Pacific Textile Emergency with Ravens — Can you help?

Several days ago I received several emails from Elaine T. regarding the roofs at Pacific Textile Arts. We have a serious problem with ravens pecking holes in our roofs. I'm passing the following email along to the outer world in the event that someone out there will know the answer to our dilema. If you have any knowledge that will help us, please respond, OK? Many thanks. — Jackie

Email from Elaine Todd:

I'm sad to relay this information, Dave from Lifetime Roofing came to PTA while I was attending the spinninggathering this morning. The results of the classroom 

is the seam is pulling apart (Henry's patch job isn't working) and there are at least 200 holes from the ravens, and this could have been there when we bought the
modular. To replace the roof we are looking at about 

$4800. I asked him to clear the gutters on the librarybuilding and there aren't any. There is a dip in the center of the roof where the water pools, the drain 

that we see from below is roofed over so no water willfall into our water catchment system. This roof also 

needs to be re-roofed but it needs to be built up so the water will run off the roof. This is upsetting that this wasn't detected before we spent the money on catching water from that roof. There is samples on the 

desk in the office and literature Dave left with
us. He said he could give us a deal if we do both roofs at one time. Dave will put together an estimate for us listing the buildings separately. Nancy keeps 

saying that we should have been informed and what recourse do we have from Fort Bragg Electric for not doingthe job correctly! When I asked about the raven 

problem he suggested a sensor with a sprinkler system
that will chase the ravens away when they land.
So this is a brief description of our roof problems. 

I'm sorry to have to report all this. Please share 

your responses for all board members to discuss this 

matter. Thank you.

Poor Little Neglected Blog

About to make my big decision

My first meal at the market

I have to laugh thinking of all I've missed in these last years

Endless things to drink

The lady from Tlacalula

The ever smiling painter

The kids are endlessly watchable — Painter in background

Hustle and bustle when you step outside ICO grounds

These pics all from ICO — More to come of the park later this evening

ICO campus walkway

My latest classroom

Coffee shop terrace — My last year's maestra, Ita in purple

Entry to ICO

I've been trying to show Art all the wonders of Oaxaca since his arrival and the unfortunate side of that is the obvious neglect of some writing I actually enjoy doing very much. But we all know that at times like this — Something's gotta give. 

I meant to connect with you all the day I finished my classes at ICO (Instituto Cultural Oaxaca). It was a wonderful, and I think productive, four weeks that I spent there this year. I value it for many reasons and from all sides. I meet people, I progress in my Spanish (no matter what), I get to see and buy some of Manuel's creative stainless steel earrings, I get the exercise and stimulus of walking through Llano Park twice each day, etc., etc. It was fun, enlightening — stressful. So, by the last day, I was ready, exhilarated and full of plans for the next few days before Arthur was expected. He's here now and we're having a great time exploring Oaxaca and environs. 

As I left the ICO grounds I was thoroughly ready to celebrate. I walked the two blocks to the park, crossed over  and smelled all the incredible aromas of the Friday Market at Llano, I made a split second decision to celebrate by breaking a rule I have followed for at least five years. Up to that moment I had made it a policy to never eat at kiosks or outdoor food venders. I've had awfully good luck at never getting sick here and I credit that rule for a portion of my good fortune. But there I was, standing in front of the food stall from the Pueblo of Tlacalula which specializes in barbecued lamb and goat. It smelled heavenly and I sat down on a bench next to three middle aged women who smiled and welcomed me.  I looked at what they were eating and then asked the man who came to serve me what the options were. He showed me a folder with enticing pictures of food from which I chose a mixed bowl of barego, chev and a course polenta like starch. It came along with fresh, hot tortillas and I pulled out a complimentary, undersized can of Squirt I had been offered as I crossed into the crowd at the edge of the venders.  The food was tasty and  a bit intriguing because there were a couple of items I didn't quite recognize. One looked like lumps of black beans glued together and the other was a vegetable I didn't seem familiar with. I ate down through the lovely meat to about an inch from the bottom of the corn mixture. I still couldn't figure out the bean thing so I was a little shy about it and decided that I wouldn't stretch my luck. I was satisfied, had broken a long standing, self imposed rule and was still feeling fine. 

I wandered through about ten booths, still amazed that I had broken my rule. I did my usual watching of the little people driving their rented miniature cars around one of the fountains and then settled in on a bench not too far from the south end of the park. Pretty near to where I had settled was a painter with easel and brush in hand, working at his trade with a magnificent smile on his face. His female partner was almost dozing on the border cement between the lawn, plantings and walkway. People sometimes spoke to him and he seemed to reply cheerfully or stopped to show them some of his work. Then, back to the little easel and never abandoning the smile. How lovely to see someone who is so obviously happy with what he has chosen to do. Just thinking about that, plus watching a series of parents and grandparents walking along and dealing with a total spectrum of tiny people (sometimes tyrants) in a very patient and good humored manner, left me with a constant smile on my face. I kept thinking I should walk on home, but the scene was so captivating and I was feeling so happy, that I stayed on until almost 4:00 in the afternoon. I walked home full of endorphins and the feeling of joy at being here and witnessing so much simple evidence of man's humanity.

Two Spanish Classes to Go!

Color and warmth abound

You can't beat this for color

The views at the Zocala are endlessly fascinating

What an athlete this one is

This girl had talent

Now I hear that this is a dove — That's more like it — Maybe an Inca Dove

This day looking up was so fascinating I ended with a really sore neck

Sometimes I sit and watch the birds even though I can't identify them

Always fun to sit and watch the dogs

Catching a band practice on the way home

A distant view through the park

The wonderful couple I buy sliced fruit and vegetables 

from on my way home from class

Los Danzantes filled with happy people

Pat Parsons enjoying her comida and 

spying what was yet to come

Jim Parsons finishing his after meal coffee drink

 and giving me a long list of books to read

Today's tuna curry comida at Los Danzantes

One month of Spanish class five times a week has been a stretch, a pleasure, a huge learning experience and oh, so much more. But I am ready to relax a bit before moving on to the Jalisco coast. Art arrives here Monday late in the evening and friends keep telling me they have found new places to look for birds. So there will be a whole different focus and no doubt a new learning curve for me. However, I intend to stay relaxed about my lack of skills at recognizing birds, either perched, in field, on water or in flight. They are all interesting to me and certainly beautiful. That will have to suffice while I build my skills, and I'm expecting to be tolerated by my birding friends, including Art. I can't get too serious about my lack of bird knowledge yet because every time I think I have one labeled, Jim informs me that my choice isn't quite right, and kindly explains why. I have to go back to the drawing board. Like the beginning of trying to learn a new language, it's necessary to spend some time in Kindergarten. That's just where I am at the moment.

We'll undoubtedly be covering some of the same territory that I do now, walking through Llanno Park to the Institute for class each day. I'd like to show Art all the places that I'm used to seeing every day in my routine and I will always treasure those minutes and hours spent in the embrace of Llano Park. I never tire of seeing similar scenes there. They are all like variations on a theme. Tomorrow is Friday market day which begins for me by walking right through the breakfast crowd eating the most gorgeous food at long relish covered tables with the mixed smell of salsa, sausage, eggs cooking and every wonderful thing you can imagine. I'm usually in a hurry to move on and make it to class in time. So therein lies one of the big differences between this last month and the pleasures of lingering to enjoy and savor all without rushing that I intend to experience and share. 

One thing that has become a prominent routine is to attend the "Comida" at Los Danzantes Restaurant on Calle Alcala at least once a week. It is one of the most relaxing, enjoyable eating experiences I can conceive of. I love just being in that creatively appointed space. And I find the many surprises associated with the food and its presentation a continually nourishing affair. The staff  is endlessly good natured, easy going and yet highly professional. Along with exquisitely creative cuisine, what more can one ask?

Mike, thanks for checking in. There have been a few days where wifi has been less than intermittent and I have also been preoccupied with Spanish class homework and several other necessary uses of my time. Please know that I'm fine and my cold symptoms are completely gone. I miss you all at the same time while I'm basking in my southern Latin Paradise. Oaxaca is a constantly enjoyable, educational, stimulating and generally satisfying place to be for a month or two. We had our first rain last night since I've been here. It began just as I, along with two friends, walked home from a movie that was shown in the beautiful old Opera/ Ballet/ Theater some blocks away from Hotel Las Mariposas. First a few drops as we walked, and then, as soon as we were tucked into our safe hotel grounds, a more and more vigorous rainstorm developed. I actually heard a few distant thunder claps. I left my door open to allow the fresh, clean air to make its way into my room. It was delicious. And in the morning, all rain was halted and the garden greenery looked shiny and clean and smelled heavenly.

New teacher — Even more of a stretch

Lucia and I with two of the carpets Evelyn bought

I walked into my usual class this morning only to find out that my teacher was switched over to doing some private classes, and doing it in the room we used to meet at with her. So I packed up all my things again and moved one room over as we were eventually instructed to do. Only to find out that my new teacher is the younger sister of the previous one. From Mary Carmen to Angelica. They look exactly alike. Same eyes, same gesticulations, same timber to their voices. Both excellent teachers but maybe just a little less in the way of clues from this one as to what's coming next. Tomorrow will reveal a bit more I'm sure. It's probably really good for my learning curve to have this challenge. But I'm finding myself  in a heavily procrastinating mode. It's after nine and I haven't started my "tarea" yet. Doing this little post is the ultimate last attempt at not looking at what I should be doing right now. So, no doubt you can guess what I'm doing next. Finally. Wish I knew why I'm this way, but I don't really. I only know that I get a lot of things done toward the ultimate good in my everyday life while I'm doing the classic "putting it off,"  Excuse? Noooooo. But true.

 A man who just arrived at Las Mariposas with his wife late last night has been placed in my new class so there may be someone to consult with over homework at a later point. He and his wife were so exhausted after their late night/no food trip that I'm sure they both hit the sack the minute they got away from the Institute. He declared just as this first class with Angelica ended that  what we were doing today is exactly what he needs. Sounds like sleep or no sleep, he's hit his stride a bit sooner than I this week. I'll keep you posted. I'm sure Sylvia and Russ will have a thing or two to say about it if I don't get with the program.

I did make it to the nearby bank for my weekly dole though. For some reason I always feel a bit of anxiety over that chore also. But the bank says I still have some money so that's a comforting thought. As well as the fact that I know how the next meal will be financed. All these little things we take for granted when at home assume a different level of importance it seems when you're out on a trip even if you're doing a kind of long term stay. This is still a holiday in Mexico as was yesterday so there was lots of talk about the need for getting to the bank by sometime yesterday if you wanted to be sure that the ATM would still have the means to fund you. I took a chance on today after class and that little machine came through like a trooper. Good things do happen. 

After I filled my coffers with a new stash, I  went straight to Ke Ken, a favorite little ( really little) comida down the street from Mariposas. A woman came in soon who hails from Alberta, Canada. We struck up a conversation and she switched to a more comfortable place at my table and we had a great time pouring over every political woe we could think of and parted hoping to connect sometime soon. Life down here is like that almost constantly. Eating in Mexico is such a social affair.
Actually, it starts with the communal breakfast here and seems to lead from one encounter to another through the day. It's a fine way of life at least for a little while. I'm posting a picture from another early morning happening several times a week. The mother of last years office secretary comes from Teotitlan and either cooks an organic breakfast for us or comes with a pile of rugs woven by her and her family members. One of her rugs is in my downstairs hall and I'm eager to purchase one of her "bird" hangings or rugs for Art. But I'm afraid to do it until he gets here for fear that I'll make the wrong choice. We'll see. At any rate, she has a creative sense of color and I greatly admire her work. The photo I am posting is of her daughter and me holding a long runner bought at my urging by a couple from Minnesota. I received a rave notice about the choice and a jpg from the happy buyer. Sometimes things really work out. Now to that tarea.

Oaxaca — An urban paradise

There they go

Life isn't always fair — This little one even has a driver

But not for this little daughter of a vendadora 

This  park is for everyone

Everyday scene at Llano Park

Scene at my favorite Llano Park

Post breakfast art activities in the front courtyard at Las Mariposas

Front courtyard fountain and ficus trees about to be trimmed

Pat, Judy and Jim in the covered colonnade of the front courtyard

Just leaving the pass through

The covered passway between courtyards at Las Mariposas

Rod at his favorite table and his Kindle

Jim Parson's well used hammock on the shady side of the wall

Other side of the fountain wall

The rock wall fountain just outside my room

Scene at the organic market last week

If you've ever doubted my adoration for this  cultural mecca, doubt no more. It fills me with awe just walking to the simplest of places. Today I visited with friends new and old in the front courtyard over breakfast and just a little later in the back courtyard where my room is situated. New relatives of a friend from New York were just arriving and checking in with those already in residence. You really do have to make your reservations for the next year almost the minute you arrive or your chances are nil. It is so charming without being cutesy or overwhelming. The owner is a beautiful, gracious woman who goes out of her way to clue us in to happenings of special interest each week.

After the morning visit  I walked leisurely up to the Zocalo, picked out a table at one of the restaurants in the colonnade where I could choose between sun and shade. I took a long time to decide on what to order and finally settled on a "sopa Azteca" and a "Tlayuda sola" to go along with my agua mineral con hielo. The band/orchestra was playing on the other side of the park and well within listening distance.

People float and skip by you while you're sitting there and every moment is a memorable picture. People with babies, people with little dressed baby Jesus dolls because of this weekend's celebration of Candaleria in which children are celebrated, including the baby Jesus. Dogs of every strain are walked with and without  leashes. A man I remember from last year sat on the cement park border playing a super sweet saxophone just as I remember he did when I heard him before. It's nice to have some things not change. A beautiful, tall, slender young woman set up her boom box only a few feet away from me in the middle of the sidewalk. She settled on some particularly lively music and then produced a hula hoop and began a super lively and creative routine. Part athletic calisthenics and part an appealing salsa routine — all the while keeping that hula hoop going muy rapido.

After several hours of enjoying my lunch and the ever moving entertainment passing by me, I decided to walk home on the Alcala, a favorite, action filled walking street leading from the Zocalo back toward my neighborhood. When I reached the corner where the pseudo trolly tour bus commences, I was suddenly moved to ask the price and then hop on for the ride around the central part of the city with full discussion of history, architecture and special points of interest regarding art, craft and, of course all landmarks that had anything remotely to do with Benito Juarez, the hero of long standing in these parts.
What a pleasant and relaxing way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

I'm back in my courtyard with my little Mac Air, writing and listening to a late afternoon bird call. I haven't identified it, but I do think there were two tiny little yellow guys this morning, keeping company with a completely brown humming bird. Sorry Art, that I can't be sure of what they are. I think they may be Lesser Finches. I suspect that the same fellows I saw this morning may be the late afternoon callers. Time will tell and hopefully before Art arrives I 'll know the name of something more than the  Sparrows ( I'm told by everyone that they are House Sparrows) that seem to own the area in the front courtyard where all the food is dropped around the breakfast tables. I know they're very common but I'm fascinated by the males particularly because of their vivid, dark markings beneath their bill and neck area. I'm just not a taxonomy person at heart but I'll try to know something before you get here, Art. After that, I'll be thrilled to have you do the naming and all that goes with it.

One more thing about today: Happy Birthday, Chuck. Apple mail (or my MCN server) has moved you along and off of my mail archive list so I'm depending on family Chuck to receive this greeting and pass it on to you if possible. Email me, please, so that you'll be back in my archive. OK?  I also need for Jean Pierre to email me as well because his address has fallen off the same cliff. Oh, the inexplicable electronic age we live in. Love to all,  Jackie