This is the last week in January and the end of the 3rd month since the house in Merida was supposed to be finished. If I had to bet, and I will not, it will be “finished” by the end of February. Lea and I long for the day when a) we do not have workman showing up and b) when it will not matter that they show up late or unannounced. It is surprising the toll waiting takes on the psyche. We wait for calls; for people to show up; for deliveries; for everything. No one seems to understand that if they say “I will be there at 10:00AM” that that means in the morning as close to 10:00AM as possible and not “I will come when I get around to it and won’t bother to let you know.” It is becoming clear it is almost pathological.
Anyway, we are getting close. We have started finalizing the hanging of art–which settles the rooms down and allows us to peer back into our collective past–since art purchases, made on vacations, is one of our greatest pleasures. The art triggers wonderful remembrances of time wondering Paris, London, New York galleries and relying solely on our instincts in the selection of our art. We especially like buying young artists and then, decades later, discovering that their art has been purchased by MOMA or subject to solo art exhibitions. 
(Such is the case with Rebecca Salter. See http://www.rebeccasalter.com. She has works in MOMA and had a one-woman show at the Yale British Art Museum–they even borrowed some of our pieces.) Our rooms are beginning, slowly, to reveal their personalities and character. It is truly enjoyable to debate the placement of a piece of art to within millimeters. (Only an gifted artist like Lea and architect could get pleasure out of spending hours fussing over millimeters.)
Once all is done, we will begin the process of photographing our home and will reveal what the last 4 years have been all about.
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