Pool work in progress. Rev's guys showed up a couple of days ago and started removing the old tile. This morning they were here bright and early with their hammers and some sort of big "pounding" things [awls, maybe?] and some sort of tile cutter that sounds like an electric drill - but much louder. The neighbors are probably really enjoying the deafening pounding and such that is going on so bright and early on what is the equivalent to Sunday in the States. But for the fact that they are making a complete mess - and I knew it was gonna be messy - I'm not quite sure what all is going on in the back yard. The two guys keep going in and out of the gate, though, which, of course, keeps The Kids on full alert and they HAVE to bark each and every time that gate opens. [Same two guys, Kids, not new intruders! Go ahead and relax just a little bit. Please? Oh what the heck. Never mind. You are both just doing your job. Carry on... But maybe we could turn it down? Just a notch.]
There is a pile of broken tile parked at the end of our driveway. It will be interesting to see how long it stays there before Rev sends someone with a truck to haul it off. Did he really think the regular trash pick-up men were going to pick that mess up and take it away? The man has already used up his quota of my nerves. He is NOT getting any more. Each and every time DH says something about the pool or the work or questions if the new tile got delivered I tell him he is going to have to call Rev. I cannot bring myself to being thoroughly annoyed and frustrated at the mere thought of dealing with Mr. Yeah Yeah Yeah. DH gets action when he calls. Hey, I'm just a woman, after all, and what do women know about pool repairs and tile work...
Once upon a time, in the not too distant past, there was a Woman who thought she was living the American Dream. Her childhood, although now not particularly memorable, was fairly normal. She went to school. She got a job. She met a tall, blonde and handsome pilot and married him. It was all good. They were the perfect “Ken and Barbie” couple. The handsome pilot built her the house of her dreams in North Carolina, where she thought they would live for the remainder of their many, many days to come. Circumstances, totally out of the control of this lovely Ken and Barbie couple, changed everything. Shortly afterward, they came to find themselves living a whole new life in the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia. Oh, sure, they are still the perfect “Ken and Barbie” couple, but Barbie now wears an abeyah over her designer outfits when she leaves her house, she has given up her pink convertible because she is not allowed to drive, and she no longer has an office that she visits five days a week, instead choosing to spend her time as a stay-at-home wife and an over-protective, doting Mommy to their two absolutely adorable, much loved and very, very pampered four-legged “Kids.”
Pool work in progress. Rev's guys showed up a couple of days ago and started removing the old tile. This morning they were here bright and early with their hammers and some sort of big "pounding" things [awls, maybe?] and some sort of tile cutter that sounds like an electric drill - but much louder. The neighbors are probably really enjoying the deafening pounding and such that is going on so bright and early on what is the equivalent to Sunday in the States. But for the fact that they are making a complete mess - and I knew it was gonna be messy - I'm not quite sure what all is going on in the back yard. The two guys keep going in and out of the gate, though, which, of course, keeps The Kids on full alert and they HAVE to bark each and every time that gate opens. [Same two guys, Kids, not new intruders! Go ahead and relax just a little bit. Please? Oh what the heck. Never mind. You are both just doing your job. Carry on... But maybe we could turn it down? Just a notch.]
There is a pile of broken tile parked at the end of our driveway. It will be interesting to see how long it stays there before Rev sends someone with a truck to haul it off. Did he really think the regular trash pick-up men were going to pick that mess up and take it away? The man has already used up his quota of my nerves. He is NOT getting any more. Each and every time DH says something about the pool or the work or questions if the new tile got delivered I tell him he is going to have to call Rev. I cannot bring myself to being thoroughly annoyed and frustrated at the mere thought of dealing with Mr. Yeah Yeah Yeah. DH gets action when he calls. Hey, I'm just a woman, after all, and what do women know about pool repairs and tile work...
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