Museum at the University that morning. Wish me luck. These small format tapestries are not the easiest to get decent photos of. I'll just do the best that I can.

I'm sitting here typing with a constant smile on my face listening to and watching the "guest" drummer on the stage. The main man is playing Besa me mucho on the multi-purpose Yamaha, the beauties are doing their dancing thing and the guest, who can't be more than nine years old at the most, is cranking out his rythm and looking like a real pro. He's good but still has only so many tricks and it is fun to hear him make the most of what he has. He's really cute and I have a hunch he is the son of one of the beauties. In fact, someone in the bar audience side has just asked a question about him. I heard her say he is eleven, but he is really short. So I was not quite right, but close. Doesn't pay to look away for long. He's now setting up some kind of off and on colored light at his drum set. Think he's lost me. They've moved on to a song they do each night. A very sentimental number that sounds like cooka cooka coo. With violins and full effects. Now suddenly the Yamaha is switched to organ. I think I better stop this description if I haven't lost you already, but the smile is still on my face.

While we're on the subject of drums, at about three o'clock or before each afternoon, the sound of drums on the beach becomes stronger and stronger. Today I was sitting in the dining room at about that time answering an urgent request from Rodrick Owen for a karakumidai picture and looked out onto the malecon to see three men in fantastic headdresses. I have to interrupt this for a moment. A request from a big table full of patrons for Davy, Davy, Davy has just resulted in "Davy" heading for center front stage and he is now dancing with the beauties and singing a song many in the audience seem to know and now one of the waiters at the big table is dancing to the tune. The little guy is quite a performer. The whole audience is clapping in unison. They won't let him stop. It's turning into a medley. Well, I can't really do it justice....but I can't stop. He just turned around and banged on his drums between verses. Whew! I'm sitting behind him and he is facing the bar audience. Must be fun to see his face. Now he's sitting and doing a special drum thing. OK. Enough.

Back to the men with the headdresses on the malecon. They were drummers, definitely from someplace a bit more exotic than this. Must be a special indian tribe. They were drumming very close to the malecon, but each day I have heard drummers closer to the water so I haven't actually seen them well from here. There are times when the drumming doesn't stop until late into the night. It seems so natural and almost essential. It reminds me of how excited I became the first time I read Mickey Hart's "Drumming At the Edge of Magic." There is something so relevant about the beat of a drum. It speaks to the heart and the soul. The men with the head garb were dressed sparsely and seemed to have a lot of tattoos. Very lean and exotic. The head pieces were made of huge long turkey feathers and the waiter said there were parts from deer. I couldn't quite figure that out but he seemed to know. There's something good about not always knowing all the answers.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011 — Happy Birthday to Rosa

I have finished my "Italian" dinner with raviolis done by the chef to my prescription...well, sort of. Definitely al dente. The wine helped tremendously. Good salad and a sliver of chocolate cake with my tea.

The latin beauties are on again with a break for the ethnic and traditional dancers. Quite a combo if I can still remember it. First some Spanish dances, then Colombian (in short sequin dresses and quite sexy). I think we then switched to Hawaiian followed by Tahitian and finished up with another stomping Spanish or close. That was topped off with another rope stunt using two short ropes that cracked and clicked on the dance floor.

Immediately after, one of the beauties slung two lengths of wine red fabric over an overhead support hanging from above. She had shed some of her sequins and silver fringes and was down to black tights with sparkles above. My first thought was that I was about to witness my first "pole" dance up close. But actually, she cleverly climbed up the two pillars of cloth and reached the top before letting go and hanging there by her feet of something. She moved on to show quite a repertoire of moves and hangings. Actually quite graceful.

So much to tell. I'll finish the dinner part as soon as I tell you about the art walk and search for a cheap cell phone that I can use to call California and within Mexico. I zeroed out in that department — one store had no such thing, only for Mexico, and the other one had its system down and the lady who knew about the phone I'm looking for was off for the day. I may try again. After that failed effort, I moved on and walked to Calle Corona where our friend Bill McGrail had a large painting in a new gallery called "The Loft." I loved the painting, which is a dramatic departure from his work that I'm more familiar with. It reminded me somehow of Susan Mafai's tapestries looking down on the New York Public Library or Post Office. Like a parade, only Bill's is looking down on athletes on a field and track, seen through trees with spring blossoms everywhere. Complete with athletic flood lights. Quite a festive scene and very well composed. I was especially amazed because I'm used to his deep forests of banana trees and other green features. Change is always fun. Very nice, Bill. It should find a great, spacious home.

I walked home along the shore and sat for a while with a couple from Nebraska who were due to be back at their cruise ship in two hours. They were on a thirty day cruise and said that the ship they were on carries 3500 people. Whew! Also said that many of the ships that usually come to Mexico are being rerouted to Europe because of fears of liability. Their ship had been due to dock at Acapulco, but had been changed to Puerto Vallarta for safety reasons. Sad but understandable. If that really happens, it will be a serious blow to Mexican tourism.

On my way back to the hotel via the malecon, I sat on the walking bridge and watched and listened to the amazing parade of people walking by. Like a tower of Babel. I stopped at the flea market and bought a sarong and sat with some people who had a beautiful little long haired dog on a leash. She had incredible brown to tan graded coloring almost like a Siamese cat. They said she was half Lasa and half some other small, exotic breed. She truly reminded me of our Tia Maria, who was supposed to have been half Lasa and half Dandy Dinmont. This little one was said to be a great lap dog as well as a perfect athlete. Sounds like Tia, eh?

Back to the dinner scene. While the beauties are singing, the dance floor fills and there is one woman who regularly appears on the floor alone and puts on quite a show. But just a few minutes ago she had snagged another woman to join her. The usual loner was trying to instruct the partner in the art of loosening up. It makes me chuckle. She tried all sorts of moves, with feet, shoulders, hips, entire body..... but partner, looking very straight laced, was having none of it. So funny to watch things like this from a distance and wonder what words were accompanying all this little psychological tug of war.

Every year I've been coming here pretty close to the same time. Every year a very prosperous family convenes at a long table and celebrates the birthday of a woman who has had multiple sclerosis for some years. It's very touching to see the regard in which she is held. I went up to my room to fetch my computer, leaving a fresh cup of tea and the last of my wine to be guarded by the good waiters who treat me so well. As I returned a few minutes later, I leaned in to speaking distance to the woman in the wheel chair and wished her a happy birthday and told her that I have seen her celebrating for some years. A few minutes later, a lovely woman who turned out to be a good friend of hers and who owns the restaurant, Maximillian, which is adjacent to the hotel, brought me a small piece of cake and said that "Rosa" wanted me to have a piece. Well, of course I shouldn't have eaten it, but of course, I had to. Poor me. It was the tastiest birthday cake I've ever eaten. Drenched in some delicious form of alcohol. Poor me.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011 — It's nice to be remembered

I have just made the decision to remain at Playa Los Arcos for two more nights because of a change in the schedule for hanging our exhibit at the University museum. Otherwise I would have to have left here today. I quickly opted for two more days of swimming and exercising in this great pool. See today's pic. It's such fun to sit on my balcony and look down at the kids playing ball and outsmarting their watchful parents in all sorts of mischievous ways. It's still so heart warming to me how affectionate the Mexican families are with their children. Many more fathers walking on the malecon carrying infants in carriers and sarongs on their chests. Very touching. Many fathers in charge of their little ones in and around the pool also. In the restaurant beside the pool, there are always young ones from eight to 12 carrying their little siblings or holding their hands as they explore the territory.

Yesterday I walked along the malecon to the steps in the middle of the bridge that used to be the entrance to the Molina de Agua garden hotel where we once loved to stay. Just a few years ago an American (from Modesto, I heard), with the help of Arab money, bulldozed the entire, historical operation: banyon trees, beautifully tiled pools, outdoor restaurants and dance floors, cabanas and other sleeping arrangements. It broke my heart. I sat looking at the monumental replacement from the bridge. Neat as a pin. Huge beyond belief. Still hard to believe.

I moved on to the stairs from the walking bridge and headed east between the two rivers. The first thing you come to is "Oscars," a restaurant that looks out on the river. As I contemplated a cup of tea, the maitre de approached me and convinced me it was time for a break. I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was already 3:00, so I decided to order a salad. I hadn't been seated for more than four minutes before the guitarist all the way across the room began to play "San Francisco." Then he interrupted his song with a dedication to the woman sitting over by the river and waved to me. I'm quite sure I hadn't been there for over two years. Perhaps ten minutes later he started playing "House of the Rising Sun." That really touched me because I remembered having boasted some years ago during a conversation about the "guitarist's life," that my son, Mike, had played that on Danish radio at age 14. Then the waiter sidled over to me and whispered that he thought "Martin" was playing that song for me also. By that time my heart was so warmed I thanked the gods for sending me in that direction.

I continued my walk up the river and soon began an uncharacteristic shopping exercise. I'll tell you about it when I return to the keyboard after a while. I'm going for a swim. Chao.

I'm back. About that walk...... Some of you know how unusual it is for me to get into a shopping mode. But I had it in my mind to try replacing my fabric shoulder bag I had bought in Tenacatita. Its zipper had failed and I hadn't repaired it in time for the trip. I began searching each booth and boutique as I moved east on the river trail. Looking for something a little larger than most of the bags I was seeing. But, no writing on it, please. Then I began finding the right type and the search changed to finding the right fabric, right colors, not too many flowers, etc. Found several and began "wondering" about the price. Offers were made and I promised I was walking as far as the next bridge but would return. More offers. Got to the bridge and turned left to explore a favorite big market just on the other side of the river. Bought a bathing suit there and returned to the bag search. Walked down to where I remembered the best price for an OK choice. It was difficult to choose between green tones or purple. Each time I picked up the green one, the young merchant kept saying, "this is your color." And of course I was so impressed at his insight that I bought it. Shopping done.

I decided to walk across the street and follow the river path a little further. I came upon some shops I hadn't seen before and a bistro that advertised jazz every night and then more park and garden. Then I began hearing student violins playing. I walked up to a small, round plaza and a round building out of which several young girls walked with their familiar violin cases. I dared to go close and peek into the room. it was filled with a congregation of young players. Almost as soon as I stepped inside they began playing in unison. A recognizable spanish tune. At about middle school—freshman level, but beautiful to my ears. I walked out almost in tears it was such a lovely and encouraging scene.

Had a great walk back and indulged in a late dinner, complete with more ethnic entertainment. Three more states or areas represented, Tabasco being the last. I could get used to being so entertained each evening. Right now, as I said, I'm sitting in the bar area of this palapa and watching the stage from the other side from my usual. Getting a full on view of two twin latin beauties doing their vocal best. Ah, the beauties have left the stage for another break and a man is walking from table to table doing magic tricks with a heavy French accent. Don't know if it's an act or just a patron having fun, but everyone is enjoying his antics.

Mike, thanks for checking in. Tried to respond but somehow the browser couldn't quite find its way to you so I gave up. Hope you're all over those European bugs and that the water system is looking up. Much love to all.

January 16, 2011 — Breakfast excitement

January 16, 2011 — Most exciting breakfast

Oh, I was so smart to come here! It was tough a few times for a few minutes, but this place happies me up like you wouldn't believe. I walked down for a late breakfast this morning to a very full room. Lots of families with Mexicans outnumbering Americans. I was offered a secluded table in the corner but near the malecon. I was eagerly beginning to eat a bowl of yogurt and fruit sprinkled with granola. All of a sudden everyone in that part of the room lunged forward toward the open arches that look out on the malacon, the beach and the blue waters of the Bay of Banderas. It could only mean one thing. Whales! In all the years we've been coming here, this is the first time I've seen whales frolicking in this bay in such numbers. Huge whales, cruising on the surface and breeching like I've only seen in movies.

I had cried for a bit during my shower out of sadness. But I found myself weeping tears of joy over this remarkable event. I had begun feeling glad to be there when I first sat down near the northern wall by a little shrine with a ceramic bird located on the top of an arch in the rock work. Two very black starlings perched by the fake bird, speaking loudly to each other and then another one flew swiftly overhead, from one end of the room to the other. Then came the whales. Such a moment for humans and other animals existing together in this festive, good natured congregation. Totally exhilarating.

One of the waiters insisted on moving me and my food to a table with a better view. I think of this restaurant as the house with a thousand waiters. They are so watchful for your every need and bring you things like green tea and cinnamon and honey, wearing giant smiles and sparkling eyes. The room was buzzing with chatter between staff and guests alike. Everyone oohing and ahing and pointing and explaining the locations out to each other like human GPS locaters. The room was like one big family, feasting with satisfaction and camaraderie.

Skip would have loved this scene. Maybe he was seeing it better than I. Seeing the evening's entertainment last night reminded me of the times we watched the traditional dancers there in years past, dressed to the nines in costumes from the north, from Chiapas, from Veracruz and lastly and most proudly, from Jalisco. The women wear beautiful full skirts with ruffles and flounces made of lovely fabrics and laces. that are special to the area. The men begin the evening in all white with accent colors at the neck and around their waists. They finish with tight black pants sporting some fancy couched white designs running down the outer leg. I've seen their acts multiple times and it always makes me smile. Always, that is, except for when two men come out with live cocks and do a little pretend fight. It's not heavy weight stuff, but some feathers fly and it still puts a bit of a damper on things for a few minutes. Then comes the man who does an amazing act with a twirling rope. It's is so "out there" in terms of skill that I can hardly describe it. He turns that rope into a live lariat, snaking, flying, crawling and swirling. Toward the end he is jumping through his rope creations with rapid fire movement and without flaw. It all reminds me of seeing a mini Cerc de Soleil. ( Excuse my questionable spelling)

While sitting out on the balcony watching kids playing ball in the pool and generally enjoying the scene, I heaved a sigh of relief. I had been keeping my eye out for the two iguanas that have been here as long as I can remember. They live all over the lower roofs, visible from our room and sometimes travel to the terraces belonging to the suites across the courtyard. I had been concerned about them and meant, but forgot to ask about them. I saw them moving across the lower red tile roof just a few minutes ago. So comforting to see all the players still doing their part.

I'm off for a little walk along the malecon and will take a turn for a while along the shore so I can dip my feet in the waters of this lovely bay. The sights will be pretty much as they are every day but after a few minutes the nuances always begin to show their face. I never tire of that.

Saturday, January 15, 2011 — A duck can make you laugh

I really have to start writing for a few days because I'm just bursting with those little momentary thoughts that pop into your head and then disappear almost as fast. I just returned from a delightful evening meal here at Playa Los Arcos where I am staying in Puerto Vallarta. I sat in the no smoking area at a reserved table right next to the dance floor/stage. They seem to know my story and are treating me oh so kindly. I had used the hotel's wifi this afternoon to do a group email to my family to let them know I arrived safely and was beginning to adjust to the solo situation. I was told that the wifi only works in the public areas such as the lobby and restaurants. Of course, I had to try after dinner to do the Steve "stretch" with the system. I first tried with the door closed to my room's balcony. That didn't work. Then I tried all kinds of positions outside, short of hanging over the railing, but I guess I just don't have Steve's touch. So here I am, using a simple text edit file and hoping that it won't give me too much grief when I try to copy it into the blogspot ap tomorrow morning when I'll obey the rules and go to the lobby with whatever I write tonight. If you get this, you'll know that at least that worked. (Beautifully!)

Before I could leave Fort Bragg I had to do a million last minute things around town such as check in with the contractor's office with a new key to the studios at Pacific Textile Arts. Then I spent more than an hour trying to make a payment at the City Hall for the "swapping" of our former water meter for a new kind required by the city which will service the much talked about sprinkler system. When I balked because of the terribly last minute nature of the request, Bryan told me to just ask the finance department and they'd tell me how much it would cost. The finance department and every other department on one side of the aisle came up totally blank. So I returned to the community development side and they tenaciously tracked it all down after about five phone calls and promises on the other end that the paper work was beginning its journey down to the first floor. Finally, something printable was produced and the lady in finance skeptically accepted it. I paid the $331. with my own check and ran. I distributed a few more ESL class offering posters for the college advocacy committee and passed the rest of them on to the Bartleys.

By that time, Sandra was at the house for the transition and I finished throwing things into the car. The dogs walked me to the end of the porch and stood there with their muzzles two inches apart from each other and looking up at me. If you ever wondered about how knowing these canine creatures are — don't. There was simply no question that they had known all morning that this moment was going to come. I kissed them and made a lot of promises and drove away. When I got to the beginning of Madsen Lane, where a neighbor's small poultry enclosure is located, I saw a duck standing at the shared water pipe. He had such a purposeful lean to his posture that it just made me chuckle. A duck can make you laugh.

I'll skip past the lovely dinner I had with family and a friend at Italian Colors in Montclair. Dinner was delicious and gorgeous dessert was forced upon us by the ever hospitable owner. And, best of all, I got to hear Mike and Leah play beautiful music.

I spent the next day doing errands necessary for the trip including a quickie at REI because I forgot my Chacos, the sandal that has been my uniform in Mexico ever since Sally Williamson introduced me to her Colorado made favorite shoe.They have great arch support which I need, so I was shocked to find that there wasn't a Chaco sandal on the wall. That may have been one of those "out of adversity" events because I ended up buying a new Teva sandal with decent support and that adjusts with velcro in three places. And, I've been wearing them ever since. They were fantastic as my feet began to swell from sitting in a window seat on the flight. I loosened all three straps and felt like I might survive the rest of the ride. It's the only shoe I have with me but I think I did get lucky.

The flight was completely full and it was a bigger plane than I'm used to for this trip. Full of golfers and their wives as well as every other make of traveler you could name. Fabulous people watching and wonderful for eavesdropping. I could also look between and over the seats to see a few laptop shows of golf tournaments from the recent past, the World Cup special moments, scuba diving marvels. You name it, they'd been there. Half of them seem to have traveled together before and they talked constantly of where they might join up with each other next. That is, after coming down here and staying at their time shares at the Mayan Palace in Nuevo Vallarta. Got the picture?

This morning I was pleasantly awakened by a phone call from Jean Pierre who told me that friends were going to be demonsrating their ceramic techniques with Luis, who did our pair of dogs and other favorites, at a small community farmers' market just a short distance from here. I was wending my way to where he had thought it was until I reached the junction to the main highway. Who should pull up and be about to turn toward El Tuito, but Greg and Joanie and Luis. We had a tearful reunion and I walked down a hundred step descent to reach the site of the just closing fair. I'll definitely try to hit it on another Saturday if it's possible.

With all sorts of little details unmentioned, I've now finished my first whole day in Mexico this trip without Skip. I'm in one of our favorite rooms with a balcony overlooking the pool. I feel I must learn to deal with this business head on without trying to escape some of the sadder moments. And though I know there wil be difficult times, I am really happy to be here ands this is what Skip would have wanted and expected of me.

Sunday, January 9, 2010 — On my countdown

I have happily made the decision to travel to Mexico but now I find myself just two and a half days from departure. In the past Skip would accompany me for three wonderful weeks prior to the workshop retreats in El Tuito. We would spend several days in Puerto Vallarta, usually staying at Playa Los Arcos, a comfortable ocean front hotel with several inviting pools. From there we would go to Yelapa to stay at Hotel Lagunita on the beach. That was the most relaxing place to spend a week, eating fish tacos, walking across the river and visiting the village, usually after a walk to the hillside waterfall for breakfast. l can't think of a better place to swim, eat, read, sleep, hike up the river, generally do whatever seemed right for the moment. There is always something new to explore, or not. The pool at Lagunita sits above the rocky shore at the end of the beach in such a way that you can look from its rim, down to the breakers and eager swimmers in the surf. The pool is placed in a crevasse and many of the rocks are left in place to swim around or sit on for a moment's rest. It used to boast a carved iguana from which the circulating water spewed. At some point the iguana malfunctioned and seems never to have returned. So now the water comes very honestly from a simple pipe.

There were times when the boat ride back to Puerto Vallarta was more than exciting. Several years ago we witnessed a wind tunnel off in the distance and the boat had to land while the sea rose and fell four to eight feet as people debarked. Very exciting and a little scary.

For some years we moved on after Yelapa to the town of El Tuito where the Larochettes live and work for half the year. We rented a wonderful adobe house in a bird sanctuary for about a week and then Skip headed back to Vallarta to fly home to San Francisco. He had been in Mexico for three weeks and he came happily back to his house and its canine inhabitants. And now I'm realizing all the things he came home to besides his beloved dogs and their hikes to the Noyo river just down the hill.

As I struggle to get all the chores done before I go, I realize my leaving for this yearly trip is very different. Before, I knew Skip was returning shortly and would take care of all the little forgotten items, the maintenance issues for house and vehicles, the writing of the February bills and all the other things I'm now trying to deal with because I won't return for six weeks. I finally decided to send double payments or extra amounts with the January bills so that I wouldn't come home to a pile of penalties and reprimands. How do other people deal with being away when the bills come? I wrote little explanatory notes to the credit card companies, hoping they will follow my instructions. I've been writing ATT notes on the bills for two months asking them to discontinue our phone service at Marina Bay because we all have cell phones and I figured this would be one way to cut expenses. They still continue service and still continue the bills. So we shall see if they accept my earnest pleas for understanding while I'm gone.

This year's workshop/retreats will feature a teaching visit by Sarah Swett. We're all really looking forward to working with her. As soon as the workshops end, eight of us will travel by bus to Mexico City and then to Oaxaca. Should be a great trip as long as I manage to break away from Fort Bragg. Every force for preventing my departure seems to be at work these last few days. You can only be at one meeting at a given time. So wish me luck and hope that I will get myself to simply walk out the door, ready or not. If you're interested, I'll enter the blogosphere several times a week while away and will let you know how it's going south of the border. Check out the view from Jean Pierre and Yael's studio window shown above. I keep telling myself that I'm about to return to that wondrous world of bird calls, tapestry talk, dogs and roosters cheering us on during the night, meals on the front porch and evening conversations. Exploring weaving ways and ideas will be the norm of the day and I will somehow manage to get myself down to that airport.

Sunday, January 2, 2011 — It's a Nova night

I don't watch much television during the week even though Skip is gone and I seek out evening entertainment. I have so much reading to do that evenings are usually spent with books or my Kindle. But Sunday night was always a special TV night for us. We loved the Masterpiece Theater and Mystery shows. And before them, Nova and or Nature.

This Nova special is titled Secrets beneadth the Ice. All about Antarctica. They are drilling deep into the ice to determine the ice depth at many locations. ANDRILL is the name of this international project, devoted to answering questions about how deep, what's there and how will their explorations be able to explain what is happening to Antarctica as a result of global warming. I can't even begin to adequately describe these scenes as scientists from around the world assemble to find out what will happen if the ice melts beyond the current rate. There is much to be learned about the geological past by drilling deep into the ice through the sea and down into the layers of rock and mud that form the sea floor. Each core they extract is a fascinating history log. Trying to understand what happened in the past is becoming an urgent matter. West and East Antarctica are vastly different from each other and present fascinating contrasts. There's ten times as much ice in the east than in the west. Volcanic ash lies over ice in some areas. The fossils found in these drillings are amazing. Glaciologists are having a field day. Check it out. I'm sure it's available as a podcast or a PBS DVD. Skip would have loved it.

The holiday season is coming to an end tonight and I'm ready for it. I'm on my countdown for my yearly trip to Mexico. A few days in Puerto Vallarta followed by a few days with Jean Pierre and Yael in El Tuito getting ready for the yearly tapestry workshops. It was difficult for me to do the trip this year. I think I have made the right decision, but only time will tell. I'm not going to Yelapa after all. I just can't quite face it. Next year I'm sure I'll go there again because I love it so. When the workshops are over, eight of us will board a public bus with Mexico City as our destination. We'll have a showing of our Maiz (corn) tapestries there and then continue on to Oaxaca for another showing and some interaction with the people at the local textile museum. Wonderful wanderings through markets, workshops and and studios. Then, before we know it, we'll be back on a bus heading for Puerto Vallarta. I have always wanted to go to Oaxaca. But the time has never been right. I know there are those who do not think that the time is now absolutely right. My life is different now, however. It might be that I am a more fatalistic human being than I've ever been before. I'll be among great friends, both American and Canadian. I love being in Mexico and I think this trip will offer a huge opportunity for diversion, for learning and growth. For me, at this time, I couldn't ask for more.