Snow up north

Ruby sent this picture of the snow in the backyard up north. Y'all, this is so WRONG! We tell people it almost never snows were we live, and IF we get snow, it's usually in February or March. About every 7 years. The winter of 2010/2011 is going in the record books, no doubt, for the whackiest weather all over the country. It's terribly cold, and windy, and I'm very happy to be far south!

Speaking of Ruby, I was thinking last night about the schizophrenia of the situation...I'm happy they have a place to live, I'm happy they can live in our house while we're away, but I'm missing the fun and laughter. Ruby and Jack have voted for us to eliminate the hutch by the table, and install a wood stove. It will heat the house more comfortably, save money on the power bill, and provide a way to use the trees that come down in hurricanes. Good points, all. She says we can keep the gas grill and cook-top on the deck, as long as we put a roof over it for the hot months.... and, she likes my idea of a screened gazebo in the woods, where I can hang my hammock. Listening, Stuart?

This time of year, a special treat appears at all the street vendors, and is served at every party. Bunuelos. You can see the tall stacks of crisy, fried tortilla in the picture, left. They are served atop a cheap clay bowl (you can see one on the table). The bowl has honey, for dipping the bunuelo. After you've eaten the bunuelo, you toss the bowl in the street/at the wall of the church/etc. It must break. I think it symbolizes breaking your bad habits or breaking off the old year. I'm not sure. Last night we walked up to Tio Guerro's, by the San Carmen church, for dinner, and the pavement around the clusters of bunuelo booths was covered in shattered pottery. I recollect, from previous visits to Oaxaca, the bowls were traditionally thrown at the Cathedral wall at midnight on Christmas Eve. I snapped this photo Dec 23, late in the afternoon.

All the food booths that spring up at festival time have electrical power. Now think about that: here they are, a temporary booth set up by the curb, in the street. WHERE does the power come from? Certainly not a stinky, loud generator. It you visually follow the lines over head, the ones that you assume are the lines holding up the canopies, you'll see a skinny power cord among the ropes. That power cord eventually connects with rubber bands and paper clips to the power source on the closest house or business. "Borrowing" power is a given in a country where the bulk of the population is without power at home.

No snow here. Nieva. But, in the evening, when the temperatures drop by 30 or more degrees, people are wearing polar fleece, hats and gloves. Stuart and I are sleeping under two thick blankets. But, we are down to shirt sleeves in the daylight hours, and are thankful to be here, where there is no snow.