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If someone had asked me a week ago what I miss most about the midwestern United States, my list (excluding family and friends) likely would have included Target, Fannie Mae chocolates, after-Christmas sales, big slabs of red meat, front porches and back yards, and the changing seasons.

There’s a house I walk by on my way to the Friday market. It sits on a double or triple lot but is not prime real estate because it also sits directly across the street from railroad tracks.

My grandson has a very specific wish list for Santa. Batman and Play-Doh. No surprises. No binoculars that he’s been talking about since September. Just Batman and Play-Doh.

I spent last weekend with my daughter, her husband and my two grandsons in the magical mountain town of Tapalpa. It was an excellent trip, with fun shopping, a quaint hotel, the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, and scenery completely different from the cityscape of Guadalajara that I’m getting used to.

The day will come, I suppose, when I’ll find myself thinking in pesos instead of dollars. When that $169 price tag on the scarf at the Galerias Mall won’t feel like sticker shock.

“No hablo español,” I explained to the driver as my daughter left after giving him our address and some general directions for getting me home.