back to the beach

Well ain't that just how things go?

It sort of hit me out of nowhere that maybe I would like to move back to Mexico. So a couple weeks ago I emailed some friends and asked them if they would be keeping their spot at our little trailer park on the Sea of Cortez. I like their space because it has a big screened-in room and a bodega (storage room). I also knew that there was a phone line to this particular site.

I figured that if my friends were keeping their space, I would make a commitment to this here town, stop thinking of it as temporary.

I left it up to the universe. Whatever.

My friends skyped me and said they wouldn't be renewing their lease. I talked with the park owner and no one else has dibbs on this space so it's mine. The only glitch could be DSL but I actually think that will be worked out. I told the owner I would be there the first of March.

So there you go.

I really don't look forward to getting the trailer road ready. And I really don't look forward to traveling through Mexico by myself with my home in tow. But those are all mental/lazy barriers I put up and I know that once the wheels are rolling, I'll be okay.

This town was temporary. I felt that from the beginning. Being here enabled me to get a job, gather new friends, join a writing group, and have new eyes installed.

So it's back to Mexico. Back to the beach. Back to my two short blond friends (the dogs). Back to fresh shrimp and fish tacos. Back to no butter or lemons. Back to bobitos (gnats) and Man 'o Wars. Back to muffler-less cars and vegetable vendors with loud speakers. Back to margaritas under blood red skies. It feels right.