Behind me, fresh rainwater surged down Calle Terraplen like a full-blown arroyo wash. The rain beats a staccato rhythm on the roofs of curbed cars. I was inside Hotel Hacienda El Santuario’s nearly empty dining room, chilly but dry.

On the small table before me was a hot cup of black coffee and a curious but tasty postre of cornbread topped with ice cream, caramel sauce, and chopped nuts.

Not more than 20 feet away, through the archway into the open-air courtyard, pianist Javier Garcia-Lascurian and cellist Guillermo Sanchez Romero were working their way through a heart-rendering version of Saint-Saëns’s “Le Cygnet” (The Swan). Huddled along the barely sheltered walls of the courtyard sat the hardiest classical music audience I’ve ever seen. Some had umbrellas up to supplement the scant coverage of the eaves.

Given the circumstances, how cool would it have been if Garcia-Lascurian and Romero had reworked the entire program on the fly to feature water-themed music? Perhaps, excerpts from Debussy’s “La Mer” (The Sea) to follow “Le Cygnet,” and Ravel’s “Jeux d’eau” (Fountains), followed by Handel’s “Water Music” and Chopin’s “Raindrop Prelude”? 

Not to be, of course.

But how amazing that this concert even came off, seeing as it isn’t supposed to rain in December.

As concert promoter Luis Eduardo Quezada of the Music Society of San Miguel was reconfiguring the concert seating, I sat with my coffee and thought back on this day.

And, you know? It turned out pretty darn good. 

I pulled out a little notebook and wrote “Bob’s really good day …” at the top of an empty page.

‘MORNING BECOMES ECLECTIC’

It started off normal enough, a few explosions in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the big-ass honking horn blast my neighbor’s car makes every time the door is opened.

That got Moppit and me out the door for a walk on the early side, and that in itself is an accomplishment given that Moppit, rather than walking, now prefers to get up at 10:30 p.m., Midnight, and 3:30 a.m. and bark to be let out the back door.

I’ve taken to doing angled pushups against the kitchen counter as I wait for her to return. At 3:30 am, I managed 60 pushups. She must have been having a good time in the backyard. Doing what, I have no idea. It can’t be all pee and poops.

I was able to make some headway into my daily morning routine – Strands, Wordle, Connections, The Mini, and Spelling Bee – all New York Times puzzles that are supposed to keep your mind sharp.

Seriously, I think they just distract from how old and achy I feel in the morning while I pour copious amounts of coffee down the guzzler, like Valvoline (“to thicken oil, reduce consumption, and quiet noisy engines”).

I just make it in time for Rose’s Pilates floor class atop the Hotel Posada de Las Monjas on Canal. Twice a week. Sure, I grumble, but I can’t imagine not doing this class.

I’ll have to pretty quickly as Rose is retiring from teaching next week. It has to do with her beautiful new granddaughter in Chicago and the need to help her daughter and son-in-law get off to a glowing start on parenthood. Rose is like that, you know. She is all in on being a grandmother.

I love that in her. (Backstory: Rose is my wife of nearly 14 years.)

After class, some friends suggest trying a nearby Pilates reformer studio – three times a week. The teacher is like a Zen guru, I’m told. There are also some nearby gyms – and I have some ambitious plans for 2026 that will actually require me to be in shape. (More on that later.)

EATING SO OTHERS MAY EAT

My usual routine after class is to walk up to La Buena Vida panaderia for a scone and fruit empanada, and a cup of black coffee. I walk straight across Ignacio Hernandez Macias and into the Belles Artes courtyard, where I find a comfortable chair for an hour or so among the lush greenery.

Today, I skipped the calories and just walked up to the Jardine Principal to watched the tourist groups assemble for the guided history walks around Centro.

Good thing, too. I learned there would be no Mass at noon in the Parroquia San Miguel de Allende.

That meant that the adjacent hot lunch program where I volunteer on Wednesdays, So Others May Eat (SOME), would be filling up fast and early with hungry seniors. I abandoned my park bench in the cool shade and strode into the cheerful chaos of SOME.

Guests were already walking in, and we were still waiting for deliveries of tortillas, pastries, and bread. Salads had already been made for the usual 120 guests. Bananas were on trays. Volunteers were carrying vats of rice, broccoli, chicken, and mole to the serving line. Others were slathering a buttery cheese spread on half rolls. The mysterious white beverage we serve right after prayers was ready to go.

Even the musicians showed up a little early to serenade our guests.

And the guests kept coming. And coming. And coming. We ended up with 145.

Time for the “loaves and fishes” miracle – salads need to be robbed to fill 25 more. Pastries needed to be divided until we had 145. One chicken leg instead of two was served until we were sure we had enough. Some bananas were halved.

Somehow, no matter how many people show up, everyone gets served.

Normally, it is the best part of Wednesdays for me.

But wait, there’s more.

PUTTING A PARTY ON

I met up with Keli Silveyra at her recently relocated restaurant Silveyra’s at Zacateros #41. Popped into the back to say i to her husband/chef/partner, Ruben, and then we sat down to talk business.

I mentioned that Rose is retiring?

Keli is helping me, Gina Bradley, and Mary Ann Guest to put on a reception for Rose Alcantara on January 8, from 2-4 p.m. Entertainment manager Mike from the adjacent food court is also helping in a big way.

We’re going to use his incredible Bendito Mercado behind Silveyra’s restaurant to make it happen. There will be champagne, Silveyra’s nibbles, cake, music, and hopefully sampler platters from the many cool bistros in the mercado.

And hell yes, you are invited.

No tickets or fees. Just e-mail me at robertj.hawkins2012@gmail.com to rsvp for a head count.

While we were talking shop, I had one of Ruben’s delicious Monte Cristo sandwiches and watched Narae Kim Ellis’s Wednesday Gameboard Day gang roll the dice, flip the cards, and nosh on lunches. 

There is so much going on at the new Silveyria’s – live music, cultural events, trivia night, LGBTQ night, and more – in conjunction with the Mercado.

I walked home on light feet despite the Pilates, table waiting, and general walking around town. It felt like stuff was happening, unfolding in just the right way.

MIXING AND MATCHING FRIENDS FOR THE GOOD

Then the good news came when I got home: My friend Glynis Palazuelos is joining with an architect friend to improve the life of an elderly family in the campo.

You may have read here recently that Glynis is helping a family with food, clothing, blankets … but what she really wants is to upgrade the house made of pallets, tin sheets and plastic tarps. She is an architectural designer, but she needs the help of a licensed architect to draw up plans.

Enter JC, an amazingly talented architect with a big heart. I can’t wait to see what they come up with, and just maybe, it will be scalable enough to help other families in need of shelter. Well, one house at a time.

This was just great news that two talented friends can combine forces to do good.

In between all this, I wrote two short pieces for a daily newsletter  made up of curmudgeonly retired newspaper types like me – one on the mundanities of ironing your own clothes and the other on the State Department’s decision to revert to Times New Roman typeface on all documents, because it found the sans serif of the Calibri font too “woke.”

The ironing piece was so mundane that I submitted it to the Dull Men’s Club on Facebook, where it got zero reaction. Appropriately enough.

OTRA! OTRA! OTRA!

Which brings me back to the little round table with the hot coffee in Sanctuario’s dining room.

This wasn’t the note on which Luis wanted to end 2025 for his Music Society of San Miguel, but it is the one the gods of weather decided to play. Instead of sheets of music, we got sheets of rain.

But you know, everyone just rolled with it. While we waited, I met a published author, a flautist who plays Brazilian music and jazz in town, and a couple who are promoting music acts at Sanctuario, among other venues.

Javier Garcia-Lascurain and Guillermo Sanchez Romero performed exquisitely under trying circumstances. Some Bach, Schubert, Saint-Saëns, Samuel Squire, Andrea Bocelli, Disney, Morricone, Queen — a varied dish served warmly, took the edge off the night’s chill.

And the audience, we stayed! 

And many of the hotel staff were drawn to the performance as well. In dry weather, this is going to be a cozy and enticing venue for chamber music performances such as those Luis Quezada promotes so passionately.

Speaking of which, this year MSSM produced 13 concerts, plus three with the Festival of the Arts, San Miguel. 

Walking home for the second time that day – a little colder and wetter walk – my heart was bursting with gratitude. For San Miguel, for the Pilates teacher whom I love, for the creativity that fills this town, and the people who populate it.

That’s it. No wisdom. No homily. No conclusion, as it begins again the next day.

Just gratitude.

And before I turned in for the night, the New York Times games got finished, and in Duolingo Spanish, I moved out of the annoying Demotion Zone.