Sunday, 4 April 2010


This is our Sunday instruction. Seems a bit harsh on Easter Sunday particularly as the Head Gardener is a bit of a pacifist, but he's outside on their trail now.
'They can eat a tree in a day, so be on the look out and if you see just one, remember...' Larry told us.
Yes, kill! kill! kill!. It's what you might expect from the Chief Security Officer. It's my responsibility to make sure the alarm system is on, off, armed, disarmed, lights on the terrace are on at sunset, fountains are on, off, curtains closed in the afternoon so as not to damage the furniture. There's also an automatic system, which I mustn't tamper with. It's very tempting though, as I realise what an anxious person I've become as I've got older. I worry if the Head Gardener will lose the keys to the palace, if some burglar will slip into the garage while he's outside on the trail of the offending insects, if Larry's secretly filming us and that we're really on a reality TV programme that weirdos have paid to watch. Now, get a grip!
San Miguel de Allende, named by a Friar and later after a hero of the war of independence, is a beautiful, arty town, full of colour and history. It was declared a UNESCO City of Culture in 2008 and there's an army of small people with Indian faces in blue overalls brushing and cleaning the gutters and plazas so that they sparkle. It's also nicknamed, 'the city of fallen women', not because there's a higher proportion of  working girls but because so many of us manage to turn an ankle or slip on a hand -carved cobble that line the roads. I've taken to using my Nordic walking stick. I stood leaning on it,while watching a Good Friday procession of Christ on the cross followed by a posse of Roman soldiers and little girls dressed as brides of Christ. It didn't get me a seat though. Maybe people thought I was on a skiing trip. That is until Rhys asked me how my hip was and a kind Mexican woman who understood English squeezed up and let me sit down.
Today, we're off to town again to see the Easter celebrations-the dynamiting of larger than life-size papier-mache Judas dolls.  Kill! kill! kill!
Happy Easter!

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