It was a busy day in Margaritaville. Roberto the painter and his crew arrived early with pistolas and paintbrushes to caulk and paint the new moldings that went in after the floors. Night stands for one of the bedrooms were delivered.

I began a wall of old family photos in the alcove next to my mom's room, and I talked for a while with my brother's girlfriend about the doctors my mom will need--cardiologist, pulmonary specialist, neurologist, etc., and whether or not there's a smaller version of her oxygen machine that can make the move with her from Maryland to California. I called the utility companies, and the phone company, and made plans to cancel my old homeowner's policy, and my internet, and changed my address. There was more unpacking, and my kitchen island is heaped with things that go here and there and who knows where.

The swallows are still nesting above my patio doors, flying in an out, tending and rebuilding, and I feel they are kindred spirits as I feather my new nest. Come September when their nesting season is over, and they are no longer protected by law, I will encourage them to go elsewhere by having the old nests washed down, and a "bird slide" installed. It seems that it's impossible to have just one or two nests, and the bird poop is currently raining down a little too liberally.

The reality of this move is raining down, too--that I'll be more than an hour away from the man who loves me. That I'll be the point person for my mom without any family nearby to serve as back up. That my traveling days are done. But every time I step outside here and smell the ocean air, it feels like what I've been waiting for--that this spot is a destination.

I'm picturing a patio full of friends. Walks on the beach. Kayaking. The blender will be working overtime. People will be too tired to drive back to L.A. The extra bedrooms will be full, and we'll have to break out the air mattresses.

I'm ready. I've got toothbrushes and  razors. Sunscreen and aloe vera. Q-tips, cough drops, and Dramamine. Tequila. Coffee. Open arms.