Senor and Linda Lou have been in Pueblo Alamos, Sonora, Mexico for 8 years. Okay, okay, now it's been 9 years.
Every day brings a new discovery.
They are still working on the casa............Senor says, it won't be long.........but Linda Lou says, it won't be long until what..............stay tuned to find out what's next.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Last Night

Buen Dia everyone. Here is the sky this morning. And wasn't I just telling you yesterday how quiet it was, how unusually quiet it was?









Around 5:30, Alamos came to life. First someone drove through town playing a trumpet. I did not recognize the song.









Next, one of the political parties, with a caravan of around fifty vehicles drove through the barrios, whooping and hollering and honking their horns. They did not come down our street, but they roared up Allende, and across the back yard and the yard behind us, I could see the trucks passing by and the beds filled with red shirts, the red party.









When they were done, the blue party drove through the barrios, doing the same thing.




Afterwards, there were a few fireworks and just the typical street and barrio and rooster and donkey noises.









And still, no rain. The humidity skyrocketed.









We took a short walk and looked at the new house that is going up on Allende. It looks like a hotel, but we aren't really sure. Back home we decided to open a can of oysters, slice some cheese and pickles and watch the new season three of 24, which we just bought in Tucson. Our laptop would not let us change region codes, so just sat and listened to the crickets.









Around eight, an evento began on Chihuahua. This sounded like a live male singer to us, with a very good back up band. At the beginning of each song, were the loud screams of love sick teenage girls. It reminded me of the Beatles arriving in the US in the sixties. The screams eventually would die down and then suddenly, during a particular song phrase, they would start up again. Whatever the event, it certainly sounded exciting.









Then, around nine, it started to sprinkle. Then, it started to pour. The thunder and lightning crashed and pierced the sky constantly. They battled each other, one threatening the other, one determined to outlive the other, one determined to be loudest, one to be brightest. And they fought like that for three hours.









I could not find the cats. I opened a large umbrella and stepped out of bed into several inches of water. I went out to the flooded garden room, realizing the power was out and a river was running across the floor and out to the asadero. The wind blew my pretty mexican candle lamp off the wall and when it hit the cement it sounded like a shotgun. I called again and again for the cats. Glass from the candle lamp was all over the floor. The lightning showed me a yard filled with running water. The streak lightning hovered over the backyard and I was too afraid to go back across the open floor to get into the bedroom again.









Finally I made a quick dash to the door which had locked behind me, so I rushed back to the garden room where my keys were lying on the tabletop. The streaks were back and they seemed so close, I was now even more afraid to go back across the water carrying the umbrella.




So I closed it, ditched it in a corner, and ran again to the bedroom door, hoping I would not attract any lightning. I was able to get the door open, fall soaking wet into bed and curse senor who was snoring away there, sleeping through all of this racket. Cookies crawled up on the bed and curled his dry self beside me and finally, Ashes came out from under the bed as well.









I checked my cell at 12:43am and all I could hear was a little breeze blowing, thunder losing the battle in the distance and sheet lightning quietly making her presence still known as she moved farther and farther away from Alamos.









This morning I was up early. Water covered the bedroom floor and had soaked into my bolsas of clothing and paperwork that I had yet to unpack from the trip north. In the kitchen/work room, water had flooded under the doorway as well and was reaching the refrigerator. Some boxes on the floor had soggy bottoms. I laid down as many towels as I could to begin soaking it all up, took a look at senor and the cats, all three sleeping in a pile of sheets, Ashes snoring louder than senor and went for a walk.









I was fearful for the arroyo in the Chalaton behind us. I certainly thought that was alot of rain.




As I walked back there, a truck drove by me and the man inside began playing his trumpet. Other than the sound of his horn as he drove on around to Galeana, it was very quiet. At the arroyo I was surprised to see it fairly dry. A few small puddles here and there, but already the morning heat had dried it up where it had not soaked into the soft ground.









As I stood there I saw a little white pony slowly walking up the arroyo. He came right up to me and nudged his head into my shoulder. I just stood as still as I could and looked at him. He was not much taller than I was. There was a rope around his neck and the frayed end hung to the ground. His white hair was matted and filthy with red and brown dirt. He stood so still with his head in my shoulder. I will say if there was ever a time I wished I had my camera with me, it was right then.









I was so close to taking hold of the rope and leading him home, to our stable and suddenly, he nudged me again and then, he turned and walked away, down Chihuahua.









By the time I got back home, the rivers in the yard were beginning to dry up, the water in the two rooms was almost evaporated and senor and I began a little clean up.








I swept up the glass from the beautiful candle lamp we bought years ago in Puerta Vallarta. We took out the rug and laid it across the asadero so it would dry. I laid out all the wet papers and books, including my little Alamos phone book. It really upset me at first to see it so wet, but now, it has dried and is usable again in a very crinkly state.


I began what became four loads of laundry, took our comforter which had been in a big pillow bag on the floor, down to Dolisa to have the senoras wash and dry it for me in their big machine. I swept everything, pulled out all the wet shoes from under the bed, rearranged the big shelves so I would have a safe place to put the comforter once it came home, petted the cats who would not come off the bed, laid on the bed for a brief nap. Then I loaded the back end of the truck with all the wet boxes and cement bags that had blown out of the stable and across the yard and sent senor to the dump, made myself a latte and read a magazine for awhile.

There has been no rain during the day today, but there is a feel about it. It is like yesterday felt.

I walked by the evento this morning also and through the garden gate I could see the pretty white tablecloths were still on the tables. Green and red glass ware centerpieces were still on the tables. I could only imagine that all the screaming young teens must have had to make mad, crazy dashes through the rain and thunder and lightning to their parents' cars... will they get a rain check?

And even more importantly, did the little pony make it back home? Will he have some shelter tonight? Hopefully whoever he belongs to will realize last night must have been really miserable for him.

Oops, the trumpet is playing. I can hear it farther down on Durango, but traveling away, towards the north somewhere. Over on Allende a political truck with a loud speaker just went by.
See? It is the start of last night again......

I am thinking we will have another very big rain tonight. I am very prepared if it happens.

5 comments:

Steve Cotton said...

We complained of the rain in the Pacific Northwest, but our friends there will never know how many projects a rain storm can create,

Julian in SC said...

Wow, sounds like Senor will have some "monsoon" water barriers to create / build. Gotta be some way to keep out all that water each time you get a huge thunder-boomer!!

Thanks for sharing your experiences with all of us...

Julian

1st Mate said...

Julian is right: Water barriers or water channels or both! Ahora mismo! Before the rain starts again.

At least now you know: if the cats are missing in a storm, look under the bed first. Poor babies must have hated it when the water seeped under there.

Chrissy y Keith said...

Geez, that sounds bad. Glad the kitties are alright. Burford would still be hiding. He hates thunder and hears it coming long before we do. Keith and Senor sound like they have similar sleep habits. Keith once slept through a gun shot blast inside his tent while caribou hunting in Alaska. His hunting buddy was wakened by a bear in camp and had no choice than to fire a round inside the tent. He finally got Keith to wake up in time to hear the bear retreating across the river, see to hole in the tent and smell the gun smoke. Keith said it took no time at all to fall back to sleep. Men.

Ian Huntington said...

As the house progresses further along there will be less and less water inside. What a wonderful, exciting rain! You captured the conflicting emotions I feel in such a storm and drama of life in a small Mexican pueblo.
Wish I were there!