DON"T BE SUCH AN ICEHOLE!

Readers of this blog from Australia, Yemen, and other countries have urged it to continue ---- so I'll try to put out an update once a week and see if that prevents an international incident! 

If the Inuit have 100 words for "snow", around here there are 100 words for sunrise, awesome and different every morning. The thaw brought some water in the basement, but not from cracked plumbing --- any guesses out there?? The first lakes freighter coasted by, bound for Wisconsin to pick up a load of coal. Crocuses and snow drops insisted on emerging, snow or not! An old tree trunk is full of holes, evidence that a big pileated woodpecker bugged out all winter. And the annual first sightings of deer, turkeys, fox, mason bees, robin, eagles, blue jays ---- even a mourning cloak butterfly fresh from overwintering in the underbrush!

While Pat was doing something useful (shoveling tracks so the van can come up the hill), Rick was playing with his tool ---- making an icehole of himself on the pond. Moments after the picture was taken, he went through the slush up to his ______? Maybe you Australians or Yemenis out there can suggest the word I'm looking for.

But wherever you are, may that special Bunny bring you treats and joy this weekend!

SAND TO SNOW, AND LOST IN THE MIDDLE

It's great to be home! Yesterday morning we left the blistering white sands and today we're in blinding white snow. But there's always the devil in the details. We were ready for the marathon of connections and changes to get from cAncun  to kemBle, like slow-motion stones skipping on flat water. But a first awaited between Atlanta and Toronto...

The faux-Mayan docks faded from the windy-sunrise  fast ferry when we left Thursday at dawn. A crowded collectivo ride to the city, then a crowded bus station, then the airport bus, then a shuttle among terminals. Go To Three, and Do Not Collect 200 Pesos because the exchange rates are so bad. From the air the turquoise waters looked like deep velvet framing tropical jewels.

But! During the long layover at Atlanta, we were given an offer we couldn't refuse. Our Delta flight to Toronto was overbooked, so how about a deal ---- take $400 in future flight credits and we'll put you on a later Air Canada flight? (Easy choice --- we could either wait 3 hours in Atlanta or 3 hours in Toronto!) So we took the deal, got the chit and were assured our 2 pieces of luggage would be transferred along with us. Not. 

We arrived in Toronto with less than an hour to do customs, get luggage, and find the 11pm bus to Owen Sound. But Pat's backpack was missing. Questions, paperwork, suspicious customs ("did you REALLY have fabric and vanilla in that pack, or 10 kilos of Mexican snow??"). First-ever flight bump, first-ever lost luggage. Welcome home! Worried, hungry shuttle bus ride, arriving in the cold and dark and snow of Owen Sound at 1:30 in the morning.  But "the darkest hour is always before dawn" (Shakespeare or Crosby, Stills, and Nash??). After a zonked-out sleep at Hotel Dianne, Air Canada advised that the bag had been found in a bar in Atlanta, watching March Madness with the rest of the country!

I repeat, it's great to be home. Had to shovel snow, get the van going, trudge groceries up the hill, prime the pump, and wade through 3 months of mail. But the air is clean, the exercise exhilarating, and the deer laze in the yard like they own the place --- which they have for the last 84 days!

(This is the last blog post until another adventure comes along. The Blogspot website's stats advises me there are readers in Brazil, Indonesia, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Australia, Yemen, Russia, India, Mexico, and several countries in Europe, as well as hundreds in the US and Canada. Thanks for following, and stay tuned!)

FISHY FIERY FAREWELL

This is our last full day in Mexico, tomorrow at 6a.m. we start a 28-hour hop skip and jump to get home. Went out to another snorkeling spot but high waves and silty water made for foggy barracudas. The best views of other fish were in the shallows where people were feeding them! Had the ritual last supper at open-air Jax (spot Pat on the top level?), for half-pound burger and fries. My bad.

Across the street was the nightly gathering for sunset (first day of spring today, the sun is due west!). But the sun's fire had some competition ---- fire-twirlers, fire-hula hoopers, fire-jugglers. Performance art? Film students? Don't know, never saw them before or since but they could make mucho pesos busking in town.

The sky's fire won out in the end, lighting up cloud edges like white icing on grey cake. We're packing up tonight, happy to be going north.

PAT-RICK DAY TRIATHLON: BIKE! RUN! SWIM??

A fireball of a sunset last night seemed to predict the hot and hectic day today, another worldwide celebration of St. Pat-Rick. (Did I spell it wrong, again??) With the luck of the Mexican-Irish, we got into a totally unexpected triathlon, sort of. First we did the bike part, except it was an hour's rental of a 125 Honda to tour the outer peninsula.

Then this morning a running club event took over the main shore road. See the sign --- it says 14 APRIL! Maybe it was last year's sign?? Anyway, it had all the usual roadrace bits, including a guy who ran the whole course balancing a soccer ball on his head, and cheers for all the finishers.

But the best spectacle of the day was at our snorkeling cove. A pastor and flock from the Church of God  arrived for what looked like a church picnic. Instead, a sand-side service was held with singing and preaching. Then the group gingerly walked over the rocks and 4 of them were baptized in the sea! I felt like cheering and clapping for each, like at a swim meet, but the only sound the locals made was the click and whirr of their cameras. Do you think they went out for green beer after?? Would you, with salt water up your nose??

SO-S0 BUT SOON SEW-SEW

Only generalities to report during this past week, the second-last of this 3-month trip. Took the reliable slow ferry to the mainland on Tuesday. Wouldn't you know it rained off and on, making long hikes wet but not wild. Revisited some old haunts like a Hungarian Hamburger joint: closed til 2 pm :( ! And a favourite park where a mosaic mural was going up. But the only successful errand was when Pat got colourful fabric for her sister to sew dresses for lucky little girls among friends and family. Sewing is still a huge activity among Mexican women, with many fabric shops crammed to the ceiling with more types of fabric than the Pope has cardinals.

Speaking of the new Pope, the news here was greeted with church bells ringing mid-day. But even this very Catholic country is cynical: the former Pope has been called "Joey the Rat" and the new Pope "Franky from the South End".

Otherwise, here are the headlines. Rick gets blood pressure checked, orderly's hair resembles Little Richard. Surf's up during recent winds. Rose from Eva's funeral committed to the sea. Pat exchanges paperback novels in hotel lobbies. Mexico's first hostel, Rick's crashpad over the years, still here ----- PocNa. Sand piling up, like surf in winds mentioned above. Many old Honda motorbikes on the island, but no one wants to sell. As I said, all the news is so-so/sew-sew!