Each year at this time Fernando arranges to have the coconuts cut out of our big palm tree in the back. He uses them in his puesto for some coconut milk concoctions; the ones in the side lot have been too chewed up by the resident squirrels to be of any use. This year he harvested 40 out of one tree.
The chap who does this sort of death-defying work is a professional; this is how he makes his living. He shows up with his rope and his machete and gets right to work. (The one who cleans the trees on the lot brings a dog who goes nuts waiting for a squirrel to be evicted and scamper down the trunk into his waiting jaws. It never happens.) The fellow ties the rope around his waist with the machete tied on the other end, kicks off his flip-flops and scampers up the tree, bare foot, hand over hand, until he's lost among the fronds at the top. Then he pulls his machete up after him. You can see it dangling in the air on its way up.
Pretty soon the coconuts start falling around the tree.
Some of the clusters are so big that he ties them together and lowers them with his rope. They must weigh close to 100 lbs. It took him less than half an hour to clean out the entire tree. He dropped the rope, scuttled down the tree, and they both lugged their takings out to Fernando's truck.
All in a day's work.
I made reservations in Tepic for our first night on the road as we head back next month. Hard to believe the season is over. We have two more guests coming next week, then begins the great shut-down, pack-up and put-away for another 7 months. We plan to leave May 4 and arrive home May 10, with a 2-night stop-over in Long Beach with Alex. I'm no where near ready to leave this lovely place, but perhaps in 3 weeks I'll feel different. Maybe.
Dago's tonight; only two more shrimp in garlic by the seashore before we go. Opera tomorrow is Verdi's La Traviata with Natalie Dessay as the doomed Violetta. Current reading: A Tale of Two Cities, revisited after initial reading in 10th grade. You figure out the time.