Okay. Time to go back to Mexico.
Yep. The medification of those waters has finally bled itself out and I need to renew my prescription.
If it were only that simple.
Well, it's not, is it?
Last night, when I was trying to figure out whether or not to call the Coast Guard, I started aimlessly going through the Cozumel My Cozumel message board in hopes of stray pictures of anything soothing.
Especially pictures like this:
That's actually the beach at Tulum, which is across the water from Cozumel but hey- same ocean, same blue, same palms, same peace.
Oh, what the hell am I bitching about? I've got roses in bloom and I've got baby chickens and I've got a hen on the nest who may or may not be hatching some more babies.
That's Miss Flopsy. She's been on the nest for days. I assume there are eggs under her. I am not about to stick my hand under her body to check, though. I've never yet had a hen hatch me out any eggs so this would be a new and lovely experience.
The babies we hatched in the incubator are getting big and it's time to put them outside in a protected situation so they can scratch in the dirt. Mr. Moon built them a cage thing the other day but he's not quite finished with it and it's too damn big for me to move. I had envisioned something smallish- there are only five babies- but you know Mr. Moon. He found some building materials and went for it and he's offered to put it on wheels for me because yes, it's that big.
But he's in Orlando today. He got up at four and made that drive. He got there safely. Now all he has to do is endure the chaos of the auto auction, hopefully purchase a car and then drive back home. Four hours of road between here and there. For him, anyway.
He'll be fine. He'll get home sunburned and exhausted, but he'll be fine.
So I've got roses and I've got baby chickens and I've got two grandsons up the road if I can't live without some of that sort of love. I've got everything. Every thing.
So why am I going through old pictures and seeping tears? Why is the portal between here and there dissolving quietly in my mind?
I'm such a wimp. I am such a whiner. I am such a crazy person some days.
Well. Another thing I have is a walk before me through the woods and down the road and under the trees and beside the horse farm and the sky is very blue and I need to get my feet back under me here, where I actually am, and weed and hoe and clean and wash and tidy and sweep and pull up my big girl panties and cowboy up, Cupcake, and quit looking at pictures and just get on with it.
I wish I knew exactly what was making me feel this way, giving me this yearning, longing, sadness.
Well. It's all always inside of us. Every bit. The joy and the terror and the fear and the contentment and the memories of every thing that created those feelings originally, even if we don't have the visual images to call up, either in our minds or with the photographs. It's all still there and sometimes the boxes holding it all just get bumped and the insides tumble out and there you go- a mess to go through and clean up and we do and I will and Elvis crows I am here, I am here! and Miss Flopsy sits on the nest and the roses open and the magnolias down the road are putting their white blossoms out for display in the sunlight but somewhere, some where south of here over the water and over Cuba there is an island...
Oh god. I'm just a mess today. That's all there is to it.