The Unit Three Gang goes back to their favourite snorkeling haunt. Davey says he will come back and get me if I want to go. He tells me that since it’s their last day, he wants me to come because he’ll miss me. I get tears in my eyes. I am very used to having them as my next door neighbours. I can’t believe it’s nearly time for them to go. But I resist and stay behind: I want to get some work done. I have to keep reminding myself that I am living here, while others are here on vacation.
Later, when they get back, Vince and I have lovely pasta-and-leftovers at their place. The red wine is delicious tonight and somehow the tequila shooters go down extremely well. Everyone gathers at the ocean to toast the Unit Three Gang’s health and safe return to Canada. We have a rousing game of left right centre and then we’re off to bed.
I have a bit of a difficult time when they leave in the morning, especially saying good-bye to Leedalo and Davey. We decided we’ll have to have a family Easter event, even if it’s not exactly on Easter. They go off to Colima for a big festival, then will head for Guadalajara on Sunday, where they’ll fly to Toronto.
We spend a few quiet days on the beach, watching Mexico TV:
Crabs on the Beach (the Sequel): A fairly large fellow grabs a huge piece of seaweed in his pincers and dances it across the sand to his hole. We watch with bated breath as he tries to stick it into his tiny lair. He’s unsuccessful, so Vince decides to help him. Just then an enormous waves hits the beach and washes all the seaweed away.
Pigeons at the Swim-up Bar: It’s only a swim-up bar for the pigeons. For us, it’s a series of posts that separates the deeper side of the pool from the wading pool. It really looks like a swim-up bar, though. The pigeons stand on the “stools” and drink the water. While I’m floating around, my drink and book propped up on my boogie board, two pigeons alight on the cement. One goes to the swim-up bar and has a long drink, while the other tries to stick his/her head in the pool from the side. Once he is full, the pigeon at the bar shuffles over to the other one and warbles away. I imagine he is telling his companion that it’s much easier to drink from the posts. Sure enough, the second pigeon waddles over, stands on the stools, and takes a long drink. Before this moment, I was unaware that I can speak pigeon.
Surfer Waves: The big, thunderous Kahuna waves are back. They are mesmerizing! The young Mexicans thinks so too – they hop on their boards and meet them feet-first. I wonder if some of the explanation for their lack of inhibition is the scent that is wafting over the fence next door.
Mucho Calor: Jésus drops by and comments on the weather. He has to work, so it’s a little different for him; we are happy that it’s hot and sunny and breezy. There are no people on our beach, so he hasn’t been around; he is spending his time at Miramar. He just stops by to shake hands and say hola.
One Person’s Garbage: A young man lingers around our umbrellas. We guess that he is asking if we have any work for him, but he simply wants our used cans. This has happened once before, when Deanna and Paul were here. It was an older man that time, who bowed and clapped when Paul brought him a big bag of our used pop and beer cans. The young man is also very grateful when John brings out a garbage half full of our old cans. We are happy that we can recycle and perhaps give someone a little extra money too.
Ships: The harbour is really busy this year. We have watched tankers, cruisers, tugs, and other enormous vessels travel in and out every day. Most are rusty orange and black, some a deep blue; they are rectangular, square, flat and fat. They don’t usually stay long, parking for a couple of days until their turn in the harbour, but sometimes they are there as long as a week. From one right out in front, a big long flat one with cranes everywhere, come the clangs and clinks of repair. Another ship sits beside it, as though trying to give it life. Often at night we hear the rumble of the engines as though the earth is moving beneath us.
Desperate Housecrabs (Mondays only): We’ve never seen this before, so we assume it’s because we’re usually at Miramar on Mondays. The crabs are house cleaning. They dig up the sand from inside their holes, carrying it on one side with all their legs, then they dart outside and throw the sand sideways. Next they tamp it all down with their pincers. Little do they seem to realize that the next wave will just fill it all up again.
Sunset Strip: The sun sets in a different way every night. Sometimes behind the clouds, often in a fiery haze, now and then melting straight into the sea. We are sitting at El Caribe having shrimp for dinner on Valentine’s when the sun melts.
Family Day: We skype with Kim and Dave; Mike, Rita, Laura, Steven, Rose, and Margaret; Kristen, Ben and Cate; and Tanya. We sit on the beach with our other family and think about the rest. It’s a lazy, hazy, quiet, golden day. There’s going to be cold beer on the beach and chicken and potatoes from the Manzanillo Swiss Chalet for dinner tonight!
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