Big family outing

We all decided to take a day off today – it was windy in the morning, and the waves looked terrible. Instead, we walked up the coast to San Pancho, the next town north. The first part of the hike is through town, then out past all the new big development, then on a path through the real jungle, crossing driveways every so often which appear out of nowhere. It dumps out on a long beach, usually nearly empty except for a few hikers, horseback riders, or really intrepid sunbathers. The waves out here are really different than in town – huge beach breaks that lunge up suddenly and crash loudly on the sand. Quite dramatic and lovely. We walked along this beach for quite a while, carrying our shoes in hand and admiring the views. (I took lots of pictures, some of which I will post later on.) At the end of the beach is a big point with a big fancy house – it used to belong to a former president of Mexico, but was bought and sold several times before becoming whatever it is now. This is relevant because every time we do this hike, it is unclear whether we will be able to cross the point onto the next beach and the town! This time, ignoring the large posted ‘No Trespassing’ signs, we simply walked through the gate, across the driveway, and through the other gate, doing our best to look as if we belonged. No problems.

Once in town, we stopped for a late brunch (it was nearly one o’clock) at a new restaurant and wandered through an arts fair which consisted of some high-quality expensive jewelry, some mixed-bag paintings, and a mask-making workshop with lots of very thrilled children. There was music and dancing promised for later this evening. It was pretty neat, apparently the first annual attempt. San Pancho is a very different kind of town, much more ‘expats retiring to write their novel’ than beach freaks who want to lay out all day and party all night. It feels much quieter and wealthier than Sayulita, which is hopping right now, people (and cars) everywhere. It was kind of a nice change for the day. By the time we did the whole hike in reverse, we were pretty wiped – trekking through sand really takes it out of you. W and I stopped for paletas to help us make it up the hill.

I have a week left, and I’m trying to enjoy every minute, especially when I hear about the extra foot of snow Denver got yesterday!

On a schedule

Even days in Mexico have a schedule, although it's not quite as stringent as life back at home. Goes something like this: wake up early-ish (sometime around six thirty), have a few pieces of toast with peanut butter and jam, put on surf clothes and head to the beach. Go surfing. Either come back to the house for another go at breakfast, or hang out on the beach chatting, people-watching, or working on Sudoku, depending on how early we left the house. Sometimes we’ll surf twice. Usually we do lunch at home, quesadillas with fresh avocado and tomatoes. Then it’s nap time, when most of the family sleeps and I tend to read or work in ‘the office’. Maybe a hike before dinner at seven-ish. In bed by nine-ish.

There are variations, of course – we might drive to ‘the other side’ to surf there, we might sleep in and surf late, we might have lunch at the beach – but the days progress in a generally orderly fashion. Getting into the routine is just part of the whole lifestyle here. On some trips you plan out every day, getting the most of the museums, the culture, the scenery, and that’s what makes the trip special. Here, it’s about finding the rhythm and settling in. As our friend Jackson likes to say, “Well, I started slow and then I tapered off.” Nap time here is more than a habit, it’s a scheduled part of the day. Few decisions equals little stress. We sit at the same spot on the beach, run into the same people at the same times, and revel in the little things. These traditions change so slowly from year to year (this is our twelfth winter here) that it’s strange to look back and think, “huh, we didn’t use to do _____.”

Sometimes familiarity breeds contempt, but sometimes it’s just comfortable.

Livin' it up

Surf photos from the beach yesterday.   More to come -- got to get back to the beach.

Thanksgiving at Christmas

The surf here was still kind of funky this morning, so we packed up and headed off down the coast, driving a borrowed car piled high with our boards. We parked down an alley next to a big new development, and headed into the jungle on a narrow hard-packed path. I wished I had my camera! After winding through a dry streambed, the trail turned sharply and headed up a small cliff. Climbing one-handed while gripping a nine foot surfboard is not highly recommended by me – I made it to the top safely, but a bit battered by the branch of a dead tree which I used to haul myself up. W, who followed me, ended up with an identical bruise.

After another ten minutes, the path found its way to a lovely and nearly empty beach, a nice change from the crowds at home. The big development was hidden by the cliffs, although it was easy to see from the surf lineup. We had a great session, caught lots of smallish waves, and enjoyed the change of scenery. Went for a walk along the beach afterwards to marvel at the new houses which seem to spring up like mushrooms after a rainstorm.

On the way back, we stopped for lunch at El Anclote – limonadas and fajitas de pollo, with a side order of guacamole and extra beans. Yum. Back home in time for a siesta, although I mostly read. When I came upstairs to write this, Mom and W were already typing away – ‘office hours’ Mexico style! I think next we’re off for a hike up to the highest point in town to get a little more exercise.

After a huge Thanksgiving-style feast last night complete with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie (key ingredients of the latter two were brought in my luggage) we are all ready for something a little simpler for dinner tonight! Mike and Kerry are taking his mom out to Don Pedro's and offered up a salmon filet which we'll make with leftover mashed potatoes and some vegies. Not very Mexican, but very good!

Mexican pirates

Mexico madness continues. Last night we held our annual Christmas Eve pirate party. About twenty-five people came, friends of ours from near and far but all met here in Sayulita. Mike explained the rules, and the thefts began. At different times during the night, I found myself holding the gift certificate for a massage, a box of truffles, and an assortment of See’s candies, but when the exchange was over, all I had was a bag of M & M’s! Life is harsh. I shook off the disappointment and enjoyed the rest of the evening…until bedtime.

The people across the street apparently wanted to outdo our party -- they played very loud Mexican disco music, with accompanying cackling and giggles, until approximately six am, when they took a short break, and then turned it back on at six thirty. I know I slept at least a little, because I had very bizarre dreams, but it can’t have been for long! Ahh, Mexico.

The surf wasn’t great this morning, but hey, you have to be able to say you surfed on Christmas, so we all went out for an hour or so. It’s fun to surf with my whole family and a bunch of our friends – for a while we were the only ones to venture out!

I think it’s time for a nap, now………

Mexico

I made it to Mexico yesterday, braving mile-long lines at the Denver airport. The closures have really wreaked havoc with travel! It feels good to be here, although the madness has already set in. We woke up this morning at 5 am to sparks and flames darting over the wall next to our property. Willow screamed, "Dad!" and jumped out of bed. Dad grabbed the hose (and his shorts) and ran up the outside stairs to see a thirty foot bonfire blazing away in the yard next door. The Mexican warming his hands at the flames seemed startled by our yells and cries. "Tengo agua," he said, pointing at a five gallon bucket by his feet. "No problema." As the sparks danced dangerously close to our tinder-dry palapa roof, my dad yelled back, "Si, es problema!" and turned the hose on, damping the brush. After a few more minutes of yelling and Spanglish, and after another huge flare-up, Dad gave up and just soaked the fire.

We hesitated to leave the house, but we sure weren't going back to sleep, so we pulled on our surf gear and headed to the beach. The sun wouldn't be up for another hour, but hey, we were (almost) the only ones in the water, and it was plenty light to see the waves rolling in...  

When the sun did come up, there were almost twenty surfers out, and we came back in for "second breakfast" and a warm shower.  I'm writing this on our second floor porch, poaching an internet connection from the little Italian restaurant down tbe block. This town sure has changed!

An update

For those of you eagerly following my post and curious about our blizzard, the news is that the snow, although still falling, has slowed considerably, and the wind has died. I shoveled the walk (again) after breakfast, and the walls on either side are past my knees. The snow on top of our recycling bin reaches from my fingertips to my armpit!  It's got to be at least two feet.  School was cancelled again, which means no classes until January 9th when the holiday break is over!

We haven't braved the streets yet -- they look pretty miserable.  Instead we're whiling away the time watching movies, reading, and eating.  The Notorious Bettie Page is a great film, if you're interested, and L'Auberge Espagnole was also a treat, especially if you've ever lived or studied abroad. The airport is still virtually closed, with 75% of flights cancelled, and is predicted not to open until sometime tomorrow, so I'm crossing my fingers that all will be well by noon on Saturday, when I am scheduled to head south.  I'm glad now that I chose to leave on Saturday instead of Friday!  I thought I was just giving myself a day to rest and pack, but it may have saved my vacation.......

(Notice the differences between my last photo of the back yard, below......check out the table and chairs in particular!)

Winter arrives (a few days early)

 After several weeks of unseasonably lovely weather (sunny, in the low sixties), winter decided to come visit, with a vengeance. It has been promising to do so, according to all the weatherpeople out there, but it just kept putting it off for so long, I figured it had given up. Not so.

I woke up this morning to gusty winds and blowing snow, and maybe an inch of accumulation. Nothing unusual for Colorado, really. I dressed for school, ate some breakfast, and headed out the door. When I arrived at work, however (after a drive that was slippery but only two minutes longer than usual), it was to find the parking lot un-shoveled and nearly empty of cars. Hmm, I thought, everyone is running late. Not so. The custodians, who were putting up their feet in the main office, told me that school had been cancelled and laughed at me for not checking the news. It honestly had never occurred to me that this was a possibility. Denver last cancelled school four years ago, during the “Blizzard of 2003”, which dumped three feet of snow on the city overnight, and then I think once twenty-five years earlier. ‘Is our new superintendent a wuss?’ I thought. Maybe he’s just not originally from the Dakotas.

In any case, I picked up our class pet, Spike the guinea pig, just in case classes are cancelled tomorrow too. Winter break starts Friday, and I would be a Bad Teacher if I let Spike be stranded in the school without food or water for the whole two weeks. Once home, I gave Spike a couple of carrots and went happily back to bed, which was still nice and warm and inhabited by my husband. Mmmmm.

It’s now two-thirty and there is a little over a foot on the ground, more in some places because of all the gusting winds. I guess the superintendent was right. It would have been a real pain to cancel school in the middle of the day and send all the kids home! In any case, I have thoroughly enjoyed my unexpected holiday – we lit a fire, made French toast, read on the couch, and are planning to watch a movie after lunch. Extravagance. Of course, we’ve shoveled the walk twice, too. We’re not complete hedonists.

A blur

Our camera's flash has inexplicably stopped working, and long exposure times don't mix well with even medium amounts of wine consumption, so.... but you can get the flavor.  The lovely art in the background is courtesy of M and V.

Three days left

The party was a big success, a good mix of folks, plenty of wine, and some tasty food. W brought bruschetta with fresh mozzarella, A and I picked up olives, hummus and pita, and lots of frozen things from Target (along with the wine -- the SuperTarget on Colorado Blvd is one of the only 'grocery' stores in all of Colorado that is allowed to sell wine, due to strange legal loopholes), and most of the guests brought things to share as well. A wore his tux with a new tie and shirt, I wore the black silk dress that I bought for M's wedding, and almost everyone else dressed up too. It's fun to see people in their fancy clothes -- especially the gym teacher from school, who sported a long red formal gown!

On Sunday A and I drove up to Boulder to meet with our wedding photographer -- we wanted to pick out a group photo, and she enlarged the choices on her computer so we could look at everyone's faces. We spent half an hour, and then drove home. I spent the next four hours grading my students' writing journals, and then met W for sushi before the Nutcracker, her birthday present to me. It was performed in the brand new Ellie Caulkins Opera House, which is not only beautiful, but high-tech. Every seat has an individual sub-titling system (originally intended for opera of course) which can display information in any of several languages, and was used to inform us what was going on in the ballet ("The Prince tells Clara he will take her on a magical journey," for example). The program had lots of hyperbole about how it would be pointless to build any new venue without including this system, and how Colorado Ballet is "leading the way" in utilizing it for ballet.  Silly.

Today I verified that I could find my passport and started deciding what to pack.  Yes, I know I'm not leaving until Saturday.

Twenty nine for the first time

I am officially that age which people like to claim as their own when they don't want to tell you how old they are.  Does that mean no one will believe me?  I am actually looking forward to being thirty -- it sounds so mature and responsible.  It feels like I've been "in my twenties" for a long time.....

I had a lovely day -- I talked to my mom and sister last night, my dad called me at seven from a pay phone in Mexico, and my granddad called at 9:30 and asked, "So what time does school start, anyway?" Luckily my students were at gym, and we did get to chat briefly.  I got birthday calls and emails from both of my best friends off on the west coast and my grandparents in Paris, and the teacher across the hall called me into her room so her second-graders could serenade me while she played the piano!  

For the second year in a row, the staff holiday party was held on my birthday, which is actually pretty fun.  I get to pretend that everyone is there for me!  It will be hard to get up and go to meetings tomorrow morning, though.   At least it's a Friday.  Four more days until winter break.  Mostly I am looking forward to rearranging my students' seating assignments on Monday.  We do it every three weeks, and I don't understand how some teachers manage to keep kids in the same seats all year.  By the end of every three weeks, there are always five kids I need desperately to separate!

We're going to make snowflakes for art tomorrow -- suitably non-denominational, and complicated enough that it's good practice in listening to directions.  It brings me back to making snowflakes with my mom's friend Sheila, an artist who used to invite us kids over (just the kids, mind you) twice a year for big art projects -- snowflakes, and valentine's cards -- along with treats.  No one made snowflakes like Sheila, although I like to think that mine have gotten pretty impressive over the years, too.  At least my students like them.  The wide-eyed approval of ten-year-olds can be heady wine......

What's for dinner?

In an effort to answer this question, A and I have started a list of things we know how to cook and like to eat.  We are always searching for dishes to add to it, but it serves in a pinch -- ie, when I come home from work starving.  So far it looks something like this: chicken soup with noodles/potatoes/matzo balls; red beans and rice; tacos; spaghetti with sausage; ravioli; pasta salad; chicken/fish with potatoes and asparagus/broccoli; "ramen" (A makes a special homemade version which really deserves its own name); squash soup; stirfry; and various other dishes.  Last week we made lasagne for the first time in ages, and promptly added it to the list.  

We are, as mentioned, always on the lookout for new meals (or to be reminded about familiar meals we've forgotten that we know how to make).  Any advice/suggestions/recipes would be welcome!

To the mountains

Lest you think that taking thirty eleven-year-olds into the woods for an overnight trip is easy... This is an annual event for me as a fifth grade teacher, and I always look forward to it with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. It can be a nice change from the daily grind of classroom life, and everything (mostly) is planned by someone else, which is nice. It's fun to see kids out of their element, experiencing the mountains in winter, building a tipi, seeing deer tracks, assaying "gold" ore, in their pyjamas with their stuffed animals, etc.

On the other hand, it can be exhausting -- just being with (and in charge) of students for that length of time, with no breaks, really takes it out of you! And I always forget how comforting it is to have a daily schedule. Some kids invariably can't handle the relatively unstructured time, and go wild. Picture two boys running down a road screaming "Werewolves!" during a solo night walk, and you get the idea.

Every other year we've gone at the end of the week, leaving a weekend to recover, but this year we were assigned a Tuesday/Wednesday slot. Coming back to school for Thursday and Friday was kind of brutal. I think I slept twelve hours last night, trying to make up time! Add in teaching Family Life (another annual event -- fifth grade sex ed) and grading ninety district assessments, and you can see why I'm counting down the days (nine) to our winter break...

Gifts (and how to ask for them)

 This post is inspired by several things: a spate of semi-bizarre gifts received lately, several excellent home-made dinners, and a comment made by my friend M in her blog.  In any case, I would like to wax poetic about the joys of registering.  Not only is it kind of fun (if materialistic, sure) to run around Bed Bath and Beyond with a scanner gun, but we've ended up with some pretty sweet stuff.  Making dinner with brand new knives and an awesome non-stick pan is somehow way more fun than it used to be...and drinking wine from our crystal glasses is suitably bourgeois and thoroughly enjoyable.  Quality counts!  Not to mention that gifts that we didn't register for are kind of a hit-and-miss proposition.  We've had some great ones (notably, works of art) and some off-the-wall ones (a fire extinguisher, a set of tupperware, a tulip-painted porcelain tea set for six).  So yes, registering is kind of an odd phenomenon, and it can seem greedy to be so specific, but it's so nice to get exactly what you want for once (mostly), that it's worth doing.....and not nearly as stressful as it might seem.  Plus it avoids the avalanche of gift cards, since people can hardly claim ignorance of your wants and/or needs!

In an early and very low-tech version of this now-familiar trend, my grandfather used to send my sister and me catalogues around Christmas time, with the request to circle items of interest to us, indicating size and color preferences.  It made things easier for him, and we appreciated getting things we would actually wear!

Welcome to December

Only three weeks left until I can leave this snowy wasteland and head south to Mexico..... It is only seven degrees as I write this. Brrr. Heidi and I are taking our 31 fifth graders up to Balarat this week for two days, and I am praying that it will warm up. Miserable, cold, and whining ten-year-olds don't make for the best camping partners! Although it's pretty far from camping, really. We stay in lodges with bunk beds, and eat dinner around tables with silverware. Still, being outside for most of the day, especially in low temperatures, isn't really all that fun for anyone. Due to the budget crises experienced by pretty much all of Denver Public Schools, we had to shorten the trip to two days, which is kind of a bummer. It means we get to do only half of the activites they offer -- we chose the Living History option, which lets kids experience a little bit of the lives of the Native Americans, trappers and traders, miners, and pioneers (circa 1850). They build a tipi, bake biscuits in a wood oven, dip candles.....It's a pretty fun field trip, and a highlight of being a fifth grader, finally. This will be the sixth year that I've taken kids up into the mountains -- a highlight of being a fifth grade teacher, even with the sleep deprivation that comes with putting eighteen hyped-up girls into one room for the night!  

We're taking it easy this weekend, staying home and sleeping in.  I'm recovering from a short but intense cold, and grading about a million papers.  Tomorrow we're going to the Denver Botanic Gardens' "Blossoms of Light", courtesy of my realtor!  She is always sending me great stuff in the mail, two years now after I've bought my place.  Talk about maintaining relationships.  

Might be a good night for chicken soup and a movie......