Rain, Rain Go Away

What would life on an island be like with out a week long tropical storm or two? I have been mopping and wringing out towels for 3 days now. The wind has been howling day and night, and our already cluttered apartment stuffed with our luggage and things for our house is now a disaster. I have shuffled things all over trying to find islands of dry area and our apartment looks like a rummage sale. Just when I was beginning to really feel sorry for myself, a friend on the island posted pictures of a family just down the road from me (one of many) who live in a tar paper house with water streaming in from the roof, walls and windows onto mud floors. I suddenly had a reality check and realized how blessed I am in my muy rustico apartment.
Building is coming along great despite the storm. They are building closets, couches and counters on the first level. Things are coming down to the wire now where any changes can not be made easily. Lucy, our architect, has been so patient with last minute changes. I am so excited about how the house is coming along and wish it were done yesterday. I don't really see how people can build without being here. It is impossible to plan it perfectly. In fact perfect is a word you must eliminate from your vocabulary in Mexico (any place for that matter.) What things look like on paper and what they look like in person are two different things. For instance, I thought the view from my second story balcony facing the street would be a stunning view of the bay. No. It is a view of the college across the busy street in front of our house. Stan had a brilliant idea to have tall built-in flower beds on the second floor balcony that blocked the busy street view below, but allowed you to see the pretty tops of palm trees and a distant view of the bay over the foliage. In addition it created a cozy and private feel to the balcony. If we would not have been able to stand on that balcony ourselves, we would have never realized that changes needed to be made. And there are countless little details that your architect questions you about when you are here that she would just have to guess at otherwise or try to ask by e-mail. Lucy and I spent 2 hours today combing through design books and hammering out subtle design details. How tall will the concrete sofa be? How tall will the end tables be? Can we put stone on the stairway facing? How about the bases of the columns? Can we put stone on the kitchen back-splash. What about the back wall of the outdoor grill? On and on the list goes. Should we do wood shutters or aluminum? If we do wood, how will we secure them? Think about rust, think about wind, think about water leaking in, think about ventilation, think about security, and last but not least, think about cost. The considerations are endless.
And soooo with all the considerations, calculations, and decisions you can see why I am quickly approaching a vegetative state. It's time to set the house plans aside. Pop some popcorn and veg out in front of the TV with my husband and daughter. I will see what discovery channel has to offer if Sophia has her way or the current action film if Stan has his. And so for tonight I am going to ignore the howling wind, relish the warm crunch of popcorn and snuggle up to my loved ones. Buenos noches mi amigos.