Here in Samara I’ve shipped a Davis family heirloom: Rusty’s mom’s Irish linen table napkins, embroidered white-on-white with small flowers. What was I thinking as I packed these white linens? I have no idea why I shipped a cashmere scarf, nor why we brought Rusty’s woolen sweater that we purchased in Tromsø, Norway. I really don’t know how the scarf slipped in; but I concede that we made a conscious decision to bring the sweater. In fact, we joked that we’d frame it in a picture-box type frame and just consider it a souvenir of our travels. Now that it’s all here and we have zero storage (and few walls on which to hang any art, much less a picture-box), it seems incredulous that we made the conscious decision about the sweater.
Here's the important how-we-did-it part of the pallet arrival: they arrived in Samara less than two weeks after we did. Two words: Shipping CR! Yes, you've heard nightmare tales of containers and/or pallets languishing in Customs for months. And yes, there were times when we believed that our five pallets would never arrive, or never make it up the mountain, or arrive in a pillaged state. But, joy, they made it in what must be record-breaking time, looking just as they did the day we said farewell, with nary a broken piece of Waterford (again, a stunningly stupid decision in a world where plastic should be a law).
First, let's look at the pool deck area, being on level II . . . versus the home, which we'll call level I. Remember the lot when we first saw it? The lot, all 1.65 acres, more or less, has undergone many changes in the relatively few months since then, starting with that drop-off-corner of the terrace. Level I is now truly level, with a sloping hill and stairs leading down to level II, the pool deck. I can't imagine how Lubos performed this Herculean feat, though massive retaining walls were involved . . . and a bunch of dirt, which undoubtedly came from excavating the swimming pool.
Look at those silvery posts placed above the retaining wall. Exciting? Not yet. Though the row of palms ain't shabby. They practically line the perimeter of the property now, creating enough privacy to bound naked around the home . . . not that I'd ever do such a thing . . . frightening the monkey neighbors. Anyway, you'll soon see what this railing has become . . . not the least of which is a warning to our terrier not to bolt off the mountain side.
And in addition to the pool [lovely, isn't it] we've got the railing along the full perimeter of the retaining walls, now with an oil-rubbed bronze faux finish, surrounding Costa Rica's prettiest retaining wall.
Stay tuned for more speed of light changes on the mountain. So, how do normal humans create a photo gallery in blogs without having to fill up the negative space with nonsense text? More importantly, as to keeping that Irish linen well-pressed . . . lo que hay.