Over the last few years, both Joe and I have found ourselves with Snowbird parents, of a sort. My mum is pretty good at it, she rents a place by the ocean in Puerto Morelos, Mexico, for a month each winter. Joe’s parents are really good at it, and they have a place in Ajijic, Mexico where they come for several months a year. For a few years now, I’ve been going to be with my mum for a while every time she goes, and Joe’s been making a point of visiting his mum. I go to my mum, he goes to his, divide and conquer – it works really well, except that he doesn’t visit my mum, and I don’t visit his, which is a shame because I really like Joe’s parents, and he really likes my mum. Still, we had it all under control.
Then this year my mum rented her place for slightly different dates than she usually does, and that ran into two work things that I had to do – and so my daughters all went down to visit my mum, and Joe planned a trip to his parents, and I… didn’t. That was until a few weeks ago, when Joe realized that if we tweaked things just a little bit – if he came and went at slightly different times, then I could go with him. It seemed too good to be true, but it was, and on Sunday afternoon (having wrapped up an awesome Birthday Bash for Ken) we got on a plane and flew to Mexico City, and on Monday morning
we got on another plane and flew to Guadalajara. A short-ish drive from there, and we’re tucked into Joe’s Mum and Dad’s house in Ajijic, and we get to stay until Friday Morning, and we are having a pretty nice time. We are living like retired, snowbird Canadians for five days, and that means that for the last 24 hours we have been the youngest people present just about everywhere we’ve gone. (This is a refreshing thing to try in your late 40s, and I highly recommend the feeling it gives you in a bathing suit.) Today we went to some hot springs, and last night out to dinner, and right this very minute, things are very tough indeed.
That’s a finished Capture, hanging on the chair in the background. (You would not even begin to believe how fast things dry in Mexico.) Two skeins Woolfolk Far, one skein silk cloud, and I’d show you a modelled shot except it’s 28 degrees and nobody here is putting that on their body. You would not even believe the way that mohair sticks to sweat. (Maybe when we’re back in Toronto I’ll enlist the Worlds Top Knitwear Model.)
It is soft, and gorgeous and perfect, much like visiting your in-laws is, in my case.