MeXscape

It was the last truly beautiful day of the season here in Fort Worth: 77 degrees, light breeze, sunny, and no humidity. We were a little bummed because we were supposed to be in California with my family visiting my Grandmother, but Chuck’s work had decided that they couldn’t live without him and cut his vacation short.

So far, the hardest thing we have had to deal with is the reaction of friends and family. Responses have run the entire spectrum from brutal to beautiful. My mother said, “I’m not coming to visit you.” That’s it. One flat statement. Nothing else. I have tried to broach the subject a few times since, but she definitely does NOT want to talk about it. We got an almost identical reaction from Chuck’s grandparents: “oh? We won’t visit you. Have fun.”

The most common question we have been asked when we say we are moving to Mexico is, “Why?”, so I thought I’d gather some of our reasons here. It’s not actually a top ten list, that just made a catchy title. These are in no particular order.

So we were originally thinking we were going to take up residence in the central highlands near a lake. This is because we both love the water and I hate the heat. And the humidity. Really, really, really hate it. In the summer here I get fussy and a little hard to live with, and I tend to hide in the air-conditioned indoors as much as humanly possible. It can take a crowbar to get me out of the house. There are many problems with this, but the biggest is that I like being outside.

I was talking with Chuck and the subject of our impending move came up, like it does several times a day. It’s one of our favorite topics. We are both pretty much suffering from anticipation illness. Chuck said something about moving in a year, and I stopped. That’s the timeframe we always talk about. Right then it hit me: we’re not talking a year anymore. It’s 10 months.

We knew from the beginning we were going to have to improve our Spanish skills past “que hora es?” and “donde vas?”. We could order in a Mexican restaurant and ask where the bathroom is. Just enough to maybe get your point across as a tourist on a very short trip. Neither of us could really communicate. As many times as we’ve complained about people around here not speaking English: you know, the arrogant “If you’re going to live in MY country then learn to speak MY language!”, we figured there was no way we could respect ourselves if we went to live in Mexico without speaking Spanish.

Today’s post is short. I know - whew! I just wanted to share two of my favorite articles I have come across in my reading.

Judy’s Amazing Adventure

Chino’s Chicken

I got my certified copy of my birth certificate in the mail today. It arrived in the self-addressed, stamped envelope I provided. I opened it and realized it isn’t actually a copy of my birth certificate, its a standard form with the blanks filled out by somebody with a typewriter, signed by a stamp, and passed somewhere in the vicinity of the official seal.

Woo Hoo! Chuck’s work has approved his vacation for the week we need in California AND the month in Mazatlan. I never thought it would happen. They have screwed us on every vacation in the past. He can never get more than 3 days off at a time.

We contacted our real estate agent, Joanne Stewart, yesterday. It felt like a really big move and it was great. We’re not at the no turning back point yet, far from it. But it feels like a real move toward our goal.