The bricks under the window arch will be removed after the bricks forming the arch are placed over it and the mortar dries The top of the arch you see here will actually be the bottom of the window arch. Think backwards!
Where is Magic When You Need It?
Oh dear. I could have used a bit of magic in dealing with one very irate plumber who came up to the kitchen waving his knapsack and pulling at a big chewed spot in the small pocket in front. Reaching in, he drew out a half-eaten lonche (sandwich made out of shredded pork in a bolillo–a small crusty loaf of delicious Mexican Bread.)
“Su perro, su perro! ” he exclaimed and I understood at once that he had left his knapsack down where any one of three inquisitive and always-hungry dogs could investigate (and open) it. It was the small one, he sputtered.
In my best ( worst at best) Spanish I said, “You can’t leave your lunch on the ground with three dogs present.” But it was zippered into his bag, he said. I had to laugh. You’ve seen Morrie’s past exploits, right? If not, suffice it to say that in one week he consumed thirty rolls of toilet paper, two rolls of paper towels, a rubber duck, three doggie toys, a box of crayons, one shoe, five books and the handles off an antique chiffarobe. When I bought him one of those indestructible hard rubber toys in an hourglass shape–the ones you put a dog biscuit or peanut butter into to encourage chewing? Guaranteed forever? He bit it in two in fifteen minutes. This is why I laughed.
“I’ll make you a delicious pork loin sandwich,” I told him.
But the knapsack! he whined.
“I’ll buy you a new bag. Tell me what it costs and I’ll replace it.” He looked somewhat happier. He returned to my studio, where they were fixing a burst pipe. I returned to the kitchen where I cut a half inch slab of pork loin, covered it with au jus and slivered carrots cooked in the juice, made a sandwich, put celery sticks and dipping dressing in a bag, made guacamole and sandwiched it between four crisp tortillas, added a Coca Cola and carried the bag with his new lunch down to the studio. Inside the studio were all three dogs and three piles of poop–all Morrie’s. I know it so well. Piled around were various bags and boxes of valuables used to make retablos that my robber dogs had had free access to.
“You can’t let the dogs into the studio,” I directed, and shut the door. I leaned down to remove Morrie’s markers and by the time I arose, one plumber had gone to retrieve something from the garage, the door was open again and all three dogs were inside.
“I’ll put the dogs in the garage,” I said in my creative Spanish, and went to the house to fortify my demands with dog biscuits. But when we arrived at the garage, there was a very large plastic pipe they’d drained the aljibe (cistern) with in order to clean it, so no go with dogs in the garage. Morrie could have that pipe deconstructed in minutes! Where else? Men were carrying concrete around the side of the house and so I couldn’t close the front yard off from the back. Finally, I enclosed them all within the 20 foot long “pen” I’d created to isolate Morrie while he recuperated from his earlier neutering. The room builders were off in the street, eating lunch under the neighbor’s trees. (More of a vacation than eating under my trees.) The plumbers were in my gazebo, having their lunch. I went down to tell them the dogs were removed from their company at least for now.
The one plumber didn’t look ecstatic over my balanced meal provided, but perhaps he hadn’t tasted it yet. The pork is delicious, I know. I’ve been eating it every day for three days now. The last time I cooked one of these marinated pork tenderloins, I made one meal of it before Diego snatched the rest off the counter where Yolanda had placed it while she cleaned the fridge. This time I was looking forward to more than one meal of it, but I’m very happy to share it with the plumber.
Yesterday, I finally dealt with a three day bout of terrible allergies by taking an antihistamine. As a result, I slept all afternoon, awakening at 7:30 at night. After feeding the dogs, I suddenly had a terrific burst of energy during which I cleaned out and reorganized the entire garage, Scoured out a 20 year old Rubbermaid garbage can so we can use it to store dog food in, washed dishes and straightened the kitchen and dining room. I then reorganized my bathroom storage, hung up all my clothes discarded in hurried changes of costume over the past few days, had the silliest of conversations with my Missouri friend and went out for an after-midnight photo session, the results of which you can see on Cee’s Flower of the Day Challenge on this morning’s blog posting. I then watched an episode of “Castle,” played three games of computer solitaire and finally looked at the clock. Five A.M.? I had an English lesson to teach in a few hours and workmen coming at 8. Loud workmen!!! Off went the lights and five minutes later, Yolanda arrived with a cup of coffee. Looks like three hours sleep was going to have to do.
So, another day and another magical progression of events that let me know I’m alive. The weather is perfect. Slight breeze moving the trees. Pasiano accomplished most of the list of “to do’s” I thought up for him to do while experiencing my own all-night energy spurt. The builders are back from lunch and I’m looking out on the beautiful arched window they are in the process of constructing that I’ll be able to see every day from my desk for the rest of my life. My kids are happily at rest in their prison and hot volcanic water is streaming into my swimming pool.
Where is magic when I need it? All around me.