Three months have passed since I last wrote a blog. Looking back, I think that life was too full of living to allow time for writing. Several book talks, a trip to San Antonio, the holidays, family…On New Year’s Day, I promised myself I’d write a blog at least twice a month. Then, January passed and I still hadn’t written anything. I arrived in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico, and life is slower here.
There is more time to lie on a chaise longue in the portal to read. More time to gaze off toward the mountains. Rather than writing, though, I am promoting the book of stories by the gringas of Alamos. The final title is Our Stories of Alamos, A Pueblo Magico! , available on Amazon.com.
The plan was hatched two years ago when five of us women were having lunch at Terisita’s Bistro and Patricia Hamilton declared, “The women of Alamos are fabulous! We ought to write a book! I’ll publish it.” We all agreed and that was that. Within weeks, we dispersed to our other homes rather far away. (more…)
When I returned to my home in Capitola, California, after six weeks in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico, I had a terrible soggy cold and looked up in the Louise Hay book some probable metaphysical causes: “confusion, disorder, small hurts. Family and calendar beliefs.”
That rings true. I miss Alamos already. It is a small colonial puebla in the foothills of the Sierra Madre Oeste in the southeast corner of the state of Sonora. The weather in winter is brisk in the mornings and warmer as the sun rises. I liked to sit on a bench in the garden to watch the shadows move away as bright light heated the patio. The air was dry and clear, and the mountains majestic. (more…)
How many hundreds of times have I heard, “Hi, I’m home”? It reminds me of when sons would pour in the door from school or their father would come in from the garage after work. These days, when I return, I call out to the furniture, “Hi, I’m home!”
A couple of weeks ago, as I pulled up to the front curb, I saw Patricia Hamilton, my publisher and friend, sitting in a rocking chair on my front porch. “Hi,” she said, “You’re home!” (more…)
Last Saturday, 24 women gathered at my little house in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico, and I encouraged them to write their stories. The goal is a collection of tales about expats and their relationships both with themselves and this small, colonial pueblo tucked into the folds of the foothills of Oeste Sierra Madre.
The workshop began with ice cream cones (I believe ice cream in the morning fosters courage). Then we launched into a series of three-minute writing exercises to prime the creative pump. (more…)
From deep in the sun-washed South East corner of Sonora, Mexico, I finally sit down to write a blog for the first time in weeks!
In the small, historic pueblo of Alamos, last week, all week long, tourists from Mexico and abroad, local Mexicans and gringos listened to 400 musicians from all over the world. A Mexican clarinet quintet; a piano, viola, violin trio from Russia, a Polish pianist who played Chopin’s Polonesa op 53 with such vigor, his glasses bounced on is nose. Vietnamese opera soprano Sumi Jo, charmed the audience when she flirted with the conductor. Various rock bands played out on the edge of town near the cemetery. Puerto Rican salsa music had dancers in the street. In the church and the palacio and the streets and even in a stone alley with excellent acoustics, music poured over Alamos from every direction.
In my previous post, I talked about how a few of the women of Alamos, Sonora, Mexico planned to profile each of the fabulous women there and ask them to write the story of how they arrived in Alamos. Here is MY answer:
Curiosity. I’d always been curious. In Coquille High School biology, I asked, “How does the water get up the corn stalk?” She answered, “It’s God’s will.”
During rush week at University of Oregon, I asked, “How much is your mortgage?” My father had said, “The higher the mortgage, the less money for good food.” In those days, I was slender and hungry so I pledged a sorority with no mortgage. (more…)
Last month while I was in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico, five expat women friends and I had lunch and planned a project that we now call “The Fabulous Women of Alamos.” We hadn’t planned to plan anything, but as we chatted, Patricia, the newest among us, said, “You know, the women of Alamos are really fabulous. I bet they have great stories to tell.”
We sat at Terisita’s black and white tiled French Bistro, enjoying our grown-in-the-backyard greens, and talking about our friends, the fabulous women of Alamos. Bernadette, a painter and photographer, said, “I should take photos of all the women and we can have an exhibit!” (more…)