Pigeon Wars

I've been back in San Miguel for a little less than three weeks and still looking for my groove. I feel pretty good about being here but at times I sure miss Ned who took care of lots of little things around the house.

Every time we were gone for a while, pigeons would try to move in somewhere....the patio or one of the terraces. Ned was the great pigeon hunter. He didn't actually kill them but he tried a lot of ways to shoo them away and if he heard one he was out of his chair and running to the patio or terrace to shoot them with the water hose or wave a towel and holler at them. After some time of disturbing their roosting spots, they would move on. The pigeons had moved in again on the upper terrace. With some help, I now have all the roosting spots screened off. So far, so good. No pigeon poop on the terrace floor today.

I think the problem is solved but I've been smiling for the last couple of days remembering how Ned looked flapping a towel and shouting "Shoo."

This image....We had rain most of the night last Sunday. On Monday when I walked into town the streets were still wet. I love the reflections of the building and sky on the cobblestones.

It is Not a Coincidence!

I'm not sure what to call this post but I have more stories about Ned taking care of me.

The first one happened right after I arrived back in San Miguel on Sunday. One of the first things we always did shortly after we arrived was check out the phones and the Internet to see if they were working. I checked. Sure enough the Internet wasn't working which, of course, meant that the Vonage phone wasn't working either. The family had told me to let them know when I got here. I had no way to do that without a working Internet connection but some friends sent them an email so they wouldn't worry. It hasn't been that long ago that we didn't have Internet and Vonage and Skype and I guess several other technical marvels of connection but we do have them now. I can't begin to tell you how stranded I felt. Even worse is that I knew that Megacable was having problems and the stories from friends about not being able to reach Megacable by phone or having to go sit in their office for several hours before they could report a problem or waiting three or more days for a technician made me want to cry.

Ned was always the person who dealt with the cable company and when it was out he would start calling a little after 8 in the morning although the company didn't open until 9. Most of the time he managed to get through to someone before the office was officially open. I knew he had a number somewhere that would get him into the technical area instead of the general customer service area. But what was the number. Monday morning I looked in several places for the number. Then I just sat down at his desk and started talking to him. I opened one of the desk drawers and there on the top of everything was this faded cable bill from October, 2004 with numbers and notes scribbled on it. About 8:45 I started calling some of the numbers but never got an answer.

Okay....it was looking like I would have to go sit at Megacable until I could report the outage but first I walked Carly. On the street behind our house I saw a Megacable truck and also a neighbor who speaks Spanish. I told him about my problem and he asked the technician if he would go check out the problem. The technician said he would have to call the office to get permission to go into the house. I could see a clipboard with pages of addresses for him to take care of and I didn't have much hope of him getting permission to help me. He stayed on the line for about 10 minutes with the office and then said that he had permission. I was overjoyed. He followed me to the house and after an hour I had a new cable modem and working Internet. The chances of that happening in less than 24 hours after I arrived in San Miguel are so remote that I knew Ned was still taking care of me.

Another thing happened today. Last night I wanted to watch a DVD movie but when I went to put the movie in I realized that I didn't know how to work the remote to get it to play. I'm sure you men are shaking your heads and wondering what in the heck is the matter with me. Well, using the remote was Ned's job. My head was already full of Photoshop and Lightroom shortcuts and important stuff like that so I just never bothered to learn how to do it. I figured I would have to pay the guy who set up our dish, TV, DVD, etc., to come show me how.

Nope, once again Ned was taking care of me. This afternoon there was a knock on the door and who was there? Richard, a friend who comes to San Miguel from time to time. He was here for a few days and I didn't even know he was in town. He had been to comida or somewhere and thought about me so he just stopped by and knocked on the door. I told Richard my sad tale about the remote. He took it and in about 30 seconds had it figured out. I wrote the sequence down and so tonight I can watch my movie.

If you are thinking that these are just coincidences, you will never, ever convince me of that. I know from deep inside that it is Ned still watching out for me.

Taking Ned to Mexico

This blog is coming to you from San Miguel de Allende. Yes, I'm back. Arrived Sunday afternoon. The last few days in Houston were kind of crazy. I was worried about how to get most of my clothes that have collected in Houston over the last two years back to SMA. Would my two suitcases be overweight? What about my camera equipment? But my biggest worry last week was Ned's ashes. I wanted to bring some of his ashes to SMA.

The Funeral Home told me that they had sent cremated remains back to Mexico and they would provide the proper documentation for Mexican customs. I received a sealed box, a death certificate in Spanish and a letter in Spanish stating that the deceased had no communicable diseases. Okay. But I was still worried. I know that "rules" change from location to location, from day to day and from agent to agent in Mexico. I could just envision Mexico confiscating Ned's ashes from me and who knows where they would end up. The last couple of nights I was in Houston I took sleeping pills!

Okay, so I'm prepared for anything that might happen in Mexico. Little did I expect a problem North of the Border.

I get to the security line and I found out that since I'm 75 years old, I don't have to take my shoes off. I don't like being old but not having to take your shoes off is an advantage. I dutifully load up the plastic trays with shoulder bag with Ned's ashes and a carry-on. I have to go through the scanner and then turn to collect my stuff. The security person tells me to move over to the table that they have to check out the shoulder bag.

"Mam, what is in this bag?"
That official police voice which means she will not tolerate any objection.
"My purse, my Kindle and my husband's ashes."
She takes the sealed box out of the suede bag provided by the Funeral Home.
She wipes the inside of the bag with one of those explosive wipes.
"Mam, I'm going to have to take this box for a special scan."
She starts to walk away with the box.
"Where are you taking my husband?"
 Tears start rolling down my cheeks.
She gets a wire basket and puts the box in it.
"Over here for the special scan."
Now my nose is running and my breath is coming in hiccups.
She is back in less than a minute and gently puts the box back in the suede bag.
In a kind and gentle voice
"Mam, I'm sorry for your loss."

The flight was uneventful. In flight I fill out the entry form and the Custom Declarations form although I was not quite sure how to check it to declare Ned's ashes. I'm afraid if I don't tell them that I have the ashes and I get the red light that they will surely confiscate Ned's ashes.

Now Mexican Immigration and Mexican Custom. No problems though immigration. I get a porter to help with the luggage. I get to the Customs Agent.

"I'm not sure how I should fill out this Customs Declarations form but I have my husband's ashes."
"You have your husband with you????"
"No, my husband has died. I have his ashes with me and the paperwork to bring them into Mexico."
"Oh, push the button."
I pushed the button and got a green light.
She said
"Buenos Dias" and reached for the next person's Declarations form.
The porter and I walked out with my luggage and Ned's ashes.

I think that Ned is happy that at least a part of him is here in San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico, a place he loved dearly.

Ned Is Still Taking Care of Me

I'm doing all the things you have to do when you lose a husband. See the Accountant, the Attorney, take care of financial matters.

Monday when I saw the Attorney about the Will. She asked me for the original copy of the Will. I was sure it was in the safe deposit box. The problem is that I have not been able to find the key for the box. Ned always brought it but I had looked and looked, in his "man" purse, suitcases and briefcases. No key. So I had called the bank to find out how I went about getting the box opened and I was going to pay to have it done this week. All afternoon on Monday, I was thinking about the key and "talking" to Ned. And by the way, I talk to Ned a lot. Monday night I had the urge to go look one more time in the briefcases. I went through the first one and just as I was about to put it down I realized that there was a concealed zippered pocked inside another pocket. I unzipped it and there was the safe deposit key.

Tuesday I went to the bank and opened the safe deposit box. There were all the legal papers that I needed both here and in Mexico.

I think Ned is still watching out for me.