After a stormy day, the night was quiet and cool - the first night blankets didn't seem like an exercise in idiocy to me. They still were, I discovered at 3a, but at least they were LESS sweaty and idiotic. I awoke in the morning to the smell of coffee and a home unnecessarily prepared for disaster - and thankfully so.
As breakfast was prepared, I helped arrange the house back to it's normal state - moving furniture and resetting bamboo blinds above the windows to let the breeze and sun back in. On the blinds we discovered a gecko egg - discovered by accidental squashing, ick. I, of course, was impressed and interested in it and began asking questions - geckos are one of my favorite things about island life. Eager to please, as ususal, the Smallest Roommate dragged me and my coffee mug to the master bath to show off the two hatched gecko eggs nestled in the strike plate of the door in the photo above. Such interesting things lurk all around! I suspect there is an entire gecko society operating above our heads and around the corners at all times over here. Council meetings, HOAs, commuter roads - just a few scenarios they might discuss while shimmying around on the overhead beams.
Housing discussions aren't just for geckos. The space that's been offered to me requires a bit of fixing up to make it really comfortable - and there is quite a bit of back and forth about what is necessary and what isn't needed or wanted. A roof needs repair, but it's worth it to do the whole roof at once instead of in increments and extend it over the lanai that is being debated as an option but you'd need to raise the roofline several inches to move the doors to the other side of the building and they might look wierd next to the windows and the stove needs to be taken out and there is a tiny fridge and do we want to close that alcove in the kitchen and move it to the other side as a closet and how does it all fit together and the shower needs to be grouted but they tiled it wrong inthefirstplaceandnowtheroofneedsto... As I'm still on the fence about my long term plans and island living it's hard for me to weigh in on what should be done. Where do you set a boundry when the lines are blurry? It's not a place I own - but I'll be contributing to the finances to make repairs and improvements happen - but it's really for the owners to decide what they do and don't want to have done to their property. HOW DOES THIS WORK?! I'm just going to head in with an attitude of abundance and let the world fall around me as it will. I've never been failed when I actually try to do something. Avoiding issues? Terrible results. So I'm going to try to reach towards the day remembering there isn't a wrong way to live. Choosing quiet isn't a bad thing. Waiting to know more isn't a bad thing. Uncertainty is uncomfortable but definitely not fatal.
This morning when I began this I thought I'd move here for sure. At this moment, sitting in the dark listening to the insects outside creak and chirp, head spinning with container shipping quotes and pet quarentines and money matters - I don't know. I'll start thinking about it again in the morning.
Today (tonight) in island living we cry ourselves to sleep, wishing for answers and stability and a cat to purr with his face pushing into ours. I miss you so much, little cat face in my cozy little nest in the city I know with the friends I love. I miss you a lot.