What do you do when Easter turns into Hanukkah -- at least, in form?
I told you yesterday in seasons cycle that I am agnostic when it comes to celebrating holidays on specific days. For me, one day is as good as the next.
Well, it turns out I have a co-conspirator in letting my inner calendar run free. While standing in line to pay my TelMex bill, I ran into my landlady, Christine.
She asked me how my Easter had been. If I had given any thought to her past Easter escapades (crossing the border), I would have realized she was hinting when she asked if I had been visited by the bunny.
I had just been in the garden looking for ants earlier in the morning. But I noticed nothing unusual. "Look higher," she said.
When I returned home, Dora was still cleaning, so I created a mini-office on the patio. As I looked up, there it was. A robin-blue egg. Resting on the orchid. On the flamboyant tree. Just where a bounder like the Eastern bunny would leave such a thing.
For those of you who ask me why I put up with the weather in Melaque, the answer is on that tree. Or what it stands for is on that tree.
I have lived here for going on six years this month. During that time, I have developed friendships and acquaintances that make living here a joy. And that circle was recently widened by including my neighbors across the street.
Does that mean that I am staying in Melaque until I die? Probably not. Unless I die before the month is out.
But it does mean that the relationships are important enough to me that I am probably going to stick around for a bit longer than the end of the month.
I guess it is appropriate to say it again -- Happy Easter, Christine!