It can be rather disconcerting to be passed by floating logs on the downhill run to Comala from the village of Suchitlan where I live. Going home from Colima against the rivers of water in the main streets of Colima and Comala can be rather exciting also. This afternoon, as I was slogging up the hi-way (carraterra) from Colima to Comala a boat of some odd origin came zooming down the hi-way on the wrong side with a group of rather exuberant imbibers and passed me on the wrong side but with a generous apology thrown to the winds and the Gods that protected them. The water, up in the engine compartment of my high, heavy-duty ¾ ton diesel made incredible sounds as it and the fan made contact and we moved on. When I got to the half way point between the periferico and Comala, the local police waved me to a stop at their caseta and asked me if I had seen a boat go by? They were hysterical and maybe a bit oiled. I said yes & they said that they had sent one of the officers with the boat to ask for assistance in directing traffic. There was no way in h--- that anyone could have gone to their assistance unless they had a rig as big as mine. Anyway, I made it home, tossed back a shot of tequila chased with a very cold Tecate and lime. The river below my house is resounding with the crashing of logs, rolling boulders and crashing trees from the landslides along the banks. Sitting on the patio listening to the sounds of storm really is fabulous when I think of all the people in the states waiting for paychecks, house payment bills, doctor bills, etc, etc. And they keep wondering how much they have saved for the future. Don’t wait too long I think. You wait too long and then you die when retirement comes. All you ex-pats are really in the best spot in the world.