Why am I trying so hard to make this work? It can be so discouraging. I’ve never functioned particularly well in the heat, but more seasoned bloggers testify to the body’s ability to adjust to the heat. I’ve only bought one house in my life, the one I’m in now, so I’m not experienced so much in house hunting. Ask me if I’m handy around the house, go ahead. I reflexively run to the phone to call the super when a light bulb is out, but alas, there is no super.
But the timing just seems so right. Between us, I think we can do this. We know the language (somewhat), adore the culture, love the food, and as our bones start to age, crave the sun and heat more and more. Right now, as I write this, I nestled on my sofa, wearing flannel everything, and my feet are buried in a comforter trying to find warmth. The gray skies are doing nothing to illuminate the pink magnolias, so magnificent two days ago, and now quickly fading. A rain front is coming in from New Jersey. An approaching rain front is good news in Merida right now, but not so much here, where a cold and soggy spring is our reward for a treacherous winter. The snow and ice have kept me indoors. My knees and my neck have never felt so stiff. I’m expecting Merida to hold healing properties. Am I expecting too much?
Yesterday I brought home a pack of pesos from Citibank. My teller was Mexican, which I took as a good luck omen. The exchange rate isn’t quite as favorable as before, but still strong. I was cheered by the slips of colored paper, which somehow transform into legal tender when the plane lands. Plane reservations, airport parking reservations, newspaper vacation stop, currency exchange, guesthouse accommodations, check. Now, wait wait wait for takeoff.