A Facetime Between Two Villages

So my BFF and I talk just about everyday. It's so incredible to have a friend like that. Someone you can just be yourself with, be at ease around and talk with about whatever is on your mind. Truly one of my life's most treasured gifts.

We've not been able to converse this week as she's been entertaining her folks at my holiday home in Mexico. This is a magical place I myself haven't been to since falling chronically ill in early November 2012.

The rain is falling hard here, the ground looks like mud, in fact this has been the wettest March on record since such measures have been recorded. Juxtaposed to cool, spring downpours, my BFF is enjoying hot, sunny, summer-like days on the Mexican Riviera.

BFF's hat confirms ground transport on the phone with my property manager in the living room of my Mexico home with me pictured top right because we're Facetiming. Silly, aren't we.

Whenever BFF finds herself in a sunny part of the world, she breaks out a fabulously enormous hat and large, black Jackie-O sunglasses. Before we disconnect I let her know how much I enjoyed speaking with her hat, sunglasses and hoops (earrings). She tells me they're her pool hoops. I remark they bear a striking resemblance to her work hoops and to her airplane hoops. She tells me to fuck off.

While we conversed, I could hear tropical birds cawing, a rooster crowing and a dog barking. There's just something about these particular sounds in concert that are other worldly to me in such a beautiful way.

The seaside Mexican village my vacation home is in is so different from the seaside American village my home is in. Here's a comparison:
Both are on the coast, surrounded by mountains rich in flora. That's about where the comparisons end. Otherwise the place I call home and the place I call my home away from home couldn't be more different.
San Pancho has small lots, half the population and is south of the Tropic of Cancer.
Normandy Park has large lots, twice the population and is north of the line between the Equator and North Pole.

Perhaps because it is so different than what I'm familiar with is why I love San Pancho so. The people are so warm and friendly. There's a peaceful calmness to the place I've only known there.

I've been reluctant to return since that's where I first became really ill and have been recovering for the past year and a half since. I feel I will be ready to return in the fall. I long to be in my poquita casita. For the longest time I've dreamed of being there in the low, rainy season, camped out at a desk writing my heart out.