Monday, May 12, 2014
Where Am I?
In the midst of my doing a bit of this and a bit of that out in the yard today I stepped into the poor, sadly neglected garden to notice that one row of potatoes were spent, meaning it was time to dig them and also that the few pea vines the chickens have not managed to eat from the outside of the fence had finally made peas.
There. Part of that will be our dinner tonight. All of the peas, certainly, and a few of the potatoes. I plan to make a white sauce for the peas and potatoes. I will cook some mushrooms to go with the peas and they will be delicious. They are sugar snaps so the entire pea can and will be eaten. I dug the rest of the row of potatoes and although not greatly impressive in number, I am grateful for them.
I got as much done today as I could and Hank brought out Anna and we walked around and I showed her where the various animal foods are and so forth and then we visited for awhile. I went to town to look at that house and stopped by Lily's house on my way home. Owen said, "Mer. You got new glasses."
"Yes, I did," I said. "Do you like them?"
He studied my face for awhile and then he said, "They're sort of weird."
I agreed but offered the fact that I could see out of them very well.
"You can keep them," he decreed.
The young chicks stayed close to and within the hen house again today, huddling together in a corner when each of the big hens did her cackling call to Elvis after laying an egg to come and collect her. So far, Elvis has not given the young'uns a second glance, as far as I can tell so I suppose that all is well there.
My stomach seems to be in a perpetual state of not-quite-wellness and I do not know whether to attribute that to this bug I must have had or to the tiny bit of anxiety I have about getting ready for the trip. I do not mean "anxiety" in the way I meant it a few months ago. Nothing like that at all. Just your normal, every-day, garden-variety pre-trip nerves. Whatever. It will be fine.
Why is it so hard to tear that thin fabric between "here" and "there"? Even as I yearn for us to be packed and on the plane, to see once again the jungles of the Yucatan come into view, I look outside from my back porch and see the late afternoon light as it floods the pecans, the magnolias, the lush green of this year, watch the cardinals at the feeder, listen to the coo of the doves as they settle in for the evening, and I know this is a hard place for me to leave.
It truly is a matter of two different worlds. One is a real home, the other a spirit home and even today, as I was talking about Cozumel with Anna, I teared up. She said, "It's good to hear you describe it the way you do because I've only ever spoken to people who've gone there on cruise ships."
And of course the part of Cozumel you visit when you stop off there from a cruise ship is a completely different Cozumel than the one I've come to know and love.
Oh Lord. Eat the worm.
Not that I've never enjoyed dancing at Carlo's'n'Charlies myself, but...
I have never eaten the worm nor accepted any of the rotgut tequila squirted from the wineskin either and yes, all of that is another story.
So I am jumping back and forth from being-here-now to being-there-soon and my stomach is unsettled as it probably should be from dizziness alone.
But for this moment, I am enjoying the light, the green, the birdcall, the idea of eating peas and potatoes from the garden. Today, peas and potatoes, in three days, black beans, tortillas, and pico de gallo, papaya, mango, sopa de lima, chilis relleno.
Okay. Where was I? Oh yeah, I need to scrub potatoes.
I think. Here I am. I think.
I am so confused.