Sunday, March 11th, 2018

Mexico/Maine continues

I think I may have been in a period of writer’s block.Then again, I may have just been in the United States!! Or in the hands of a technological jester.Or maybe good ol’ Mercury is in retrograde again.(Why is Mercury always blamed? And always in retrograd).

Hells Bells. I feel like I just swam the English Channel to get to you. I will leave for Mexico on Tuesday. I hope it will be as idyllic as that sounds. I have been on a bucking bronco of activity ranging from wonderful connections with adult kids and grandchildren to a bazillion “nigglies”. “Nigglies” is my formal word for the little things that pick and bite and sting you until you do the damn thing. Now that I’ve said it, I can feel a new list forming.

I registered two cars that took two days going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth among, car dealer, insurance agent and city hall. I went to the dentist, the functional doctor, the tax accountant, got a hair cut, the eye doctor, got new glasses (way too fast. I think I bought a pair that belong in Alice in Wonderland), three birthday parties and took care of my granddaughter with many sleepovers and saw my good friend twice. And I had the kind of dinners out and conversation with my two nearby adult kids with the kind of good food and conversation that you remember. I’ve forgotten. Am I complaining or bragging????

I do know this. The US moves very fast. The daily speed is hyper. And, for the record, Mexico is not the siesta stereotype imagined. But there is a more human pace. Also the United States, or Maine, is so tidy. I was struck by how clean and neat (and gray) it looked. My Mainers thought I was nuts. They only saw the ugly leftover snow and droopy bushes and yellow, mud smeared grass. Neat mud smeared grass is what I would say. The ringing phone is much more active here in the US. Not cell phones. They are universal. The extreme telemarketing is shockingly intrusive after time away. I may switch to only cell except that I would never be able to find my phone. The grocery stores in Maine are phenomenal—especially Hannaford! New England neighbors are ready to help in a crisis but privacy is held high. In Mexico, as I’ve told before, I am often joined in bed in the morning with kids and babies and the women we work with. There is always a quick knock—with no pause. Privacy is not held high. Connection is.

I’m smiling. I want to say, “Thanks for listening. I feel better.” Isn’t it amazing that what is truly weighing heavily becomes lighter with the telling of it. Which is probably why I write. And why having readers matters. I love the phrase that Victorian authors used —“Dear Reader”, which you are.





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