Two weeks ago I told you about the after rainy season clean up. My Power Washer is still in the shop, and we are quickly falling behind; because Christmas is fast approaching and we must be ready for Mayang’ decorations, that can be seen from the Space Station. (Will the liberals allow me to say Christmas?)
It has been suggested that I purchase a new power washer, and I squelched that idea, and pointed out that next, Mayang would want a new car. And I don’t need to start a precedent of that magnitude.
The house is aflutter with Grave Visiting planning for November 1st, The Day of the Dead, Santa Muerte (or All Saints Day) candles to be bought, there is the stocking up on cleaning supplies and paint to spruce up the bone yard, not to mention the food and drink required for a day of sitting in a grave yard with a few thousand other people and the Barangay will prevent you from having a beer, for reasons I’ll never understand.
In Puerto Rico November 1st (Dia de los muertos) was worth looking forward to, parades, music and dancing, food, and the rum flowing like water, and the party lasted until sunrise, where you wake on tombs with a pounding head and a Chicas on your arm. But I’m married now so flush that memory quickly Paul.
Then it happened, the noise was horrendous, then our dog army joined in, I sprung from my seat just knowing we were being invaded and a Zombie Apocalypse was forthcoming, as it’s been known to happen here. Mayang and my daughter reacted in a typical Filipino manner, raising their arms in the air excitedly and running to hide yelling “AYE,AYE, AYE” at the top of their lungs to the back of the house. Well, I was stunned.
Dog Army do the job I pay you for, protect the house. No they were under the New Ole Honda with a bunch of bugged eyes being all you could see. I turn to Little Dude the Jay man (My Grandson) when I remembered his mother sweeping him up during the flight to the rear of the house.
It’s up to me, the “Lone Kano”, to bravely sally forth and face the impending doom. With my trusty weapon in hand (A 12 inch MAG Light full of D-cell batteries) skulking out the side door and creeping up the walkway to the front of the house, where on the ground I noted broken tiles scattered everywhere.
No Zombies or persons of any nefarious ilk are within my line of sight. So the hoards must have been frightened off by the “Lone Kano” or the ladies shouting from within the bowels of the house. There on the front the tiles that were once on the bulkhead (Wall) were now on the deck four of them smashed to smithereens. Oh the humanity of it all, epic destruction and a carnage on a grand scale.
Had someone thrown a rock? Had they been pried loose by some “Tile Guy” seeking work? This was a mystery best left till the sun came up to shed more light on the situation.
The ladies are now outside, the Jay Man looked as confused as I did, and the Tagalog was flowing at speeds I’d never heard before. I went inside after leaving the flashlight in the capable hands of the Little Dude.
The following day my Tile Guy, reports that the rain and wind from all the storms had weakened the adhesive that had affixed them to the wall, and of course he could repair the damage Ricky Tic! (Quickly)
Four hours later the tiles were replaced after finding the replacement tiles under a pole of crap Mayang refuses to ever throw away, I’ve found that I now see the method to her logic. And will forever hold my peace!
It’s never big things that you can talk about in the Philippines, as it’s the little things that will keep you busy for the rest of your life. I’m still not pushing my Power Washer Repairman, as I know he must be very busy.