JANUARY 2006: “Life Between Two Seas!” [continued]

As January's days dwindled down to a precious few, we began to feel like the cats as they gazed longingly out Lamelot's office window: cooped up and claustrophobic!

Our move-in date had been pushed back so many times for so many months that we felt, once again, that we would never move. Let's see, didn't we feel that way in Ventura, too? We decided that to move would mean compromise, any compromise, even a front door that wasn't secure. That is, once we had a front door. So, we hinged it all on the front door: when it goes in, we move. There wouldn't be a kitchen (still waiting on the granite counters that everything would be mounted to), there wouldn't be a master bath or my bathroom (ditto), and lots of things were still in the "final detail" stage that usually took weeks to "finalize"—that seems to be a modus operandi here: start but never finish every job!

Then, suddenly one Monday...we had a front door! Hoohah! "Whoops...say, isn't that speak-easy opening a little big? And isn't there supposed to be a speak-easy door with iron bars? What the hey!?!?"

And there you have it: we had a front door, but you couldn't secure it. Anyone could stick their arm through the speak-easy and turn the dead-bolt. ¡Allã la peste! Okay, so what to do: go ahead and move-in or call it a deal-breaker? Actually, there wasn't any doubt, even with the security problems: MOVE IN!

And that's what we planned. The following Saturday, after los muchachos left for the weekend, we would begin hauling everything in Lamelot to Casa Ingaso. Meantime, we spent nearly every day there doing anything and everything we could to get the place ready—we were virtually living there already. Of course, our days were bouyed by the prospect of jumping in Ingaso's pool once los muchachos left for the day. So, everything was done with an eye to that magical time, 4:30 pm, when we would have the place to ourselves. Hoohah!

Actually, that had been our custom for some time: evening dips in the pool. They were glorious under ever-shifting, cloud-strewn, polychromatic skies with Picacho adding the drama (click here to see an evening or two). It was just a taste of what it would be like, but a taste that made you want a whole lot more. Now, we lived for the day we wouldn't have to go away after our twilight swim, the day we would officially become Ingaso dwellers.

So, our sights were set on Saturday; once the cervezas were downed by los muchachos, we would begin the transition. It was kinda exciting to realize that it would be the last time we had to use those damn plastic trays to make ice all week in Lamelot's bread-box-sized freezer section in order to keep los muchachos' cervezas cold on Saturday—we were going to have a freezer that made ice automatically. O the wonders of the modern age!

When Saturday rolled around, we thought we were ready. I mean, we'd made lots of trips with stuff, so how much more could there be? Stupid question. Early morning, TC and Jessica made a trip down the hill with the cats to finish their shot series, and got back just in time to load the car with stuff and run it and the ice chest of beer over to Ingaso. Then, it was a matter of twiddling our thumbs while waiting for los muchachos to finish them ("How long does it take to drink a beer? Sheesh!"). Usually, it's a fun time, the guys loosening up as the alcohol goes to work, with laughter and raucous talk, but that particular cerveza party dragged on and on. We unloaded the car while we waited, but...

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