I’m not sure if this is some kind of divine retribution, but I have come home from Mexico with one hell of a cold (thanks for sharing, Mike.) and into the worst cold spell in Saskatoon since, well, the last one. With windchill it was -51 degrees Celsius yesterday, which is damned cold in Fahrenheit. Poor little Wallace never even made it off the deck before he peed, and Attie has decided just to enlarge her bladder through sheer willpower rather than go outside at all. I’m with Attie.
Sickness aside, we had a lovely time in Mexico. This is what we saw out our window in the morning:
and in the evening:
Yeah, we roughed it. We stayed with Mike’s folks (otherwise we’d have been in somewhat less opulent surroundings). Mike golfed, and I did a little shopping. The highlight was the day we hopped on a local bus (always an adventure) and rode to Punta de Mita, where we ate lunch in a little restaurant (4 tables) where the barbeque was manned by a woman from Texas, and then we hired a boat owned by Rudy from Innsbruck, and rode out to the Marietas Islands. We saw 40 or 50 humpback whales, stingrays leaping out of the water (like large neoprene stones skipping), sea turtles, birds, bottlenose dolphins. It was wonderful. To our credit, we even remembered to reapply sunscreen.
One afternoon, a sea turtle crawled up on the beach right at the resort, and oblivious to the dozens of people around, dug a hole, laid a clutch of eggs, and crawled back to the ocean. Now it took me about 10 secods to type that, but it took her well over an hour to actually do it. Once the eggs were laid, the resort security guards stood watch until someone from the turtle hatchery came to collect the eggs. They’ll be cossetted until they hatch, and the baby turtles will be released under safe controlled conditions, to decrease the mortality usually associated with the initial 50 foot crawl to the sea. Heck of a way to reproduce- talk about no responsibility.
Andy assured me that there was only one party while we were gone, and as far as I can tell there was no damage and nothing has gone missing (except some rum and beer). The dogs were fed (but I don’t think he brushed their teeth) and the neighbors report no police visits. Whew.
I did some knitting while we were gone:
Airport knitting. Standing up by necessity. (The Puerto Vallarta airport, while nicely expanded from our last trip, is sadly deficient in the seating department.) Mike rolled his eyes, but I enticed at least three other knitters into conversation. I win!
The shapeless blob is this:
Modifications: Using different yarn, different gauge, not doing the ridge row called for in the pattern because I forgot to do it the first time around, and was too lazy to go back and put it in. I’m almost at the part where I take off the sleeve stitches and then knit down (and down and down), then do the sleeves after. No seams, and it should go well with my jeans. (Is it sad that an almost-50 spends her entire life in denim? Maybe so, but I’m so comfortable. I may even wear my flannel-lined jeans to a funeral this afternoon. Such is my devotion to fashion.)
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and make lunch for Mike’s brother who is here for said funeral. I hope he’s not a picky eater; there is precious little food in the house as I’ve been too delicate to go to the store. Macaroni and cheese coming up.