As fall arrives, emotional needs aren’t necessarily met when you’re building a home in Mérida while stationed in New England. For us, this is the point where neurosis sets in. We’re almost at the point where we own two homes. I always thought I might have a condo somewhere, maybe a timeshare. But not two homes. Up until now, the closest I’ve come to a second home is when I’ve racked up enough Hilton Honors points to earn a free night. A mason told a friend that they have about two weeks left. We’re at the finish line.
Our friends across the barrio just yesterday crossed that finish line. They actually drove down from the East Coast in an RV with two dogs and a cat, and I’m so impressed. And not at all jealous, not at all, not at all (I keep telling myself). Meanwhile, we’re cranking the heat up in Connecticut, waiting for “Foto Friday.” Unreasonable and unrealistic thoughts and actions are starting…
We want more photos. Those weekly photographic progress reports taunt us. Here’s what you’re missing, they seem to say. Enjoy the fall foliage, go apple picking. It’s sunny and warm down in Mérida. We received 103 photos of the construction progress on Friday night, and that’s fine. But none came on Saturday, none on Sunday, and none so far today. More, dammit, we want more and more!
You’d be surprised which photos interest us most. It’s getting colder up here in Connecticut, and the sunny skies and the palm trees in the background are pulling focus from the walls and floors. They really could just take photos of the trees and clouds.
Would it be so much to ask for a Casa Nana YouTube channel? Our architect’s little camera makes movies, too, and sharing them online so easy. I want to hear Casa Nana, not just see it.
While we’re filming, let’s mount a Live Casa Nana Cam. A network of cameras would be good. My downtime at work would be well spend seeing live streaming photos of my courtyard. We could get the model where there’s a microphone on my end and my keyboard can shift the lens left and right, up and down. It might be helpful in shooing feral cats, or even startling burglars.
I know the general public likes to wander in and explore. The most they get is dirty looks from the crew. I suppose we can’t bodily block gawkers, but we could charge them. $250 pesos for 30 minutes, and you can keep 20 percent to pay the ticket-taker. Here in Connecticut, we’d have a docent with a blue blazer guide visitors, but I don’t want to be pretentious.
I won’t be the first expat whose arrival in El Centro has gone to my head and I won’t be the last. It’s time to reinvent myself from a middling middle-manager type into something more Important. So we won’t allow Revista Ambientes to run a spread on Casa Nana unless we’re guaranteed a cover position. I hear this kind of demand works for Jennifer Aniston, so I don’t know why we shouldn’t play hardball with the local media. I am available to pose with the furniture, but the magazine is responsible for reimbursing fees and expenses for my hair and makeup stylist, who will be flown in from New York.
Meanwhile, I have to eat. I bought a tub of guacamole yesterday at Whole Foods only because the brand name was Yucatán. The fact that Yucatán brand guacamole comes from Los Angeles (and is made with Haas avocados, not Indio) didn’t make the purchase any less tempting. It said “Yucatán” right on the label! How exciting. This is how my brain works these days.