The first of March signals the beginning of a two-month long migration pattern of Snowbirds as they choose the optimum time to take flight from the Rio Grande Valley. The warm breezes from Mexico that have provided for them a tropic-like sanctuary from the brutal winter up north will soon become too warm and too humid for their liking. The trickle of RVs plying the few routes northward will swell to thousands as the Valley disgorges its beloved nomads. And yes, they are beloved here; the economy of this area and the towns along the Mexican border are heavily dependent on their return and the money they bring with them.
Ed and Marilyn will join us on March 1 to be among the first of our little group to depart Llano Grande. Within a few days afterward, the remainder of our friends will be gone, all headed to different northern climes and away from the summer inferno that is Texas. Since our home is near Fort Worth, we will not be able fully to escape; however, unlike previous summers before my retirement, we will certainly try to spend as much time as possible in more hospitable locations this summer.
As a parting gesture, new friends Ron and Irene--two of the nicest people ever to draw a breath--hosted our small group at their site for some delicious pizza and blueberry cheesecake. Joining us, besides these two and Ed and Marilyn, were Heinz and Irene, who are equally winsome Canadians. We feel so blessed to have met these folks, whom we now feel we have known always.
|Final Gathering Before Departure|
Ed and Marilyn, who have been our beloved host-guides during our stay here, will be leaving early in the morning. This is because they inexplicably find it necessary to awaken each day in the dark and get up when the sun is probably still somewhere over the Azores! Since they have a relatively short drive to Kerrville, this makes no sense to me, but they have been unmoved by my counseling on the impropriety of getting up so early like, well...working people. Eew! It's just not done among civilized retirees.
Even though it may be dangerous (I read somewhere that lack of sleep contributes to a shorter lifespan), Sandy and I have determined that, out of respect and gratitude, we will make the ultimate sacrifice and arise in time to give them the traditional wave-off in the morning. This depends entirely on whether I can navigate the 75 yards to their rig while sleepwalking. It is even less certain that I will be able to give them a wave; I typically do not have full control of my fine motor skills in the early morning.
So, if I happen to miss you, good friends, Godspeed and thank you for a wonderful time.