Point South Mexico - Real Estate and Lifestyle Magazine

It has been about weeks since I crossed the border from my native land, intent on making a new life; crossed over in my overstuffed little car with a carrier on the top; me, my son who immediately returned to resume his busy Chicago life, and my black, mixed-breed canine companion Jazzy. Crossed over to revel in a land where the sun warms every day, to feel a tinge of guilty delight at reports of record cold and snow in what used to be home. I am in a land where my command of the language consists mainly of greetings which I use copiously in the morning when Jazzy takes us for our wake-up paseo in the park by the lake.

Have pity on me.  I have a dreadful and incurable disease.  I have no friends.  My family hasn't invited me to a reunion since I was twelve years old when my pestilence was diagnosed.  Even casual acquaintances hurriedly walk to the other side of the street when they see me coming.  I am a paronomasiac. Like the starship Enterprise, I see puns where no puns have gone before.

Translated by Louise Drummond

Suddenly my longings were no longer hopes, and it was necessary to look for facts.  I confronted a difficult decision in which I knew that I had to change jobs.  As Textile Technician, I could not attain the economic solvency that I wished for.

We had decided to treat our selves to a fine lunch in a famous restaurant in Ajijic.

Looking forward to it, I envisioned white tablecloths, large linen napkins and maybe even a small bouquet of flowers.

I got dressed and put on some makeup to be beautiful, and checked the result.

Will my problem be solved or must I extract myself from my Ajijic paradise to remedy this evil threat to limb and life?

Wednesday, just over a week ago my elbow struck the cement wall as I rounded the corner at Zaragoza and Colon. Small shooting funny bone pain caused me to drop the empty suitcase. A quick rub, grasp of the handle, I was briskly on my way.