One woman's ceiling is another woman's floor . . .

We live in a fabulous neighborhood. It's along the coast and we are about a 15 minute walk to the beach. While we do have lots of hotels and visitors, this neighborhood is nestled between two bigger and better-known tourist areas so it's relatively calm for a holiday destination and traffic is not a problem. This community has more of a "village" feel to it, which I really enjoy. We have everything you need within walking distance: restaurants, coffee shops where the waiters know me and say "bom dia" and bring me my bica and mini bola berlim sem creme without my asking, banks, grocery stores, post office, dry cleaners - all the necessities of life.

This area was once full of wealthy people living in stately homes with plenty of room for the live-in staff. While only a few of these mansions remain (even after having been converted into apartments), it's still considered a good neighborhood and is full of charm. (You can just imagine that I like a bit of that!) And almost everyday I actually say (out loud), "I love it here!"

So it is coming from this perspective that I was surprised to see a "for sale" sign on the balcony of one of the upstairs apartments in my building. The woman whose apartment is for sale said that she hasn't been happy one day in her apartment or this neighborhood. She said that she is a "simple person" and that most of the people who live in this neighborhood are snobs.

I'm shocked. She's lived here for 23 years - that's a big chunk out of one's life. As I thought about this, I can only hope that she somehow feels that she "needs" to find a reason to move closer to her daughter. Oftentimes it's hard for us to make a change and we feel that we have to "justify" our choices so we indulge in negative thoughts which then warrant action. I hope that her flat sells soon, that she settles somewhere near her daughter in a neighborhood full of friendly faces and that one day she can look back on her time spent here in Mt. Estoril and smile.

In the meantime, I'm repainting the built-ins that I never finished painting before we moved in, and I'm listening to Jimmy Buffet, grinning ear to ear, and feeling lucky to be here!

Go figure - one woman's ceiling really is another woman's floor . . .