I’m an idiot! One of the nicest features of the interior at Mil Colinas, in addition to the stainless kitchen, is the beautiful almond and laurel wood doors and bedroom cabinetry (no, not closets, but semi built-in cabinetry). And then there are the beautiful cedar and almond cabinets in the kitchen and laundry room. And guess what? It’s the end of dry season. Dust is everywhere. It’s like little Pô. Dust-wipe all wood. . . no . . . rather, mop all wooden surfaces with a sopping wet cloth, and then wait 15 minutes for the polish-starved wood to appear dusty again, and wait for dust to reaccumulate. Our interior doors look as though someone blasted them with a dust grenade, or dragged them up the mountain. And bleach. We don't need no stinkin' bleach . . . it might harm the septic system. And I'm the woman who wears nothing but black and white. I've been scrubbing a white linen swimsuit cover-up for 30 minutes.
Bill stresses the importance of becoming well integrated within the Samara community. With Edwardo, I'd say I'm well on my way.
Rusty and I love a philodendron. For years we had one in Texas; his name was Phil. We repotted Phil numerous times as he grew. We moved him indoors in the winter, and outdoors into dappled shade each spring. At some point Phil grew too large for even the largest container, forcing us to plant Phil in the ground. He survived one or two Texas winters (mild ones, probably); and then one winter Phil went to that great greenhouse in the sky. We never had another. Now we have dozens -- I've counted 23 already planted, with more to arrive. Cynthia selected for us, in addition to other wonderful landscaping plants, several philodendrons.
Bill, who (to my knowledge) has never been wrong, says that you can actually hear the plants growing in Samara . . . says they'll keep you up at night, which is going to be quite a feat since the Howler monkeys are out in force this evening. I just spent 45 minutes watering our new lawn . . . you envy my glamorous first weekend in Samara, right? It's going to be a long Saturday night. Lo que hay.