Ha ha, the joke is on Sandy…again!
So I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself, don’t you know. Been staying at home all day, writing, reading, and keeping myself amused. Not drinking, not being silly, not crying. Done with the romantic drama and set squarely in my life. Not sad at all; very focused and disciplined.
And with the furious construction of the street outside my front window finished, I finally have peace and quiet during the day so I can work. I have a project I’m excited to start and two solid months of writing time ahead of me. Life is good.
Today I came home from a walk to find a motorcycle in my yard. And workmen in my yard. Lots of workmen in the yard. Digging up the yard. Look at the workmen digging up the yard! Water pipes – that’s what they’re digging up. Oh no. Water off in the house. Water pipes exposed, truckload of cement bags, a yard full of yelling workmen…
Julian! Help!!
Julian came over to see what was going on. The good news is the water pipes would be replaced in half an hour and the water turned back on. That was the work of the landlord, who owns my house. The bad news is that the land owner, who owns the land itself, has commissioned a wall to be built around the perimeter of the tiny plot on which the house sits, and hence the bags of cement.
There are already walls around the property so it strikes me as an unnecessary and ridiculous project to build a second, interior wall unless she knows about some secret Hun invasion from the next soi over planned for early spring ‘07. Then again, I also cannot for the life of me see what use the brand new 100-yard two-lane superhighway in front of my house serves other than a warm place for the soi dogs to sleep during the day. I’m obviously not on the same page with Thai logic in these matters.
With a sinking heart, I asked Julian to find out how long the construction would take. What I wanted to ask was exactly how long there would be clanging, banging bedlam directly outside my windows all day, every day? For how long would I be living smack in the middle of a construction site? Not sure why I even bothered because I knew the answer even as he was asking the question. It could only be…
Two months.
I did the only sensible thing – thanked Julian, went into the house, locked the door, lay down on the bed and sobbed out all my frustration. Silently, of course, so the greater Nong Khai workforce gathered in my yard wouldn’t hear.
Then I got up and swept. I started to work out a plan. I mean, maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe I can learn to write at night. Do I want this or not? And if I do, how much do I want it? Because if I want something enough I’ll do whatever it takes to get it and nothing will stop me – not dust, noise, workmen, or odd working hours. Nothing.
I decided to give it a week or two. I will give it the old college try and if I find by the end of two weeks that I absolutely can’t remain sane and productive, I’ll figure something else out. I must remember that I am here to write. As much as I like my house, if I can’t work here, I’ll have to either find another house or leave Nong Khai. In the meantime, I will try my best, throw silent temper tantrums when necessary, and continue to trust that everything will turn out fine.
One last fun item from today: My Chinese friend Alannis, who I haven’t seen for a few weeks, visited the garden this evening to say hi. She took one look at me and asked sweetly, “Have you put on weight?” If that’s what passes for polite opening conversation in China, I am scratching that country off my itinerary. For serious. And on a related note, I’m about five pounds and one major construction project away from starting smoking again.
Tags: Nong Khai, Thailand
sandra_101
Construction and weight questions? Jesus! What’ve you gotten yourself into!?