That comment always makes my heart skip a beat. Imagine Mérida started out as an anonymous site, but eventually my identity became the city’s worst-kept secret. Still, I prepare myself for whatever’s coming next.
“But it’s OK because you don’t name names.” This came from our real estate agent as we drove away from the attorneys’ offices, after a tortuous session of signing large ancient-looking documents. The house finally ours, and I’d been documenting details of our journey … but discreetly. Expat Mérida is a small town, and we want to live there one day.
Today, we’re home in Connecticut, but had a Skype conference with our architects. And that’s all I’m going to say about it. People keep asking us, but we’re not going to broadcast their identity until we’re done. For all we know, they don’t even know we have a blog. And why should they? This is a minor hobby blog, not Diario de Yucatán. And we know how much anger and resentment blogging can cause.
Believe me, I’m dying to tell you how the conversation went. But really, it’s nothing you haven’t heard from other bloggers. We only ever considered architects and designers from Mérida’s A-list. We just want that assurance of quality… not just craftsmanship, but design. We’ve seen too many weird renovations in Mérida, and we’d end up with something just as off-kilter and ill-conceived if we didn’t hire the best architects we could find.
I think of this blog as slightly boosterish, but earlier on I was more prone to rant about my frustrations during the house hunt, and then during the months it took to actually obtain the property. Remember, we decided to buy the house in July of 2011. The offer was accepted in August. It wasn’t ours until Christmas. In between, our unfortunate real estate agent was working out the paperwork, reconciling what the deed and the city surveyor had recorded. Now that we’re entering the building phase, I’m going to be fighting off urges to rant again. This won’t be the “fun” phase of our transition to Mexico. I know there will be complications, delays and overruns. But I won’t be crying over my keyboard, telling tales on the blog.
At least not until it’s all over.