Lately, I have found myself slumped over my laptop longing for the good old days when a handful of friends could get together and kibitz at someone’s home or a local bistro just to fill up a lazy afternoon and empty a few tumblers.

Without any warnings, I find out a record number of  people in Mexico believed they’re possessed and are seeking exorcisms. This is worrying, because all I have in my bodega is some raccoon repellent. And it never worked.

As everyone who has been to lakeside’s north shore knows, the Carretera is the only artery to thread through all the many small villages that surround the lake, and, as a result, is often choked with traffic, traffic signal breakdowns, cement trucks driven by former stunt drivers, and, recently, roadside excavations almost as deep as the potholes.

Remember when you stared curiously at a tag on your pillow or mattress that forbade you to remove it, or, in my case, dared me? To me as a teen-ager, it seemed just an innocent pillow.

If you think about all the people whose names you’ve forgotten, it can be quite embarrassing. Especially for the people you’ve forgotten, some of whom were once important people in your life.

The latest figures from Mexico’s Central Bank (Banxico) show that 2017 broke records for receiving remittances from Mexicans abroad.