Looking out my backdoor: In the grand scheme of things

We are one week plus days past our second vaccination shots and feeling great. Carol said, “I wonder if the syringe had anything in it.

Ben sent me a cartoon, unsigned, so I’ve no idea the artist. It depicts a stick figure saying, “Hi. I’m here to visit!”

From behind an open door, “Do I know you?”

“No. It’s cool. I’m two weeks past my second dose.”

Below is a blurb: Remember, once you’re fully vaccinated, the CDC says you’re free to visit other people’s houses.

Well, it resonated with me. I have lonely moments when I would knock on a stranger’s door just to have somebody with whom to talk. Then my phone will ring or an email from a friend will arrive, like the message with photo from Beth, whom I met when she was pregnant with Hannah, now 16.

Those of us fully vaccinated visit more frequently now, but we maintain masks and distancing. That is by our choices. Carol and I feel particularly vulnerable, both by age and general health.

I’m glad I live here in central Mexico during this pandemic, where I practically live outdoors nine months of the year. I make it sound perfect, don’t I? It’s not. Wherever one happens to be is perfect as it gets, if one can only see that. Every place, every life, has flaws.

Yesterday Janet was over for a short patio visit. I mentioned the summer rains, which seep inside our houses, which are built like sieves. Every storm makes me rush around putting towels on window sills and in front of my door.

Janet said, “And the critters come inside through the cracks. Scorpions. Ants. Mosquitoes.” I would round that out with “Silverfish.” One day a small lizard creeped into my living room.

Finding obscure things is frustrating. I placed an order for Melita coffee filters, which I may never see. This is one of the few items I can’t find. Order placed. Order sent. Order mis-placed? I won’t go into details, but ordering anything from the States is fraught with opportunities for the ordered item to go astray. I’m prepared to throw up my hands and do without.

John and Carol and I, just this morning, talked about the problems with ordering clothing and shoes online. “Don’t,” is my brief advice. There are things I’ve learned not to buy until I can hold them in my hands, see the quality, and try them on for fit. I’ll do without.

No matter where I live, I’m not ready to go out into the big wide world shopping. Yet. So if I go without a few specialty items such as Melita coffee filters, no big whoop. New clothing? I’m not near to naked yet.

Critters? Every place has invasive critters. If I were with my daughter in Montana, mosquitoes are just as dangerous there as here. I’d trade coral snakes for rattlesnakes. If I were in Washington with my son, the more likely pests would be raccoons, mold and mildew.

Here I have year-round flowers and my bucket garden for lettuce, herbs, beans, zucchini and such. Along with squirrels and iguanas.

It seems as if all at once, there are fewer birds, the morning chorus lacking several voices. I know they don’t all just up and leave one fine morning. But my noticing happened today.

I also have daily doses of dust and smoke from fires on the mountain. Sounds much like Montana.

Are any of these things problems? Of course not. In the grand scheme of life, they are inconveniences. And minor ones at that.

However, if one fine day you hear a knock at your door and find a stranger, a dowdy, rather kooky-looking woman standing there telling you she feels it’s safe to visit, it might be me.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].