By admin@thesilverpetticoatreview.com 
Happy Monday! I’ve been back home for three days now after a much-needed and relaxing month in France. So, what happens when you leave your cozy little home for a month and count on your handyman to take care of the garden, animals, and house? Absolute chaos.
While I was away, my boyfriend stayed in Guatemala City, and though he called the handyman a few times to check in, the guy’s responses were so slow, vague, and sleepy that my boyfriend eventually gave up.
A couple of days before our return, he called the handyman again, asking him to save our eggs for breakfast instead of eating them. That’s when we found out the hens were barely laying, the rooster had died, and Mrs. Turkey, who had been hatching seven eggs when we left, had no eggs left.
On our arrival, we saw Mrs. Turkey still trying to hatch her non-existent eggs, which made us suspect that the handyman took the eggs for himself. He claimed the turkey eggs had gone bad, but oddly, the obviously bad hen eggs were still around. We didn’t buy his story but chose to stay silent.
About the dead rooster, the handyman had no clue about what happened but conveniently found it dead just before our return. Considering a rooster costs more than his daily wage, we suspect he sold it. Why wait until the last minute to inform us? Upon counting the animals, we found seven chicks missing. He said he didn’t count the small ones and didn’t know how many had died. He never bothered to inform us while we were away.
The agreement was that he would sleep in the house each night and work a couple of hours every morning and evening, totaling about 120 hours over the month. Based on the state of things, we couldn’t justify those hours.
The house was rushedly cleaned, he had planted a few flowers, but the garden was largely untouched, greener only because it rained. I doubt he watered the plants before the rainy season.
Basically, the handyman got a month-long holiday and couldn’t even have 4 eggs ready for our breakfast. Even if the hens had stopped laying, he could have brought eggs from his house after eating or selling ours for a month. Our frustration over the eggs stemmed from a suspicion that someone who steals eggs could steal anything—like animal food. A big bag of corn we bought to help the hens lay more eggs was half-used, and some of the animals seemed starved. Two even died the day we got back, including one of the strongest hens.
My boyfriend was furious and told the handyman off, noting his outstanding debt for a motorcycle didn’t mean we had to tolerate his incompetence and lies. My boyfriend didn’t want to deal with him anymore, so I spent half a day setting up an automated system for cleaning and gardening to minimize our interactions.
That same day, another hen died. My boyfriend asked the handyman to bury it, but after three hours, he came back to find the corpse still in the cage, contaminating the other animals. That was the final straw. My boyfriend asked him if he wanted to leave, and the handyman readily agreed, saving us from the trouble of firing him.
Despite his debt, we told him to go home and bring back the motorcycle papers for collateral. Surprisingly, he returned with his father, who admitted his son was unfit for the job and paid us $300 towards the debt. He has two months to pay the remaining $700 and signed a contract transferring the debt to himself. It’s a small village, and no one wants to be known as a thief.
In the end, things worked out well. We no longer have to monitor the handyman constantly, and our carpenter, who knows about gardening, can take over, while I handle the cleaning. It’s less stressful than dealing with the handyman.
Regarding our 90-acre development, progress is being slowed by the council. We’ve promised to give them land for a football field, school, and small medical center, but they are now complaining about the costs, likely hinting for bribes. But we refuse to engage in corruption.
Because of the delays, we’ll have to let go of the 10 employees building a wall around the property once they finish the entry gate. The wall looks great, and even though it’s just a meter high, it signifies ownership and progress. We’re no longer letting villagers use the land for free pasture.
We anticipated some hurdles as our contractor, enthusiastic about navigating the council, hinted it would be easy due to his acquaintance with the mayor. Now, we face demands for a costly environmental study, unlike any previous projects in the village. We suspect corruption, especially since a public beach near our land was sold off.
Being new in town is tough, but we’re standing our ground against these maneuvers. It’s clear we need to be firm or risk being taken advantage of. I’m off to the council now to tackle these issues head-on!
How are you doing? Ever feel like things are easier when you handle them yourself instead of delegating?