the backyard

After living in Panama a year (our rent was raised) we decided to buy a house.  I took on the house-hunting, and it was very discouraging.  I would optimistically get into the realtor's car only to view huge, air-conditioned monstrosities with postage stamp yards.  I didn't see one place I liked.  I wanted to live in the city, not a suburban gated community.  I wanted a walking-distance, supermarket,  and a nice park for the kids.  I also wanted a yard.  The neighbourhood we were living in had this kind of house, but there didn't seem to be any places for sale around that we could afford.

One day, on my way to the store, I saw an inconspicuous for-sale sign.  I immediately called the realtor and made an appointment.  The first appointment was cancelled by the owner.  I made another appointment; she cancelled three times before I finally got to see the house.  It really seemed like it wasn't going to happen.  The woman suffered frequent migraines and in fact, when I did finally see the house, she was in bed.

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One look at the backyard and I knew it was our house.  We've lived here almost three years now and I was not wrong.

Nepenthe

hedge

budding bastón del rey

home to iguanas