Eleven sleeps before The Main Squeeze and I leave for San Agustinillo, Oaxaca, Mexico. We’re almost ready: the cats have their shots; the up-rights have theirs (well, one of us does); house care is arranged; contracts are signed; writing plans are duly noted on spreadsheets; and Skype accounts are in the process. I’m feeling sheepish about going somewhere warm for six months just when the announcement came out that the experts project this’ll be the coldest winter in Nova Scotia since sometime in the 90s.
Ok, I don’t feel bad about leaving this place during the winter, even if I will miss skiing. I figure snow will be here next year. What I feel badly about is that I have to explain to people that I’m going to be working while in Mexico. But for people who don’t find writing a challenge, or who don’t do it at all, they do not understand that writing is work. Certainly, I’m going to try to work only part of the day. When I’m not writing, I’m going to be analysing data and reading theory. There’s a library across the street from us, so I’ll begin planning a new research project, too.
In the spirit of all of you who doubt my intentions, I will also do yoga on the beach. And continue learning to snorkel. And learn to cook traditional coastal Mexican food. And improve my Spanish. Really, what we hope to do on this sabbatical is learn to have balance.