Fac ut gaudeam. - (Make my day.)

'Modern' Latin Proverbs

Another swift visit to Joana, our Arquitecta, to ratify and, in some instances, clear up one or two design issues. We have been exchanging floor plans at a rate of at least one a day, sometimes up to four, all in the interests of moving things forward speedily.

We don't lack enthusiasm for this project, but it is refreshingly agreeable to know that SHE is pushing US to "get a wiggle on!"

PDF's have been received, amended and returned several times, but there is no substitute for a one-on-one (one-on-two in our case) to thrash out the minutiae. The big stuff is easy to see on paper, but it becomes essential to discuss the apparent trivia.

"Why do we need this wall here?"

"Because the mezzanine noun:

1. first or lowest balcony
2. intermediate floor just above the ground floor

floor will end up at ground level if you take it away!"

"Oh, I see."

And so the discussion flows. Back and forth, back and forth. Very productive. Very sociable. Especially since the coffee is 'on tap' and a surreptitious ashtray (her establishment is considered 'public') is produced for our convenience. "Foul habit!" I hear you cry. Forgive me if I respond with "Ascendo tuum!" Up yours!

I don't see mention of the chimney I specifically asked her to retain, despite the fact that she warned at an early stage that she was renowned for NOT saving chimneys. I want my freakin' chimney and since I am paying I expect to get what I want!

The shrewd arquitecta rummages around in her desk drawer and, with a 'cat-got-the-milk' smile on her face, fishes this out and presents it to us ...

It dawns on me that I am on a loser here. I have always accepted that I don't know much about women, but it appears that I am equally ignorant about architects. Make that a woman architect and you begin to understand my total capitulation.

The frontage (in fact, the whole edifice) has been raised by about a metre and a half. This allows us to insert the mezzanine floor on which will be placed several bedrooms and bathrooms ('restrooms' for you lot across the pond). In the little houses as well as the larger one. The chimneys have all disappeared. In their place are 'dormer' windows. Makes sense, as they will serve the bedrooms on the mezzanine. And all these changes continue to retain the 'look' of houses in the region. Which, of course, was what I demanded in the first place.

I am sure I can find something to whinge about.

But nothing springs to mind just yet ...

Fear is a habit; so is self-pity, defeat, anxiety, despair, hopelessness and resignation. You can eliminate all of these negative habits with two simple resolves: 'I can' and 'I will'.

Anonymous

It was a nice feeling to think that this picture-postcard setting could be ours. Then the enormity of the task sank in. Sure, it looked pretty. Sure, the location was ideal. But what was the reality of converting these 'houses' into something that we could occupy and in which we could feel comfortably 'at home'? I mean, did we have the time for all the crap that would certainly come our way? Did we have the time to undertake the 'undertaking', and still be able to enjoy it? I suppose I went through the whole gamut of 'negatives' that appear in the quotation above!

You can assume, correctly, that I was on a downer. Maria on the other hand was up-beat enough for the both of us.

Let me introduce you to a couple of 'Maria-isms'.

Mild spring Sunday afternoon. Late, lazy breakfast. I, with (ex)military precision and correctness, offer to do the washing up. She has other plans.

ME: "I'll wash up. Won't take a minute."
SHE: "Nah!"
ME. "Honest, I'll have it done in a jiffy!"
SHE: "The sun is shining. The dog could do with a run on the beach. The dishes will always be there. The sun might not. Let's catch it while we can."
ME: "Oh, OK!" (able to see the rationale of the argument, and always able to recognise an order when I hear one)

AND

On the occasion I was tinkering with a shelf over the computer monitor and allowed the screwdriver to slip, gouging a huge scratch into the front face of the monitor bezel:

ME: "Bugger!"
SHE: "What?"
ME: "Stupid, stupid, stupid me! Ruined the monitor!" (I've always been prone to exaggeration)
SHE: "Don't worry about it. It will last forever." (and how right she was; the scratch still haunts me to this day!)

So whereas I, the pessimist, could see only dungeons in the air she, the optimist, was able to see the castle - (thank you Reader's Digest).

I still had many questions, not least of all was how many of the 'houses' were occupied. Turns out the three in the middle still had tenants. So, we could only be sure of actually occupying the two end houses! There would be a whole bunch of itinerants 'parked' between our lounge and kitchen on one side of the house and the bedroom and bathroom (the latter would still need to be built) at the other. Remember, these are sitting-tenants who have the right to continue to live there. For as long as they lived, that is!

I took up reading again. Macbeth and Hamlet became firm favourites.

Especially the more grisly scenes ...