Welcome to my humble abode. This is the place where I lived. Actually, this truthfully shows the boys' rooms. I missed my chance to get the outside of my home. Not to worry, I got the inside. Let me give you a tour.
This is our lovely downstairs. It is the place in which Anna and Amanda slept, with all the creepy crawlies. And poor Amanda was continually pestered with our resting on her large bed.
These are the Stairs of Death Part II. I fell down them one morning, I don't know how I survived. They reminded me of the stairs in the cabins at Camp Shalom, for those who understand my reference. Also shown in this photo is a corner of the kitchen. I direct your attention to the small dish rack on the right corner of the counter. Those were the dishes we used for our meals at home. There was no such thing as a dishwasher, so we had to wash them by hand, and quick. If we let them sit for too long the ants would swarm. It was intense.
This is our upstairs. It is where I lived. There was another bed next to the one on the left that you can't see. I was on the bed in the corner on the right - I learned to sit up diagonally after 5 or so consecutive times of hitting my head. Adaptation, prime.
We had a beautiful view out back. It was lovely. It was also wonderful for playing capture the flag.
The shower was a tricky little devil. There was an obvious height difference between me and the shower head. I felt like this guy every time I tried to wash my hair.
That wasn't even the only issue. The temperature was uncontrollable. One minute it was perfect, then it was blistering hot, then I thought I would freeze before I made it out alive. And from time to time the water pressure would disappear altogether, leaving nothing but a wee trickle going down the shower wall while I was stuck with shampoo in my hair. Needless to say, I only entered that shower when absolutely necessary. Sometimes the shower just isn't worth it.
We also had a slight infestation of cockroaches. Along with the rest of the country. No worries, Amanda just killed them with shoes, which we then dubbed (with a sharpie) "The Roach Shoe" and "The Other Roach Shoe." Which, by the way, did not even belong to the same pair. They did, however, belong to the same person. They were Lyndsy's shoes.
I had been telling people for a week that roaches are next to impossible to kill. In all honesty, they are. They can go weeks without food or water. They can live with their heads cut off for weeks, only dying because they can't drink. They can withstand radiation. My dad once put a plunger over one in the bathroom and forgot about it - until it got tipped over and a swarm of roaches ran out. Anyways, this video is an example of this, as Dr. Temperance Brennan of Bones would put it, evolutionary marvel. This guy's guts are outside of his body. 7 hours after the smooshing occured, I took this video.
Lyndsy got an absolutely prime video of the night of the roach slaying. I'm attempting to get it from her. It is absolutely hilarious.
Just for kicks...this is the bathroom that I used while I was building one in the village. It's not the one at Club Coral Coast, ours was inside at least.
Pretty much, these are the things I lived in. Not exactly what you'd call an island suite, but it did the job we needed to be done. Home sweet home.