... are actually my favorite time of the day here. Up at 2:30 today, crashed at 8:30 last night. We sleep in the RV (with the A/C) as that bed is comfy and the futon in the casita is NOT. I go over to the casita and make coffee, boot the computer, and peruse my list: today is laundry. Later. There's a gazillion stars outside and the salt air is so soft. Sometimes I take my coffee up on the roof and sit, listen, look. Not today, still overwhelmed with huge itchy welts from the No-See-Ums and not anxious to get more. My body seems to be organizing a mass revolt or coup or something. Insect bites become life forms of their own, and the last time I got stung by a bee I nearly died. (Now I have Epi Pens everywhere. Today I might crochet/felt a holder for one so I can wear it around my neck.) And what's up with the skin? More of it, looser, spots, mottled, dry. My hair decided to part on the opposite side one day, just like that, after all these years.
Found a bag of yarn here in the casita (we bought it furnished, surprises galore. Who has TWO steam irons?) One skein was washable wool, the label said, so I didn't think it would felt. I made a quick little amulet bag yesterday with it and it felted beautifully. I never thought that one day I would painstakingly crochet something only to intentionally scrub the crap out of it in very hot, soapy water to make it shrink. I have a dozen or so new "items" to list on Etsy for sale, but can't because I couldn't mail them if they sold. The mail system in Mexico is corrupt, very few things arrive unmolested. Maybe RVers will buy them at the resort craft sales.
Think I'll spend the morning on the beach today, although I should do laundry or drive to the village for produce. I like to saunter, love that word. The pace is important, slowly so I don't miss a pretty shell or juicy clam. The beach is piled high with debris from the storm, and I poke at it with a stick. I'm usually the only one there, several miles of solitude and debris to poke.
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