Sure, I’d save a lot of money if I expatriated to South
America, but I have doubts about my quality of life there after visiting. I
don’t want to stand in long lines every month to pay my bills, nor do I want to
wait weeks on end for a non-English speaking repairman to come and fix my
refrigerator or cable.
I’ve been told by Expats that you just have to roll with
those things, except that I’m NOT a roll-with-it type personality. And
speaking of rolls, in many developing countries you are not allowed to flush
toilet paper. There’s a closed garbage bin next to the commode. – This is what
grossed me out the most about Ecuador! I was calling it ICK!-uador!
However, if my health should take a serious downturn (I had
a recent scare) expatriation could become a necessity! I don't qualify for Obamacare and I doubt I'd
ever be able to afford Trumpcare. I remember when insurance was unnecessary for
a doctor visit or even a hospital stay. This is what our government should be
working toward, but that will never happen. There's too many greedy people in
power (now even more) to prevent it.
The big appeal of living in the Third World was the
affordable health care!
Stay or sell, my house still needs plenty of repairs. Now
that my exploratory trips are over, I've been cutting back on everything else
to afford it!
A few years ago, the $10,000 neighbors moved in next door. I
call them this because that was my cost to keep the peace between us, along
with my privacy. Had the previous person not sold, it would have been
unnecessary! Life is full of big, unexpected expenses, but I don't need to tell
you that!
Now, I'm tackling all those major projects I've put off!
Among other things, my badly cracked driveway has finally been replaced along
with the walkway.
I asked the man in charge to install the new 10 year
batteries I'd purchased for my garage remotes. These old, obsolete models
required a special screwdriver to do it. Well, he really messed them up! Afterward,
rubber bands were required to keep them closed, plus one door would open only
from the inside, and the other would fly up and down like a nervous elevator.
The remotes had to be replaced and I was assured the cost
would be a minimal. They were, however the old motor-boards refused to work
with the updated models! And this was crazy expensive!
Next, my house needed pressure cleaning, before rotting wood
could be replaced and everything repainted.
The latter two, had to wait until the gigantic beehive was
removed from under the peak of my 2-story roof. I wanted the hive relocated,
rather than destroyed. But the beekeeper said that was impossible and the hive
was coming to the end of its cycle anyway. This cost me $350 with
my senior discount!
When I told the pressure cleaner this, he shook his head and
said if he had known, he would have just given it a good shot with the hose and
ran! -- He was the one who first spotted the hive! Why the heck didn't he just
do it then?
The pressure cleaner became my house painter. He complained
that my 2-story home was actually a 3-story because of my attic. I made certain
he had insurance and safety equipment before I hired him.
Also he wanted to change the color of my front door to make
it pop. The door & trim are white and I think that pops nicely on my brown
wood frame home. A friend suggested a yellow door. I told her that I didn't
want a pee-yellow door on my poopy-brown house! So the white stays!
During the work, my smoke detector started beeping. Unable to locate where to remove the battery, even with my strongest pair of
Dollar Store glasses, I asked the painter for help. Well,
he couldn't figure it out either! So I asked him to get me another at Home
Depot since he was going anyway. Also I'd pay him to install it.
The man informed me he did NOT know how to install one. --
I guess he doesn't have a smoke detector in his home! AND he brought back the
old beeping one that was driving me nuts!!! (Geez, why didn't he throw it in
the store dumpster!) I smashed it repeatedly against the concrete until I could
get at the battery to remove it.
Next, I discover a big gob of paint on my bedroom window and
screen. The painter removed my screen and took it home to clean it. When he brought
it back it was all bent to hell with wide openings on each side as well as
beneath where chameleons, bugs, snakes, and lord knows what else could get
thru. Plus my window was now difficult to open.
The painter told me not to worry because it looked fine from the
outside. "But that's not the issue!" I replied.
I've noticed that if you speak to a worker beyond 10 minutes
they tune you out, or outright dismiss you. This irks the heck out of me, it's
disrespectful! Of course during the estimate most (but not all) are friendly, polite,
even a bit obsequious. However, I did have one carpenter tell me in a
condescending tone that he wasn't sure he wanted the job. My jaw dropped. I was
thinking, "I'm the decider here, not you, buster!"
Anyway, my painter arrived early one morning to announce
that his father had died and he planned to finish up that day. He needed to
leave the state and wanted his check, now. Feeling badly for him, I wrote it. He
said he'd phone me after he returned. I had hired this person before and was
pleased with his work, so I was inclined to trust him.
He worked an hour outside and just left! I thought for sure
he would alert me first! Plenty of little touch-up jobs were left undone such
as dripped paint on many of my windows, plus a giant paint puddle under my
front door, not to mention my bent screen! Later, I discovered places where
rotting wood had been painted over rather than removed.
Perhaps I'm getting cynical in my old age, but I'm wondering
if his father actually died or was this the adult equivalent of, "I didn't
do my homework cause my grandmother died!"
-- I once made up a dark joke based on this concept. See bottom of page for this joke.
A month passed and he didn't return my call! My financial
advisor, Bob phoned and tricked him. The man claimed he had lost my number! --
It's listed in the phone book, or he could have gotten it from the operator,
also it's available online.
The work is now completed, but the repairs look patchy to
me. However, I'm just glad he came back and finished!
Friends and others are constantly telling me that this big
house is just too much for me and I should sell and scale down. But I love this
space and the fact it's all mine! Plus I can't abide the thought of strangers
parading thru here and touching my stuff! This is where I prefer to spend my
last days on earth.
My previous home had a steep hill in the back and it
featured a Florida room with sliding glass doors on 3 sides overlooking the St.
Lucie River. The river was a mile wide behind the house and one could see for
endless miles to the right and left. Visitors used to oooh and ahhh at the
sight of it. But I was never happy there!
In this house; I have a 30 ft cathedral ceiling, a big stone
fireplace and a loft, all of these evoke the same reaction from guests. And this
place still takes my breath away when I walk thru the door even after all these
years. Unlike the previous one, this house is 100% mine. Despite hurricanes and difficult
people my life here has been one of tremendous happiness.
MY JOKE:
A teacher
stands sternly before her classroom. "During the 3 days of testing," she says, "no student is
allowed absent except for an emergency, such as an illness or death in the
family."
In the back of the room, a little boy wildly waves his arm.
"Yes Billy, what is it?" the teacher asks.
"Miss Sourglass, I must be absent, my grandmother is
liable to die!"
"Oh poor Billy, you mean your grandmother is ill?"
"No! I mean unless you let me stay out, I'm going to
kill her!"
