Guess what, y’all? I’m using my hotspot to connect to the internet. AGAIN. This time, cellular service is out and has been since Saturday afternoon; WiFi is down, and the apps on my phone are mostly useless. If you’ve wondered where my daily stories and sunset posts have been the last couple of days, they’re still in my phone because I can’t get Instagram to work. I wanted to include pictures with this post, but my connection to the hotspot is sketchy at best. I can’t get pictures uploaded onto the laptop from my phone.

This is my last blog post from Mexico. I’ll be flying back to the states this weekend. Tim will be here tomorrow afternoon, assuming we don’t have a repeat of the travel complications that delayed his arrival for our visit earlier this month. I’m sad to log the “lasts.” I made my final trip to the market in Progreso for flowers. I’m thawing out French onion mac and cheese for dinner tonight; I saved the best of the freezer meals for last. As I’m nearing the end of my time here, the weather has improved. The sun set inland when I first arrived. While the  change in seasons isn’t so abrupt here as it is in the states, I can tell spring is arriving by the position of the sun. It now sets over the water; every night the sun is swallowed by the ocean. It is a glorious sight. I became a little complacent about the the sunsets in the middle of my stay, but now I’m compelled to watch the sun every evening until the last glimmer of light sinks below the water’s surface. I’m going to miss this.

Every inch of the 1000 sq. ft. cutting garden has been plotted. I’ve begun a portfolio of my floral arrangements. Looking back, I can see what was in bloom every month and chart what plant material will be available at any given time of the year. While I will miss my quiet, sunny, lazy beach days, I can’t wait to see what my garden has been doing while I’ve been away. I planted a crop of hardy annuals last November; something I’ve never done before. I’m anxious to see how they’ve survived the winter, hiding under short frost cloth-covered tunnels. I’m longing for daffodils, irises, tulips, ranunculus, anemones, foxgloves, snapdragons, sweet peas, and canterbury bells. I’ve fallen in love with lisianthus during the last couple of years, but they are tough to grow from seed and nursery plugs are not readily available. I decided to order some through a wholesale grower. To do this, I had to place a HUGE minimum order. Last Wednesday, 965 lisianthus plugs landed on our front porch (would’ve had almost 1200 if there hadn’t been a crop failure with one variety I ordered). They are healthy and beautiful; I had Tim FaceTime me as he opened the boxes. When I placed the order last summer, I assumed I’d be flying home three or four days after their arrival. But, the plants arrived a few days early, and I’m staying a few days later than I’d originally planned. So far, the plants are happy hanging out in our cool basement. I’ll get Tim to check them for water before he flies out tomorrow, and Reagan will be housesitting for us. Since I only really want 100 plants and don’t have room for extras, I’m trying to sell the rest of the plugs. I have a few takers but several hundred more to sell.   

Spring also brings the organized chaos that is Bates Nursery. To preserve some of my sanity, my schedule has been tweaked a little this spring. While I will still be working the Sunday shifts, I will not have the dreaded 6-day schedule for weeks on end. I’m so relieved I could cry. Managing a greenhouse is both physically and mentally demanding. Maybe 30-something Melissa could keep going at that pace but approaching-50 Melissa cannot. 

Endings are sad. But I’m thinking about what awaits me back home. My luxurious shower, a familiar bed, my people, my true love and best friend. And soon, flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.