My mother Claire, passed away a year ago. She was born on November 1st...All Saints Day. We called her Saint Claire.
I've been surprised that I haven't felt connected to her the way I thought I would after she passed. After all, we were the best of friends. Actually, the connection was other worldly at times. We would have similar dreams on the same night and immediately call one another the morning after to share our thoughts. So many shared experiences...
Well, she sent me a little nudge today from beyond. I found a tiny photo album and on the cover it says "Appetizers, Snacks, Hors d". Inside were all the recipes we enjoyed at her table.
So, in honor of Saint Claire, I'm going to share some of her recipes this month.
JEZEBEL
8 ounces of cream cheese
12 ounces of pineapple preserves
12 ounces of apple jelly
5 ounces of horseradish
1/2 small can of Coleman's mustard
Ground pepper.
Mix all the ingredients except the cream cream together. Pour over the block of cream cheese and serve with crackers.
Feel free to substitute the ingredients if you can't find them. She would have done the same. Just make sure you've got the sweet and hot vibe going. The cream cheese balances it all.
A little sweet, a little spicy... just like Claire.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Real Estate Agents in Merida ... Good vs Evil
Realtors have a bad reputation. I know that all too well.
That said, I consider myself an ethical person, I think I do my job very well and plan on working as a Realtor when I move to Merida.
Unfortunately, I've heard about some less than stellar agents working there and wondered how there can be such a disproportionate amount of bad seeds in one industry. Maybe is just a case of people griping more often than complimenting.
When I started my search for a home, I read everything I could find about the various agencies and agents working in the area and made my decision based on correspondence I received and the timeliness of the agents' responses. I realize that things happen in Mexico at their own pace and so I appreciate it all the more when someone gets back to me in a timely manner.
I was looking for an agent who would make suggestions rather than expecting me to simply supply them with a list of homes I found on the Internet. After all, they know the market much better than I. In the long run it paid off. My broker worked hard to find the right house for me. There were a few kinks in the beginning (like showing me homes that were twice my budget) but we were able to work things out in the end.
I've learned a lot from my mistakes and try to learn from other people's too... so here's your chance. I'd appreciate you sharing your good and bad moments while house hunting in Merida. It will help me do my job better.
It's open season..have fun with this, but no names please.
There
That said, I consider myself an ethical person, I think I do my job very well and plan on working as a Realtor when I move to Merida.
Unfortunately, I've heard about some less than stellar agents working there and wondered how there can be such a disproportionate amount of bad seeds in one industry. Maybe is just a case of people griping more often than complimenting.
When I started my search for a home, I read everything I could find about the various agencies and agents working in the area and made my decision based on correspondence I received and the timeliness of the agents' responses. I realize that things happen in Mexico at their own pace and so I appreciate it all the more when someone gets back to me in a timely manner.
I was looking for an agent who would make suggestions rather than expecting me to simply supply them with a list of homes I found on the Internet. After all, they know the market much better than I. In the long run it paid off. My broker worked hard to find the right house for me. There were a few kinks in the beginning (like showing me homes that were twice my budget) but we were able to work things out in the end.
I've learned a lot from my mistakes and try to learn from other people's too... so here's your chance. I'd appreciate you sharing your good and bad moments while house hunting in Merida. It will help me do my job better.
It's open season..have fun with this, but no names please.
There
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Training for Merida
When you're looking for a home in Merida during the winter months, it's easy to get a bit concerned about whether or not you will be able to deal with the heat when you finally make Merida home. The horror stories about the heat sound pretty intimidating.
I've read blogs written by expats offering advice on dealing with the heat (dress comfortably and wear clothing that will wick the sweat from your body)...make sure your prospective home has good air flow (if you don't have a budget to open up interior and exterior spaces this is VERY important)...consider the direction your new home faces are you an inside or outside person). All great things to keep in mind.
After all is considered, the reality still remains that you're going to have to face the inferno eventually.
When I was in Merida in early May there were a few days where the temperature reached 100○ and I thought I'd melt while working around the house with only one floor fan. We were still having some unseasonably cold nights in New York...40º nights... and I wasn't prepared physically or mentally for the heat in Merida.
They say you should never go grocery shopping when you're hungry . I've decided to have seven fans installed in a 1,100 square foot home. Can't hurt.
Well it's July now, and a few weeks ago it was hovering around 90º or more. I have no air conditioning in my house or in my car and the AC at work was not working well. The ceiling fan at home died last summer and I haven't had a chance to go out and buy an AC unit or fan. Amazingly, it's not that bad. My good ol' house is staying cool enough, the dogs aren't panting like mad and I'm starting to think that the Merida heat isn't so scary after all.
August might have me singing a different tune but for now I feel like I'm in training and might just be ready to face the monster when I finally make the move.
Now mosquitoes. ..that's a different story.
I've read blogs written by expats offering advice on dealing with the heat (dress comfortably and wear clothing that will wick the sweat from your body)...make sure your prospective home has good air flow (if you don't have a budget to open up interior and exterior spaces this is VERY important)...consider the direction your new home faces are you an inside or outside person). All great things to keep in mind.
After all is considered, the reality still remains that you're going to have to face the inferno eventually.
When I was in Merida in early May there were a few days where the temperature reached 100○ and I thought I'd melt while working around the house with only one floor fan. We were still having some unseasonably cold nights in New York...40º nights... and I wasn't prepared physically or mentally for the heat in Merida.
They say you should never go grocery shopping when you're hungry . I've decided to have seven fans installed in a 1,100 square foot home. Can't hurt.
Well it's July now, and a few weeks ago it was hovering around 90º or more. I have no air conditioning in my house or in my car and the AC at work was not working well. The ceiling fan at home died last summer and I haven't had a chance to go out and buy an AC unit or fan. Amazingly, it's not that bad. My good ol' house is staying cool enough, the dogs aren't panting like mad and I'm starting to think that the Merida heat isn't so scary after all.
August might have me singing a different tune but for now I feel like I'm in training and might just be ready to face the monster when I finally make the move.
Now mosquitoes. ..that's a different story.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Two Fathers
It's Father's Day and I'm feeling the way I often feel on this day.
My father was born in Dubrovnik in 1926 and the family immigrated to New York City not long after. Actually, my grandfather had opened a candy store in the Hell's Kitchen prior to their arrival. The candy store fronted a pool hall and I remember my mother telling me that my father would work the streets as a shill for his father. I can picture 1930's New York and my father luring men off the streets for a bit of wagering and the hopes of making a few dollars during the height of the depression.
Eventually my father went to work for TWA and became the lead reservation agent for the main office in Manhattan. My grandfather was so proud.
My father died two days before Christmas in 1961. I was 6 years old. My brother was 8. My mother was only 32 years old. For many years I relied on the memories of other family members to learn about my father. They helped fill in all the gaps and helped to "flesh out" the man we missed so much. Daddy had moved to another country, learned a new language and had a happy life there.
In 1964, my mother went on a blind date with a widower 10 years her senior who had a 16 year old daughter. Three months later they were married. I had a very difficult time adjusting to the new man in my mother's life. I gave him a hard time...I pushed him away both emotionally and physically. He was a great opponent.
Pop would eventually become as influential in my life as my mother was. He was the voice of reason, never raising his voice, always treating us and our friends as intelligent, thinking adults (even when we weren't). He was the one our friends would turn to when their own fathers didn't get it. He adopted my brother and I when we where in high school.
I remember him sitting on the steps in front of our house in New Jersey as I drove off to Washington State with my new husband. It was 1977. I was only 22 years old leaving to parts unknown, 3,000 miles away to start a new life. He had his arm around my mother and had a smile on his face.
It makes me happy to know that he would be just as thrilled for me as I leave one day to make my new life in Merida.
I've been blessed so many times in my life and having two fathers is a blessing I cherish today...and every day.
My father was born in Dubrovnik in 1926 and the family immigrated to New York City not long after. Actually, my grandfather had opened a candy store in the Hell's Kitchen prior to their arrival. The candy store fronted a pool hall and I remember my mother telling me that my father would work the streets as a shill for his father. I can picture 1930's New York and my father luring men off the streets for a bit of wagering and the hopes of making a few dollars during the height of the depression.
Eventually my father went to work for TWA and became the lead reservation agent for the main office in Manhattan. My grandfather was so proud.
My father died two days before Christmas in 1961. I was 6 years old. My brother was 8. My mother was only 32 years old. For many years I relied on the memories of other family members to learn about my father. They helped fill in all the gaps and helped to "flesh out" the man we missed so much. Daddy had moved to another country, learned a new language and had a happy life there.
In 1964, my mother went on a blind date with a widower 10 years her senior who had a 16 year old daughter. Three months later they were married. I had a very difficult time adjusting to the new man in my mother's life. I gave him a hard time...I pushed him away both emotionally and physically. He was a great opponent.
Pop would eventually become as influential in my life as my mother was. He was the voice of reason, never raising his voice, always treating us and our friends as intelligent, thinking adults (even when we weren't). He was the one our friends would turn to when their own fathers didn't get it. He adopted my brother and I when we where in high school.
I remember him sitting on the steps in front of our house in New Jersey as I drove off to Washington State with my new husband. It was 1977. I was only 22 years old leaving to parts unknown, 3,000 miles away to start a new life. He had his arm around my mother and had a smile on his face.
It makes me happy to know that he would be just as thrilled for me as I leave one day to make my new life in Merida.
I've been blessed so many times in my life and having two fathers is a blessing I cherish today...and every day.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Sara and the Elephant
I know that I should include photos with my posts but unfortunately I'm not one to pull out my camara when I probably should. You'll have to close your eyes and imagine...
I was in Merida the first full week of May with mi hermano and cunada. They loved the house, warts and all and helped me tremendously getting a few basics together.
I had set up back to back appointments with contractors, architects, solar suppliers and landscapers early in the week but unfortunately many of those appointments had to be canceled. Instead of finding out my options on solar powred hot water heaters and what types of trees and plants I am dealing with in the courtyard, I found out how wonderful the medical profession is in Merida.
Prior to leaving, my brother banged his knee, aggravating a 40 year old surgery. Within 36 hours of arriving it was decided that he needed to see a doctor. My Broker was kind enough to contact her husband's orthopedic doctor and she drove him off the Centro Medico de la Americas. I was with an architect and couldn't go with him...and an hour later received a message telling me that it woukd be too difficult to find the hospital and he would meet me back at the hotel.
That wasn't going to happen. I took a taxi to CMA and went to the emergency room, politely addressing the receptionist. "Mi hermano es aqui y muy alta." She and everyone else working there smiled. Motioning me to follow her, we walked through a few hallways until we came to an atrium with a long hallway. About twenty-five local residents lined the long hallway and at the very end were two long legs stretched out across the hall. At 6'8" it's never been difficult to find my brother.
He was glad I came, and so was I. The doctor's waiting room was small and filled with extended families waiting for loved ones to be seen by the doctor. After about an hour we were able to find seats in the office.
The only other people waiting was a man about my age with a young girl. It never ceases to amaze me how well behaved children in Mexico are. The young girl was about 8 years old and busied herself thumbing through magazines that had nothing to offer a little girl. When she had gone through all the available reading material, she sat next to me. Not speaking Spanish as well as I should, I decided to communicate the best way I know how.
I asked the doctor's receptionist if she had paper and pen. Slowly, I started to draw the outline of an elephant... making sure my little friend could see. After the elephant was done I drew a tree and a few flowers and handed her the pen and paper. Without much hesitation, she started to complete the drawing with a happy sun, birds and a pond.
This lead to more paper and more drawing. Cats, dogs, rabbits, flowers.
Before she left, she started to write some letters...the kind I remember writing when I was her age. Outlined and bold with designs scribbled in each. She handed it to me and it simply said "SARA". We never exchanged a word, but we definetely enjoyed our short time together.
And my brother? He left with a diagnosis, x-rays in hand, a prescription and relieved of only $136.00 of his hard earned money. It ended up being a good day for both of us.
I was in Merida the first full week of May with mi hermano and cunada. They loved the house, warts and all and helped me tremendously getting a few basics together.
I had set up back to back appointments with contractors, architects, solar suppliers and landscapers early in the week but unfortunately many of those appointments had to be canceled. Instead of finding out my options on solar powred hot water heaters and what types of trees and plants I am dealing with in the courtyard, I found out how wonderful the medical profession is in Merida.
Prior to leaving, my brother banged his knee, aggravating a 40 year old surgery. Within 36 hours of arriving it was decided that he needed to see a doctor. My Broker was kind enough to contact her husband's orthopedic doctor and she drove him off the Centro Medico de la Americas. I was with an architect and couldn't go with him...and an hour later received a message telling me that it woukd be too difficult to find the hospital and he would meet me back at the hotel.
That wasn't going to happen. I took a taxi to CMA and went to the emergency room, politely addressing the receptionist. "Mi hermano es aqui y muy alta." She and everyone else working there smiled. Motioning me to follow her, we walked through a few hallways until we came to an atrium with a long hallway. About twenty-five local residents lined the long hallway and at the very end were two long legs stretched out across the hall. At 6'8" it's never been difficult to find my brother.
He was glad I came, and so was I. The doctor's waiting room was small and filled with extended families waiting for loved ones to be seen by the doctor. After about an hour we were able to find seats in the office.
The only other people waiting was a man about my age with a young girl. It never ceases to amaze me how well behaved children in Mexico are. The young girl was about 8 years old and busied herself thumbing through magazines that had nothing to offer a little girl. When she had gone through all the available reading material, she sat next to me. Not speaking Spanish as well as I should, I decided to communicate the best way I know how.
I asked the doctor's receptionist if she had paper and pen. Slowly, I started to draw the outline of an elephant... making sure my little friend could see. After the elephant was done I drew a tree and a few flowers and handed her the pen and paper. Without much hesitation, she started to complete the drawing with a happy sun, birds and a pond.
This lead to more paper and more drawing. Cats, dogs, rabbits, flowers.
Before she left, she started to write some letters...the kind I remember writing when I was her age. Outlined and bold with designs scribbled in each. She handed it to me and it simply said "SARA". We never exchanged a word, but we definetely enjoyed our short time together.
And my brother? He left with a diagnosis, x-rays in hand, a prescription and relieved of only $136.00 of his hard earned money. It ended up being a good day for both of us.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Thinking Inside the Box, Part II ~ Crayons, Tape and Scissors
My friends who own the wine shop are away for six days in Ireland and I've been baby-sitting the store for them. This makes for very long days but also time to play when there's a lull in the afternoons.
I decided that I'm going to build my Merida home here in New York...room by room. The diorama I did showing how I'd like to see the kitchen and bath gave me a good feeling. It fleshed out my ideas and I think it's do-able.
I've been perusing so many sites looking at color palettes. I was fairly sure that I didn't want to go with whites and neutrals. The house is small, there are very few plumb walls, and I've always been happy with color. I found a home on a Merida architects' side that had THE colors! Deep, vibrant greens, blues and yellows. I'm not worried about whether or not my artwork will "go" with the palette. Thirty years ago I saw a bumper sticker that said:
I've lived by that thought ever since.
The living room is fine the way it is with the exception of concrete furniture but I can have new cushions made and be happy. The ceiling height is about 14 feet which makes me very happy. That was the one feature I would not compromise on when looking for a home.
It's the "garage" that's had me thinking for weeks now. It is only 6' wide with a lower ceiling, it's somewhat dark and the first thing you see when you walk into the house. I thought skylights might work and considering that the roof needs to be resealed, now would be the time to make a change.
Then I got to thinking, why not make the space completely open? I'll have a nice garden view from the kitchen and living room and still have a place to leave the bicycle.
With all that being said, below is my "mini vision". Colors aren't quite right...I was limited on the selection of Crayolas.
I forgot how much fun is is to draw.
I decided that I'm going to build my Merida home here in New York...room by room. The diorama I did showing how I'd like to see the kitchen and bath gave me a good feeling. It fleshed out my ideas and I think it's do-able.
I've been perusing so many sites looking at color palettes. I was fairly sure that I didn't want to go with whites and neutrals. The house is small, there are very few plumb walls, and I've always been happy with color. I found a home on a Merida architects' side that had THE colors! Deep, vibrant greens, blues and yellows. I'm not worried about whether or not my artwork will "go" with the palette. Thirty years ago I saw a bumper sticker that said:
"Good art doesn't have to match the furniture"
I've lived by that thought ever since.
The living room is fine the way it is with the exception of concrete furniture but I can have new cushions made and be happy. The ceiling height is about 14 feet which makes me very happy. That was the one feature I would not compromise on when looking for a home.
It's the "garage" that's had me thinking for weeks now. It is only 6' wide with a lower ceiling, it's somewhat dark and the first thing you see when you walk into the house. I thought skylights might work and considering that the roof needs to be resealed, now would be the time to make a change.
Then I got to thinking, why not make the space completely open? I'll have a nice garden view from the kitchen and living room and still have a place to leave the bicycle.
With all that being said, below is my "mini vision". Colors aren't quite right...I was limited on the selection of Crayolas.
 |
| Wish I could move the concrete furniture |
 |
| The garage doors are iron & glass which I think will be perfect for the new garden |
Monday, April 8, 2013
Thinking Inside the Box
I received my first quote for the repairs and renovations for mi nido and surprisingly they are not overwhelming.
While I knew a pool would not be in the budget right now, I was a bit disappointed that cedar doors are also not on the horizon. First lesson on living in Merida...have patience.
No matter how much effort was made and many translations offered, the first contractor insisted that a pergola is a fountain. We'll work that one out later. But the confusion got me thinking that in the end, it's my responsibility to get my vision across.
I want to remove a 3/4 wall that separates the kitchen and a bathroom. The bath is larger than I'll ever need. Because the toilet and shower are separated by a door, and the sink is already where I want, I thought I'd incorporate the sink with a dressing area...opening up the entire back of the house.
I had a lot of time on my hands the other day. And scissors. And tape. And a ruler and marker.
I need to find two really tiny dogs to put in my diorama.
It actually helped to flesh out the room.
I'm bringing my wee diorama with me in May. It's collapsible so I'll throw it in the suitcase should I need a visual aide when speaking to the other contractors.
I think my next project will be the courtyard and pergola.
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