Well, I guess ole GW laid it out pretty well the way it oughta shake down. Señor Cancer and I seem to have reached another of our increasingly frequent agreements about my immediate future so I reckon it's time for me to Joe it yet again.

I'll have a run once more!

The time has come to move on to new places, new people, and new adventures. Teresa has gifted me with the key to the magic carpet and we're preparing to set off together to explore more of the Mexico we both love, but in a new way and through new eyes.

But first, some old business. Some of you get a bit tired of hearing about my illnesses, although several of you have written and asked to hear more. Since cancer has been such a huge part of my life for the past fifteen years or so I'll ask you to once again indulge me while I share good news with you.

Most of you know that the huge fast growing tumor in my lung, the one the doctors in Texas said would kill me by the end of this year, is currently in full remission. And that the oncologist in Guadalajara who shepherded me through the past few months of treatment has access to a new drug that will be on the market within a few months. It's designed to scavenge out the remains of the cancer from the lungs of those fortunate few of us who respond well to chemotherapy.

And Doc Ricardo gives me abrazos along with my weekly dose of IV vitamins and a jug of IV medical grade hydrogen peroxide to oxygenate my blood and boost my energy level. Along with that, Don Chuy, the herbalist across the revitalized Lake is standing by to prescribe his ancient potions if needed again, and Dr. Lastra is ready to find me help for any other problems, so things are looking exceptionally good for us right now.

Which makes a full circle. This reprieve, this latest second chance (actually I've lost count of how many second chances I've been given) seemed to be a good time for Teresa and me to look through our lives and make some decisions. One of the decisions we made was to go "adventuring" for awhile. We plan to sell or store most of our possessions - those things that seem more to own us rather than the other way around - and to find the place we want to fully explore and enjoy for at least a year. No compromises, no complications, no regrets, no looking back during that period of our personal Walden.

And what will our Walden look like; where will it be?

¿Quien sabe?

But we do know that this Walden will be hot and sandy and relatively isolated. No walking home to sleeping in our familiar featherbed at the family estate.

The plan is to find a small, unspoiled village on the coast between Mazatlan and Zihuatenejo and rent a small house on the beach. The four most important words in the preceding sentence are small and on the beach. I've done this many times, but never with someone I love so I'm expecting spectacular things from this experience.

Some of our time will be initially devoted to setting up housekeeping. We plan to use and appreciate color and good design in our new home, although on a more basic and utilitarian level. We'll take the many volumes of both trash and true talent that we've neglected for too long and catch up on our reading. We'll think and meditate and offer thanks for the blessings we've received. We'll develop new hobbies and skills, and pursue new interests and revisit old interests that we've neglected for lack of time and energy. And most certainly not least, we'll spend time with each other learning about who we are, both as individuals and as a couple, and nurturing our love and common respect for the other.

Our very own "Doctor Love" has entered into our lives and is showing us that we can and should learn to truly treasure each other. We see the wisdom of his message, and since together we've faced down the threat of permanent and irrevocable separation delivered via the Grim Reaper it makes perfect sense to accept his gift and to put it to use.

So few of us ever have the opportunity to head out and do what both please us and are good for us. We're doing it. This will require a few modifications of course, and one is that I'll be reducing my workload by cutting back on the number of columns I write. Beginning with this one I'll be sending in future writings on a less dependable schedule, but I believe they're going to be more interesting and informative for you. I know I'll be happier writing about new subjects and situations.

We'll be around Ajijic until the first part of October - at least in between scouting trips and the subsequent paint and plaster work parties, so we'll have opportunities to talk before the launch. And after that I'll be checking in with stories and photos for those who want to know what it's like to live in a real Paradise.