I’ve set the alarm on my phone once since we’ve been here. It was back at the old place when we had to catch an early bus and needed to walk five miles to get there. We both woke up before the alarm and I never set one again since we have more natural alarm clocks than we can handle.
I know I mentioned that the people here appear to get up early to make the most of their short time with the sun. Did I also mention that they have no interest in keeping their daylight activities private?
We woke up at 5:40am this morning to our neighbor’s bass-heavy music. I understand that his house is going to someday be renovated as a bar/restaurant (when we aren’t living here anymore) but for now, I’d prefer it didn’t sound like one before 8am. Then we have the singing lessons from a seven year old that sounds like she’s had a few too many on karaoke night and is filled with liquid courage. She belts it into a very unnecessary microphone for us all to hear (normally between 6am and 7am). I don’t applaud when she’s done. And when our pool guy does decide to show up, he gets here early and begins mixing concrete, dumping boulders in his wheelbarrow, shoveling and packing soil – none of which are quiet and are steps from our windows. And the people that have to work alway seems late as they gun their dirtbikes and ATVs down the road sending swarms of bees into my eardrums. One of my favorites though is when we hear Treasure Hunter Ray (who sounds like a slowed down version of Billy Bob Thornton) yell at his dog after he finds a grinder-sized dump outside his door. He says the same thing every time, “Mickey…you a$$hole...”
And if it isn’t the people that are encouraging us to rise and shine, it’s the animals. The bullfrogs wake us up before we’re even able to really fall asleep and the birds sing their own karaoke right outside our window (repeating the same chorus over and over again). Our least favorite is the little black Chihuahua with the big relentless bark between the hours of 1am and 4am and always for no less than 45 minutes without intermission. He barks at…hmmm…let’s see: people, vehicles, frogs, birds, bugs, kids, sun, rain, palm trees, grass, air. Mike loves dogs, especially little, cute ones. Mike has wished injury on this dog (and depending on the hour, threatened to do it himself)…but really, we’d just be happy with a long bout of laryngitis.
When all breathing creatures fail to wake us from our slumber, the rain takes over. Our home, as well as most around here, has a grooved tin roof angled downward that acts like a gutter system all along the top of the house. Gentle drops of water on tin can sound nice as long as they stay light. But light rain here is a base coat for the downpours that are sure to follow. And rain heavy enough to sound like hail isn’t relaxing when it’s clanging on a tin roof. It’s like some standing at the end of our bed swirling pennies in a coffee can.
So let’s just say sleep isn’t something that we’ve done a lot of on this trip, even with no reason to be awake.
No comments:
Post a Comment