Every morning, I listen for the roosters. Their call announces the beginning of another day.
When we first arrived in Ajijic, we noticed chickens, roosters, cows, and horses scattered throughout small yards and nearby pastures. That first morning, I heard the roosters crowing—and now I find myself waiting for it. It has become part of my rhythm. Their call brings me joy, a sense of peace, and always a smile.
Setting up a new home means replacing the things we left behind. As we ride along the Carretera—the main road here—we keep our eyes open. There are stores for everything: plastic goods, hardware, groceries, furniture, bedding. We could go to Walmart and get it all done in one or two trips. Yes… Walmart is here but that’s not how we want to do it. We prefer the smaller, family-run businesses. It means more bike rides, more stops, and baskets filled little by little. That’s just fine with us.
We’re no longer in a hurry.
Kent and I have continued something we’ve always done—starting each day with coffee and conversation. He wakes up before I do and coffee is ready when I come downstairs.
Some things have changed. For years, my mornings began with a 5:30 a.m. alarm. I thought retirement might mean sleeping in. It turns out, my internal clock didn’t get the memo.
If I feel tired in the afternoon, I can simply rest with a siesta. What a wonderful concept!
Lately, I find myself asking, “What day is it?” And I don’t always know. Days feel less defined now—and I like that. Our waking hours are wide open. We can ride our bikes to explore a new shop, visit a nearby town, or simply take in the beauty around us. It’s our way of becoming part of this place.
One of the reasons we chose this home is its location. We can walk or bike to small markets, a pharmacy, and local eateries. We’re becoming familiar faces, and slowly, connections are forming.
We speak as much Spanish as we can. Kent is more fluent, but I am trying—and people are kind and patient with me.
In just a short time, we’ve begun to meet our neighbors. Next door is a family from Texas, originally from Mexico, restoring a home for their mother and future family gatherings. Across the street is a couple from Canada who walk their three dogs several times a day. We’ve met Mexican families who pass by on morning or evening walks.
There’s a wide mix of people here. And we love it!
The rhythm of our days still includes grocery shopping, laundry, cooking and cleaning. These grooves are familiar and I find comfort in them.
With each day, I feel more settled and at ease.
More present.
I am learning to slow down and notice.
To enjoy.
Life is very good.
Comments
8 responses
So happy for you and Kent! That place sounds so wonderful. The simplicity, the climate, the people—what an adventure!
Thank you Neill. It’s an honor for me that you are following along.
I love hearing about your experiences – and your reflections.
Thank you Sherelyn. Love you!!
When I read your post, many memories came flooding back of my rural home in Houston. My rooster woke me up & then I fed horse, cow, pig, turkey, duck, dog & cat. Then I tended an acre garden. I SO miss that life. I’m grateful that you feel that same peace & comfort. Enjoy- my friends.
Your posts are so serene this week. It sounds like you’ve found a little piece of heaven. It’s a place that heals everything. You have found what Rose Arbuthnot and Lotty Wilkins find in Italy in the book “Enchanted April.” I may never make it to Italy, but I pray I will make it to Mexico. In the meantime, I appreciate your posts!
Thank you Joel. We hope you can make it down here as well. Love you and Lisa.
Hello neighbor. Yes, country like living suits me. I had no idea how far I had come from that life of my youth and how much peace it brings. I wish we had our own animals, too, but for now, we enjoy the street dogs, occasional cat sitings, the horses being ridden down cobblestone streets and tethered cows along the roadside waiting to be milked.