From Temis to Tequis

I was born in Temiscouata, hence Temis. The news is. . . that I have elected to establish myself in Tequisquiapan, known as Tequis, in the central part of colonial Mexico.  Actually, elected might be a misnomer—life simply happened, as plans to recover full use of my right arm were a tad presumptuous. Further surgery might be necessary. . . if I can stand more pain. . . that’s life!

As much as I would like to comment on the full-timer life, it will have to wait for a full disclosure, a chapter in itself. I will endeavour to keep it concise and as brief as possible. And realistic. Later. 

Not that I will abandon rv’ing. Just not full-time because of the handicap. Right now though, I want to rant and rave about Tequisquiapan. George, of vagabonders_supreme, loved Tequis enough to spend a full month here. The climate is the kind one dreams of after a lifetime spent in the snowbound Great White North. Flowers abound everywhere. I swear that if you stuck a bare stick in the soil, within a couple of weeks you’d have growth.

While my motor home is temporarily secured in my neighbour’s back yard, I am busy settling in my little “casita”.  Cleaning, painting, picking furniture, decorating, I’m having a one-armed ball! Once my project is completed, I’ll have lots of photos of Tequis and my delicious abode to publish, for a start. For the impatient ones, I’d suggest you Google Tequisquiapan to get an idea of the place. 

On the back burner for a couple of months is rv’ing. The choice of destinations makes me almost delirious. From the Yucatan and warm waters of the Caribbean, to a plethora of archaeological sites, silent witnesses of life thousands of years past, to the rain forest, to villages where a craft has been passed on through generations for 500 years or more, to the awesome beaches on the Pacific, I will be rv’ing for YEARS! And I will publish photos and commentaries of every place, it’s a promise. Vagabonding is in one’s blood. As a descendant of sea-faring invading Vikings, so it is in mine. So I will keep it up with the difference that I will have a home to come back to. In a sense, I’ll be getting the best of both worlds.

Hasta luego!

I’m baaack. . .

And so is Queenie. What a trek it has been! I had surgery on June 18th to remove bone particles left from a previous injury to my right elbow. The surgery was only half successful, but it had to be tried. I did allow myself some pampering, yet decision time was soon at hand as reality had to be faced. I would not recover full use of my right arm. I would need help for a number of chores. Pain was a faithful companion. Driving full-time would present an insurmountable challenge. As already did maintenance, shopping, cooking, cleaning, various chores that I so wanted to accomplish as before but clearly could not.

After taking all summer to order my body to respond to my liking, I had to give in. It wasn’t working. While a return to the desert with my many full-timer friends and the numerous activities at Imperial Dam was pulling hard on my heart strings, it wasn’t likely to happen. Friends or not, I remained the sole driver, sole doer of chores, and that presented definite logistical problems. Hardest to contemplate was giving up my autonomy, my independence, my freedom. All that I had planned for my retirement years.

I had tried to settle down in the Great White North—a dismal failure. Full-time rv’ing was too risky, a near impossibility. But where to go? What to do with my rig? Where would my Queenie be accepted? All questions to which no easy answers were readily coming to mind.

Then a suggestion from full-timer George of vagabonders_supreme made me check a site put up by a retiree who had settled in Tequisquiapan, in the heart of colonial Mexico. An idea was soon germinating while ultrasound and electrotherapy were buzzing me into a new realm of thinking. A door had closed, but perhaps a window was opening. . .