Mr. Fix-it

I have owned several homes over the past four decades. During that time, I have acquired the “fix-it” skills of replacing a washer in a dripping faucet, removing and clearing a sink trap, installing a new light switch (including a GFCI) and taping caulking strips around a door molding. Despite numerous editions of How to Do Anything: A-Z delivered as presents by my wife; I have neither displayed the ability nor the desire to self-improve in this regard. This does not bode well in my domestic environment.

Fast forward to our, Diana and mine, relocation to Yelapa two years ago. We rented and improved a brand new, never lived in two bedroom, one bath casita. Our main man in all this activity was Fernando Garcia Garcia. He assisted us in locating the property, whilst we were guests in one of his MiraMar Yelapa rentals, and then supervised the completion of both the bathroom and the kitchen following our return to the States. Five months later, we landed with six plastic tubs, two backpacks, one laptop and a large dog crate occupied by Nikki, our English Shepherd. We awaited the tranquil charm of paradise.

Well, charm must have been away at school because we leapt right into a number of glitches. While cosmetically our place could be featured in Casita Weekly, a few areas demanded attention. The landlord, who lives directly below us, failed to connect the water until two days prior to our arrival. Therefore, Fernando did not have the opportunity to check the charged system. We experienced hot water in the toilet, and the reversal of every hot/cold water fixture in the dwelling. I have to admit that hot water in the commode was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. But, when we considered the repetitive impact on our instant hot water heater, the possibility of cracking a cold porcelain bowl whilst sitting astride it and the early disintegration of the wax donut seal, we became concerned. Three plumbers and thirty days later, the issue was resolved. 

Prior to departing, we instructed Fernando to install thresholds on each entryway and sweeps on each door. This is not SOP for Mexican construction. He was so proud that the requested items were in place that as we arrived he pointed them out. Two nights later we sat motionless as a six inch scorpion scaled a living room wall. A few days following that incident, we noticed an increasing presence of mega-wasps. A room-to-room scan revealed small mud nests affixed to the two steel I-beams supporting the roof. These inch and a half hatchlings awaited our arrival before introducing themselves. Armed with swatters, we spent the ensuing fourteen days swinging and ducking. Wasps are aggressive.  

As I ricochet off the portal which opens to the autumn of my existence, I exude tolerance and acceptance. Diana, on the other hand, remains entrenched in the summer of her life, and exhibits no evidence of either tolerance or acceptance. You can see where this is headed, right? Once again, I made another unilateral decision which exhausted our fiscal resources, relocated our little band to some remote patch of a foreign country, and now we, like Dante, were staring at each other wondering how many levels of inferno we had yet to experience. The tranquil life momentarily escaped us.

In Mexico, tequila is the elixir of life. Its clarity and blendability allow it to be infused discretely into other liquids. These include, but are not limited to: bottled water, coffee, juices of all sorts, soy milk and smoothies. Tranquility has returned to our casita. We peer out our window over the bay for hours. We share our hopes, dreams and await our future together. Even Nikki appears more sedate. I am forever indebted to the Jose Cuervo Corporation.

Commercial Break

I’m still here boys and girls. Remember me, Memo--Sr. Kayak?  Call for rates and availability 322 146 5064 (cell). Happy Paddling.