I Was Crazy To Live In Reynosa

Mother Goose the Racist

2012-01-15T02:35:00.006-06:00

I was unpacking my books that I hadn't seen for a while here in the frozen tundra called Iowa when I ran across this colorful, friendly looking book that looks ever so inviting to children. I don't remember where I got this book or how long I've had it, It's copyright date is 1931. Contrary to the popular belief of my nephews I AM NOT THAT OLD.

So I'm flipping through the book reading about Humpty Dumpty and Little Jack Horner when HOLY COW I found this.

We used to recite it back in the 60's. And we really used to say it complete with the N word. Before you all start beating up on me (notice the ya'll has been changed to you all now that I'm back in Iowa), we hardly understood the significance of what we were saying at age 5 or 6 especially since the metropolis of Swisher, Iowa had population of 500, all of them lily white like me. I do remember that sometime by the late 60's, probably not coincidentally about the same time as the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King's speech, and the Black Panthers' Ten Point Program, we were informed to change the N word to tiger.

Even so, when my book fell open to this page it shocked me. And jarred my memory of the days when we used to recite it. And a good reminder of how far we've come since 1931.

Vali-ho Motel Is Hiring

2011-12-27T22:28:00.000-06:00

Vally-ho Motel is now hiring. Anyone need a job?

Direct from their website, and I quote (not really, it's more like copy and paste):

Welcome to Vali-Ho Motel. In the heart of the Rio Grande Valley, feel Texas at its very best. Weslaco is different than other cities in the Valley. You'll find more than friendly people and a relaxed atmosphere. You'll discover great shopping, golf and the best way to get to Mexico for an afternoon adventure. So come one and come all !
At Vali-Ho Motel, our staff strives to make you feel welcome. 24-hour service means that you will always have a roof over your head. While you explore nearby attractions, our staff will take care of your room. We think you will like Vali-Ho Motel so much, that you’ll wish you could take us back home with you !
Rio Grande Valley is filled with various attractions. One of the top attraction that draw people here is its variety of birds. Every year thousands of visitors floak the place to watch the spectable of nature. Besides bird watching, You'll discover great shopping, golf and the best way to get to Mexico. So what are you waiting for ?
Tired of looking for directions ? Well, to reach us you won't be, because it is easy to find us. We are located on East Business Highway 83, between McAllen and Harlingen. If you coming for first time, use the interactive map below to find distance and estimated time from your place. If you feel stuck or need any help, we are here to assist you.
Weslaco is different than other cities in the Valley and Vali-Ho Motel is different than other motels in the area. You will find relaxed atmosphere and friendly people at your service. We have a long list of happy customers and we look forward to serving you. We are the Weslaco, Texas preferred motel!

I've often wondered what is the best way to get to Mexico. So come one and come all (snicker, snicker). And along with thousands of visitors "floaking" the place to watch the "spectable" of nature they have a long list of happy customers. I bet they do!

Buy 1, Blow 5 Of Your Fingers Off For Free

2011-12-26T01:00:00.004-06:00

One of the few places open on Christmas day were several fireworks stands along Hwy 107. This stand next to my home was still open at midnight tonight and all lit up, well, um, like a Griswold Christmas tree. There are several thousands of these stands all over south Texas. Most of the year they are boarded up but I've noticed twice a year they sometimes come to life just before Christmas and 4th of July.

I've been told, because I'm too lazy to do research, these fireworks stands are only allowed by law to sell a few days before New Years and 4th of July after which time they are forced to close. And that's only IF there is no drought which around here is about 95% of the time. Luckily we've had a fair amount of rain lately, the first in more than a year. Saturday the sky dripped all day like a leaky faucet. But how is it that this is a profitable business especially when you can buy 1 and get 5 free? I imagine there is a 5,000% markup but I'd still suggest these sellers don't quit their day job.

P.S. I must be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder because every time I hear the fireworks going off in the hood, I hit the deck and crawl like I'm trying to avoid bullets.

Uphill Battle and a LONG ROAD

2011-12-23T15:07:00.000-06:00

I'm waiting for the moving company's call. It's costing me a fortune so I hope it all goes smooth. Meanwhile my sister is cleaning out the brother-in-law's house of all broken and nasty furniture. His bed (actually was my sister's bed) wasn't too bad, but I'd get the heebie jeebies knowing he slept on that bed so it has to go too. My furniture will go into the house at least temporarily. Whether the boys get to remain in their home is up in the air.

The boys will have a great Christmas thanks to my sister. Some relatives seem to think that we've got what little money Alfonso had to cover our expenses. NOT TRUE! Getting custody and rights to be administrator of the estate takes time. Nor have we received any social security benefits yet. It is doubtful that Alfonso had mortgage insurance. The mortgage must be paid monthly. My ex-husband came up with December's payment. My sister who is on FMLA so she isn't getting a paycheck will cover January. Andrew got his new glasses thanks to the school and my sister who covered some of the expenses. Along with food, transportation, piano lessons, clothes, and all general expenses in raising children.

I hope to be in Iowa by the New Years and I've promised the boys another celebration. My youngest nephew is 7 years old and he has asked Santa if he could have enough money to go back to his own home. They've had their world turned upside in the past two years. Right now he is sharing a bed with his big brother at my sister's house, but you can't blame them for wanting to go home. To sleep in their own bed. To have access to all their toys. Being where they are familiar. Friends and neighbors. Is that too much to ask?

Hunting Students Is In Season In Texas

2011-12-13T15:02:00.002-06:00

Apparently hunting middle school students is in season here in Texas, or at least at Harwell Middle School in Edinburg where I live. The school was having basketball tryouts for the boy's team. The hunters must have mistook them for ducks. One of the students was sitting on a curb, the proverbial sitting duck, and the other was going for a layup making him a moving target.

Maybe they are practicing for the spillover violence from Mexico under the guise of hunting fowl. If more of these good ol' boys are thinking of using more human targets in this vicinity, I may be heading for higher ground (Iowa) sooner than later.

Zoo Anals

2011-12-13T13:54:00.000-06:00

I'm back in Texas, temporarily, where running around in shorts and flip flops in December days are numbered. I guess I could still do it in Iowa if I don't mind frostbite and toes falling off. The boys are in the care of my sister Deana who is impatiently (and rightfully so) counting the minutes until my arrival. Yesterday she started her day at 5:30 AM yesterday and finished at 10:30 at night while I write this... wearing shorts and flip flops. The cavalry is coming to the rescue. OK, it's just me, my Mazda MPV, Miss Daisy Dog, and Mr. Sam Katze ashes. Yes, I am bringing home my cat for burial in Iowa. When I get back to Iowa I need to do a serious blog overhaul and update to reflect my new life. Any ideas for a title? It will probably include lots of cute and gushing mommy-like praise for things like this story my 7-year-old nephew wrote. The translation is below the picture.

"If I caught a turkey I would take it to the zoo and the turkey will have a great good life. It will be a zoo animal."

This is a keeper. That turkey must have been injected with steroids or the people are midgets. And thank goodness for my teacher's training at the university where I learned how to translate 1st - 6th grade spelling plus two years of experience in Mexico for deciphering inventive spelling. Unless Alex really meant that the turkey should be a "zoo anal".

It's been a while since I raised young'uns. Ah, yes, my nephews will be new fuel for my blog writing but I still hope to sneak in some reminiscing about the good ol' days in Texas and Mexico.

My Blog For Therapeutic Anger Management

2011-12-08T13:22:00.000-06:00

It's been a couple weeks since I made an emergency trip to Iowa. It's been a whirlwind. First and foremost is caring for my nephews. Life goes on and so does school, checking homework, making nutritional dinners, washing their clothes, driving them to piano lessons, birthday parties, and making sure they get to sleep early enough to start all over again.

Then there is the dealing with Alfonso's estate, getting a lawyer, getting custody of the kids, and getting rights as executor. Holy cow, what a mess. His filing system was to throw everything in a box, junk mail and all. What I have discovered is not a pretty picture. Since the death of my sister in February 2010, he has blown through $80,000, not including his yearly (before taxes) salary of $36,000 and $2000 a month social security (tax free). Now I really understand why my sister was in charge of the finances. She had told me that he would spend all the money if he had free access. Hopefully, his life insurance will pay out because although his death certificate says it was accidental, the cause of death was listed as carbon monoxide poisoning and acute intoxication. Do insurance companies pay out for acute intoxication, AKA extreme stupidity for shutting a garage door and passing out before shutting off a car?

Here is a rough accounting of $80,000 all gone in 18 months (not including his salary and social security which is also gone).
1. $16,000 in Moneygrams to various individuals including $3200 to Dominican girlfriend Ana Luisa Lora since July 2011. Alfonso was planning his 3rd trip in one year to the Dominican this December. He was planning on abandoning his boys for 3 weeks during Christmas to marry the girlfriend WHO the boys never knew existed until the day of his funeral.
2. Traded in the Mercedes plus an additional $6,696 to buy a Lincoln Navigator which he subsequently shipped to the Dominican last June. He was suppose to sell it there and, as far as we know, it is not sold yet. The boys will never see the money.
3. Paid $5000 down on a Cadillac Escalade luxury SUV a year ago (this is a man that makes $14/hr). Cost $500 in registration and $1000/yr for insurance. Still owes $27,000 on Escalade which about what we might be able to sell it for. It is going back to the bank.
4. Alfonso did not file his 2010 taxes correctly. He neglected to include the 1099R form for the early distribution of Lynn's IRA $18,000 that he cashed (money she earned before meeting Alfonso). His estate will have to pay the taxes, penalty and interest which will amount to about $3000.
5. And of all things, Alfonso bought a time share in the Dominican last summer. He put $1755 down, plus $200 for maintenance, plus $100/mo is being auto deducted from his bank. I don't know how we can get any of this returned!!! He has a reservation in December that he paid $527. I've called twice trying to cancel reservation and contract and all they want to know is if I will be taking over the contract. Yeah, right!
6. With Lynn's life insurance of $50,000, Alfonso was suppose to put down 20% on his home. He only put down 10% or about $15,000. Where did the rest of the money go? I am guessing Moneygrams and cars.
7. Alfonso has taken $3600 from Andrew's savings account and $300 from Alex's account. My sister set their savings accounts and he stole from his own children.

8. After they sold their home in November 2009, my sister had $15,000 from the sale in her account. This went to Alfonso and it is gone.

9. Alfonso received $14,000 tax refund for 2010 taxes. It is gone.
10. Alfonso was never home. Either working or playing ball or out drinking and leaving his children home alone for hours. Andrew did all the housecleaning, laundry, a fair amount of cooking and caring for his brother. Andrew needs glasses, braces, and didn't even have a winter coat.

The only family member for Alfonso to show up for the funeral was a nephew who lives in New York. I believe the only reason he came was to try to extort money. During our first meeting with us, he asked us for $14,000 (in addition to the funeral expenses in Iowa) for a big funeral in the Dominican Republic because he was a local hotshot baseball hero (Alfonso played professional baseball for minor leagues in the USA). He told us that if they didn't get the money, the family, who all live in the Dominican, will sue us for custody of the children. These people wouldn't even know the children if they passed them on the street! Thank goodness the children's social worker is on our side. There is no chance the boys are going to the Dominican Republic to live. Or visit. Ever. They are only interested in the children now because they think they can get some money out of it. Well, they are welcome to come and inspect Alfonso's finances. The man was up to his ears in debt and broke.

Yes, I am seething with anger. I will get over it, eventually, with the help of therapy.

Life Changing Event

2011-11-27T23:56:00.001-06:00

Where to start? I guess the beginning is the best place. Everyone who has read my blog a long time knows that my sister Lynn died in a car accident in February 2010. She was separated from her husband Alfonso at the time and was planning on a divorce after she finished nursing school the following December. After her death, he took on the responsibility of raising their 2 sons alone. On Thanksgiving Day, the unimaginable happened. Alfonso went out drinking Wednesday night and when he returned after the bar closed he managed to park the car inside the garage, close the garage door, and then passed out inside the car. What he didn't manage to do is shut the car off.

Around 8 o'clock in the morning, my 13-year-old nephew Andrew was awakened by the carbon monoxide detector inside the home. Recently a new detector was bought at my nephew's insistence. Andrew is the most responsible and wise 13-year-old I have ever known. The first thing he did was open the windows of the house. Then he went down to the garage and found his father. When he couldn't arouse his dad, he called 911. The police and ambulance arrived but it was too late. The police called my other sister who lives in the same town. Within 2 years, my nephews have lost both parents.

My nephews are orphans and decisions must be made. Here are the choices and non-choices:

1. Live with family in the Dominican Republic. All of his family live there except one brother in New York who is not in this country legally. The children have never met the brother and they are not going to live in the Dominican Republic, a place where they've only been to once to meet their father's family. Living with Alfonso's family is not a choice.

2. Foster care. Nope. Not even going to rationalize why this isn't a choice.

3. Maternal grandparents that live in Texas. There are several reasons why this is not a good idea. My nephews have already changed schools after the death of their mother. Uprooting them to Texas is too much for them to handle. I believe Iowa is a better place to raise children than South Texas. Alex is only 7 years old and by the time he graduates from high school my father will be 90 years old. Choice #3 is better than #1 and #2, but we all agree, grandparents included, that it would be too difficult for them to raise young children.

4. My sister Deana who lives in the same city as my nephews. They could remain in the same schools. My sister has a big enough house. But my sister is a nurse in a hospital and she works rotating days and nights plus weekends. My brother-in-law also works rotating shifts of days, nights, and weekends. Their own 2 children are in high school and very active. Plus my sister was recently diagnosed with a chronic illness and has not yet gotten it under control.

5. Me.

After much discussion, my sister and I have decided to ask the court to grant us joint custody of our nephews. I will move from Texas to care for my nephews full time. We are unsure of a lot of things right now. Tomorrow my sister and I will be visiting the schools and meeting teachers. We need to find out how to petition the court for custody. We need to find a family lawyer. We have no idea if my nephews will be able to remain in their home with me living there to care for them. We need to find out how to become an executor of Alfonso's estate. We need to contact Social Security (Alfonso was already receiving monthly checks after my sister's death). So much to do. Too overwhelming.

We will take it one day at a time.

Why Did The Chicken Cross The Rio?

2011-11-08T16:07:00.004-06:00

"In the United States cockfighting is against the law in all 50 states, but is not illegal to possess, raise, train, advertise, or trade cocks or accoutrements that could be used for cockfighting. However, actively participating in a cockfight in any manner is illegal: advertising, transporting participants or spectators, placing wagers, hosting an event, etc."

If one can legally possess, raise, train, advertise, trade, or have all the paraphernalia needed for cockfighting but not actually hold a cockfight (or even be a spectator at a cockfight in 40 states), what's the point? So why do I see these chickens tethered to their A-framed houses all over southern Texas if the actual act of cockfighting is banned?

Because it is not prohibited to bring these chickens into Mexico where cockfighting is legal. In fact, I lived close to a palenque (cockfighting arena) in Reynosa, or at least that is what I was told. Never went there. I've never been to a bullfight either. I'm not exactly a PETA poster girl or animal rights activist although I did recently donate money to the Humane Society. Sorry PETA, I love chicken fajitas.

But, wait! Here is a list of items that are prohibited to bring to Mexico which does not include live chickens.

Prohibited Imports

Soil
Bales of hay, natural straw or any straw decoration
Homemade food items
Meal of bone or meat

This means I can bring chickens raised in Texas for the purpose of vicious and cruel cockfighting to the death into Mexico, but I better leave the homemade cookies behind.

Say What?

2011-11-08T13:19:00.000-06:00

Do you know what they call a self-help group for people who can't speak English? It's called school. More people in the United States should take advantage of it.

Hey Grandpa, What's For Supper?

2011-11-05T17:38:00.002-05:00

A couple years ago when I went to Ciudad Valles, the family I stayed with cooked an entire pig in a big metal pot on an open fire outside. Just like on the farm in Iowa. "Everything but the squeal," my mom used to say. Even the head was cooked up in the pot. I may be from Iowa but I weren't no farm gal, thank God. I don't think I would last 2 minutes on a farm. Head cheese is a Czech delicacy made from part of the pig's head that I just never could get into eating. Same goes for pig's feet that was sold at our local store in Iowa. Blchhh! And chicharrones AKA pork cracklings in Iowa. Double blchhh!

Here is a list of some vittles straight out of a Beverly Hillbilly's menu that I have tried and my reactions:

1. Snapping turtle out of the Mississippi River. My step-grandfather Butch was a butcher. His real name was Emmett, but you can guess how he got his nickname. I was with him when he found this turtle. It took hours to prepare in a slow cooker, but, gosh darn, it was good.

Butch butchering the turtle

2. Crawdad. They're OK, but a lot of effort for very little meat. And sucking juice out of the head is kind of gross.

3. Pheasant that my dad shot for Thanksgiving. Tastes like chicken. We had more fun making head bands with the feathers.

4. Rabbit that my dad also hunted. I guess it tastes like rabbit.

5. Mushrooms from the forest across the road from our house next to Coralville Lake. Morels in the spring and the goat's beard in the fall. The true Czechs love mushrooms so much that we even have a festival called Houby Days.

6. Venison. Duh, I'm from Iowa. Everyone from Iowa has eaten deer at least once. We got too many deer even in the middle of the city. They thought my tulips were their personal smorgasbord planted just for their eating pleasure.

7. Alligator. It was fried up like chicken nuggets. It was pretty good but a little tougher than chicken.

8. Rattlesnake meat... just a couple weeks ago. I went to a party and this guy pulls a frozen skinned serpent out of the freezer and commenced to chopping it up for grilling. He caught it on his ranch in South Texas. It had a bit of a game flavor. I couldn't choke down any more than one eensy, teensy, itty-bitty bite because my brain rejected it based on the fact that it was RATTLESNAKE meat.

Rattlesnake meat

Freddy eating rattlesnake meat

Me, choking down a sliver of rattlesnake meat

You can imagine what I thought when this same guy pulls another bag out of the freezer containing a skinned and gutted ARMADILLO. Do people really eat them things? Seriously? I gotta draw the line somewhere. Armadillo is that line.

skinned and frozen armadillo

What is the strangest thing you have ever eaten?

Tattooed Eyebrows - Ladies, It Is Not A Good Look

2011-10-28T22:20:00.002-05:00

One evening a few weeks ago during the course of conversation with my sister who lives in Iowa, I asked if she sees a lot of woman with tattooed eyebrows. She said no, but she would keep an eye out for women who felt the need for a permanent displacement of their eyebrows. She called me back a few weeks later and reported no sightings. She stated that although she was not blessed in the eyebrow department herself, she would not be getting tattooed arched brows that look like they were drawn with a sharpie.

It seems to be epidemic in the Texas Valley and the Mexican frontier. I implore anyone who is thinking of doing it PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T!!!!

Ladies, it is not a good look.

Disclaimer: I took (stole) these images off the internet because I am not comfortable going up to women and asking if I can take photos of their ugly eyebrows.

I Am American and You Are Not

2011-10-24T22:48:00.001-05:00

The title of this post might seem like I'm spoilin' for a fight but I am not so read on...

Twice it has been brought up to me, once by a Mexican and the other by a Honduran, that Americans (meaning born in the USA) feel we are the only ones to own the label American. They felt they should be called American too. I chewed on this for a while. Then it hit me one day as I entered Mexico. Bienvenidos a Estados Unidos Mexicanos said the sign. Welcome to the United Mexican States. Therefore people born there are Mexicans. And North Americans. And if you were born in Canada (official name is Canada - I googled it), then you are Canadian and North American. I was born in the United States of America so I am American and North American. Earth shattering news, right?

And my friend from Honduras? I have news for him. He was born in the Republic of Honduras. He is Honduran and Central American (and Catracho because Hondurans are called that for some reason and, no, I haven't bothered googling it yet). If he were born just a few miles away in Belize, he would have been Belizean and Central American. But today I will label him Butthead because he is stubborn as all can get out. I like to get the last word and so I will say to my Honduran friend AKA Butthead.... "I am American and you are not. Nahhhh." (tongue sticking out).

But it doesn't mean I am better than you. Nor does it mean you are better than me because you are not American.

Article from The Monitor about my Reynosa experiences

2011-10-19T21:18:00.000-05:00

I'm using the last minute of my 15 minutes of fame by self-promoting the article about my Reynosa experiences. It was in The Monitor, McAllen, Texas last Sunday.

Texas DMV (Department of Motherf@#$ing Vampires)

2011-10-18T21:45:00.002-05:00

I've been told that 2 major job requirements to work for the Texas DMV are one must pass a bitch test (both male and females) and pass a class on crabby-face making.

I recently purchased a 1999 Mercury Sable with a registration in Texas that expired a year ago. Not a problem in Iowa. I would just have to pay the registration to current, pay taxes, and get my registration transferred to my name. Yesterday I went to the Texas DMV where they promptly rejected my application, confiscated the title, stated the title was bad, and gave me two phone numbers to call. WTF? Before leaving the building, because I knew that nothing could ever be done by phone, I called the numbers. No answer to both of them. Marching back to the desk of the confiscator and using my soft voice, I politely pointed out that no one answered and asked what should I do? Feeling the steely eyes bearing down on me, she gave me an address where I may go to find a fraud investigator. Are you kidding me? Holding up the line because I refuse to move until I am satisfied with the explanation as to what is wrong with the title, the woman lost patience and pointed to the empty space where a date should have been filled in..... TWO OWNERS AGO!!!!! I should have seen this coming. Back when I registered my old truck, I was given grief because the title was missing the dealer's ID. That time I went out to the parking lot, made up a number, took it back in, was given more grief because THREE owners ago did not sign off the title using his middle initial. After several consultations, paper shuffling, hemming and hawing, they went ahead, probably against their better judgment, and registered my truck. Not this time. I would have gone to the parking lot and filled in the date EXCEPT they took away my title and gave me a photocopy. They're on to me.

Off to another location (about 10 miles away) for fraud investigations I went to be informed that I could bring in the original offender and have them correct it. Pointing out that it was 2 owners ago who didn't fill in the date and that the state of Texas had registered it even after the omission fell on deaf ears. My other option (and this is where it gets complicated) is to pay $40 for a fraud investigation, fill out a bunch of forms, go to yet another location about 10 miles away, fill out more forms, get a rejection letter, go to my insurance office and purchase insurance for a bond, wait several days for the bond, and then go back to the same office of the fraud investigators. Make sure to bring license, proof of insurance, and current state of Texas inspection sticker. All for a missing date.

I paid the bloodsuckers because my only other option is to make it a yard decoration. For $40 a man with a gun but no uniform (because car fraud investigations is a dangerous job) came out to the vehicle and looked at my door, the VIN, and glanced at the motor for a second. That's it. Next stop 10 miles away is another DMV office where a sourpuss face woman shoved more forms at me and then shuffled papers for about a half hour pointing with her 10 inch nails information that I must fill in. Some of the questions were weird like "Was the vehicle manufactured for the United States?" Uh, gee, I guess so. Sourpuss told me that I must answer yes or no. My favorite question, and I quote, "Address of where vehicle is currently located." I ask Sourpuss if should use the DMV address because that is where it is currently located. Sourpuss looks grim as she informs me that I should not be driving a vehicle without plates. Really? No response from Sourpuss when I asked her if the fraud investigator with gun makes house calls. Finally the paper shuffling is finished and she tapped the stack of papers to line up for stapling. AHA! Finished at last. But, wait. NO! She actually got the staple remover, removed the freaking staple, retapped everything to make SURE that the edges lined up perfectly, and restapled them. Then told me to have a GOOD DAY. I got even with her. I stole her pen.

Last stop was my insurance company to request a bond. It will take a few days, but these people are nice. Hopefully, by the end of the week I will have everything I need for registration. Hopefully, I will remember to take my tranquility pills with a couple shots of tequila before I go. If I get booked for DUI, you'll know why.

Sam (April 27, 1992 - October 6, 2011)

2011-10-12T10:18:00.000-05:00

I remember the day you adopted us. It was a fairly nice October day in 1992. We were holding a funeral service for Barky, the hamster, under the big oak tree by the creek in our back yard in Iowa. You showed up unannounced and did figure-eights around our legs as we laid Barky to rest. You followed us home like a puppy dog. You hung out on the front steps for three days eating the tuna the kids left for you. On the third day while I was cooking I saw a four-legged gray creature stroll across the kitchen floor. I yelled at the top of my lungs (kids’ bedroom was upstairs), “Hey, what’s this cat doing in the house?” Eric, then 6 years old, declared it was too cold outside and he begged to let kitty in. Uh, yeah, too late kid, you already did. It was a cold, raw, rainy day just before Halloween. How could I say no? It just took an open door and you were home. For the next 19 years.

I remember the days when you played Nintendo batting your paws to get at Mario and Luigi. You earned many nicknames. Mr. Sam Katze, Sammy, Samuel, Chester Cheeto, and my favorite, Samuel Satan Kitty. My sister Lynn gave you the last name because of the time you bit her on the ankle. I know you were pissed because we dared to go on vacation without you and left you home alone with Lynn tending to your needs. The name Chester Cheeto came from another time we went on vacation and Brian left a bowl of Cheetos in his room. We came home to piles of orange remnants all over the carpet from the Cheetos you consumed. You really did like people and didn’t like being left alone. Whenever the doorbell rang you were there to greet the company.

Speaking of your favorite foods, besides tuna, how about all the cornbread you consumed? Phil brilliantly thought he could cover the cornbread with saran wrap and keep your nose out of the pan. HA! You sure showed him over and over again that saran wrap was no challenge to keep you out of that delicious treat. How about the times I caught you stealing chicken wings and the kids’ pancake breakfast off the table? Oh, yes, we went around and around about you being on the counters. I could hear you slinking about the counters, yell from the other room, and hear you plop your butt down. I tried all the tricks to keep you off. Squirt guns, upside-down mouse traps covered with newspapers, sprays. Nothing worked. Even in your old age you still had the agility to hop up and look around for something delicious to eat.

We all thought you would live forever. We noticed the weight loss a few months ago but you had a good appetite until a few days ago. You knew it was time to go. I still wake up in the morning thinking I better get up and hand deliver your breakfast. After 19 years it is hard to change the routine. But you are in heaven now and we will all be together again some day. I hope God doesn’t mind you jumping up on his kitchen counters, eating cornbread and Cheetos, and stealing pancakes and chicken wings.

Hmmmm. Something To Think About

2011-10-02T15:23:00.005-05:00

The following is an anonymous comment posted on Borderland Beat about Texas as a combat zone in the narco-wars.

Why can't the US get the money the smugglers are charging? $5000 sounds like a good fee to come and work. Allow them to come for 18 months if they can pass a background check, give them a temp tax number that they have to pay into if they want to come back, we can offer them temp drivers license for work, we know where they are, and if they don't go home you floor the shit out of them.

I would be interested in knowing what the general America public thinks of this?

Riding Mexican Style

2011-09-24T12:08:00.001-05:00

I really wanted to post a photo of the man I saw outside the OXXO with his underwear on the outside of his pants, but my conscience got the better of me.

So, instead, here's a recent photo of public transportation, Mexican style. I assume the the guard rails serve as well as seat belts.

P.S. The black & white photos are just to show you all how artistic I am, or the fact that I somehow changed my camera to take b&w photos and don't know how to change it back.

Too Much Alcohol = Bad Decisions

2011-09-23T07:11:00.002-05:00

Here's a newsworthy item. It turns out that I know I make bad decisions when I drink, but I just couldn't give a shit. So that time when I fell off the wagon back in '95 (and I mean literally I fell off the wagon), I can't blame it on the alcohol. I really think it was the fault of the man with the chainsaw.

SIP and SIMON

2011-09-19T12:21:00.000-05:00

**Warning** Cover the children's and dog's ears because some of the following language may be unsuitable for them.

I've been expanding my university learned Spanish vocabulary for about 3 years now. And by expanding I mean the language that is used every day on the streets. For example:

University Spanish - Hola. ¿Como esta usted?

Street Spanish - Hey! Que onda guey!

In these years I've learned a fair amount of typical "chavo" or guy speak. Chingado (chingada for the ladies) means fucker, not to be confused with "cogelon" ( again, cogelona for the ladies) which means one who likes to fuck. I've learned that "huevon" means lazy ass and "que pedo?" literally means "what fart?" but actually translates better as "what's going on?" A "chela" is a cold beer. My personal favorite is "cabron" which literally means goat but being called a goat in Spanish must be insulting. Try calling someone a goat in English and they'll look at you kind of strange unless you add "old" because that's what my grandma used to called Grandpa, deservedly, I might add. I could go on and on about the finer points of the more colorful Spanish language but there are websites already dedicated for that purpose here and here.

So I would like to know how I managed miss something as simple as "sip" and "simon" for 3 years? It's only been lately that I hear "seeeeep" and "seeeeeee-moan" all the time. I finally figured out the saying "sip" is like saying "yup" and "simon" is like saying "yeah, man". Do Spanish speakers say "nop" for no?

Speaking of the word "no" reminds me of a story that happened in the Czech Republic, where I have by my last estimation about 2000 Czech cousins. I knew that the word ANO means yes in Czech, and a completely different meaning in Spanish (anus), but the Czechs shorten to it just 'NO. Watching a couple of Czech speaking cousins have a conversation while one repeatedly says "no, no, no, no" while nodding their head up and down in agreement totally boggles my mind. Try it! It will mess with your mind.

What it all boils down to is yeah, yup, sip, simon, 'no, ano, all equal YES. Sip? 'No? OK, YEAH!

Blogs Are Bad For Your Health

2011-09-15T17:35:00.000-05:00

You probably shouldn't read my blog any more. It could be bad for your health.

Vinnie's Happy Teeth

2011-09-12T23:02:00.000-05:00

Hate going to the dentist? Don't worry, your teeth will be happy after a couple drinks at Vinnie's place in Progreso, Mexico. Just don't drool in my drink and, hopefully, I won't in yours.

The Iowa I-80 Song

2011-08-26T19:39:00.003-05:00

Check out this out if you would like to see a short video of my recent trip to my home state of Iowa.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyeY0hWU28I

I feel it is my duty to educate the people here in Southern Texas and Reynosa about how to eat corn from Iowa. We DO NOT put anything but butter and salt on our corn. A little pepper (optional) is also permissible. We DO NOT allow mayonnaise, chile, or cheese. We also DO NOT allow guacamole as this young man slathered on my most excellent Iowa corn. After I took his photo, I took him outside and had him hanged from the tallest tree which around here is about 5 feet. Thank goodness he isn't too short or I would be in jail although I believe I would have gotten off for justifiable homicide.

Redneck Iowa Hunts Illegal Immigrants

2011-08-12T18:08:00.000-05:00

If there is one thing I don't like about Iowa, it must be the rednecks. I'm not talking about the good ol' boys. I kind of like them. I have several cousins of the farming, hunting, fishing sort who love their trucks. They're all right. I'm talking about the narrow-minded, clueless idiots. And none of my cousins slap stickers on their trucks especially like this one.

I found this bumper sticker for sale at Terrible's gas station next to the casino in southwest Iowa right next to the anti-Obama stickers. Behind it was the chewing tobacco case where the woman with multiple tattoos and piercings was standing. Kind of goes hand in hand, I guess. When the man working there asked me why I took a photo, I told him in a quiet and low voice, "I was going to buy a pop, but now I am too disgusted." And I quietly left the store. Too bad it was already after I bought my gas.

Food A La Potosina

2011-08-10T01:31:00.000-05:00

Bocoles, carnitas, frijoles, flan, salsa toreador, chilaquiles, menudo, budin azteca, huevos a la mexicana, huevos con chorizo, papas, lasagna (OK, that one, which I made, is not technically in the food of San Luis Potosi category).tamales, nopales, arroz, pollo mole, topped off by a McDonalds sundae = I AM ON A FRIGGIN' DIET

Toilet Ladies

2011-08-04T15:46:00.000-05:00

I found the Toilet Ladies to go with the Toilet Horsemen in San Luis Potosi. Ride 'em cowboy. Yee haw.

116 Degrees But It Is Only 110 In The Shade and Update About My Breakup With Boyfriend Gregg

2011-08-03T09:25:00.002-05:00

Who is crazier? Me, who lived in Reynosa, or these guys playing golf in Tulsa, Oklahoma when it is 116 degrees? The good news is it was only 110 by 8 o'clock in the evening... in the shade. The bad news is they are predicting it will be even hotter today.

And now for the latest news about my budding romance with boyfriend Gregg Anderson who was born at Utah.

Rita Gervais

Are you married? Do you have children? I have 2 sons but I would like to have more children some day.
Rita's note: I almost choked when I wrote the line "I would like to have more children". But in the interest of good investigative journalism, I had to lie.
Gregg Anderson
- Hi Rita, I am not married and I am looking forward to starting something wonderful with you, something that can last forever and I do not have kids and don't mind more kids though am ready to take your kids as the blood of my blood and the flesh of my flesh. How are you and how is your Sunday going? I am really looking forward to getting to meet you and pass time together and I want something that would last forever and someone we can grow old together. Where are the kids presently and what are your interests? Looking forward to hear from you soon.
  Gregg Anderson
  Hi Rita, Please find time to read my email to you on your G mail in-box as I have been shy to come out straight but I opened up and expressed myself to you in the poems I sent you on there. Thinking about having more kids, I don't think I would like you to go through the pains of labor considering your age. I just want our happiness together and want us to be a mirror of Christ to the world and grow old together.Really cant wait to meet and chat with you. Yours forever, Gregg
  
  Rita's note: I think he just called me OLD so this romance is off to a good start. I looked for the poems because you all know I am a sap for such lovey dovey stuff, but I couldn't find them.
  
  Rita Gervais
  How did you find me? I've been praying to find someone who will accept me and love me even though I suffer from polydactyly (extra fingers and toes) and strabismus (crossed eyes). I am a widow but my husband had a very good insurance policy so I don't have to work.
  
  Gregg Anderson
  On your blogpage
  
  I wonder if he has figured this out yet. Stay tuned for more updates.
  
  UPDATE:
  Gregg has broken up with me. You have to read the comments to see how he feels. My heart is broken, but we're still facebook friends. He did leave me this parting shot on an instant message...
  "All I wanted was just true love and someone to be happy with forever and I thank God that he revealed what you were made up of to me through my cousin"

More Weird Emails

2011-07-29T13:15:00.001-05:00

I had this friend request on Facebook from this dude for a while. I was thinking he might be someone from high school. I remember the night of graduation whispering to my seat mates, ¨Who the hell is that?¨ We only had close to 500 in our graduating class and there were several people who walked the stage to receive their diplomas that I did not recognize. Yes, this was in Iowa I say to the skeptics who don´t believe there are more than 500 people in the entire state. So I checked out the profile to discover there was very little information about this guy. He is self employed, born in 1961, has a total of 3 friends, and says this about himself...¨I am a gentle and easy going man, someone who knows what he wants and is very straight forward. I love worshiping the Lord and winning souls for him.¨ There is one photo of him fishing on a boat. So ya´ll are thinking, ¨Yeah, right.¨ Well, me too. I didn´t accept him as a friend right away. I was waiting to see what his wall might say. He seemed new to Facebook and I thought I would just do the wait and see approach. About a week ago, I accidentally accepted his friendship (yes, it was accidental!) and I´ve gotten a flood of weird emails since then. No biggie. I am getting used to them.

ºººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººº
Gregg Anderson

Hi Rita, how are you doing?
H iRita, Thanks for the friendship invite acceptance , could you add me up on yahoo so we could get to talk and know more about each other? I am really looking forward to know you more and hopefully get along with you. Stay blessed and I hope to talk soon. Gregg

Rita´s note: Seriously, who says ¨friendship invite acceptance¨and ¨stay blessed¨ unless they are from some other country let´s say like NIGERIA? Or Germany? I would prefer to pick on the French. Ok, folks, read on.

Rita

Where are you from?

Gregg Anderson

Hi Rita, i am from Utah and I would like to get to know you more and hopefully even meet for us to get along. Are you a Christian? what are your interests and when are you normally online? I look forward to chatting with you soon. Do have a blessed night with sweet dreams. You are on my mind and in my prayers. Gregg

Gregg AndersonI

Hi Rita, How are you and how has your day been? Did you get my previous emails? I hope you are doing good, I have been waiting to hear from you. Could you please write me to let me know you are okay and doing fine? Gregg...

Rita Gervais

I am working on my dissertation focusing on linguistic features of African English. Due to the spread of English to so many parts of the world which was triggered during the colonial era and by migration of English-speaking people, the importance of English not only as a language of commerce by swindling, but also as an international language of communication has been realized.

Gregg Anderson

Hi Rita, how are the boys doing and how did your evening go yesterday? I was hoping we could talk last night but guess we missed each other online. I would like you to send me some pictures of you and the kids and also let me know when we can talk.Looking forward to talk with you soon, have a blessed night with sweet dreams. Gregg..

Gregg Anderson

Hi Rita, I have your thoughts on my mind and just find it difficult to catch some sleep since i got up. I wrote you on your email sometimes back and never got a response from you. Could you please write me? mine is gregganderson45@yahoo.com and don't forget the pictures aiight. Want you to know you are always on my mind and in my thoughts. Really can't wait to talk with you and i hope we can figure out getting to talk soon.Sleep tight with sweet dreams. Gregg..

ºººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººººº

How long should I keep playing with this dude?

Weird Emails

2011-07-28T17:16:00.000-05:00

I´ve had the same email address since the beginning of gmail time. I got to pick what I wanted with my first name, middle initial, and first letter of my last name. Since I´ve had this email address for years, it is plastered all over the internet on my facebook, blog, genealogy sites, and probably in dozens of other places I don´t even remember. So why all the sudden am I getting a rash of weird emails? I just posted on my blog an email I received about orange stunt scooter that I ordered, in Euros I might add, and then the follow up email telling me my credit card information was no good and would I please click on the link and fill in all my credit card information. I still haven´t received the scooter.

I still get a lot of emails in the form of the famous Nigerian scams about a rich widow needing help getting her 38.72 million dollars out of her corrupt country. I still haven´t been able to collect on any of the millions owed to me for helping. Besides the emails trying to give me millions of dollars, here are a few others that I have received recently.

I had been getting emails about how I need to bring my BMW for servicing and take a survey about my new car from a dealership in Macon, GA. After several attempts of getting me off the list, I called their number and told them I was not happy with their service and could I please talk to the owner. I think they put the sales manager on the line and I repeated that I was not happy. I told him I could not take their surveys or bring my BMW in for servicing because I hadn´t received my car yet. He took my name and number and said he would get back to me. Never heard back. Never got another email. I still haven´t received my BMW.

Here´s one I got this morning. Using my excellent linguistic skills, I didn´t think it is a scam but I replied nonetheless asking Ms. Nielsen to please ask the Nigerians to deposit the money owed to me in my account. She did reply stating, in English, stating ¨sorry, this message was not for you.¨
Hej Rita

I skulle fremover få alle kontoudskrifter via Jeres netbank. (Noget, du har mailet til Jane om.) Med venlig hilsen
Helle Dahm Nielsen
Danske Bank
Seest Afdeling
Telefon +45 45 12 13 50
hdn@danskebank.dk
http://www.danskebank.dk/

Also, this morning I received 2 emails about the hard drive I ordered from Novatech. This email looks legit except for two things... I did not order a hard drive and my name, the last I knew, is not Mr. Alix Dafar, the person to whom hard drive was being ¨despatched¨. (I checked online and despatch is one of those British deviant words like colour and favourite) What is interesting is the followup email spells it dispatch and gives me a tracking number for Parcelforce. I still haven´t been told that my credit card is no good and could I please click on their link and put all of my personal information on their handy little form so they can bilk me out of thousands of dollars before I catch on I´ve been scammed.

Another email list from which I can not be removed is about politics..... in Argentina. I have enough trouble following politics in my own country. I´ll be dog-gonned if I will follow the politicians of Argentina. Marcos Fiori, if you read this, I may be calling the press and telling them about our years long love affair. About as many years as I have been on your emailing list. The one you refuse to remove me from .

Of course, there´s all kinds of emails I receive from friends and family, especially the joke passers. I don´t mind an occasional joke, especially if it is a good one. But, geez, I know some people who will send me like 30 a day. I hope Mom isn´t reading this.

Walmart San Luis Potosi

2011-07-27T17:30:00.001-05:00

Walmart SLP does not have:

1. Blocks of mozarella cheese. They do have little bags of mozarella cheese at $48 pesos each ($4.20 USD)

2. Ricotta cheese.
3. Any bra larger than a C cup.

Walmart SLP does have:

1. A Samsung LED 40" TV for sale for only $13,990.00 pesos which is about $1217 USD. Sounds bad enough in pesos but over a grand for a TV of this size???? Seriously?

2. Lasagna noodles (not precooked) that fall apart when boiled.
3. Pot roast, but only 1 was available weighing .8 kilos (about 2 pounds) and cost $208.50 pesos which my handy dandy calculator tells me is $18. That wouldn't feed me and my folks let alone the average Mexican family.

Overall I am not impressed with Walmart SLP. I prefer shopping at the local mom and pop shop located on every block and I'll just eat Mexican food. Except menudo.

Toilet Horsemen

2011-07-22T18:36:00.000-05:00

Ladies, in case you ever see this on a bathroom door, you might not want to enter. Who knows what goes on behind closed doors where there are Toilet Horsemen?

OSHA Recordables in San Luis Potosi

2011-07-22T18:26:00.001-05:00

One should never bite the hand that feeds you, but...

This is a shop that creates uniforms for schools and I needed to go to the bathroom. First I trekked down the path between machines with moving parts. Then carefully tiptoed up the stairs bypassing the broken step. The bathroom is now at the opposite end of the building so I hugged the wall and walked sideways so I wouldn´t fall through the big gaping holes in the floor. You can see my foot by one of the gaping holes.

And to flush the toilet? I had to stick my hand inside the tank and pull the plunger up. Sorry, no photos for that one folks.

A Nigerman Email

2011-07-20T19:18:00.000-05:00

Apparently I ordered something from Hockeyoffice.com and, darn, my credit card is no good. So, of course, I followed the directions of this following email. I hope whatever I ordered arrives soon. I will be waiting impatiently by my mailbox. I highlighted in red my favorite parts for ya´ll to enjoy.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
fromHockeyzentrale TEAM info@hockeyzentrale.de

toritamg@gmail.com

dateTue, Jul 19, 2011 at 1:56 AM
subjectyour order 60825
mailed-byhockeyzentrale.de
Important mainly because of the people in the conversation.

Dear Customer,
Unfortunatelly, your payment with the creditcard didn't work.
Please notice that we don't accept any debit card. We just accept Visa or Mastercard.
Please do the payment again by using the follwing link:
http://www.hockeyoffice.com/pay/cc/60825
or pay by using another payment method. We also offer cash on delivery (we will charge an
extra postage of EUR 14,00) or pay in advance and transfer the money to our bank account.

Account owner: Image Sport & Event GmbH
Account number: 499811
Bank code number: 25050180
Bank: Sparkasse Hannover
IBAN: DE45250501800000499811, BIC: SPKHDE2H or SPKHDE2HXXX

Another way ist the payment with paypal. In this case you have to transfer the money to:
In this case you transfer to:
paypal@hockeyoffice.com

Please visit www.paypal.com for more information
We will send the ordered items as soon as we received the money.

Best regards,
Hockeyoffice.com

Diese EMAILS bearbeiten ein TEAM bitte beachten Sie das sie den Mailverkehr
immer drin lassen! Damit wir die Kommunikation sehen können.
Hockeyzentrale.de Die Nr.1 im Inlinehockey

Image Sport & Event GmbH
Rendsburger Straße 14-16
D-30659 Hannover

Outrageous - Woman Attacked By Dogs, Police Refuse To Charge Owner

2011-07-03T20:17:00.001-05:00

A woman was attacked by the neighbor's 2 pitbulls in her own yard and will have scars for the rest of her life. Yet, incredible as it may seem, the McAllen police refuse to press charges as the woman wished. What does it take to have the dog owner charged? Her death? And I thought the police in Mexico were worthless. Now I will have to add the McAllen Police Department to that list. I'm sure this woman has had a dozen lawyers contact her by now to sue the neighbor. An irresponsible pet owner needs to be taught a lesson and a woman needs to be compensated for her injuries and permanent scars. Just for the record, I do not know this woman or the neighbor. I'm just an outraged viewer of local news and couldn't believe it when the police did nothing. Please read the following story and tell me if you are as dumbfounded by the police's response as I am.

http://www.krgv.com/news/local/story/Woman-Attacked-By-Dogs-Cant-Press-Charges/yCaDNulliEW92wO2A9pBwg.cspx

How To Give Your Cat A Pill

2011-06-29T00:00:00.003-05:00

I took Sammy to the vet last Saturday. He's been meowing like crazy especially at night so I googled what might be the cause. One of causes could be he is wanting to check out the neighborhood lady cat. He's been neutered for 18 of his 19 years and even if he wasn't neutered, I think he would need Viagra for cats at his age.

From the Odor Destroyer website: Excessive meowing and your cat’s health

When cats get old, they may meow more because they’re disoriented, confused, or feeling needy. Some old cats may meow excessively. This usually happens when they begin to lose their cognitive functions. If they’re meowing more loudly than they used to, they could be losing their hearing and be unable to hear themselves as well at their normal volume. If your cat’s excessive meowing is possibly because of a health problem, take your cat to a veterinarian to have your cat checked for any problems.

Basically, he is either going senile or has some health related problem. Senile cats? My mom seems to think so because he is chasing things that aren't there. He seemed to be eating and sleeping enough and the sandbox is always needing to be cleaned. So off to the vet we went. Sammy has always weighed 10.5 pounds his entire life. What a shock I got when he weighed in only at 8.8 pounds. How could I not notice the weight loss? He goes back next Monday for a checkup. The cost? $30 including medicine because his vet is in Reynosa. For many things, the cost of living is not cheaper in Mexico. But, thank goodness, the vet isn't one of them. Every time I took him to the vet in Iowa, it was a $100 dollars. I think his Iowa vet's cash register is stuck on $100 because that's what everything costs at his place. Mr. Reynosa Vet said his teeth are in bad condition and gave me pills to shove down his throat and a paste to stuff in his mouth. Sammy has always been fed the Science Diet but now I am supplementing it with soft food twice a day. I remember getting a joke a few years ago about giving a cat a pill so I searched the archives of my email. I pasted it here for you all to enjoy what I've experienced this week.

HOW TO GIVE YOUR CAT A PILL
IN TWENTY EASY STEPS

Sit on sofa. Pick up cat and cradle it in the crook of your elbow as though you were going to give a bottle to a baby. Talk softly to it.

With right hand, position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat's mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. (be patient) As cat opens mouth pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow. Drop pill into mouth. Let go of cat, noticing the direction it runs.

Pick the pill up off the floor and go get the cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process. Sit on floor in kitchen, wrap arm around cat as before, drop pill in mouth. Let go of cat, noticing the direction it runs.

Retrieve cat from bedroom, and throw soggy pill away. Scoot across floor to pick up pill, and go find the cat. Bring it back into the kitchen. Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten. Drop pill into mouth.

Pry claws from back legs out of your arm. Go get the cat, pick up half-dissolved pill from floor and drop it into garbage can.

Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of closet. Call spouse from backyard. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, hold front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously.

Retrieve cat from curtain rod, get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered Doulton figures from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.

Get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.

Check label to make sure pill not harmful to humans, drink glass of water to take taste away. Apply Band-Aid to spouse's forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.

Retrieve cat from neighbor's shed. Get another pill. Place cat in cupboard and close door onto neck to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with rubber band.

Fetch screwdriver from garage and put door back on hinges. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus shot. Throw T-shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom.

Call fire department to retrieve cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take another pill from foil wrap.

Tie cat's front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table, find heavy duty pruning gloves from shed, force cat's mouth open with small spanner. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Hold head vertically and pour one cup of water down throat to wash pill down.

Get spouse to drive you to the emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call at furniture shop on way home to order new table.

Get last pill from bottle. Go into bathroom and get a fluffy towel. Stay in the bathroom with the cat, and close the door.

Sit on bathroom floor, wrap towel around kitty, leaving only his head exposed. Cradle kitty in the crook of your arm, and pick up pill off of counter.

Retrieve cat from top of shower door (you didn't know that cats can jump 5 feet straight up in the air, did you?), and wrap towel around it a little tighter, making sure its paws can't come out this time. With fingers at either side of its jaw, pry it open and pop pill into mouth. Quickly close mouth (his, not yours).

Sit on floor with cat in your lap, stroking it under the chin and talking gently to it for at least a half hour, while the pill dissolves.

Unwrap towel, open bathroom door. Wash off scratches in warm soapy water, comb your hair, and go find something to occupy your time for 7-1/2 hours.

Arrange for SPCA to get cat and call local pet shop to see if they have any hamsters.

Wanna Buy My Ferrari?

2011-06-27T00:10:00.004-05:00

On the way to work Friday morning (which really sucked, by the way, cuz when I arrived I was stuck in a 4 hour BORING meeting all in Spanish so that's why I wrote this blog on a piece of paper to make it look like I was taking notes but I got this cool piece of paper that says I concluded the program), I saw a truck with a big red chicken decal on the back window. No words. Nothing to explain why the owner placed a big red chicken on his truck. Inquiring minds want to know.

Some car decals make sense. A very popular one is a tribute to some loved one who has died including their name, dates, and epitaph like "En las manos de dios" which means "In the hands of God". Some are silly like the boy from Calvin & Hobbes peeing. I've read in the newspapers that the Mexican drug cartels use decals like John Deere to identify each other. Sorta puts a whole new meaning in John Deere's slogan, "Nothing runs like a Deere." The latest trend is to sticker up the car, SUV, truck, and maybe even the John Deere tractor with Ferrari decals. This I don't get. Do they believe they'll fool me into thinking their Dodge truck is a Ferrari? Well, if that works, I'm fixin' to slap a bunch of Ferrari stickers on my old pickup truck. Maybe I can fool someone into buying it.

Big News Day

2011-06-22T23:10:00.001-05:00

I can't decide which is bigger news to lead in the big news day so I will start in order in which things happened.

Mexican soldiers are taking over police duties in Reynosa. I saw them today. The soldiers are fashionably dressed in black and riding around in municipal police trucks. I'll have to check with my sources to see if the Vista Hermosa neighborhood and its drug cartel members are still being guarded by members of the new police force. I'll also check if the infamous drug corner is still paying out members of the police force to remain in business. Maybe I'll drop in to the local municipal police substation to find out if the police commander is still ~~extorting~~ requesting donations to pay for his daughter's quinceañera. Er, nope, on second thought I'll scratch that last one off the list.

And the other big news today is it rained the first time since September. I was confused at first when I saw wet stuff falling from the sky. Long term memory recall took over and I remembered that it was called rain. Buckets of rain. I thought that the ground would be so parched it would suck it up faster than it came down. Nope. Even the earth around us forgot what to do with rain and the water just sat there in giant lakes all over the valley. Our school yard became the school swimming pool. The evil plan I had concocted was foiled by the rain. Today was the last day of school for students and I bought a bunch of candy for bingo prizes. I planned to sugar-up the kids and send them home to their parents to drive them crazy. Muahahahahahaha. My plan backfired when the thunderstorm rolled in and the electricity was cut off at 1 PM for the rest of the afternoon. Without electronic gadgetry or even sufficient light to play board games it was tough to keep the sugar-filled kids from bouncing off walls. I was ready to send them out to the swimming pool while it was thundering and lightning. I created my own monster but I survived another day to make it back to Reynosa tomorrow. Unless the former police commander is out looking for me.

If They Were Bald, They'd Look Like Mr. Clean

2011-06-19T15:29:00.000-05:00

Every morning I see a group of middle school boys walking to school (not my school) in Reynosa wearing all white. White shirt, white pants, white belt, and white shoes. Not just Mondays when all schools in Mexico have Honors (flag parading and patriot song singing like our Pledge of Allegiance and singing Star Spangled Banner) They wear this uniform Monday through Friday. Now I'm thinking like a mother, not a teacher. What sadistic school official came up with the brilliant idea for boys to wear all white school uniforms? Obviously not anyone who ever raised boys.

An Impala Up My Wazoo

2011-06-15T21:45:00.000-05:00

I was at a stoplight in Edinburg this afternoon and got rear ended hard. The truck, which shall be known from now on as "The Tank", didn't have a scratch. Unbelievable. The Impala that hit me had a pretty messed up bumper from my hitch. However, the impact made me hit a big 'ol unmarked Expedition. I didn't realize I had hit a deputy until he climbed out his SUV in uniform and badge. So there I was sandwiched between two vehicles and I felt an electric shock in the middle of my back. Now there is an Edinburg Police Dept. report AND a County of Hidalgo report. By my estimation, 3 Edinburg cop cars, 3 deputy cars, and one ambulance showed up for the small fender bender. My back is bit hurt, but I am taking pain meds. I'm woozy as I write this. Slurred speech, glassy eyes, and the inability to hold two thoughts together makes it, well, only slightly less than normal for me, right? I'll proofread this tomorrow just to see how goofy I am tonight. Everyone was really nice and the guilty party was wearing a rosary, called me ma'am, and has insurance. The deputies and cops were very kind and efficient. Thank God it happened on the Texas side. I don't even want to think about what would have happened on the other side.

Buy It or It Will Be Blown UP

2011-06-10T17:36:00.002-05:00

1998 Ford F150, V8, POS with no extended cab. Has 157,000 miles. Uses a lot of gas and oil. All scratches, dents, and rust included for free. Left front tire needs air filling about once a month. I'm guessing it needs a new temperature gauge or something because when I sit on the bridge too long it will overheat. It is fine as long as the truck is in forward motion. Has a temperamental starter so it was rebuilt today. Also has a fairly new switch and door lock due to some thieving creep who tried to steal it in Reynosa. No key for passenger door due to the original and only key was broke off inside the switch because a good Samaritan tried to help me out when truck was broken into in Reynosa. The heater doesn't work so it can be frigid driving in the winter. It does have new brake pads in front and the rotors were turned recently because it was going WUMP WUMP WUMP every time I applied the brakes. Also has a fairly new battery because it refused to start one icy morning in February.

Still interested? Why?

Celebrating 100

2011-05-29T23:47:00.001-05:00

100 times I've posted on my blog. I should celebrate. It doesn't usually take much for me to celebrate. On Talk Like a Pirate Day, I celebrated at the local pub while saying witty things like, "Aye, mateys! Arghhh!" Just as long as the beer is cold I am happy.

So here it is. My 100th post. And it is a sign that is in Hidalgo, Texas, just short of the Mexican border. Yes, I am concerned about the devastation caused by oil spills so don't be sending me hate mail accusing me of being an environmental-unfriendly insensitive boob. What I find odd about this billboard is it is located in an area where probably more than 50% of the folks do not read English. And of the 50% that might be able to read English, I wonder how many of them have lain awake at night with worry? Can I call the hotline to report that I feel devastated because it never occurred to me that I should feel so bad that I need to call them? More than once I've been tempted to call the hotline just to ask if this billboard was strategically placed in this location to repair the tarnished, oily image of BP.

Saturday Morning Cowboy Movies

2011-05-21T12:17:00.003-05:00

My sisters Deana, Lynn, and I have discussed what a traumatic childhood we all had. While growing up, to get us out of the house, so the mother could have peace and quiet, Dad was ~~politely asked~~ compelled to take us to the movies. Of course, as soon as we jumped into the car sans seat belts we began begging to see the latest Disney flick as Mother had told him to do. Dad was kind of the silent sort so he didn't say much. This was back in the day when the 4-5 movie theaters in town only had one movie playing at a time, not like the mega-theaters of today. So we would pull up to the theater only to see the marquee blazing with titles like "The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean" with Paul Newman, "Patton" with George C. Scott, "High Plains Drifter" with Clint Eastwood, or "The Cowboys" with John Wayne. Back in the day, my mother didn't think these movies were appropriate for the 3-13 year old set. Especially since we came home quoting lines.

Stuttering Boy Wilson: Son-of-a-bitch.
Wil Andersen (John Wayne): What did you say?
Stuttering Boy Wilson: You god-damned son-of-a-bitch!
Wil Andersen: Say that again.
Stuttering Boy Wilson: You god-damned, mean, son-of-a-bitch!
Wil Andersen: Say it faster.
Stuttering Boy Wilson: You god-damned, mean, dirty, son-of-a-bitch!
Wil Andersen: I wouldn't make it a habit of calling me that, son.

Soldier: Where ya goin', General?
Patton: Berlin. I'm going to personally shoot that paper-hangin' sonofabitch.

Now with the magic of satellite television, I can re-enjoy these flicks every Saturday morning on AMC channel. And I do. Every Saturday morning. With Dad parked on his recliner. And me on the love seat.

3 Wise Monkeys

2011-05-18T23:26:00.002-05:00

I know what a certain municipal police officer was doing at a certain notorious corner in a certain part of Reynosa around 6:30 this evening. He was with the drug selling dudes that are present at this corner 24/7. I watched the money being exchanged and the bags of drugs being stuffed back into pockets. Geez, you'd think he would at least have driven an undercover car instead of a fully marked black and white unit with the cherries on top. When my truck was broken into and almost stolen, I was asked if I called the police. What for? They are too busy taking care of their business to bother with serving and protecting the good people of Reynosa. I thought about taking a photo but then the thinking side of my brain took over. He's got a gun. Probably knows how to use it too. Who knows what kind of weaponry the drug dudes have?

I wish I could be like 3 Wise Monkeys. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Too late

Something Nice to Say About Mexico

2011-05-14T11:20:00.000-05:00

I doubt I'll ever be completely reformed, but I do have something nice to say about Mexico.

SAN LUIS POTOSI

I've been around a few places in Mexico.

1. The state of Durango. I had a good time in John Wayne cowboy country but did see a couple weird things to me. More boots and hat shops for men than shoe stores for women. I witnessed some strange rodeo thing. Someone once told me the name for it, but I forget what it was. Basically the cowboy on the horse chases a medium sized bull and grabs the tail to make it fall. Kind of cruel, I think. When the bull falls, the band plays. No falling bull, the band remains silent. And it goes on all day. For hours.

2. Mexico City. I've been there many, many times. I like it. It is huge. I swear I will never drive in that city. OK, I did once. But I had a GPS telling me where to go and how to do it so it doesn't count. The pyramids are totally cool. So was drinking with Kathy in a bar as the only Americans, plugging the jukebox with English songs, and singing at the top of our lungs.

3. Monterrey. Another nice city. I still haven't made it up to the Cola de Caballo. Some day.

4. Oaxtepec in Morelos. Spent a few days at a spa. Who wouldn't like a spa?

5. Acapulco. I went with my sons. It is always a good time at Carlos 'n Charlies restaurant and bar. It was the first time I was ever able to cut loose with my adult sons and not be the MOM.

But now I have a new favorite place in Mexico. San Luis Potosi is an old colonial town. I knew nothing about this place before I went for 3 days in April. Wow! It is beautiful. Here are some of the highlights:

1. Went to prison. The old prison has been turned into a Center for the Arts. It is amazing how they have restored the prison. It is next to the old aqueduct that brought water from the mountains.
2. Mona Lisa restaurant in the center. The food was so delicious. I overate. Gotta stop that.
3. Artwork at the basilica.
4. The sound and light show for Easter at the Cathedral. It was different. You might think you were tripping on LSD with the way they coordinate photo images with the architectural features of the church complete with music. But it was awesome.
5. La presa AKA the dam. I've never seen a dam like this. Beautiful and good exercise walking around too.
6. Parque Tanga Manga. It is a huge and beautiful park. With bicycle riders and joggers. And things to do!

What else is excellent? I hardly saw any dogs in the street. Everything looked so clean. And hardly any potholes in the roads. People can actually go out and walk for exercise, unlike Reynosa. I like a city of this size. Not mega-huge like Mexico City but big enough to have good stores. Thank you so much Jose Eduardo and family. I will be going back because there is so much I haven't explored yet. I can't wait!

100 Ways to Die

2011-05-14T10:03:00.002-05:00

I stumbled across this website Top 100 Ways to Die while reading a favorite website The Darwin Awards. To those of you not familiar with the latter, in order to make the grade you have to die in some spectacularly dumb fashion or at least not be able to contribute to the gene pool of society. I guess I have a warped sense of humor. My favorite on the Top 100 is No. 81, the balanced diet. The food pyramid is pointy and dangerous. Just ask my son Eric. He claims that fruits and vegetables are what "food" eats.

Recently on Children's Day we took all of primary students to the movie theater. (We don't have this holiday in the USA because we all know that everyday is children's day.) During the commercials before the movie, one ad warned about dengue fever and how to stop the transmission. Don't leave tires around your home to collect standing pools of rainwater to make breeding grounds for mosquitoes assuming that it will rain here some day. It hasn't in months. And since I have never been warned of dengue fever on the Texas side, I am assuming the Rio Grande River must provide some sort of barrier to prevent the transmission.

During the movie I slipped out to the bathroom where there was a huge poster warning me about cholera. The sign says make sure that fish and seafood are cooked well. It should warn DON'T DRINK THE WATER IN MEXICO but then anyone with a half a brain knows that. Mom is always warning me not to eat anything in Mexico that wasn't heated to a 1000 degrees I'd like to see a Darwin Award given to an idiot, like me, who has dared to consume fresh fruits and vegetables. I'm living dangerously.

Easter Traditions

2011-04-25T01:22:00.000-05:00

I was reminded that it is Easter when last night I turned on the television and ABC was running the Cecil B DeMille epic movie "The Ten Commandments". Traditionally it was always shown on a Sunday night. I know that for a fact because my son Eric would always watch it every year staying up way past his school night bedtime and I allowed it. Wouldn't I be a horrible mother if I didn't let my son watch Moses help free his people from the evil Pharaoh Ramses? The cynic in me would normally think the son was just trying to stay up past his bedtime, but the boy did stay glued to the tube to watch the movie to the end... year after year. So it shall be written, so it shall be down.

Niece and nephews on an Easter egg hunt in Iowa today

Speaking of Easter traditions, our traditions in Iowa included coloring hard boiled eggs and then eating deviled eggs and potato salad for the next week. We always used crayons to decorate before coloring. I did this with my 5th grade students on the last day of school before our vacation. When I polled the students, only about 3 out of 27 had ever colored eggs. And of those 3 they had never heard of using crayons to decorate before dipping in the dye. I may have started a new tradition with my students because they had a blast and many asked where I got the supplies. Walmart, of course. And an Easter in Iowa would not be complete without getting a chocolate bunny. I always felt sorry for the poor bunny as I started nibbling off its ears and butt. Apparently, not too sorry as the bunny was always a goner by the end of the day.

One of the gazillion roadside stands selling Easter stuff in Tex-Mex Land.

Traditions down here in the Tex-Mex area are different. Why color Easter eggs when you can buy them by the dozens on the roadside about every 10 feet? Except the eggs are not hardboiled. They are emptied and filled with confetti. The first year I was here I went home with a headache after my students found out I had never had a confetti egg cracked over my head. The kids smelled "fresh meat" and I had about a 1000 cracked over my head that day. As many confetti eggs I've seen for sale this past week, I imagine the confetti will be littering the countryside until the 4th of July. Also, Easter bunny piñatas are big here. I have never been to an Easter party here but I imagine they beat the poor paper-mache bunny to death so the kids can collide while grabbing the candy that falls out of the bunny's butt. Does it seem strange to anyone to string up the Easter bunny and then beat it to death with a stick? Or Dora, the Explorer, a Superhero or a princess that so many piñatas are modeled after? Seems rather sadistic to me. I guess one could argue that eating cute chocolate bunnies is sadistic too.

Excuse me while I go eat my bunny.

Ice Cream and Bacon Sundae

2011-04-16T23:57:00.000-05:00

The latest menu item at Dennys is an ice cream and bacon sundae with maple syrup. It must be delicious, I guess.

Best Pickup Line Ever

2011-04-16T23:51:00.000-05:00

Best pickup line ever... "Would you like to come back to my place? I've got clean sheets."

Yes, I personally heard it. No, it wasn't directed at me. But, (snicker, snicker) that line was sooo memorable. My friend Linda, a teacher from Canada living in Reynosa, and I went to a bar in Texas one night. We met a couple retired gentlemen. A few days later we went out for pizza. All was going well until the end of the evening when Linda's date actually dropped that line on her. Needless to say, we hightailed it back to Reynosa where I seriously doubt any retired, single gentleman could ever offer Linda clean sheets. I drank a beer with Linda a few days ago and we reminisced about that evening. I still don't understand why she turned that offer down.

Parlez vous francais?

2011-04-13T22:11:00.001-05:00

For about a month I've seen several motor homes and travel trailers all with Quebec license plates rolling up to the border of Texas from Mexico. Sometimes they travel in caravans. Sometimes solo. Apparently the Québécoise never received the travel warnings about Mexico like the Americans did. The Americans are staying away in droves. Hardly any are even willing to cross over into Progreso, the touristy little village on the border with a pharmacy and dentist every two feet. Perhaps the travel warnings about Mexico are over zealous? Perhaps the Mexican road patrol trolls could not care less about the French Canadians just like the rest of the world? Or maybe the Mexicans won't bother with them because of their direct rudeness and arrogant demeanor spoken in a warped version of the French language? I vote for reason #3. Therefore, I am going to try responding with very bad French every morning the Mexican soldiers stop me as they have done every single morning this week. Maybe they will usher me away faster so I will not be late for work.

Signed Rita (Au Contraire) Gervais

Bridge Bumper Cars

2011-03-30T22:01:00.000-05:00

I had a friend who once told me she didn't want to get on my bad side. Well, Mr. Driver Dickhead of a transport van on the Anzalduas International Bridge, you got on my bad side. The left side. Where there was no lane. What made you think you could forge your own lane and then try to bump me out of the lane I was sitting in for at least 10 minutes? And then you throw your hands at me like it was my fault? Congratulations, Mr. Dickhead, you made it on my revenge list. Since I wasn't in a big hurry to get home, I told the border patrol agent that you hit me. It was obvious because I've got black smudges on my truck where your right mirror was pushed in. Both of our cars were flagged and we had to pull over. If you had apologized, I would have let it go. The damage wasn't that bad. I have an old truck. It's got marks and dings. But nooooooo, Mr. Dickhead claimed it was my fault because I didn't move over and let him in. Hey, buddy, I had no where to move and I waited in line for my turn. I didn't come barreling past the cars behind me in an unauthorized lane. The border patrol agent asked me if he should call the police to make a report. Darn right! It only took the police 30 minutes to arrive and about another 30 minutes to make a report. So that means the people sitting inside your transport van had to wait all because you were in a big-ass hurry and tried to cut into my lane illegally.

I might let it go at that. It's probably not worth pursuing any further. The police report won't be ready for 3-5 days and then I have to contact my insurance company to contact Mr. Dickhead's insurance company. Here are the pictures of the truck. I would like to hear the opinion of all in Bloggerland who read this. Should I take this to the Supreme Court on principle? Or just grumble and let it go?

Weird Mexican Candy

2011-03-27T23:11:00.002-05:00

Being a teacher, I've gotten my share of birthday invitation treat bags filled with candy. Most of it is weird to me. In one I received a plastic spoon with some sort of sticky substance covered in chili powder. Found out later it was tamarindo, whatever that may be. I didn't eat it. I didn't try it. I didn't want to and I still don't. I swear that these kids will put chili powder on anything. Pizza, fruit, chocolate...

In the same bag with the sticky spoon, I got something that looked like a freezie, a slushie-like juice that has been frozen in a long plastic wrapping. Except it wasn't frozen. Out of curiousity I opened it. It was a jello-like

substance but my bet is it contained more than extracted collagen from ground up bones of pigs and cows. I didn't eat it. I didn't try it. I didn't want to and I still don't.

But here is the weirdest of all. Tia Cuka Instant Gum. Below the Instant Gum it says ready in 3 minutes with chicken. I've never heard of gum that needed 3 minutes to be ready. That doesn't seem very instant to me. I will take my instant gum without chicken, thank you very much. By the way, I didn't chew it. I didn't want to and I still don't.

How The Term "Flying Dryback" Now Replaces The Ethnic Slur "Wetback"

2011-03-23T23:16:00.001-05:00

I don't normally blog about my students other than in general terms, but this is just too funny not to make a comment. Next week we are having a science fair and all primary students have to come up with a project that is testable by using the scientific method. One student's proposal is inventive, to say the least. I shall call this student "Jay". In this process, the students need to ask a question. Paraphrasing Jay's question, this student wants to know how one can pass to the USA illegally without getting wet crossing the Rio Grande River.

The question piqued my interest. The plan is to "invent a computer algorithm to cross the river without getting wet." Jay plans to build a model catapult to demonstrate. Jay wraps up the research by stating... My hypothesis is we can throw someone to the USA across the Bravo River (Rio Grande) and land in something soft like a bed in a precise location and change the term of wetback for the better one of "flying dryback".

Stay tuned folks. I'm dying to see how this will turn out.

UPDATE on the flying dryback story: Although Jay's premise was good, I'm afraid his hypothesis, data anaylsis, and conclusion were lacking so he didn't win the competition. But he did build a model catapult and attached it to his 3-fold display board which he demonstrated by flinging plastic people towards a target. For creativity, he got the maximum in points. I expect great things to come from this student.

Mexican Balls

2011-03-21T03:10:00.001-05:00

As of lately I don't normally disrupt my peaceful weekends by going to Reynos-hell, but I do have several friends there and I do like to see them sometimes. So that is how I found myself on the Pharr bridge today coming back to Texas. I hate to cross on Sundays because the traffic is worse on weekends. As I am sitting in line for an hour with my window down, the man one lane over started a conversation with me. He appeared kind of cute so I let the conversation inch on as our cars slowly rolled to the checkpoint. The conversation was abruptly terminated when his lane was coned and I passed on through. (Gee, it seems like it is usually me that gets stuck in the coned lane). About a mile down the road, I stopped for gas and bathroom break. When I returned to my truck, I found this man waiting by my truck. Wow! He followed me. Should I have been creeped out or impressed? Well, here is my initial breakdown:

1. His name is Victor, an electro-mechanical engineer from Rio Bravo. Good, so far, because he has an education. And, hopefully, a job too.
2. He is driving a decent car with Mexican plates and has a visa to enter the United States.
3. Speaks some English although I think my Spanish is better.
4. He is kind of cute.
5. He told me I am pretty.

After introductions and getting to know basic facts, he invited me to go somewhere to talk. I told him there is a place called Cafe Junction in the center of Pharr and we agreed to meet there. At the cafe, he confesses that he is married, but has no children. Should he get any points for being honest? I told him there is no point in going farther because I was not interested in anyone who is married. He actually had the nerve to ask if it was that big of a deal??

Here comes the big Mexican balls part. He pinned me against my truck and tried to plant a kiss on me. Eeewww, eewwww eeewwwww! And the final breakdown:

1. He smelled like smoke.
2. He is married.
3. He tried to stuff his tongue down my throat while pinning me up against the truck.

Victor, since I don't have your phone number and you don't have mine, let's make this public and perfectly clear... I WILL NOT SEE YOU AGAIN.

Uniformity

2011-03-15T23:08:00.000-05:00

I don't mind wearing a uniform to work. It takes the guesswork out of what to wear. I wake up at 5 AM and after the shower I don't need to stand in front of the closet wondering if it is appropriate to wear a leopard print spandex jumpsuit... if I had one. But ya'll know what I mean. I don't have to find something appropriate to wear because it has already been picked out for me. Monday is Honor's Day so we all wear our white shirts with the school logo. Each day of the week is color-coded.

Mexico doesn't have a corner on the market for requiring employees to wear a uniform. My sister is a nurse and you won't find her wearing a leopard print spandex jumpsuit to work. But I do say that Mexico takes the uniformity to the nth degree. The other day all the teachers were standing outside for a group photo in our Thursday's striped shirt. We were lined up according to height so you know I was pushed to the back and we had to clasp our hands together. Standing with terminal smiles on our faces, the whole picture taking process was stopped because I had my hands clasped in the wrong direction. Heaven forbid if I were to stand out because my hands were grasped together with left over right especially since I am no where near the front due to my giganormous 5'8" stature.

http://www.viestiphoto.com/

All students in Mexico must wear uniforms including all government and private schools. They look like Catholic school uniforms as you can see on the left. (These are not our school uniforms. I borrowed the photo from the Google images.) However, some of the staff take it to the nth degree on enforcing rules. Students have been pulled out from playing at recess because their shirt is not tucked in. Oh, please! Recently I've seen a rash of written reports where students lose grade points and parents must sign because students are wearing a wrong shirt on the wrong day. Or they have a black stripe on their shoes when they are suppose to be pure white. Or the hair accessory isn't pure white. What would happen if a student showed up with black nails and purple hair? It would be total chaos and all order in the universe would cease to exist.

A Bullet By Any Other Name Wouldn't Kill As Sweet

2011-03-12T22:07:00.005-06:00

I had completely forgotten about this bullet that I had found on the streets of Reynosa over a year ago. At the time we didn't have daily shootouts. It seemed a little odd to find a bullet on the street, so I shoved it in some basket at home and promptly forgot about it. Until today. I was cleaning out and repacking all my junk that I brought home from Reynosa when I ran across it. I'm not exactly a bullet expert but it seemed a little odd looking to me. I stuffed it in my pocket and then went out to dinner with the folks where we met a good friend of mine named BG. He looked at the bullet and said it was a Winchester S&W Black Talon hollow point bullet. When it hits the flesh it makes a small hole and then expands and rotates until it exits the size of a baseball. Yikes! By the way, BG does not stand for 'bad guy'. Those are his real initials and he is a good guy but why does he know so much about bullets? He is a native Texan so I don't need to explain more, do I?

Now I'm wondering if I should be concerned about a potential dangerous projectile sitting on the shelf next to my perfume. I started to do a little research on the internet. Wikipedia site was full of big words some of which I understand (expansion, penetration), some I don't (hydrostatic shock). And here is a little chart on this website where the only thing I get from it is brain injury is possible or probable.

Thank goodness for Mythbuster's episode about exploding bullets. They can explain scientific things to me in language I can understand. Basically, when it comes to bullet safety, I shouldn't put a bullet in the oven and bake it like a pie. I probably shouldn't throw it on the campfire and roast it like a weenie either, but, according to Mythbusters, it probably wouldn't be lethal. Maybe I should get rid of the bullet. It is possible that if I am too dense to understand the Wikipedia technical mumbo jumbo I might be tempted to bake a Winchester S&W Black Talon hollow point bullet pie some night when fueled by a few rounds of tequila.

I'm Sure They Are Plotting Some Sort Of Revenge.

2011-03-05T16:00:00.000-06:00

Daisy, Minnie and Sam

It's not too often I catch all 3 together. I think they are plotting something to take me down all because I dared to groom them. Their looks show exactly how much they appreciated my efforts. Especially the one in the middle with the demon eyes. Miss Minnie normally jumps on my bed for love and attention. Today after the bath she jumped on my bed and growled at me. And the Sam Cat is telling me where to go and how to do it. Miss Daisy, normally the affable one, won't even look at me.

I wonder what my fate will be? While they put their diabolical plan together to eliminate me at least they will look and smell good with trimmed hair and toenails.

The Commute

2011-02-28T22:58:00.004-06:00

Some of you people out there in Bloggerland noticed my blog change to I Was Crazy For Living In Reynosa. I haven't spent a night there since February 10. I didn't want to go into details because I was afraid of word getting out to my students. It's amazing that I don't care if they see some groseros (4-letter words), but I didn't want them to know I was leaving. Not that I've told my students about my blog or I that I am Facebook friends with any current students, but you know how electronically savvy kids are, right?

Anyone familiar with my blog or me personally know that I've have been wanting to divorce myself from Reynosa. Too many gun battles, narco-blockades, thieves like Edward Cadena, transito and police. The last incident was the final straw. Two weeks I gave the school my resignation to be effective February 28. I've been commuting from Texas since then.

Advantages:
1. House with central heat and air conditioning.
2. Insulated walls and windows.
3. My own bathroom with hot water that regularly flows not only in the bathtub, but the sink as well! And, yes, I said BATHTUB.
4. A fully equipped kitchen that actually has cabinets and counters with a real refrigerator and an oven that has Fahrenheit temperature (not 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
5. My truck is locked behind a secure gate.
6. I've never heard people shooting at each other.

Disadvantages:
1. It takes one hour to drive to the school.
2. It takes 1.5 - 2 hours to drive home (bridge wait time and the traffic is heavier)
3. $75 a week in gas (more now that gas has jumped .30 a gallon).
4. $25 a week for tolls on bridge.

So I go to the office today to turn in my grades and tell them, "Hey, it's been great working with ya'll."

Silence (insert crickets chirping here)

Apparently my resignation wasn't taken seriously even though I explained it was not cost or time effective to commute from Texas every day. The director pulled himself together and said he would go talk to the owner. Less than half hour later as I was cleaning out my desk, it was decided that I would be reimbursed for gas and bridge fees until they can find a replacement for me.

So the commute continues... for a while anyway. And now ya'll know the rest of the story.

UPDATE on The Party Is Over Reynos-hell

2011-02-09T00:20:00.003-06:00

While I sat waiting for a tow truck tonight because some fucking asshole tried to steal my old, beat-up truck at the Periferico Mall in Reynos-hell and fucked up the lock on the door and really fucked up the starter, I got to hear gunshots and witness cars, trucks, and police cars tear through the parking lot in pursuit.

I'm in Texas now.

UPDATE: The truck is in the shop on the Texas side. When it is all said and done with repairs and lost time at work, I will lose about $500. And for what? The asshole didn't even steal the truck even though when he got through with it he could have started it with a screwdriver. I guess I should consider myself lucky that the truck wasn't stolen.

Freezing Ass, Bone Chilling Cold

2011-02-04T10:26:00.003-06:00

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

I'm cold. Under 3 blankets with 2 space heaters. I looked at electric blankets in Texas a couple weeks ago in Texas. I thought to myself I won't use it when I come back to Texas permanently so I didn't buy one. I am paying for it now.

I woke up this morning and looked outside. Everything was covered in a sheet of ice. This is not the norm here. My old pickup truck has no heat and, therefore, no defrost. So the other foreign teacher, Mr. Hardcore I'm Never Late or Miss a Day of Work, went to school by taxi this morning and sent me a txt. Basically, no one is there. I would head for Texas but according to the news reports, all the highways that I need to take are closed.

Yesterday I wrote on Facebook all about how only 2 of 26 students showed up for school even though our school has heat. They're a bunch of wimps (24 of them anyway). When I was a kid in order to get to school I had to walk 5 miles in 6 feet of snow uphill... both ways. And the story got bigger when Mr. Hardcore Teacher souped it up by claiming I did this barefoot and had to step in fresh cow pies to warm up my feet. The kids were in awe until one smarty asked, "Miss, if you walked uphill to school wouldn't you be going downhill on the way home?" I thought kids were suppose to believe everything their teachers shoveled at them???

Harlequin novel, version 2011

2011-02-04T09:00:00.000-06:00

He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear.

"Just relax."

Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat.

I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.

Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to
my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and
expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A
man not used to taking ‘No’ for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say . . . ..

"Okay ma'am, you can board your flight now."

RIP Nancy Shuman Davis

2011-01-29T11:36:00.000-06:00

I extend my sympathies to the family of Nancy Shuman Davis. For those who haven't heard her name on the national news recently, she was killed by a bullet to the head yesterday south of Reynosa in a community called San Fernando. She was a missionary for 40 years with her husband to help out the poor in Mexico. She and her husband were driving on a highway near San Fernando just south of Reynosa when a group tried to stop them probably to steal their truck. They ran the roadblock and were chased with bullets and had their truck rammed. The husband sped towards the border to take Nancy to the hospital where she died. That's the way it is here in parts of Tamaulipas.

I've read a few of the comments people have posted about her death. Many have blasted them for driving a 2008 Chevy truck in an area known for a lot of highjackings. Another claimed they should have stopped and given up the truck. One cynic even pointed out that the husband drove more than 70 miles without stopping for help so the husband probably killed the wife. However, by all accounts, this couple devoted their life to helping others in Mexico. It is OK to think it, but, geez, people, do you have to publicly comment where family and friends may read it? When a loved one is lost, it hurts. A lot. I should know. I lost my beautiful, baby sister Lynn in a car accident almost a year ago. The horrific photos of her car under the school bus planted all over the newspaper along with photos of people holding sheets while they removed her body from the car were bad enough. Many newspapers no longer allow comments on such news reports because of the hurtful comments. And for good reason. Some idiot posted, "Was the phone call worth it?", implying that my sister was on her cell phone when the accident happened. Even if it were true, is it really necessary to say it like that?

And just for the record, my sister was not talking or texting. The deputy got the records from the cell phone company and proved that the phone wasn't even on before the accident occurred. One small vindication, but it doesn't bring my sister back.

RIP Nancy Shuman Davis
RIP David Hartley
RIP Don Alejo Garza Tamez
RIP Lynn Mota

Going Postal on the Municipal Police Commander in Reynosa

2011-01-24T01:06:00.001-06:00

I can't believe I did it.

I was helping out a friend named Wil to move a few things with my truck today when I was stopped by the municipal police. Usually it is the blood-sucking transito (traffic cop), not the municipal police, that stop and request a donation. I've donated once in Mexico City and once in Reynosa. It's a way of life here. I pulled over and Mr. Policeman requested my papers for the truck. I hadn't been driving fast or committed any other infraction and he wasn't the transito so I was hoping it was just some sort of routine check. I gave him my registration, insurance card, license, passport and my school ID card. I informed him I was a TEACHER since teachers are usually held in high esteem in Mexico and I hoped that would make him go away. Then he asked Wil for his ID which he produced. The cop should have said, "Have a nice day" and let's us go on our way. But NOOOOOOOOOOO. He said we would have to follow him to the police station. At this point, (grumble, grumble) I am still OK and so I followed Mr. Officer to the station. When we arrived, he took Wil into the commander's office and wouldn't allow me in. I stood there a while wondering what is going on when the original officer asked me where do I live and who do I live with? I smiled and pretended to not understand while thinking, "That's none of your f'ing business especially since I've done nothing wrong."

So I waited and waited and finally I poked my head in the door. I was informed by my friend that the commander told him the cop followed us from the hotel and decided to check us out.

"WHAT????" with mouth opened wide in surprise. "What hotel?" Not that I would really know, the only thing along this area are flea-bag motels that are rented in 4 hour intervals. After a few more "What hotel?" I went postal on his ass. All in English. It might have been better if Mr. Commander did speak English because my rant went something like this....

"What fucking hotel did this cop follow us from? We weren't in any fucking hotel! If I wanted to bonk this guy, I would have done it in my own bed on my clean sheets! Not in some flea-bag, crack hotel where sheets are changed every 30 days whether they need it or not. I've showed you all my papers and everything is in order. This is incredibly STUPID."

Photo from Borderland Beat to show example of narco-blockade - not my photo.

Mr. Commander glared at me and I glared back. So I called someone from the school to help with the translations. The friend did verify that I was a teacher (I guess my school ID wasn't good enough) and told the commander where I lived. We were allowed to leave the police station but not without a parting shot from Mr. Commander about how I need to show respect. This is part where the breath was sucked in slowly. In a voice that was a little more controlled than before, I stared at Mr. Commander straight in the eye and told him, "Whatever."

I found out later that in deciphering the English haze that just hit him, he thought I called him stupid. And calling someone ESTUPIDO in Mexico is a capital offense.

If you thought this would be the end of the story, you thought wrong.

So we barely left the police station and right in front of us was a narco-blockade. The narcos highjack large transportation type vehicles and place them sideways across the road so all traffic stops. Today they used a big touring bus (like a Greyhound) and an old school bus that now serves as public transportation. There were several other vehicles helping to block all passages. This happens so that the gun battle may begin and no traffic can get through. Wil told me to turn around quick which I did. We found another route and arrived close to the center of town when we discovered all the bridges across the canal were narco-blockaded. I didn't know which way to turn and Wil is yelling at me to turn around but in the confusion I ran through another blockade. Apparently they had run out of big buses and were using passenger trucks. I whipped around one and Wil yelled at me to go to Linda's house that is only 2 blocks away. Luckily Linda was home and I hid out there for an hour monitoring the Twitter feeds to find out when all was clear. Twitter is just about our only news source in Reynosa since nothing is reported on the news.

I'm tired. I've got more gray hair and more wrinkles. I've promised everyone that this will be my last year in Reynosa. Even though I've been called a liar about the negative things I've written about, I swear to God it is the truth. My imagination isn't good enough to make this shit up if I tried.

I'm Dangerous and Must Be Deleted

2011-01-20T22:28:00.001-06:00

If you don't like my bitching, you better stop reading. What can I say? It's one of the things I do so well.

After all the crap that happened to me in October and November, I pretty much had it with living in Reynosa. And then I received an invitation to look at a website called Mexico Online (www.mexicoonline.com) and so I did. There was a question being asked about feeling safe in Mexico. I replied no and qualified it by saying I lived in Reynosa, and wrote about some of things I've witnessed and my friends have seen. Oh, boy, did I open a can of worms. I was called a bad mother because I allowed my adult sons to visit me and they got to witness a gun battle. I was called a liar because nothing bad happens in Mexico and it is statistically safer than the United States. I was actually told I should be writing about how safe it is in Mexico. When I wrote an email to the moderator about how he was too judgmental for calling me a bad mother, he responded by deleting my account. Apparently Mexico Online only wants to hear the rosy and wonderful things about living or visiting Mexico. It advertises itself as the place for people who live and work in Mexico but I found out that only means if you have money and can afford to buy a home in places like Cabo San Lucas or San Miguel Allende. I do understand that bad press is bad for business and my bitching, as one member told me, is doing more damage to Mexico than the Cartel.

That's right folks, I'm more dangerous than the Cartel and I must be deleted.

Irony

2011-01-12T23:32:00.000-06:00

Irony - incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result.

That came straight from Merriam Webster himself. When I moved to Mexico from Iowa, I thought I would be warm all year. Except for one skiing excursion per year, I HATE cold weather. So tell me why I am freezing my ass off in thick socks, booties, sweatshirt and pants, under 3 blankets? That's because when the thermometer dips below 40 degrees (aka 4 degrees in Celsius), it is actually COLDER inside Mexican homes. I have not seen a Mexican home with central heat yet.

Ya'll northerners can feel sorry for me now. I'm fixin' to run for the border this weekend to find some heat... inside my parent's house.

Utensils - Mexican Style

2010-12-28T01:40:00.003-06:00

A few years ago I went to a BBQ cookout at a friend's house in Texas. She, along with most of her family, was born in Mexico and is now living in the states. Mexicans sure know how to season the carne (meat) and asar (grill) it to perfection. Along with the frijoles (beans) and arroz (rice) there was salsa (salsa) and pico de gallo (chopped up tomatos, onions, jalapenos, cilantro with lemon juice). Everything in parentheses are translations for my gringo and guero (Yankee and white) friends.

So I loaded up my plate and sat down to eat except I couldn't find a fork or knife. I asked my friend about utensils and she informed the me, the nitwit northern foreigner, that's what tortillas are for. Huh? Observe this, she says to me as she folds a tortilla in half and then rips into two pieces at first and then rips the half piece into two more pieces. Then with the same skill level as Asians eating pieces of rice with chopsticks, she used one piece of tortilla to scoop bits of meat, frijole, rice and salsa into another piece of tortilla to eat sans utensils. This ritual goes on until the plate is wiped clean. It looked easy enough so I gave it try. The tortilla tearing went OK but the scooping part didn't go so well. I ended up with a smear of beans and the meat fell out before it hit my mouth. Fast forwarding to present day I am proud to say that I can now use tortillas like utensils. Maybe not as good as my friend, but most of it gets in my mouth instead of my lap.

Now, if I can just get the hang of chopsticks.

Pochos

2010-12-12T23:24:00.001-06:00

The term pocho, as defined by the greatest source, Wikipedia, since the encyclopedias in your home that were sold by the door-to-door salesman:

A person of Mexican heritage who is assimilated and acts "American" (a "wannabe" American).
A Mexican-American who can speak little or no Spanish.
An American who speaks Spanish and acts "Mexican" (a "wannabe" Mexican).
A person who frequently crosses the U.S.-Mexican border and feels at home on both sides of the border.

Today I was in Normal Land, also known as Texas, although some would say "thar ain't nuttin' normal 'bout Tuh-ex-us". Kind of hard to disagree with that one. Actually, Iowa is Normal Land to me. I'm not saying Iowa is the greatest place to be right now because the temperature is hovering around 0. That would be ZERO as in bone-freezing cold. But from now on, Iowa will be known as Normal Land and the Rio Grande Valley of Texas will be known as Pocho Land. The following is an actually conversation I heard this afternoon at Denny's between the waitress and the customer.

"Quieres los French fries?" asked the waitress.

"Si," replied the customer.

"Quieres los seasoned French fries?" questioned the waitress.

"Si," replied the customer again.

I've heard other conversations like this in the past. My dear friend Norma who I worked with at a school in Mission was talking to another teacher one day and the dialogue went something like this:

"Vamos a Walmart so we can comprar los zapatos," (Let's go to Walmart so we can buy shoes.)

No puedo. After school voy a llevar mija to soccer practice. (I can't. After school, I gotta take my daughter to soccer practice.)

And that is how 3/4 of the Valley speaks. Some would say they are bastardizing the Spanish language. Others would say they should learn to speak English correctly. I, personally, think Pocho Land is a unique blend between Mexican and American culture and as long as both parties understand each other, that is the most important thing. After all, the word Spanglish is listed in the Oxford English and the Merriam-Webster dictionaries so it must be a recognized form of language?

Excuse me. Tengo sueño. I am going to sleep porque estoy cansada. Good noche!

More Troops Have Arrived

2010-11-26T21:53:00.000-06:00

Written by E. Eduardo Castillo , AP, " Mexico will send more troops and federal police to try to control drug violence that has spiraled into warfare in parts of the northeast along the U.S. border, the government said Wednesday. The goal of "Coordinated Operation Northeast" is to reinforce government authority in the two states most heavily affected by a surge in violence following a split between the Gulf and Zetas drug gangs, federal police spokesman Alejandro Poire said."

Uh, yeah. They are here and all over the place. I am still working in Reynosa although I am no longer in my own apartment. I left school today with another teacher and the road leading from the school was blocked on both sides of Hidalgo Blvd by men in camouflage. They weren't driving military type cars. They were in black SUV's. I almost said soldiers but, let me tell you, not all dudes dressed like soldiers are really military personnel. We went to my teacher friend's home and he informed me that if the "transitos" aka traffic cops were not doing a checkpoint in his neighborhood, then the guys blocking the road were really soldiers. He was right... no checkpoint. Apparently these transito checkpointers are really the CDG (Cartel Del Golfo) guarding the drug lords' homes in the neighborhood. And when there is "activity" in the neighborhood, the CDG transito checkpoint guards hightail it to who-knows-where.

Like the proverbial bad penny, they will turn up again.

I've Had Enough!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-11-09T23:22:00.000-06:00

I think I need to put a few more exclamation points on my title.

Let's recap the past year's events.

1. Moved to Reynosa in August 2009 with a few pieces of furniture brought over in a few trips by my van.

2. Heard first balacera (gun battle) in November 2009. It was far enough away that it wasn't an immediate danger, but it was my first one so it freaked me out.

3. The war between the Zetas and the Gulf Cartel heated up in February 2010. For those who don't know the history of these groups, the Cartel is the one of the many gangs in Mexico that is responsible for getting drugs to the United States also known as the Land Where People Pay Big BUCKS to Get Their Fix. The Cartel used to be partnered with the gang called the Zetas. The Zetas are trained in military operations and are the enforcers. Then these two gangs that were in cahoots decided to declare war on each other. Add the Mexican Army to the mix and you've got a 3-way shootout. Some days I didn't have more than 3-4 students come to class because there was a threat that there would be violence at schools. Why the schools? Because where do the gangsters send their children to school? Private schools, of course! Other times the school would be disrupted because a gun battle would occur and parents panicked running to the schools to get their children. Of course, the teachers had to stay. We are expendable, apparently.

3. A fellow teacher (Mexican nationalilty) was kidnapped on the way home from his 2nd job teaching English at a business. He was forced to drive his car. At some point he decided if he was going to die, he was going to die trying to escape so he ran. He escaped but lost his car, cell phone and computer. His car and belongings are never seen again. He escaped with his life.

4. On a beautiful day in March 2010, I was eating dinner and watching TV when I hear "POW, POW" and automatic gunfire and grenades. I get on the computer to check Twitter, our only news source. This gun battle is about 6 blocks away near S-Mart. It is dangerous to be a journalist in Mexico and telling the truth is hazardous to the health. In this same month, 4 journalists are kidnapped in Reynosa. One was killed.

5. In the beginning of April 2010 , my sons came to visit me. We were getting ready to head to Mexico City when another gun battle erupted very near my home. My grown boys' eyes become as big a saucers. "Mom," said the youngest son, "you weren't joking about the shootings???" Pshaw.... like I'd make this stuff up for my sons' amusement.

6. In September 2010, although gun battles rage around the city over the next few months, I don't hear much. We moved to another home in the Mil Cumbres area, I was informed by Sergio that he had a gun pointed to his head and was told by the commandante to get out of the house. I had trouble believing it until I talk to the landlord. Apparently several other neighbors had received the same threat. I still don't get what the desired result was supposed to be????

7.. In late September, at 2:38 A.M. a gun battles raged behind our house. I could hear the bullets whizzing and grenades exploding. We cower between the bed and inside wall until we feel safe.

8. So we moved to a house that is out in the country, on a dirt-rutted road, full of bugs and broken windows. There were no working sinks. I had to turn on the shower to brush my teeth. I HATED this place. And then there was another gun battle just down the road. Yeah, this place was soooooooooo much safer.

9. Sergio and Angeles go back to Mexico City. I refused to stay in the horrible house. Last Saturday I am moving my furniture when a roadblock was created right before my eyes. Roadblocks are created by the bad guys by moving semi-trucks that they commandeered and place them sideways across the highways. Gun battles generally follow.

I've had ENOUGH!!!!

I've moved all stuff to Edinburg and I am doing a daily 3 hour commute to my job. I love the school where I am teaching. The staff has been great. I really love my students. They are the best. What am I to do?

One of my fellow teachers has offered me a room in his house. I can stay there Monday - Thursday night and head to Texas every weekend. I'll give it a try for a while. I would like to finish the school year, if possible. If not, I have to let it all go.

I hate Reynos-HELL

Memories of Lynn - UPDATE with photos

2010-10-28T20:23:00.002-05:00

Lynn's 3 best friends, Teresa, Amy and Deanna

There will be a memorial service this Saturday, October 30, 2010, for my sister Lynn. The tombstone with her photo was finally completed and placed on her grave. Photos will be coming. I wish I could go but I've been home to Iowa several times this year and it is expensive every time I go. So, instead, I've written something that I hope one of my family members will read.

Memories of Lynn

It's been 8 months and 6 days since the day we received news that you were no longer with us.

I take that back. You are with us every day in our hearts and our thoughts. Sometimes I pick up the phone and think, "I need to call Lynn." And then I remember. The phone call call would be super-long distance to the heavens. So if I can't call you, then I must go on memories to keep you with us.

Memory #1 - You were always an agile child. I remember one time when you fell asleep in the crib with your legs in the splits and your forehead planted on the mattress. Do you think you can still do that?

Memory #2 - I must apologize for making you yell bad words at Ronnie Rooks, the neighbor boy, when you were about 2 years old. But the look on your face was precious when Ronnie came running in the house and chased you down. Ronnie only meant to tease you. He was such a tease. But that was rotten of me. I'm sorry.

Memory #3 - Remember the time when you were about 8 years old and got caught stealing from the Hy Vee store? Luckily the manager knew the family and he told you to go home and have your parents call. Deana and I spent the day telling you how you were going to "get it" when Mom and Dad got home. You spent the whole day in nail-biting suspense of what was going to happen to you. I think that was punishment enough because I don't think you ever stole anything again in your life.

Memory #4 - Speaking of rotten older sisters, I have to make another apology. I'm sorry that Deana and I trained our dog Candy to attack you. You couldn't venture down the steps without the Maltese attack-dog ready to tear your socks apart. I don't think you owned a pair of socks without holes until sometime after your 18th birthday when the dog was finally too old and frail to attack.

Memory #5 - Pink. Your pink room, Your pink clothes. Your pink prom dress. I'm wearing your pink Iowa shirt as I write this. But you are much prettier in pink than me.

Memory #6 - The Rick Springfield poster on your closet door. And the New Kids on the Block doll. It was Joey, wasn't it? I teased your mercilessly about that. But you didn't care. You had learned how to handle the teasing after the Hy Vee incident and dog attacking years.

Memory #7 - The Square D years. For 10 years we worked together and I saw you every day. I'll never forget the day you pulled me into the broom closet and showed me a piece of paper that said you were pregnant. I told you, "You're going to be a mommy!" I was so happy for you because I knew what a great mom you would be. And I was right.

Memory #8 - Your awesome decorating skills. Your eye for color and putting things together in a room. I wonder where Andrew got that skill from?

Memory #9 - All I need to say is "Pee Wee Herman..... Ha, ha."

Memory #10 - Your wicked sense of humor. I've got to be careful with this one because I can't divulge too much, but I know about that "something bad" you confessed to doing last February. Don't worry. I won't tell and neither will the others.

Ten memories don't make a dent in the 40 years of memories I have of you. But I will keep writing about them so I can keep you with us forever. It was a sad day last February 24, but what would be even sadder is to forget you. I promise that will never happen. I love you, Lynnie, the Pooh.

Darwin's Theory of Evolution

2010-10-22T17:38:00.000-05:00

Well, I could talk about the new house that we were forced to move to. I could talk about how it is infested with bugs, and I have no kitchen. Or a railing on the stairs or upper landing. It's on a dirt road with ruts big enough to swallow cars whole. The dust is everywhere. And for the first week I had to turn on the shower to brush my teeth because there was no working sink in the house. But no one has threatened us and hopefully it is safer.

But I don't want to talk about that. Too depressing. So let's talk about Darwin's Theory of Evolution and how it relates to dogs in Mexico. If you believe in this theory instead of God as the Almighty creator of heaven and earth, then you believe in survival of the fittest. And it is only the fittest that survive in the dog and cat world of Mexico. You see, I was feeding Gordy, the skinny dog, until Moose, the fat dog, shoved Gordy out of the way and took over the food bowl. Gordy took his bony butt and wandered off. I tried to coax Gordy inside the gate so I could shut it and then he could eat in peace. But, nooooo, not even starvation could tempt Gordy to accept my charity. And then Moose figured out how to crawl under the gate and wait for her daily ration. I thought about taking Moose with me to the new house, but she shows too much food aggression to be around my Daisy Dog. And she is not starving.

Darwin, if you are correct, Mexico must be breeding a whole new race of super dogs. Your namby, pamby cousins north of the border wouldn't survive a day on the streets with their dog bowls with names, knitted sweaters, penchant for belly rubs and squeeky toys. And I won't be feeding any more street dogs.... unless they come in the house and kill a few bugs for me.

A Rude Awakening

2010-10-11T22:40:00.001-05:00

Last night I was sleeping peacefully when I got a rude awakening at 2:38 A.M. Gunshots. Grenades. Automatic weapons. I waited a few seconds just to make sure I was hearing what I was hearing before I nudged Sergio. Yup, it was battle somewhere behind our house, but it was really, really close. Sergio woke up Angeles and we huddled together between the bed and inside wall for about 20 minutes.

My family and my stateside friends have told me it is time to get out of Mexico and, definitely, get out of Reynosa. If it weren't for Sergio and Angeles, I would have been gone by last summer. What am I suppose to do? Abandon them? Thanks to the strict immigration laws of the USA, they do not have visas yet. We are working on getting the visas and we want to do everything legally.

I was reading an article yesterday afternoon about a reporter who is tired of interviewing victims. http://www.borderlandbeat.com/2010/10/tired-of-interviewing-victims.html
It sounds a little cold and callous at first, but he is on the mark. If you read my last blog, it was full of anger over being threatened. Although I am not thrilled about moving, I hope the new home is in a safer area where we won't be threatened, bullied or dodging bullets.

WTF???? We've Been Threatened

2010-10-08T18:49:00.001-05:00

I had a blog idea all lined up about food (again) in Mexico. It will have to wait because I am going to put the word out there in case I go missing, end up dead, or, to the least, get beaten to a pulp.

WE'VE BEEN THREATENED!

I am a little pissed about it. I should be scared, but, NOOOOOOO, I am pissed off. Here's the story...

On Wednesday, Sergio was home around 10 A.M. when someone came to the door claiming he was speaking for the comandante who, I think, is suppose to be the local head bad dude. Sergio told him we were renters, not the owners. The man said that our landlord is not the owner and we had until next week to get out or we would have a big problem.

WTF??? It's a good thing Sergio is much more diplomatic than I am. If it had been me, I know would have told this asshole to go fuck himself and given him directions on how to do it. And then I would be writing this from my grave right now, because I would be dead. A little morbid humor always helps lighten the situation, right?

When Sergio first told me the story, I thought, "Yeah, right." I mean, seriously, who goes around threatening people out of the homes? What is there to gain? Did the asshole want to extort money to let us stay? I wasn't there to hear the conversation, but I don't think the asshole asked for money. So what's the angle? Does the asshole think he can move his narco buddies into the house? So I talked to the landlord last night and, yes, I believe he is the owner. His parents live next door. He has the legal papers. He built the house. Maybe he owes the wrong people money? He told me that 3 other neighbors have received the same threats. When I told my story, I left out some details and when he told me the story about the neighbors, he filled in the same details that I knew but didn't tell him.

Now what do I think? Is this a real threat, or does the landlord want us out? I believe the landlord is telling the truth, but, then again, who knows? Or does the landlord owe the wrong people money? Or are the bad guys so desperate they are running around trying to threaten people out of their homes?

I just spent a shitload of money setting up this house and now I am suppose to move? All I gotta say is WTF?? And WTF am I suppose to do?

Gordy, the skinny street dog

2010-09-27T18:09:00.000-05:00

Gordy is too skinny. He got the name because of the Mexican penchant for giving nicknames that are opposite of a physical trait. Gordo is fat in Spanish so I named this street dog Gordy, an American name, because this dog also happens to be a guero or blonde.

Gordy's has a few scars, no doubt from a few street battles. But he doesn't even seem aggressive because as starving as he is, he allowed another dog to share his food yesterday. He won't let me near. He is wary. But he's always at my gate waiting for me to come home.

Did anybody love him when he was a puppy, but now they've forgotten to feed him?

Is this a sidewalk or a stairmaster workout?

2010-09-25T11:18:00.001-05:00

I had to start walking again even though this is a scary proposition in Reynosa. My CVI (chronic venous inflammation) is acting up again in my left leg so I need to get out and get my circulation going. The best way is to walk.

And getting around Reynosa is exercise. Just like the stairmaster at the gym.

Scary, Scary Mexican Clowns

2010-09-20T18:57:00.000-05:00

Mexico must really love clowns. Every comedy program on television has a clown. Maybe if I understood the language better, I would think they are funny. Instead I think they are lame.

Or scary. I swear every street corner in Reynosa has a clown. I think most of them woke up that morning and decided, "Hey, I know how I can make a few pesos. I'll dress myself up in a clownish way and beg for money."

One, in particular, scares me the most. He usually hangs out on the center in some mismatched dirty clothing, and a little white paint on the face with a red nose. The store where he hangs out is always playing some loud, thumping music so he kind of dances along with the noise. Actually to say "dancing" is too far fetched. He kind of squirms along with the noise.

Sparkles

I don't hate all clowns. Any child of the 1960's should remember Bozo the Clown. In my hometown I know of 2 local clowns. Sparkles the Clown makes awesome balloon figurines but he doesn't make a sound. That's because Sparkles is deaf. Literally. But the clown I really loved was Mombo. He was on the Dr. Max Show, a local children's program from the 1960's and 1970's on Channel 2 in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The show was awesome since it included Three Stooges, Bugs Bunny and all Looney Tunes, David and Goliath, and Gumby, We were out of school at 3:30 and parked in front of the television from 4 to 5. Any child of that era will recognize Mombo. I even had an autographed photo of Mombo that I received when my Bluebird group appeared on the show. Mombo was a foil for Dr. Max and always in trouble. But what I really loved was Mombo's magic tricks. Mombo's real name was Fred Petrick, a graduate of my alma mater, Coe College, and by all accounts a wonderful person. He died in 2001 at the age of 94. RIP Mombo.

Mombo

Anyway, the point is while I was growing up my clown contact was minimal. Sparkles, Mombo, Bozo and the occasional circus clowns. Here in Mexico one could have hours of clowning around daily whether it is on television, birthday parties, or just down the road at the next corner.

That's just too scary.

Thievery

2010-09-19T11:19:00.002-05:00

I'm fuming so it's a good time to post another blog, right? I had friends over on Friday night. I won't say who because all of them except one are innocent. I've had my share of rat bastard thieves like Eddie but this one really ticks me off because I thought these were my trusted friends.

I am missing a container with Bella Pierre makeup. Seriously, folks, who steals makeup? Apparently one of my friends didn't think I would miss it. This makeup belonged to my sister who is now deceased so it was special to me. No, I didn't misplace it. It's always in my makeup basket in the bathroom and goes right back after I use it.

It's a choice of one of the 5 women (or three men) who were in my house. Now I am suspicious of everyone that was here and that's not fair. Seven of them don't deserve to be clouded with suspicion, but that's what is going to happen whenever I see one of them.

Whoever stole it, I hope you go to hell along with Eddie (aka Edward Cadena, Edward Mendez Cadena, Edward Rhodes... I just wanted to make sure I get his name out there again so everyone knows he is a thief and no one should employ or trust this jerk.)

P.S. After rereading, I realized I need to add this post script. Many people know I have several gringa friends here in Reynosa who also write blogs. They were NOT at my house on Friday. I want to be clear about that!

Gunshots or Fireworks?

2010-09-16T10:37:00.000-05:00

Last night I went to a nice local bar inside a casino with a couple friends. We enjoyed a couple beers, the singer with the full band wrapped inside his synthesizer and later the mariachis. They were handing out free shots of tequila, free food, and I also received a nice hair clip in the flag colors.

When we were leaving and walking to the car, we all heard something like a gun shot. BOOM! And then another BOOM! Followed by another BOOM! My friends said, "Oh, God, they are shooting again." But the BOOMS were too rhythmic. Look up in the sky... It wasn't a bird. It wasn't an airplane. It wasn't Underdog. It was FIREWORKS.

It was nice to see celebrations instead of fighting. Viva Mexico!

Nicknames

2010-09-14T23:11:00.000-05:00

Mexicans love nicknames. Most of them don't resemble the given name. For instance, Paco or Pancho is a nickname for Francisco. But I never did understand how we English speakers get Bob from Robert. Here's a few others I've learned.

Lalo = Eduardo

Pepe = Jose

Nacho = Ignacio

Chuy = Jesus

Many nicknames are given for a person's characteristics. Some of them aren't flattering to us English speakers. How would you like someone calling you "Gordo" AKA "Fatty"? In Mexico, the recipient of this name is not insulted. A friend's 5-year-old son is called Gordo. The boy's real name is Carlos, but the poor child is on the chunky side. The politically correct side of my brain is telling me they are traumatizing this boy to a lifetime of teasing because he is too heavy. One of my friend's husband is called "Chino" which is "Chinese", but he is called Chino because of his curly hair. This makes absolutely no sense to me. When is the last time you've seen a Chinese person with curly hair? I've been called gringa (obviously), guera (white girl), gabacha (English speaking white woman) and, my personal favorite, bollila (white bread).

The only person I know that has no nickname is Sergio. I'm sure we could come up with one for him. Any ideas?

New House Photos

2010-09-01T20:15:00.000-05:00

The house is still a wreck but getting better day by day. Yes, I had kitchen cabinets when I moved. I still had to bring over a free standing cabinet because I've got too many gadgets.... not that I use them much. I am not a big time cook. It's like a rule... when women hit 50, they retire from cooking. My mom always cooked but gave it up for her 50th birthday. I must have hit 50 about 20 years ago.

I know it is amazing to find a home with cabinets in Mexico. Or toilet seats. Sergio had an apartment in Mexico City that had a kitchen sink and nothing else in the kitchen. Freaked me out the first time I saw it. And so did the toilet minus toilet seat. What's up with that? When people move, they take the toilet seat and cabinets with them?

Anybody have any ideas on what to do with the yard?? It's nothing but dirt.

Moving to a New House in Mexico

2010-08-31T00:05:00.001-05:00

I moved into a 3 bedroom house very close to the school where I teach. What an experience, I must say. It is a newly built wood-framed house with some recycled materials like the kitchen cabinets and the doors. Yes, I said wood-framed house, just like the United States. The part I really like is the windows are brand new with double panes. And they tilt in for cleaning, if I had the desire to clean them. I might... someday.

Here's a laundry list of things you do not get when moving into a new home in Mexico:

1. Stove
2. Refrigerator
3. Boiler
4. Closets
5. Curtains or blinds
6. Air conditioning

For item #1 just across the border in Texas is what I call "used appliance row". I bought a gas stove for $150 and Sergio installed a 45 kilo LP gas tank that he found for 700 pesos. The stove is awesome. It is full size unlike my other apartment's little stove. And the oven uses Fahrenheit degrees!!!! My old stove was labeled 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5 for the oven temperature which I never did get the hang of and it didn't work very well. Pizzas tasted like soggy cardboard so I did the Mexican thing and used the oven as storage. I baked cookies in my new stove just to test it and they were AWESOME. I can't wait to try a pizza. While I was at the "used appliance row", I bought a washing machine for $80. I hung clothes line around the palapa in the backyard. Oh, yes, I have a palapa in the backyard. How cool is that?

For item #2 Sergio's partner got a refrigerator from a school. It is an Amana side by side and it is huge. It needed a new compressor. So for $120 I have this super cool refrigerator (pun intended). At the old apartment I had an early 1970's vintage refrigerator that had been spray painted but all the rust was seeping through and when I moved in, I could tell it served as a roach motel. And the milk would last about 2 days before starting to become cottage cheese.

Item #3, the boiler. I hate cold showers. Everyone who knows me knows I hate cold showers. All my blog readers know I hate cold showers. I've bitched and moaned about cold showers because I had the world's suckiest boiler at the old apartment until the school finally decided I had bitched and moaned enough and installed a new boiler. Guess what? I am taking cold showers. And I am not liking it one little bit. I won't last until December. I won't last until October. I may not last until next week even though it is 100 degrees everyday and the water coming in isn't exactly cold because of the heat. Did I say I hate cold showers?

Item #4, the closets. I can not believe that an American-style house was built without closets. What's up with that? So I went to Home Depot and bought the brackets, poles and boards for a shelf on top of the brackets. It works.

Item #5, the lacking of window coverings is common in all new construction. No surprise there. I went to Walmart last weekend and bought 8 mini-blinds for (gasps in surprise) $3.96 each. They look great!

Item #6, the air conditioning. Even worse than having no boiler is no air conditioning in this incinerating, hellish, super-duper hot, tropical heat. Sergio installed a mini-split that takes the edge off of the blazing temperature, but it's not big enough. It's being sent to the bedroom and so a better one can be installed for living and kitchen. Soon. Very soon. Did I say very, very soon?

Also on the list is getting cable and internet. Luckily, I have a neighbor who neglected to secure his wireless connection so if I sit in right direction and the sun and moon are aligned correctly, I can leech off the neighbor's internet. Which is what I am doing right now to publish this.

Moving is a good thing. It forces you to clean out your closets and get rid of things you haven't used in years. Just ask my folks. After a lifetime in Iowa, they are in the process of moving to Texas. Mom, it's time to get rid of the Home Interior decorations from the 1970's. Dad, the leisure suit in your closet should go. But then again, maybe not. After all, your closet/museum has been a source of amusement for me and my sisters for years. We're talking about a man who still wore his Navy issued swimming trunks 50 years after discharge. Woo hoo, way to go Dad!

Dad and his Navy issued swimming trunks, cerca 1951

Rio Grande Valley rudeness!

2010-08-11T20:59:00.000-05:00

I HATE crossing the bridge between Mexico and Texas. Anzalduas, Hidalgo, Pharr, Progreso, etc. The lines are miserably long. The worst in the whole process are the lane cutters. At the Hidalgo bridge, the right lane is the preferred lane because it splits into 4-lanes at the end while the others don't split. Consequently, the right lane is longer. So the lane cutters pay their toll, drive half-way across the bridge and then at a moment's notice they cut in front of you if you hesitate for even a second. This is made worse by all the vendors on the bridge. I'm so afraid I'm going to hurt one of them, I hesitate a lot. Therefore, the lane cutters jump at their chance risking life, limbs, or, to the very least, scratches and dents in their car and mine! Yes, I've been hit by one of these jerks. Makes me so angry I feel like playing bumper cars and whack their ass back to their own lane. Nah, I ain't gonna do it. I'd probably take out a bridge vendor in the process. I don't want to hurt the poor bridge vendors (no matter how irritating they are) who are just trying to put food on their table. But I'll make an exception for the one that swore at me a few weeks ago.

Iowa - The Land of Tall Trees and Tall People

2010-08-03T00:48:00.002-05:00

I'm an Iowan - Idiot Out Wandering Around Nowhere.

That joke was told to me by a good friend who happens to be from Minnesota. You know why Iowa is so windy? That's because Minnesota sucks! JAJAJAJAJA (LOL en espanol)

I arrived in Iowa today. I drove my parent's Ford Explorer while my dad drove the big moving truck. They are in the process of moving to Edinburg, Texas. The first night we stayed in Ardmore, Oklahoma at the Bedbug Motel 6. It was nasty and I would give it a 0 star rating because the sheets and blankets were stained. We spent the night at my cousin Sherri's house in Knob Noster, Missouri last night. That was fun. It was a Culberson gathering with cousins Candi, Kelli, ~~Jordin~~, Shane, Anna, Ham and kids. Oh, yeah, I meant to say Jordin, my first cousin, once removed. (hahaha, inside joke - she'll get me for it the next time we get together). We told stories or made confessions about rotten things we have done in the past. We told stories about my sister Lynn, who died tragically in a car accident this past winter. I confessed how my sister Deana and I many years ago trained our Maltese dog to attack Lynn. It sounds worse than it really was even though Lynn would jokingly claim she needed years of therapy because we had traumatized her for life. OK, I admit to feeling guilty, just a little. But, dang, it was funny when that 8 pound dog would chase Lynn up the steps and then stand guard so she couldn't come down the steps.

So here I am in Cedar Rapids. My parents have a huge maple tree in the front yard. At one time they had a willow tree that seemed to be as tall as the clouds. All trees in Reynosa are dwarfs. Tonight I was walking around Hy Vee, the local grocery store, and marveling at how tall everyone is. I am only slightly above average in the height department here in Iowa which means I am a half-foot taller than everyone in Mexico. It must be all the corn and pork products that we consume in Iowa that makes us grow so tall. Or it's the lack of fear of a gun battle in our neighborhood.

I will be returning with tomatoes and sweet corn. And nobody will dare to put mayo, cheese OR chili on my good ol' Iowa sweet corn.

Miss Daisy Dog's Eating Ritual

2010-07-27T16:45:00.000-05:00

Picture this... you make yourself a meal, set the table, pour the drinks, dish out the dinner portions on your plates, and then using your mouth, scoop up a few bits and place them on the carpet to eat. OK, so my dog doesn't pour drinks or set the table, but she does have quite an eating routine. It might start with the cat venturing too close to the food bowl. The cat does not touch the dog's food, but this will prompt a feeding frenzy. "Grrr, grrrr", she says as Mr. Sam Katze gets too close the meal. Then Miss Daisy Dog scoops up 4-5 pieces of dog food, removes them to the carpet, and spits out the bits to eat one at a time. I don't get it. The cat doesn't have a problem with eating over his bowl.

But at least this habit isn't disgusting like a few others Miss Daisy Dog has committed in the past. She's been called a few things like "tampon breath" and "cat shit breath" just to name a couple. Eeeeeewwwwww! I hope ya'll weren't eating or about to eat.

A Mexican Open to the Public Pool

2010-07-24T12:16:00.002-05:00

Ahhhhh, how do you spell relief from the relentless summer heat in Mexico especially since all the roads to the beach are closed due to flooding? Well, I'll tell ya. Pay $40 pesos (about $3.50 USD) and go to a public pool where the RULES are so different compared to public pools in the USA. I've been to a few public pools around the USA and the rules are fairly consistent. Let's review the rules for public pools in the USA and then Mexico.

Public Pools in the USA:
1. Must wear proper attire (no jeans, belts, shoes, and men must have a liner inside the shorts so body parts don't fall out)
2. No flotation devices (makes it hard for lifeguards to see drowned dead bodies at the bottom of a pool)
3. Unsafe behavior will ensure lifeguards activate their sound alarms (whistle blowing for back flips into pool, playing chicken, pushing others into the pool, etc.)
4. Bringing alcohol is strictly prohibited, let alone the pool selling alcohol. Most who patronize a public pool in the USA are under 21 or mothers with their young children. Can you imagine a group of mothers with margaritas in their hands watching their toddlers?

Public Pools in Mexico (or at least the one that I went to in Reynosa)
1. Wearing bathing suits is optional. In fact, many do not use this option. Many were wearing jeans, belts, t-shirts, or every day clothes. Some of the women were wearing camisoles that when wet you don't need any imagination to see what is underneath. One woman was wearing a bra, underwear and fishnet stockings. Yes, I said fishnet stockings. I wish I had taken a photo cuz I don't think anyone will believe me. I went to the pool with my friend Amanda and she's the one who spotted the woman in her swimming attire so I am the witness to the truth!
2. They sell flotation devices.... cheap. And blow them up for you.
3. Lifeguards? What lifeguards? Swim at your own risk. I saw teenager playing chicken, people pushed into the pool fully clothed and below is a photo of a young man flipping backwards into the crowded pool. Everyone better get out of his way.
4. Not only can you bring your own food, snacks or meat to grill, you can bring your own beverages. And if you didn't, there is a full bar for your drinking pleasure. I had 2 beers. Next time, I'll have a margarita.

Basically I am saying the public pools in Mexico are not as safe as pools in the USA, but a lot more fun. However, the pool was so crowded (it was a Sunday) and I rarely saw anyone go into the restrooms so I assume the pool was being used consistently as a giant toilet. My legs were the only body part I allowed into the water. It still was refreshing, along with the beer.

Left: This young man was pushed into the pool, shoes and all.
Right: Back flip into the pool.
Below: The entire crowded pool

Lasagna..... with jalapeños

2010-07-18T11:30:00.004-05:00

Sergio and his daughter Angeles are here with me. That's another story and another long post for sometime in the future. Sergio requested lasagna for dinner so I made it. Mmmm, good. Layers of pasta, hamburger, tomato sauce, cottage cheese, mozzarella cheese and Parmesan cheese. Cheesy good! Angeles made a good effort and managed to choke down some of it. You might say it isn't exactly her favorite dish.

Making lasagna does require a little effort and dirtying a few pots and pans. And I made garlic bread too. It's not like I can run down to the local HEB and pick up a loaf of garlic bread. So if garlic bread is wanted with lasagna, it has to be created. I set the table, make a pitcher of mango juice and served everyone. Ahhhh, the blessed part where I get to sit. Then I hear, "Where's the jalapeños?"

What!???

Who eats lasagna with jalapeños? That's just wrong. And so is corn on the cob with mayonnaise, cheese, and chili, otherwise known as elotes.

My mom and dad arrived from Iowa last week to their home in Edinburg (about 25 miles away). They brought some most EXCELLENT sweet corn and tomatoes from Iowa. The first night Sergio and Angeles arrived, I made hamburgers with tomatoes and sweet corn. I made sure they knew that this sweet corn was NOT to be eaten Mexican style, but only with butter and salt. I totally understand why Mexicans eat THEIR corn with mayonnaise, cheese, and chili, because, as far as I'm concerned, Mexican corn (elotes) is gross and should only be eaten by pigs. The only way it can be eaten is with mayonnaise, cheese, and chili to cover up its nasty taste. I may sound like a corn snob, but I am entitled. The USA produces more corn than any other country in the world and Iowa is the state that has produced the most for the past 14 years. (fact checking on http://www.iowacorn.org/default.aspx - the official website of Iowa corn). Heck, we even have a corn cam where you can watch the corn grow - http://www.iowafarmertoday.com/corn_cam/ Yeah, we're never bored in Iowa. There is always something to do.... like watch the corn grow.

So to recap the lessons learned in this blog.
1. Lasagna is not to be eaten with jalapeños.
2. Sweet corn from Iowa is boiled and then slathered with butter and salt... NOT mayonnaise, cheese & chili.
3. Iowa produces more corn than any other place in the world and is so proud of this fact that they even have a corn cam.
4. Rita is a corn snob.

Bed Potato and Random Thoughts

2010-07-06T23:09:00.001-05:00

I did a spectacular backwards swan dive from a chair today. If I were an Olympic judge, I'd give myself a 10. In some of the classrooms, the teacher's desk is up on a platform something like 8-10 inches. I'm a little fuzzy about the details because I kind of blacked out for a second but I'm guessing one of the back legs of the chair was off the platform and, well, you can do the calculations about what happened when I took a seat. I don't exactly remember hitting the floor but I do remember feeling like I had been tasered. I felt paralyzed like the time I was 5 and stuck tweezers in an electrical socket and was completely unable to move for what seemed like an eternity. Smooth move, Rita. Even more embarrassing than crash landing in a classroom is being pulled out on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance in front of the all the parents coming to pick up report cards. At least the students were not in class to witness my extreme klutziness. I was in too much pain or I would have done the "queen's wave" as I was rolling by the crowd. The x-rays were fine and the end result... a pulled muscle. It hurts to breath, move and, especially, laugh. Don't make me laugh.

So here I sit in my bed, popping pills with pillows propped up behind the back and laptop on lap. Not exactly doped up but relaxed enough to feel comfortable. And write about silly things. Like Bimbo shirts. I've been around Mexico long enough that I don't snicker anymore when I see the men (or women) wearing shirts emblazoned with a huge BIMBO. I believe it is a brand of the makers of bread and sweets something like Hostess Ho-Ho's. It would be like a US citizen wearing a Wonderbread shirt. But I was reminded of the English meaning of bimbo when my family came to visit in April and they snickered when they saw someone wear such a shirt. This is a public service announcement to anyone who owns a Bimbo shirt. Don't wear said shirt in Smalltown, USA because everyone would point, stare and then run you out of town after tarring and feathering. However, I don't think I would wear a Ho-Ho or a Ding Dong shirt either.

I've blogged about potholes large enough to swallow cars in Reynosa before, but now that Hurricane Alex has passed I've been watching the roads disintegrate before my eyes. Nobody drives in a straight line because we all play "Dodge the Pothole". Everyone who drives around Reynosa must be careful of driving through standing water because who knows what lurks beneath the waters. I wouldn't be surprised to find alligators. To be fair, there are areas on the Texas side that are almost as bad but it's not as likely to find a missing manhole cover with a tire stuffed in it. I can only hope that the newly elected officials of Reynosa will do something fixing the roads around here. We can always hope, can't we?

The other day I was in line on the international bridge between Reynosa and Hidalgo where the signs clearly state "No Pedestrians" and "It Is Illegal To Buy and Sell Items on the Bridge". Apparently the hundreds of Mexican vendors did not get the message. OK, so they been around the bridge for like a hundred years selling bottles of water, peanuts, paintings of the Virgen, gum, sun screens for windows, or whatever makes a quick buck. Usually you will get you window(s) washed whether they need it or not AND whether you say yes or NO. They work their way well into US territory and the Border Patrol apparently do not try to fight a losing battle over this. Fine. No problem. Usually, I set my head into the automatic shaking mode of NO and they go away and leave me alone. Until the other day, that is. These vendors have developed the motto "If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, again." Vendors knocked on my window. I shook my head no and went back to my phone call. They knocked again. And again. After numerous knockings most gave up except one. I was talking on the phone and he started yelling at me after knocking several times. I looked up to see this angry seller of cheap bracelets and necklaces. I shook my head no and pointed to the phone. He actually yelled back at me, "Me vale madre", which the English equivalent is "I don't give a shit." On US territory. Yes, he had crossed the international line to cuss at me in Spanish in my own country. Oh, yeah, like yelling at me like that is really going to make me want to buy his crappy jewelry. I've got an idea. I am going to load up my car to sell items like, oh, let's say, $1 shoes from the Korea store. Then I am going to hawk them on the bridge for $2 or $3. I'm going to wave them in the vendors face trying to force them to buy a pair. If they shake their head NO then I am going to cuss at them in English. In Mexico.

And, so, here I lie in bed on meds, like a potato, with random thoughts in my head. I wonder what I can think up tomorrow?

Hurricane Alex Is Coming

2010-06-29T23:12:00.000-05:00

I will keep name of the rat-bastard thief, Edward Cadena AKA Edward Mendez Cadena, Eddie Cadena or Edward Rhodes, age 33 from Port Arthur, TX on the first line of each blog until the sheriff catches up with him. The full story was published June 17.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Hurricane Alex is coming. Yup, he's on the way. No, I am not referring to the storm brewing in the Gulf of Mexico. I am speaking of my almost 6-year-old nephew on his way here with his grandparents. Look at his photo and tell me if doesn't look ornery??? Is it a coincidence that they name the first storm of the season after my nephew? I think not.

I'm sure his mother is up in heaven having a good laugh about it all.

Dialing in Mexico - How Do I Make a Phone Call?

2010-06-13T13:26:00.001-05:00

I still have a US cellular phone but with a Mexico plan. I know it's kind of a pain for anyone with a Mexico cell phone to call me. Sorry. Here's a few things I've learned about using a US cell phone in Mexico.

When I am in the US or close enough to the US and I am not roaming...
1. I can call any US cell phone as normal.
2. To call a Mexico phone, I need to dial 011-52 plus phone number including the area code (is that what it is called in Mexico, an area code?). Example: 011-52-899-158-xxxx
3. If that Mexico phone is a cell phone, MOST of the time I need add a 1 after 52. Example: 011-52-1-899-158-xxxx. I did say MOST of the time because I do have a friend with a Mexican cell phone that does not require the 1 after 52.

When I am no longer close to the US and start roaming...
1. I need to dial 001 plus area code and phone number to call a US phone. Example: 001-956-566-xxxx
2. If I want to call a Mexico phone, all I need to dial is the area code plus number. Example: 899-158-xxxx.

Even when I am in Mexico City, I still need to dial the entire area code with my US cell phone. For example, if I call my friend I need to dial 552-158-xxxx. But apparently if you are calling from a Mexico City phone, you can drop the 55 and just dial 21-58-xxxx. Does this apply to cell phones or just home phones? I am so confused. And speak of confusing, that brings up another thing... texting.

To text a Mexican cell phone no matter if I am roaming or not, I need to dial 011-52-899-158-xxxx. Do not us the 1 after the 52. And to text a US cell phone, roaming or not, I just use the area code and number.

I think I just about covered it. I think I understand. Now I am off to do some quantum physics or calculus equations, just for the fun of it. OK, not really.

P.S. I had to change some settings in my blog and, grrrrr, I will have to approve your comments before you can leave them. It's not because I am afraid of negative feedback. If you write something negative, I could care less. I'll still publish it. It has to do with a rat bastard thief named Edward Cadena, aka Edward Mendez Cadena, aka Edward Rhodes, aka Eddie Cadena. He was a trusted friend and a fellow teacher until he stole from me. He can sue me for publicly calling him a rat bastard thief. I'd love to see him in court. I don't think he will because when someone is a rat bastard thief, the last place he will ever want to show up is in a court room.

Shopping Challenges On This Side of the Border

2010-05-27T22:27:00.001-05:00

I am just barely above average at 5'8" tall which is mountainous compared to the average Mexican woman (or man), weighing more than I should, and wearing size 9 shoes. I tried to buy shoes once in Durango. The largest shoe size anyone carried was a Mexico size 6 which, according to the conversion charts, is a size 9 in the US. Huh, uh! Feeling like one Cinderella's ugly step-sisters, I tried to stuff my foot into the shoe like a sausage. Finding clothes in the 14/16 range is only slightly difficult, but I find that pants are cropped for petite woman so they end up a couple inches above my ankle. Is showing the belly button still in fashion with wearing shirts too short? So what's a gal to do? Well, like thousands of Mexicans, I head for La Plaza Mall in McAllen to do my shopping. Even on the Texas side, I often find the clothes too petite. I'm getting used to wearing clothes Mexican-style (too tight).

I do love Mexican food with all types of salsas but shopping for food can be a challenge too, especially when I crave some white people food. Frozen food section at S-Mart, Soriana, or HEB? Yeah, right! Practically nonexistent. No self-respecting Mexican would eat an .88 cent Banquet frozen dinner. The produce section is usually the brightest spot of the stores, although sometimes the tomatoes are a sorry looking bunch. I miss the good 'ol big boy tomatoes from Iowa. Peppers are abundant with 3.2 million different varieties. I already did a blog on the oil section, er, I mean, oil aisle. However, what throws me off is the cuts of meat. In Iowa I had never seen thin slices of chicken legs/thighs, bones and all. Many of the cuts of meat are sliced thin like bacon. I won't even go into the chicken heads and feet I saw at the tianguis in Mexico City, but what's up with the whole chickens? They are like really super yellow. I'm scared to eat them 'cuz I think the chickens died of jaundice. And when I am dying for a good ol' Yankee pot roast, I have to head to the Texas side to find a huge hunk of round meat. Even on the Texas side it is difficult to find a roast section at the stores. While I'm there in Texas, I also pick up Swiss cheese since I am unable to find it in Reynosa. The turkey I bought for Thanksgiving was bought in Texas which brings up a whole other topic... stoves. Most Mexicans use their stoves for storing dishes and tupperware. Amazingly, our Thanksgiving turkey came out steamingly and juicely delicious even though we had no thermometer and the stove was set at 5 (as in 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5). How do you translate that into Fahrenheit? Or Celsius? I can deal with Celsius and other odd metric measurements as long as I have the internet to do a conversion.

I'd love to hear from others about their food and clothing challenges especially if you don't have the luxury of shopping in Texas regularly like me. How do you cope?

Donkey Carts

2010-05-13T21:00:00.001-05:00

UPDATE: I was informed that animal above is not a donkey or a burro, but a mule. DUH! Like I know the difference. I was raised in Iowa so I can educate the people about the differences between corn and soy bean fields or cows and pigs. And just because I was raised in Iowa doesn't mean I was a farm gal. I was raised in the 2nd biggest city in Iowa, a huge metropolis with more than 100,000 people. OK, maybe I should have left it at the 2nd biggest city, but then people will actually give me a deadpan stare and ask, "There are cities in Iowa?"

On my first trip across the border a few years ago, I saw a donkey cart. I thought donkey carts only existed in caricatures on pots for plants. Lo and behold, they still exist in Mexico. Trying not to stare too hard because I didn't want to appear like I'd never seen such a thing before, I tried to figure out the purpose of this antiquated mode of transport. As near as I could figure, it was full of garbage. In the US, I know certain types of scrap metal is worth money, but this cart was full of corn husks, scrap wood and a CD nailed to a board among other things. This guy regularly goes down my road. What is the value in this junk? Are people paying him to haul away their junk? Please enlighten me.

Los Ebanos Ferry

2010-04-28T21:32:00.002-05:00

About a 1/2 hour from Reynosa is a small little town called Diaz Ordaz. It was a few years ago the first time I went there and I was impressed. It's small but close enough to Reynosa if you want to do some real shopping. It is a quiet little town that seems to escape most of the heat from the border wars. I love the seafood restaurant just off the main drag. Another little hidden treasure nearby is the hand-drawn ferry across the Rio Grande. Up to three cars fit on the floating pontoon and, as you can see by the photos, it is pulled across by hand. You can even help pull it if you feel the need for exercise. The bad... it closes at 3:00 PM whether or not you are still waiting in line to cross. Too bad, so sad.

Across on the Texas side is an old general store that appears as if it hasn't been open in a while. The sign on the window says "Pot Drinks." I wonder what they were serving there?

The Seedier Side of Life in Mexico

2010-04-22T21:07:00.005-05:00

You're never too old too learn something new. I went to Monterrey last weekend to meet a couple friends and have some fun. They were in Monterrey because their stepfather went there for heart surgery. They are not familiar with Monterrey just like me. So we were searching around the bus station to find a fun bar, kick back and have a few beers. After poking our head in a few doors, we settled on one that had a live cumbia band. Cool. I dressed up for the occasion. I was wearing black dress pants, blue dressy shirt and my high heels... all of 2.5 inches. I am somewhat tall for an American at 5'7" but that's giganormous for a Mexican. Well, let me tell you I was severely underdressed compared to the rest of the women in the bar. Or should I say I was overdressed? I mean these girls barely had anything on at all. Their dresses were so short they kept yanking and pulling them back down to cover their underpanties. It was amusing to watch the routine. Dance, twirl, yank.

And there were a lot of them dressed just like this. Most were thin or at least reasonable. A couple were just plain fat. Then I noticed the men. Some were young, but there were quite a few older men slobbering over these women. I kept thinking, "Why on earth would a young woman wearing a slutty dress with 5-inch spiked heels want an old man with a huge panza hanging on them?"

And then Carlos enlightened me. They were working girls. The club hires them and addition to their salary, the men pay 10 pesos a dance and buy the drinks for the girls. So let me get this straight???? These girls get all dudded up, get paid to dance, drink free, and they don't even have to serve the drinks? You mean to tell me all the time I went club hopping in the USA during my youth and danced with the men for free? Geez! I should have been charging a dollar a dance. I could be rich now.

P.S. Jumping for joy, jumping for joy! I got a new boiler yesterday. It's been 24 hours and it is still lit and the water is still warm

That Was FUN!

2010-04-05T14:59:00.001-05:00

My sons and one significant other finally came to visit their ol' mom in Reynosa. On the second night here we had a barbecue party complete with a live band. Judging by the mess I cleaned up the morning after, a good time was had by all. Even the 'gun' incident didn't spoil the good time. The drummer ran an errand and when he parked in front of the house, another car pulled up with a group of gangsters and they put a gun to his head. Apparently they were satisfied he was just an inebriated party boy and nothing happened and the party went on. I'm going to paraphrase a favorite line of my friend Lindy... I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

Since Reynosa isn't exactly a party town without guns, we decided to get out of this shithole. Sorry for the bad language which I don't normally use, but I just can't come up with a more appropriate word for this town right now. We hopped an Omnibus and headed for Mexico City. As soon as we landed at the north bus station, we hopped another bus and went to the pyramids in Teotihuacan. Here's the evidence that we made it to the top of the sun pyramid. Yes, I made it to the top too. Someone had to take the photo.

Back in Mexico City, I met a fellow blogger Jessica and her beautiful family. We ate at a local tianguis and the food was awesome. Then we rented a car and took off for Acapulco. Acapulco is expensive. Acapulco is FUN. We found an expensive but very nice hotel called Costa Azul. It is about 6 blocks off the beach. I'd hate to see what the hotels on the beach cost. After an afternoon of sun, beach, waves, and beer, we went back to the hotel to clean up and find the night life. We met the best taxi driver in Acapulco named Alex and he took us to Carlos & Charlie's, an excellent choice. Not cheap, but it sure was FUN. The waiters like to mess with the customers and they like to dance for your entertainment. They like to make YOU dance for their entertainment. And the clown who will make body parts and appendages for you was hilarious. I can't wait to save up and go to Acapulco again. Alex, will you be my driver again? You are the best!

We drove (or should I say snailed) our way back to Mexico City again. Apparently all the Chilangos went to Acapulco for the weekend and the traffic was bumper-to-bumper on the way back. We got back late, had dinner with Jessica and Guillermo and then took off via the Metro to the bus station. And here we are back in nasty Reynosa where the gun battles continue daily. Apparently the police are afraid of any buses coming to Reynosa because we were stopped and checked our bus several times. The last federal policeman that entered our bus was very grumpy. I guess I wouldn't be too pleasant if I walked in his shoes.

The kids leave tomorrow. They had a great time. I had a great time. I am going to miss them. I already miss Acapulco.

Listing of Good Things about Mexico

2010-03-27T11:17:00.001-05:00

My favorite things about Mexico are...

1. I don't pump my own gas. In fact, I am not even allowed to pump my own gas in Mexico. But I never put gas in my car when I lived in Iowa. My ex-husband tried to convince me that the "gas fairy" doesn't exist. My car was always riding on empty because I DETEST putting gas in a car. Magically, the car would be full of gas the next time I drove it after coasting home on fumes. The ex tried to convince me that he PUT the gas in the car, but I would cover my ears and run. LALALALALA. I'm not listening because I know gas fairies did and still do exist. Nowadays I just pay the man at the Pemex gas station and, voila!, the gas fairy fills the car.

2. I don't wash my own car. It only cost about 4 or 5 USD to get my car vacuumed, washed and dried, all by hand. There is even a little shack where you can sit and buy a $1 beer while waiting. Cool! The only thing getting me wet is my beer.

3. Yesterday while I was at hairdresser, I paid someone about $20 to sweep, dust, mop my 5 room apartment and clean the bathroom. I know I should clean my own apartment but I don't want to do it. Besides, that would mean less time for Facebook and blogging. Or working on my resume. I can easily find a million reasons to justify paying for a maid.

4. Parking lot attendants in uniforms blow whistles to help me back out of a parking spot. I admit it. I have issues with putting my car in reverse. It started in high school when I took out part of the garage door frame. The attendants also take back shopping carts. This is nice. You never see parking lots in Mexico full of shopping carts like Walmart in McAllen. My car has enough dings from my backing up problem.

5. Tacos. All kinds of tacos. Except tripas. Those are just wrong. And so are sesos (brains).

6. The water truck. They come down the street with a loudspeaker blaring their arrival. The nice young man brings me 2 five-gallon jugs of water upstairs to my kitchen. Nice! In fact, many different trucks drive around so you can shop from home. In Ciudad Valles, the bread truck comes around a night. I've also seen a fruit and veggie truck and a tortilla truck. The trick is learning to distinguish the arrival of which truck?? The loudspeakers are about as clear as mud to me.

7. The buses are wonderful. If anyone has ever taken a Greyhound bus in the USA, then you know it sucks. The seats are uncomfortable and barely recline. Due to copyright laws, Greyhound is not allowed to play movies on the bus. And the Greyhound stops in every podunk town making a normal 24 hour trip into 48 hours. I've tried several different bus lines in Mexico. Omnibus is a favorite. The seats are large, cushy and reclines to a nice sleeping position. And they play 2-3 movies. They are in Spanish, but I can follow a movie in Spanish. (I still can't watch the news in Spanish because they speak too fast.) I get on a bus for Mexico City at 8:00 in the evening, watch a couple movies, fall asleep and wake up in Mexico City in the morning. Warning! Bring along drinks and food because this bus barely stops.

What are your favorite things about Mexico?

I Hope This School Isn't Teaching English Like This!

2010-03-20T14:48:00.003-05:00

I was checking around on the internet for schools. I came across this English translation for a certain school's website that promotes their bilingual education. Even though I am an English teacher, I am not the grammar and spelling police. I've been known to end a sentence with a preposition. Example: "I don't know where it's at." I'm always telling Miss Daisy Dog to go lay down. For you grammatical-challenged people I am suppose to yell at my dog to go LIE down. Lay in the present tense is for placing objects some place. Lie in the present tense is for a resting or reclining position, or the fib you tell your spouse that you didn't spend too much on the dress. I have problems spelling certain words. Occured? Occurred? Ocurred? How about necesary, or is it neccesary. Hmm, that doesn't seem right. It must be necessary? Cementery or cementary? Well, you get the idea. I think all of us have mental blocks on how to spell some words.

However, this particular website promoting their education and bilingual program is just awful. I can usually tell when someone has thrown a paper into an online translation program, but I am not sure about this one. I think someone may have actually written it. I don't think a translation program can spell this bad. I hope the person who wrote it is not an English instructor at the school. Read it and weep.

http://www.norcerod.edu.mx/pagNuesInst_i.htm

I Saw a Firetruck!

2010-03-12T22:52:00.000-06:00

I'm sick to death of posting about the balaceras (gun battles) so here's a different topic. I saw a firetruck tonight. An honest to goodness firetruck. And not just 5 minutes before I was discussing with Linda (teacher from Canada) that in all of my time in Reynosa, I had never seen a firetruck.

I've had these strange things happening to me lately. Ever since the death of my sister, I've been picking up vibes and sensing things. A couple are too personal to write about involving my sister but here's a happy one, for example. I was driving near my hometown in Iowa last week with my father when all of the sudden I thought of someone that I hadn't thought about in more than 20 years. I was wondering where he was and what he was doing. The last I knew he was in Colorado. Well, guess what? When I returned to Reynosa this week, he emailed me. He had done a google search and found me. And he lives near my hometown in Iowa. How strange is that?

Anyone have any tarot cards and a crystal ball to loan me? I'm going into business.

I'm a POW

2010-03-10T20:01:00.000-06:00

I am a prisoner of war.

I returned to Reynosa last weekend after the funeral of my sister. I was thinking of blogging about something fun like the donkey carts on the streets. Maybe next time. I was sitting on the sofa eating dinner at 6:45 tonight and watching TV when I heard something that sounded like gun shots and explosions. It was warm today so I've got all the windows and door open. So I turned off the TV and listened for about 5 minutes. I heard something like another explosion. But around here you never know if it's a car backfiring. Fast forward about an hour when I get a call from my contact who works for Mexican customs and claims to be in-the-know. He tells me to stay in the house and do not go out. Geeeeeeezus!

I am now on the computer tuned into our only news source.... Twitter. Everyone is twittering that there is a gun battle down at the SMart on Morelos, just a few blocks from here. Yup, I am sure I heard it.

We kept hoping it will get better. It isn't. I am polishing my resume.

A Note To All...THANK YOU!

2010-03-04T01:12:00.001-06:00

I shouldn't write this while I am so tired because I am afraid I am going to forget someone. There have been a lot of wonderful people who have been awesome helping our family during our time of sorrow. To everyone who wrote, emailed, called, blogged, facebooked, came to the visitation, funeral or stopped by the house I want to say THANK YOU! There are too many of you to thank individually. The amount of food that people dropped off could have fed an army. We didn't need to cook much all week. Lynn had many friends and family that loved her. There are literally hundreds of people that were personally touched by Lynn.

Thank you Judy Avis and daughter Paulette Hearn. You both are true friends through thick and thin. I know it means a lot to my mom that you both were there for her during a most difficult time. To Lynn's friends that have been there forever like Amy Adams-Whitaker and Teresa Beers, you guys are the best. The memorial at Buffalo Wild Wings was very touching. Thank you Amy for helping me pick out the music. The song "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me will always be a special memory for me. I don't know if I can listen to the song in the future without crying. I didn't know Amanda Tandle but she is the creator of the facebook page RIP Lynn Culberson-Mota and Amy and Teresa are the administrators. So many message have been left on Lynn's facebook page and her tribute page, I still haven't had time to read them all. Andrew's friend, Sarah Rosales, age 10, sang the most beautiful version of "I Will Remember You". Girl, you have a beautiful voice. When you are old enough to quit your day job, go for it. You can sing professionally. Thank you to my cousins Sherry, Candi, Dona and Jordin for coming from Missouri and Pennsylvania. Everytime we are together I laugh and laugh. How many Culbersons does it take to figure out how to set up a television? The entire class and several instructors from Northeast Iowa Community College came for the visitation and funeral. Wow! Thank you to Kimmy Sloman who read the beautiful poem that she posted on Lynn's facebook. Thank you Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Dean for finding the poem on Lynn's facebook and bringing it to our attention. A special thank you to Scott Reggentin, Lynn's study buddy and close ally in the nursing program. Your stories about Lynn will keep me going for a long time. Please keep in touch.

Last, but most important, my nephews Andrew and Alex, you deserve the biggest thank you. You two have been very brave facing the death of your mother. Remember, your Aunt Deana said your mom's spirit will live on your hearts. Nothing will ever take that away from you.

Five Stages of Grief

2010-03-01T10:25:00.009-06:00

My B.A. is Elementary Education but I have a minor in psychology. I've always said I know just enough about psychology to make an improper diagnosis of my family members' problems. Examples include OPD (obnoxious personality disorder) and LDS (laundry deficiency syndrome). The latter came from my ex-husband's inability to do laundry. He used to throw our sons' bunched up socks along with untreated stains in the washing machine. I finally begged him to stop washing clothes when he threw my very expensive Amana wool coat that was to be dry cleaned ONLY into the washing machine. One thing I remember from my psychology classes is the Kubler-Ross model, AKA the 5 stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

I AM PISSED. There are a lot of idiots in this world. Here are a few examples of them.

Example #1 - Youdonut wrote in response to the Cedar Rapids Gazette's article about my sister's fatal accident:

February 25, 2010 at 4:36 am Glad to hear that none of the bus occupants were injured. It would be interesting to find out if it was a distracted driver though. Pretty hard not to see a stopped bus with lights flashing. Not to be pedantic, but that looks like a 2000 or 2001 Saturn L series station wagon. I've seen it around town before.

Dear Youdonut, Thank you for your condolences. Your words are so comforting. I will agree it is good news that none of the bus occupants were injured. My sister would have never hurt a flea let alone school children. One time my sister found baby bunnies in the backyard. She made my dad build a box around the bunnies so the crows wouldn't kill the bunnies.

Example #2 - Tetra021 wrote in the Des Moines Register:

Replying to nokrapt:

That is a horrifying photo. Prayers to her family.

At least you don't have to see what the aftermath on her was. Hopefully she's not too messed up to be an open casket funeral.

Dear Tetra021, I am a little more concerned about the 2 motherless boys, age 11 and 5, that my sister is leaving behind than whether or not we can have an open casket funeral.

Example #3 - Dajones wrote to the Des Moines Register:

OK, I'm game.
Assuming she wasn't drunk, what would distract you to the point where you would miss a big, bright yellow school bus with big flashing yellow lights?
I think it would be a great idea to check the cell phones records of people involved in wrecks to see if they were texting or talking on their cell phones when the wreck occured.

Dear Dajones, My sister did not drink so you can safely assume she wasn't drunk. It was 3:30 in the afternoon and she was coming home from a long day at nursing school. She was a hard working mother trying to make a better life for herself and her boys. And the state trooper did check the cell phone record. She was NOT texting or talking. It seems you and several other idiots ASSUMED she was using her cell phone. I could have told you she was a very responsible driver and never used her cell phone while driving, but the state trooper's report is conclusive. It is public report. Check it out if you don't believe me.

Example #4 - Verymad wrote to the Des Moines Register:

Was the phone call worth it?
2/24/2010 9:12:44 PMDear Verymad, I dare you to say that to my face, you fucking coward. I've got a diagnosis for you. If being an asshole is a disease, you probably can get your insurance company to pay for an assholectomy. I'll be at the visitation today and the funeral tomorrow. You know where to find me. Say it to my face. It'll be the last thing you ever say.

RIP, my beautiful baby sister Lynn Marie Culberson Mota

2010-02-25T22:08:00.000-06:00

Yesterday afternoon my sister Lynn was driving home from nursing school. We suspect she fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into the back of a school bus. None of the children were hurt. My sister was killed instantly. My dad and I drove to Iowa in 22 1/2 hours and we arrived tonight.

To my beautiful baby sister... I will miss our chats. I will miss your wicked sense of humor. Most of all, I can't imagine a family gathering without you. I love you. RIP Lynnie the Pooh.