I haven’t been on Frail Deeds for an extended time because of a couple reasons. First, I was having a little bit too much fun entertaining some of my wife’s incredible family on Monday. For the rest of the week, we found ourselves back in David, fulfilling a promise to my mother-in-law. That promise resulted in being either too busy or too damned tired to even unpack the computer, much less write anything coherent. Granted, coherence isn’t my strong suit to begin with, but there it is.
My Favorite Panamanian’s favorite cousin
rolled into Las Lajas late Monday afternoon along with her daughter and daughter’s
boyfriend. In a true Panamanian moment, she had promised to arrive just before lunch.
Around 1pm we received a status report that they were just leaving Volcan where
they were visiting the same gal we did last week. Since I knew, first hand, how
tough it was to extricate from that dedicated conversationalist I understood the
late departure. Three hours later they apologetically arrived.Last Beach Walk, Tuesday Morning
Monday Evening in Pool
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| Finally Deployed Wife's Beach Hammock |
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| Monday Sunset |
My mother-in-law’s front walkway was very narrow, with cracks, and a major lean to the left. My Favorite Panamanian and I were worried about her tripping, especially with the rainy season bearing down. My mother-in-law is fairly spry for her 89 years but agility is no longer her strong suit. You’ll notice I used the past tense when I referred to the walkway. When we arrived in January, I said it looked like an easy project to widen. I was right, it would have been easy, here in the US, with all my tools and much, much more temperate weather. Tuesday night we joined one of the PanaGals for a quick trip to the annual David fair. It was a lot of fun with a impressive scenery and, predictably, shopping.
PanaGal and Wife at the Fair
As I said, it looked easy. Enter my Favorite Panamanian, with a decision that we should add broken tile bits to the top to give it a little bit of flair. I mean, I’m all about flair (not so much) but I had anticipated only mixing up and pouring some concrete. I told my wife that we could do it if we could get the instant concrete (just add water) that I’ve worked with back home. We arrived at the Home Depot counterpart and were assured they sold what I described. We had to order it in front and pay for it and then drive into the back yard to have it loaded.Shopping!!
I’ve been in military bases with easier access
than this back yard. I understand the need to keep the very active Panamanian thieves
at bay but we had to sign in, and then sign out after undergoing an inspection for
what we had loaded. I was impressed with the size of the bags and thought the
four I bought would be more than enough. Keep reading to learn how
fundamentally flawed that assessment was. After unloading the car at my mother-in-law’s
house, we were ready to proceed early the next morning. The plan was to do most
of the work before the Panamanian day fully imposed itself. I began early,
excavating while my wife had to go to an appointment so my work crew was immediately
halved. The ancient shovel I was “blessed” with had a tree branch, complete
with bark, as a handle. After a couple hours the skin on my hands was barking
as well, because, well, who brings work gloves for a beach vacation. The Starting Point
I found the trench next to the existing
walkway was a lot deeper than I thought. I had to use some garden stones to
brace up the forms. I began to doubt the amount of concrete we had. I was
correct. I was, however, offered another surprise when I opened the first bag.
There was a bag of cement inside the bigger bag which included some much larger
rocks than I was used to. I eventually figured out they were supposed to be
combined. My mixing bowl was an old plastic washing tub that actually performed
very well. I mentioned earlier about the heat. I had been out there for about
fifteen minutes and found myself completely soaked in sweat. I think they’re
called second thoughts, but the concrete pouring had started and promise made.The Tile Test
My initial pour of the four bags didn’t complete
even the widened portion of the walkway and I was dead in the water since my Favorite
Panamanian had the car and was performing her errands. I sent her a text saying
we would need at least four more bags (yet another underestimation). She acknowledged
the text but remained absent much longer than I thought was required. I joked
with my mother-in-law that her daughter had probably found someone to talk with
and had lost track of time. I tried a Facetime call and, lo and behold, she was
sitting on her favorite aunt’s porch, you guessed it, talking. She did not
appreciate the humor I found in the situation and hung up on me. Two hours
later she showed up with the four additional bags and some work gloves to go
along with an extra attitude towards yours truly!!End of First Day's Work
While I was waiting all day for my wife’s
return, I spent the time breaking up the tiles that would be used for the top
layer. They had been stored at the very back of my mother-in-law’s property.
She shares a fence with her backyard neighbor. The neighbors’ dog did not
appreciate my presence so close to that fence. He didn’t make the announcement
of his displeasure until he was literally two inches from my ear at which point
he launched into the fence and full voice. If I wasn’t so tired I probably
would have jumped out of my skin. My heart eventually slowed down long enough
to complete the task. Since there was still no sign of my
wife, I placed al the broken pieces of tile on site to guesstimate if I had enough.
My still angry wife’s eventual arrival got me back to work. I finished up the
side portion and started the top coat. I soon realized, after starting tile placement,
that the finished look would require an artistic touch that frankly I do not
possess in even minute amounts. I carefully approached my Favorite Panamanian and
admitted I needed her help. I had to swallow the self-satisfied look of
superiority she greeted this request with. The team was back up to two.Wife Explaining Work to Visiting PanaGal
The large rocks in the mix made the top
layer a real challenge so my wife said we had to strain the rocks out to provide
her with the right mixture. We were soon moving right along but my wife soon
realized it was very hot, even for a native Panamanian. I should also hazard a guess
here that neither of us took our age into account when volunteering for this mission.
We made it halfway down the walkway when we ran out of concrete again. It
looked like my anticipated early Thursday return to the beach wasn’t going to
happen.
We got the final needed three bags of
concrete on Wednesday morning and this final estimate finally turned out to be
accurate. We got back at it around 10am and slowly made our way towards the
street. I noticed my Favorite Panamanian was flagging a bit but assumed she was
just being dramatic (not that she is overly dramatic I hasten to add with tongue
firmly in cheek). Since we were performing the work near the street with a
fairly steady flow of pedestrians we had a Venezuelan approach us and ask for
money (lots of Venezuelans transiting through Panama). I dismissed him as my
wife began to lecture him that instead of asking for money, he should have offered
to work. He then offered to work. I hadn’t been following the conversation
since I was decisively engaged with mixing the latest tub of concrete so when she
looked at me questioningly, I simply said “No” thinking she was asking to give the
guy money. He took off at this point while my wife explained my mistake and
that she really needed the help. Another hour later as I was making the last
pour, another guy walked up, a Panamanian this time, and asked if he could
help. My wife immediately agreed and he took over her job. He was a good worker
and had plenty of that artistic gene I am not blessed with. The job was
finished about 3pm. My mother-in-law treated our new assistant to a late lunch
as we sat on the porch admiring our final product. As he and I were exchanging
life stories he literally gasped when I told him I was 66. The oldest he thought
was 55. So, my ego received a much-needed boost although I didn’t break it to
him that my wife was the one that would be paying him, not me.Finished
Speaking of that final product. It will
not win any design or construction awards but it is functional and so much safer
for my mother-in-law. I will also add that it wasn’t a bad effort for a couple
senior citizens with limited experience in the area. In addition, note to self,
working construction in the tropical heat is not something I should be
volunteering for again any time soon. We were both exhausted for the drive back
to the beach. We were approaching the condo complex as the sun was setting only
to find a trench dug completely across the road, just yards from the condo entrance.
I felt a little bit of cosmic retribution aimed my way for not helping the Venezuelan.
The condo neighbor was digging up his water line and decided he could close the
road. Granted there isn’t a lot of traffic but what there was consisted of us
on one side and a pickup truck loaded with coconuts on the other. They got their
back hoe running and plowed a path for us through to reach the condo and blessed
rest.The Trench We Found
Condo Entrance Next to Coconut Truck
Beach Welcomed Us Back
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RECURRING CHARACTERS
BR3 – Blog Reader #3 – granddaughter #3, BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; FBR - First Blog Reader - first
granddaughter, ABFA – Amazing Best
Family Athlete - my daughter in law; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since
high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Soxfather - my brother in law; Great
Aunt - my elder sister; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue
about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten
whom I reunited with after many years; Pittsburgh
College Roommate– high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in
Pittsburgh; Deckzilla – our backyard
deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two
close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3rd musquetera
(musketeer); Riggins - also known as
the Grandpuppy, son's dog; PanaGals
– female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife
accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia
member, Favorite Panamanian - the
wife (of course); First Friday –
celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her
single days in Brooklyn
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