About a week ago an e-mail from a good friend arrived saying she was looking forward to "coming home", meaning she was coming back to San Miguel. The word "home" struck me as a bit strange, for she is not Mexican, not by a long a shot, but a true Texan, who sprinkles her drawl …
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Overture to a rain dance
It is ungrateful for anyone in San Miguel to complain about the weather here, which is about as mild and even as you can pray for. No Chicago-like deep freezes or Houston-like saunas. Particularly in the past couple of years, when there have been floods, tornados, blizzards and other disasters in the U.S., our weather, with …
Somewhat sleepless in San Miguel
Last week yet another e-mail arrived, this one from my former boss in Chicago, inquiring how we were holding up amid all the violence and bloodshed reportedly wracking Mexico. I'd like to reply that, ha-ha, except for the bother of having to wear bulletproof vests and helmets every time we drive to the grocery store, …
The case of the missing gay gene
Among the many stereotypes about gay men, a common one is that we all have fahbulously good taste, particularly in interior design. It's in the genes. It comes naturally.When Stew mentioned to his brother on the phone that we might be hiring an interior designer he heard his sister-in-law jokingly shouting in the background, "You …
A House in the Country
In March 2006, approximately four months after arriving in San Miguel, a tiny two- or three-line classified ad in the real estate section of the English-language newspaper pointed us toward open land outside the city and upended our notions of what kind of house we wanted to build. Ultimately the deal fell through but along …
San Miguel in a Bubble
Stew and I had visited San Miguel three times before we finally moved here in 2005, and arrived armed with the notion--I'm not clear based on what information--that a house in San Miguel could be had for somewhere around, say, $250,000.And not any house, mind you, but an authentic, centuries-old colonial with an interior courtyard, …
The Jungle Gyms of San Miguel
On Nov. 1, 2005, Stew and I took off from Chicago to Mexico, driving a VW Passat station wagon crammed to capacity with suitcases and sundry junk that spilled over into a shapeless roof carrier held down with ropes. Think "The Clampetts Head for Mexico." Along for the five-day drive were our two cats, Ziggy …
El Rancho Santa Clara 