Un Huracán con ZIHsmo

The price of living in paradise. Everything you reported is true! No pool or beach time for us today, but it is still paradise.

And we had another earthquake last night. A 4.2 in La Unión.

Back in the days before we had satellite imagery and weather reports in our pockets, lots of people here would get the weather report from what the Sector Naval posted on their wall at the plaza in front of the pier. Those were our only warnings of what to expect.

Lupita and I have lost count of how many of these hurricanes and tropical storms that feel like hurricanes we've been through together, but there's still nowhere else we'd rather be. There's something exhilarating about taking a walk during this kind of weather.

When I lived at the end of La Ropa Beach and was still courting Lupita, it rained liked this for about two weeks solid and there was no public transport through the then muddy road through La Huerta at La Ropa, so after not seeing my sweetie for two weeks, and after too many shots of mezcal at Rossy's, my local mutt Hershey and I set out one late afternoon down La Ropa Beach for town while the rain wasn't falling so hard. Of course I was quite a mess when I showed up at Lupita's doorstep drenched, reeking of mezcal and covered in sand and mud. I swore my undying love to her and told her I couldn't go that long without seeing her, and that we belonged together. She helped me get out of my raincoat and muddy boots and brought me a towel. Then I lay down on a small rattan couch on the ground floor of her home (that later became our home) and I told her I was going to spend the night there so I could be close to her. Of course, her parents weren't too pleased to see me. Lupita was amused and flattered by my crazy devotion, but she had to get me out of her home and on my way. So after letting me rest briefly, she gave me something to eat and drink and let me dry off a bit, then after a few hugs and kisses it was back outside with my dog and we were on our way back to La Ropa. The rain started back up in earnest, and the little canals along the way where the water flows through the beach to the ocean that I had easily crossed earlier had become raging torrents. I got past the first one next to the Catalina, one by Villa del Sol and another by La Perla, but the one in front of Casa Arena looked deadly, and I had visions of getting washed out to sea. So I walked back to La Perla and cut through their closed restaurant to reach the road leading back to the beginning of the La Ropa road through La Huerta. It wasn't paved then, and the mud was so bad no vehicles had attempted to get through it for days. But I had my Navy raincoat, my utility work boots, my small Maglight flashlight, and my trusty dog Hershey. About halfway through La Huerta the mud got deep, and I literally had to sort of wade-crawl through it. Somewhere along the way my flashlight disappeared in the mud and I never found it, but I made it back home okay in one piece with my beloved's kisses still fresh on my lips and another adventure in paradise under my belt.

https://youtu.be/tgYDzoSgRXY