I love siesta time in Chacala. Lots of thoughts come into my head during my lazy afternoon siesta times. There's time to watch the world go by, and to reflect. And daydream, and think about the past. And sometimes my reflections are kind of startling for me. I just had a flashback to the days of my youth.A minute ago, I was about to run down to turn off the town water facuet, for th, when Zule, my youngest downstairs neighbor came walking up the road. I think she was coming from her and Juan’s fruit stand on the beach, to cook lunch.Anyway, I called to down and asked her to turn the water off, and she looked up and smiled and did it. She is 20, the same age I was when I started living with my husband-to -be. T was the same age, 26, as Zule’s husband Juan, is now. I had just dropped out of U.C. Berkeley, and T had been in college and then became a Navy pilot and then sailed his boat around Hong Kong and the South China Sea. We were both at extremely loose ends. Looking for adventure, I guess.

We started a firewood business. Cutting down oak trees, chain sawing them up, splitting the chunks, and delivering and then stacking the wood at wealthy peoples homes in Carmel. We collected the money, and had fun spending it. At least I had fun. T was more of a saver.(An aside). When we had the firewood business, for about six months, we lived at Bill Lambert’s Jamesburg Ranch, at the far end of Carmel Valley, CA. Another 15 miles up the worn out dirt road was Tassajara Hot Springs. When we were in the area it was an old run-down place, visited mostly by beatnik/hippies and old German couples. Tassajara became a San Francisco Zen Center retreat facility a few years after we left the area.

The firewood project was my first “serious” business venture, and I learned a lot. Mostly about hard work. T. was a sort of father-figure for me (having never had a father) and I thought he knew everything. And he knew a lot. And was a great worker. And very kind.(Another aside) One day, in November 1963, we came back to our ranch cabin for dinner after a long days work, and I turned on our little radio. The announcer said something about “President Johnson”. I turned to T and our friend Paul, and said “Who’s President Johnson?”. It was the day that Kennedy was shot. We listened to the radio off and on for the next three days, following the action. We didn't have a TV then, or for years, so I didn’t see the film footage of the assassination until years later.
Anyway, when I see Zule and Juan working at their rolling pineapple stand down on the beach, I can’t believe that’s how old Tom and I were. Just children, babes in the woods. Dreamers wandering through the world, exploring. Having great philosphical discussion. Reading reading reading.

Looking back, I am kind of amazed we did the things we did. Going all over the country, often in “drive-away” cars (delivering cars to people, and returning repossessed cars, etc). Living in New Hampshire and Hialeah, Florida. Eastern Washington, Idaho Panhandle, Near Taos. Good times and strange times.

It’s funny, those days I never wanted to leave the U.S. I was even kind of afraid to go to the Caribbean. It was too scary. Strange food and strange language. Now I would go everywhere if I could swing it financially. Well, almost anywhere. And I LOVE my life in Mexico.