Gawd it was a long day! I’m so friggin’ tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open. I’ll apologize in advance for any spelling, grammar errors and typos, ‘cause I know I can’t muster the energy to check it all afterwards.
I’ll start at the beginning so you know why. Hah.
I went to bed early, as planned…though not as early as I should have. For some reason I could not get to sleep, and when I finally did, I kept waking up and there was no excuse for it…well, Trin Trin (the monster boxer) was the evil doer at one point, but that’s not unusual. When I finally did fall asleep, the alarm seemed to go off with dawn’s arrival.
I blink at the ceiling, momentarily at a loss as to why the alarm goes off, but then remember and quickly start on the morning rituals. We have a busy schedule ahead of us today, and I need to get to it, if we want to make it all in time.
After dressing, bringing the dogs to the house, having a quick coffee and then hurrying back up to the car, big brother and I are right on time for today’s plans and head to the city in the company of our friend Danni who has offered to chauffeur us for the occasion…again.
We are on our way to Traffico (DMV, basically) where big brother and I can get out temporary drivers license that will see us through the next couple of months until we receive our permanent one. Upon reaching the city there is a moment of confusion, along with annoying (not so pleasant) nostalgia when we get lost in the exact area where we did our exams. Finally we reach our destination and are lucky enough to find a tiny parking spot outside the huge building where large crowds are wiling away the hours to handle their business.
Figuring that there will be a long wait, I head for the bathroom first thing, leaving it to big brother and Danni stand in line for the information desk. Three minutes later when I re-emerge, they are nowhere in sight, so I head into the crowd, and see them stand at the service booth.
The entire procedure is over in less than a minute. Our IDs get a fleeting glance and then this tiny bit of paper gets printed and we’re on our way out. It’s all a little anticlimactic, and I say as much to big brother and Danni when we head outside to return to the car.
I get in behind the wheel, finally carrying a genuine Spanish Permiso de Conducir and start the engine to set us on our way. It feels strange to be in the truck again after more than a year, especially after having had the lessons in the tiny Seat Ibiza. It’s a good strangeness, however. The seating is so much higher, almost like a chair, and the view of the traffic around me far less daunting as we head west in the direction of home.
Rather than wasting another trip, I drive Danni to the senior home, where the woman she takes care of these days, spent over a month to make sure that she didn’t forget anything, and then we’re heading towards the consulate to pick up the younger sibs’, grandpa’s and mom’s passports, which should have arrived.
Since our passports will be run out in the next month as well, we need to renew ours as well, and arrive at the office two hours before closing time. There’s only one couple before us when we arrive, and since we have already printed and filled in the necessary forms it takes only a short amount of time to get everything done. The pictures are correct, and only the date and location need to be added before the task is done and we’re on our way again, carrying the rest of the family their IDs with us.
Big brother gets in behind the wheel this time, setting us on the way to town where we need to make a quick stop at a supermarket. The driving goes well, all the technicalities that got pounded into our brains during the lessons blissfully subsiding when old routines return and we head on home, infinitely relieved to have most of “official” business dealt with.
It is a beautiful day (though I could have done with a bit more moisture in the air), the sun shines brightly, not a cloud is in sight, and a cool southern breeze swirls upward from the sea. You can’t have a better day for construction, really.
When we arrive home and have shared the morning’s events with grandpa, big brother and I are certainly up for some relaxation and resort to going online to read up on the latest news, answer our messages and then surf the forums of choice. We want to edit some, but what with the day rapidly advancing we really can’t seem to get ourselves to it.
Besides, I am barely done with my messages when it is time to head on out into the yard, where another truck full of rocks is waiting to be unloaded.
That done, grandpa and I get back into the car to head for the local construction company. We have planned to start on the wall today, so with that in mind we need to get sand and cement.
Upon arrival and ordering the huge bag of sand, grandpa and I agree that we might have made a slight miscalculation in the size of our order. As the weight slowly lowers in the truck bed the separation between metal and hind wheels, literally decreases a foot, making an extremely return trip inevitable.
Never going over 15 miles per hour, we slowly head back home. The truck feels like it’s struggling through mud all the way, but in the end we manage to get it home where the younger sibs and big brother are already hard at work hauling stones to where we’ll need them.
For a while we debate whether or not the truck cane make its way done (the incline is rather steep) but even this goes without much trouble. In the end, with back of the truck sticking out of the carport a few inches, the large cement mill is put in place and is connected to power…nothing.
The machine has not been used for almost two years now, and after half an hour of checking wires and connections we find that it’s the on and off button that is causing the problem. In the end big brother circumvents the switch entirely and we’re ready for business.
Since the sand bag is so high and full, it is decided that I will make the first batches of cement while the sibs start on the wall. I do have to say that with this kind of work it doesn’t matter at all that there is no time for a workout. Using a shovel to get sand from shoulder height does the trick really well. Hah.
Six batches later with two wheelbarrows full of fresh cement paste, big brother’s back is bothering him somewhat fierce (while I got supplies, he was lugging seventy pound rocks around) so we change places. He’ll get the last batch into a wheelbarrow and clean everything up, while I head down to spend the last half hour of daylight, finishing off the cement already made.
With middle sister shoveling cement where we need it, little brother supplying the right rocks, little sister and I add another foot of rock to the beginnings of a wall that stretches to a length of fifteen feet at least. Though backbreaking and lengthy, this kind of masonry is the most fun. It’s like puzzling. You see a particular spot of some indistinct shape, and look at a pile of rocks to guess which one is going to fit.
It takes time and experience, but when doing this kind of masonry you get a certain feel for it. It is quite satisfying when you pick out a rock and find that it fits exactly where you want it. And as time passes, you get to find the perfect fit faster and continuously, just because your eyes manage to guess the right dimensions.
When doing this kind of building, I’m often constantly talking (to the rocks it seems, hah), which goes something like this: “I need that one! No, not that one. The one with the bend on the right and the point on the top. Yes, that one. Lemme see, oh, yes you’re going to fit right there, lemme just turn it so…no, this way, yes, beautiful. Perfect.” It makes the younger sibs chuckle, really, but I can’t help it.
By the time we finish up for the day (everyone’s more than a little tired) we have the wall up to a foot and a half, which is a solid start to say the least.
Though mom has a stir-fry noodle dish waited, I cannot have dinner yet. There’s a big batch of laundry to be taken down and a new one that needs to be hung, so I get to that before my system crashes…which I know it will, just as soon as I relax.
With muscles sore from the work and energy levels already low from twelve hours wakefulness, it takes me a little longer than usual to get the day’s laundry done, but finally I’m done and happy for it.
I quickly wash up, change into sweats and then get my dinner. It’s spicy and what with the extreme dryness in the air today my lips are chapped to a point that food actually hurts. I’m too darn hungry to care, though.
My system…everyone’s actually…crashes the moment I relax, just like I knew it would, and I lounge in a chair for a couple of hours. Though I make an effort for keeping my fingers busy by picking off an endless amount of ticks off the multitude of dogs that keep coming in reach for that very purpose, it seems, the last thing I do before heading to my cabin an hour early is hang another batch of laundry.
The usual evening ritual ensues, though at a far more sedate pace than usual, after which I finish today’s blog and hope for a restful night. I sure need it after being up for a full nineteen hours. Hah.
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