See my new Baja kitchen? Isn’t it beautiful? The stove isn’t hooked up yet and neither is the hot water because the propane line isn’t finished—but it’s a custom dream kitchen from heaven, with an ocean view to match.

Have you ever lived in a house or worked in an office while it was being remodeled? If you have, then I know you know what a nightmare it can be! I come from a construction family, so I’ve witnessed something spectacular arising out of chaos and filth many times. I’ve tiptoed around stacks of plywood and two-by-fours and tried not to trip over piles of blocks, rocks and sand. I’ve navigated around power tools, shop vacs, sawhorses and piles of furniture and boxes covered in plastic to keep the dust out of every imaginable nook and cranny. I lived through an office remodel once and had sinus problems for three months. But I still had a place to go home to at night with a functional kitchen and living room. I was still able to take a hot shower whenever I felt like it.

Remodeling is actually harder than building from scratch. If you’re starting from ground zero, you get yourself temporary quarters during construction. Not so with remodels. When you’re remodeling, you get to live in and with the insanity. Add to this picture the fact that we’re remodeling a house in Mexico. It’s a bit more challenging than doing it here. For one thing, you can’t buy everything you need in Mexico. Some materials, like shower liners, faucet fixtures and kitchen sinks are easier to get at Home Depot. Plus, everything you bring across the border is subject to taxation if you get pulled into Secondary, so we tend to bring things in small quantities over lots of trips. That’s just the beginning. After that you have to find someone reliable to do the construction, and you have to be able to reach them by phone periodically.

Our friend, Russ built our kitchen, but the local plumber we hired showed up sporadically, and not always when we were there to meet with him. I was the one delegated to communicate with him because my Spanish is fairly functional—but I could barely understand a word he said! He mumbled—in fast forward. Then Russ’ cell phone quit working. We have to prepay air time for cell phones down in Baja—and it runs out fast! Every time I tried to call, a recording in Spanish would inform me that the number was temporarily “disponible,” which I took to mean, “out of order.” In reality, it meant, “out of dinero!”

Okay. Back to the kitchen. It was supposed to take a month. It took three. On Labor Day we cleared everything out of our makeshift kitchen. At the time, we had a stove and refrigerator. We had a banquet table with crates and boxes underneath for “cupboards.” We had a hose coming through the window and a dilapidated sink unit that looked to be about 30 years old. We had two buckets under the sink to collect water. That was it.

We hauled the sink unit out to the patio. We stacked the couches on top of each other. We boxed up whatever wasn’t already in boxes and piled everything around the edges of the living room.. We jammed the stove and refrigerator in front and moved the rest of the stuff into the extra bedroom—so there would be enough room for Russ to work. Terry hooked a small propane bottle to the stove so we could still cook. The fridge was still plugged in. I did my best to put the boxes with our necessities (like coffee, cups, paper plates, utensils and a few canned goods) within reaching distance.

I left that weekend, thinking that by my birthday three and a half weeks later, I’d  waltz in, put everything away in my new cupboards, sweep the floor, dust a little and make myself right at home. I even planned a party for that Saturday night. Silly me!

When I showed up, Russ was fairly far along—but nowhere near finished. Believe it or not, I threw the party anyway. I used the stove, the fridge, the barbecue and the outside sink with the hose. Luckily the weather cooperated, so everyone hung outside. Then, Russ took the month of October off to put a new (necessary) roof on his own house. We came down twice in October and it rained hard both times. There was nowhere to sit in our house, except on a bed or on the toilet. Honest! There were piles of sodden sawdust and construction stuff all over the patio. I couldn’t bathe. I left swearing that I wouldn’t return until the kitchen was done. Actually, I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to come back!

I didn’t come back for a month and a half. But this past weekend, I did. The metamorphosis from construction nightmare to dream kitchen took my breath away. In retrospect, it was all way worth it! But—you know—there’s still the matter of the bathroom. The new shower (made of beach rock and glass block) isn’t ready yet. It’s close. Russ told me that when we come down after Christmas, we’ll be showering—in hot water!

Visions of my birthday weekend dance through my head when I remember those words. If you find the holidays distracting up here, you ought to try Mexico! Down there, house guests (unexpected or expected) can derail anyone’s work plans in a heartbeat. I’m expecting house guests over New Years—ones who like to bathe! So, cross your fingers for me on that one, will you?!

© Ann Hazard, 2000. No part of this article may be reprinted without permission.
This story is featured in Ann's newest book, Agave Sunsets.
 Reprinted from The Coast News, December 21, 2000.
 

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