Yesterday Augusto came by to put in the gate for our new fence.
Now his work is done and we wait for the fabro. I don't know what a fabro is called in english. He is the man who works with metal - you know, cutting it, sticking it together with fire, etc. "Ironman" doesn't sound quite right. Is "Blacksmith" a word still in active duty or was it retired when our mode of transportation stopped wearing shoes? Anyway...
We're not exactly sure when the Fabro is coming. He said the end of the week. But then he also promised that the whole fence would have been done two weeks ago. I'm not really in a huge rush. I mean, what the hell, we've lived here now 5 years without a fence. What's another week or two (or three...let's be realistic about this)?
Truth be told, it'd never occurred to me to even put in a fence. I mean, come on, given the scope of the other projects that need doing here at Casa Cornwell, well, a fence? Yeah, not really in the top 10. That is until David and I took on two new roommates who have a propensity for chasing Pandas.
Just for the record...there are wild boar in Maberga but no panda bears...I was referring to the beautiful Fiat car called Panda - which all our neighbors own.
Shortly after these roommates got comfortable in Maberga, discovering their love of lemons and small, easy to catch cars, David got a job which takes him away from home for big stretches of time. (was that timing coincidental?) The combo prompted the new entry to the list of things that need to get done to our little house on the mountain. It is, in case anyone was wondering, the only item on the list that involves keeping things IN rather than OUT.
So, as I was saying, I'm not in a huge rush for this fence, as long as it's done before David starts traveling again.
Besides, I need a little time to figure out this mental disconnect that happens every time I approach the house now. It goes like this:
walk up to house.
reach out to open gate.
look around to see if anyone just saw me try to go through a free standing gate.
walk around gate.
What can we understand about a person who, coming upon a gate, has a natural reflex to walk through it, even when it is completely unnecessary? Is this part of human nature in the 21st century or would it peg me (and other gate seekers) into a specific Myers-Briggs type?
I'll keep you posted on my insights into this...I'm guessing I'll have a little time to think about it.