I've found my home

no video today

No video today (I heard that cheering in the background!).

The kids went home and we had an action day. We went to the bank and got the last of our money and then set off to cross the border. As we queued at a set of traffic lights I toyed with the idea of taking a short video of the sellers. At every set of traffic lights there are people who wander down the lines of cars selling stuff. There are newspaper vendors, ice cream sellers, people selling bottles of drink (non-alcoholic), people with bags of fruit, and the sellers of cactus leaves that are all chopped up (don't ask). Plus there are the performers and beggars. The performers range from five year old kids juggling to thirty year old men (who look about 60) fire eating. I glanced at Maria's handbag/purse, though about getting out the camera, but didn't.

As we climbed up to Otay, to get to the border crossing, I looked back over Tijuana. Looking over the bull ring, between the hills, you could see the area our flat is in. I thought, this would make a brilliant 20 second video. But I didn't reach into her purse for the camera.

At the border I got out the car and queued in the "walk-through" line. As Maria drove past me (at 1mph) I thought it would have been a brilliant moment to do a live documentary moment of me crossing the border. But she was in the car, I was in the line, it didn't happen.

I've decided to build a library in my classroom. Try to get 50+ books that the kids could read. We went to the Salvation Army Thrift Store. While searching through the bookshelves I cam across a copy of Dickie Bird's autobiography. Brilliant! Stood in San Diego, looking for books that 12 year old Mexicans could read, and I come across the autobiography of an ex-cricket player/umpire. I forgot to grab the camera and take a picture/video.

We bought three pots of flowers - venus flytraps. We thought about making a video of them, but didn't.

 

We went for a meal at The Outback. The waitress came over once to ask us: Is everything alright? We laughed away, thinking about (s)wine. In my mind I thought that this would make a brilliant video. However, she never came back, she went on a break, so there was no video taken.

Before we crossed back into Mexico we nipped into Vons, a supermarket. We were looking for salmon with the skin on - so that Maria can cook it in her special way. The guy on the checkout was English. But he was so desperate to not notice that I was English, and I, of course, said nothing - because we hadn't been formally introduced! The bag packer, who was struggling to understand either of us (it's our accents), stood there, amazed at this moment of coincidental timing. It didn't help that Maria handed over two $10 notes for a bill of $40 - she thought they were 20s but was coaught up in this whole "English embarrassement" moment. Of course, the guy on the checkout was mortified - how could he point out her mistake? It was hysterical. If only you had been there. I should have taken a video of the whole moment - but I didn't.

You know that moment when you catch a glimpse of something familiar in a film or a tele programme? A street you've walked down, a building you've been in. You know how you spend hours telling people that it was nothing like that really. Example. Hugh Laurie was in a television drama (back in the early 90s), a one off play, that involved a scene in a classroom. It was filmed in the classroom I taught in. The key plot moment to the scene was the teacher finished solving a simultaneous equation and the result was a: vulgar fraction. At which point much hilarity insued in the classroom over the fact the fraction was vulgar - the thing was set in the 1940s, kids those days huh? With their sense of humour! Except no-one knew how to write the solution to a simultaneous equation that resulted in a vulgar fraction. Having been given the day off school, I received a phone call at home to come in and help. Long story short (well, shorter than I could tell it) - the finished equation, on the board, was there in my handwriting, and then in the televised scene, the actor finished it off by writing a vulgar fraction. In completely different handwriting!

Anyhoo, the point I am trying to get to (slowly) is that, in every American film/tele programme there is always a checkpoint that Americans have to go through to cross the border into Mexico. In fact, in The Shield they actually pay someone $10,000 dollars to smuggle someone into Mexico. The reality is, no-one checks your entry into Mexico. You just drive straight in. That's why people "run away" to Mexico. You can get into the country without anyone knowing! Suddenly Maria announces:

Let's debunk a myth! Take a video of us driving into Mexico and everyone will see that we aren't stopped! Ha! Take that Hollywood!

So I reached into her purse, for the first time that day, and...there was no camera! No camera!! We were sure that we'd packed it. There were all those moments we were going to use it because we were convinced it was there. Maria went into shock/despair. She'd lost the camera. It was her fault. We'd lost the camera. How the hell were we going to get another camera? How could we afford it? How was I ever going to make another video? What to do? What to do?

Ten minutes later (notice it takes us nearly two hours to get from our house to where we were crossing from Mexico into the States but ten minutes the other way round - there are no border checks getting into Mexico Hollywood! Do some research.) we entered the flat, a bit down, a bit depressed.

The camera was sitting on the dining room table.

So, no video today because I didn't make one yesterday. However, the good (or bad) news is that there will be more soon - we've still got a camera!

flying the nest

paula spencer

Paula Spencer by Roddy Doyle

Have you ever dreaded picking up a book? You buy it, because you know you want to read it, but really you don't. Paula Spencer has sat on the bookshelf for a couple of months. Each time I've finished a book, and gone back to pick up another, I've never felt ready to read it. The main reason is that Paula Spencer is a sequel to The Woman Who Walked Into Doors. TWWWID is a very small book, thin, and yet it took me ages to read it. Every page is a struggle. Not because it is badly written (it is, in fact, excellent) but because every page is tragic. It is the most heart-breaking book I have read. The thought of dipping back into Paula's world was not a journey I was totally looking forward to. However, I am on a roll, reading-wise, so I took the bit between my teeth and picked it off the shelf.

It is wonderful.

I love the way Roddy Doyle writes. Normally it is a quick easy read - if you haven't read The Barrytown Trilogy, why not?. His books are funny, sad, well paced, brilliantly written. And Paula Spencer joins the list.

Although Paula's life is still surrounded in saddness and misery, there is still a lot of light in her world. This is a story of someone fighting back against all the pain and sorrow. This is the story of someone putting their life back together after the horrors of TWWWID. It is wonderful. And it flows. From picking it up to putting it down took seven hours. There were still pages that slowed me down, still pages that broke my heart. But this is a journey of redemption. Paula gets her life together and everything flows, not particularly easily, but the light at the end of the tunnel isn't an oncoming fist to the face train.

The bad news is that you really have to read TWWWID first. But get them together. Struggle through the first book and fly through the second. You'll enjoy the journey in the long run.

watering the lemon tree

don't drink and blog

It's a good rule but, like all rules, it exists to be broken. Since we came to terms with my IBS I have cut back on my alcohol intake, which means that I haven't been drinking every day (yes, I apologise if you are one of those people who immediately panics when they hear that people drink every day but it is possible to imbibe every day and not be an alcoholic - unless I am an alcoholic, in which case, meh!). Anyhoo, I haven't been drinking much. Except it is Friday and, due to a set of circumstances that I might get round to explaining, I have gunned my way through two bottles of Sol and am halfway through my third, with the fourth, fifth, sixth, (up to) twelfth in the fridge. Nikos is watching Transformers (for the 39th time), Maria and Dani are on the laptop, so I'm free to bang out a stream of consciousness on here.

Here goes.

First thing first while I've just mentioned  I love my mum. I didn't used to, when I could see her any time I wanted, when I could pick up the phone, when she could interfere any time she wanted to. Then she was annoying. Now, that we are 5000+ miles apart I have learned to love my mum - and miss her. Of course, I know that the minute I actually get to be in a room with her she will probably annoy the fuck out of me. Anyhoo, I love my mum. And I write to her every week (or phone her). Last week I sent her a copy of the IBS post. She sat on the email for three days and then replied:

My dear William,

Having read and re-read your 'opening up', I just wish to God you had done this years ago.  How was anyone ever going to be able to help you, not knowing what you were going through and not knowing that all you needed was a little tender loving care?
[cut]
Where IBS comes in I'm not sure, but it would seem that if you can now cure this with diet and mentally put all else behind you, doing what YOU want to and coming to terms with your OWN life, I can only offer you what support I can from a distance and hoping that your future will be more settled than have the past 22 years.

Which is just brilliant! Personally she hits a certain nail on the head: "How was anyone ever going to be able to help you, not knowing what you were going through and not knowing that all you needed was a little tender loving care?" Can anyone take a guess why I left England and am now in Mexico? Of course she then rambles on in her email about the weather/the garden/my brothers/my sister and then, casually, throws in that my cousin's son is back home from Afghanistan, where he has been on patrol. Could I add him to my prayers? As they are all hoping that he will one day walk again. Gotta lurve my mum.

We've had the kids for the last week. The main problem has been money. My last teaching job in England earned me 34,000 GBP sterling a year. Which was nice. There is a lot of arguments about how little teachers earn and I realise that a couple of my readers will jump down my throat if I, so much as, hint that teachers earn enough. Of course they don't. Teachers work 12/14 hour days. Added to this they also work Saturdays/Sundays. There are points, in a term/semester, that I have worked over 16 hours a day. But, and here's the killer, teachers do get 10 weeks holiday a year. Do the hours balance out? I dunno. There are the added minuses - whenever a teacher is on holiday, holidays cost a hell of a lot more. All teachers will also tell you that the first week/two weeks of holiday are normally spent in bed, dying. But, and here's the kicker, I'd have done more and casually accepted less money. And that's the fact that everyone knows. Teachers will do more, will accept less, because it's a vocation. and, if it ain't a vocation, then they will be the first person to moan about the money. All of that said, I earn a lot less, here in Mexico - divide by four and subtract a bit and you get a bit nearer. The cost of living is a lot less in Mexico but it ain't four times less. This means that, occasionally (once every to weeks) Maria and I are a bit tight for money. We live like students - big pot of beans, lots of pot (rammen) noodles.We keep the children away from this. Whenever they come here, there is no problem with money. They eat well, they do what they want, life is cool. And then my school fucked me over. I haven't been paid this month. Now, I have my problems with Maria's ex. The accusations of being a paedophile aside. But, for a man who flies off the handle when he's heard that "the children were left" with me, he seems quite happy to dump the kids on us whenever he wants - hot date in San Diego? Leave the kids with Will. Gotta go to Japan? Leave the kids with Will. Fed up with the kids? Leave them with Will. Problems at school? Blame Will. Nightmares? Blame Will. Kids have a cold? Blame Will. Anyhoo, the kids have been with us for a week, a week that I haven't been paid, a week that it has been slightly difficult to feed us...and them. Normally it would be no problem but the not being paid has been a bitch. I feel so fucking guilty. But, I hear you asking, how come you are drinking beer? Because, surprise surprise, Maria got paid today. Eh? Yes, the job she finished, a year ago, has just paid her. We tried to get across the border, go see a philum, go out for a meal. But, by the time we cashed the cheque, the queue for the border was four hours. Instead, after asking the kids, we bought makeup, we bought a WALL*E toy, we bought pizzas, we bought beer!

And I could rant some more. I could tell you that you really should be reading (s)wine. Except you shouldn't. You know that moment when you come across a blog and the writing is so good it scares you, puts you in your place, makes you realise that you're just typing, whereas someone is actually writing. Maybe you shouldn't be reading (s)wine - he scares the fuck out of me.

I could tell you that you should be commenting on Maria's blog. Telling her to post more!

I could tell you that I still haven't come to terms with Mexican banks - or the casual way that I haven't been paid for this month.

I could tell you about Dave McKean exhibition that we haven't gone to - yet!

But, the kids want to watch something together. So, I need to haul my ass (arse) into the television room and settle down in front of Nim's Island. I'll take my beer! [don't tell the kids but I also have Reality Bites].

never mind the spelling...

...feel the sentiment.

Nikos made me a card.

towards the balcony

...sorry - bit blurry and very shaky...

heart-shaped box

Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill

It's OK. If you like this kind of thing. And I don't. Not at the moment. Basically it is a horror book and at this point in my life (am trying to think at what point in my life I did) I don't really read horror stories.

And now I'm just going to be mean. For those of you who didnt know, the author, Joe Hill, is the son of Stephen King. There was a period of my life when I liked/loved Stephen King books. Hell, my daughter wrote a thesis about his writing for her literature course - mainly because she knew the books well, having grown up in my house. Heart-Shaped Box is Stephen King lite [sic]. It is like Mr. Hill has tried to ram every Stephen King book into this one:

I see dead people (The Shining): check
Car (Christine): check
Dog (Cujo): check
Dead Dogs (Pet Sematry): check
The Walking Dude (The Stand/Dark Tower): check
Psychotic Woman (Delores Clayborn/Misery): check
Predicting the future (The Dead Zone): check

And I could go on but I won't. If this is your thing, then this could be your thing. But, read the father's oevre first.

from the balcony

the steep approach to garbadale

The Steep Approach to Garbadale by Iain Banks

According to the blurb on the front of the book:
For any lover of a good story well told, a new book by Iain Banks is always a treat. Imagination, wit, and complexity are his hallmarks.
So, there you go. I suppose I would call this a "summer-read". It isn't that complex, it is fairly light, it has a certain amount of wit, and a bit of imagination. However, it would be best summed up as "fluff".

The book loses its way three-quarters through, suddenly turning into a diatribe against American politics and global warming. This, unfortunately, means that the storyline gets pushed out of the way in the last quarter. Everything the book has been building up to comes off as rather flat.

An OK read. I was hoping that this would convince me to read some more Iain Banks books - on that list, in my mind, I had The Wasp Factory down as something I wanted to read. Now, I'll just wait a little longer until it turns up in the 3 for 2 pile, and I can get it for free.