A Dishonest Contractor, a Broken Promise, and the Argentine Legal System

For those of you who don't follow my blog, this year my folks decided to divide one of our properties in half, essentially turning it into a duplex in order to get two rents out of the property instead of one.

They had hired a contractor who claimed he could handle everything from tree cutting to electrical work, plumbing, and construction. This was actually great because the property seriously needed all of that, and we thought we had found a Jack of All Trades.

Unfortunately, we hit a couple of snags, which I mentioned in previous posts. Some of those included multiple break ins and acts of vandalism on the property being renovated.

We tried all types of chains and locks, but these vandals kept cutting through everything over and over again. With each break in, we ended up needing more money to make repairs.

The first image shows what was left of one of the locks. This happened to four other locks of the same design. The second image shows that they attempted to saw through this lock but couldn't.

Then, in July, things got even more complicated.

The contractor we hired to do the renovation work royally screwed us when he took our money for labor costs but failed to complete the job we had hired him to do. In addition, he had asked us to buy the materials needed to complete repairs to the house and replace things like bathroom sinks and toilets that the vandals had destroyed. A short time later, he claimed that the materials we bought had been stolen from his truck. Not long after that, he said he was sick and had to hold off on the renovations. But he promised he would resume working on the property as soon as he felt better. Several weeks passed, and my mother insisted that he contact her via WhatsApp. After ghosting her A LOT, he finally responded, claiming he had been hit with a case of depression and needed to take a break until he recovered.

Like most swindlers, he resorted to using words like "The Lord," "God Bless," and "I'll pray for you" whenever she demanded that he get to work or return the money we had given him.

We paid him in dollars, a rarity in Argentina, and we suspect he used that money to either buy property, take a trip, or do something else equally expensive.

Despite several attempts by my mother to reach him via WhatsApp, the contractor kept giving her the runaround.

Finally fed up with him, she once again demanded that he return our money. He claimed he couldn't because he didn't have it. Not anymore, anyway. In other words, the son of a bitch had spent it on something other than the work he should have done.

Our realtor, who had experience dealing with these types of silver tongued devils, tried negotiating with him on our behalf but eventually grew frustrated when nothing came of it. She told us she didn't think the contractor would ever pay us back and that our only recourse was to hire a lawyer.

My mom was reluctant because of the attorney fees and the long term prospects of dealing with the Argentine legal system, which is pure garbage.

She continued her conversation with the guy via WhatsApp, which resulted in nothing more than raising her blood pressure and undoubtedly contributed to the health issues I mentioned in my previous post. Unable to handle the stress of this ongoing back and forth, she asked me to take over.

I tried being diplomatic when I reached out to the guy. I even came up with a payment plan for him to return what amounted to approximately 11 million Argentine pesos, but he refused my offer. So I reached out to the realtor, who had a law firm she worked with, and she arranged for them to review our case.

I forwarded the attorney every single receipt and document bearing the contractor's signature. He accepted the paperwork but said everything was sloppy. Admittedly, he wasn't wrong. I had no involvement in drafting the original contract. My mother had handled that, and I was confused as hell when I first saw it. But as far as paperwork was concerned, it was all we had.

We also had audio recordings and text messages that incriminated the contractor, but the lawyer said he wasn't interested in seeing those, at least not for now.

He also told me he had scheduled a face-to-face meeting with the contractor and  that he wanted to chat with me first over the phone to get a clearer picture of what was happening. Well, by the end of the conversation, the lawyer seemed to think that our chances of winning this case was 50/50 at best.

His comment left me very concerned.

The next day, I called to ask how it went, and the lawyer told me that the contractor hadn't even shown up or returned his call.

I once again offered to share the audio recordings and text exchanges between my mother and the contractor that incriminated him. Again, the lawyer said they weren't necessary. At this point, I was getting pretty upset because any lawyer back home would have jumped at the opportunity to tear this guy apart and would never turn down evidence that could help us win the case. But the legal system in Argentina sucks, and the lawyers aren't the sharks who go after assholes like this contractor.

As frustrating as all this was, I've learned over the last 14 years in Argentina that sometimes you have to take a breath and let the extremely slow Argentine process run its course. Getting worked up or demanding that the lawyer hurry the fuck up wouldn't have worked in my favor. He would have likely cut me loose, leaving us with nobody to handle the case.

So, as of this post, whatever happens next is a freaking mystery. My guess is that nothing major is going to happen and that by the time anything remotely resembling a resolution comes about, one or both of my parents will be gone, and I'll be stuck with an unfinished half of one of our properties and a ton of attorney fees.

With all these damned legal issues, my mother's health problems, and my father's dementia, it's a wonder we even managed to celebrate Halloween this year. But we did, and it was actually a really nice celebration for my husband and I. 

I'll write more about it in my next post.

An Ailing Mother, Mounting Responsibilities, and the Loneliness of Expat Life

Man! How do I start this?

Over the last three years, my mother has suffered a couple of health setbacks. The scariest moments came when she contracted pneumonia and had to be hospitalized in 2024. It seemed like she was a goner for sure!

Luckily, she fought hard and came out a winner, or at least that's what it seemed like. Within days, however, her behavior began to change. Anyone who knows her as well as I do knows that she has moments when she can be extremely pleasant and others when she can be excruciatingly unkind. But this was different. She had become almost psychotic and delusional, and yet her doctors seemed more focused on her physical health, which appeared to be improving, than on her mental health, which seemed to be deteriorating.

Then, after a couple of months, my mother's behavior stabilized. She was once again herself (for the most part, anyway).

Fast forward to September 2026, and we had another healthcare scare. Only this time, it wasn't pneumonia. It was a stroke, or at least, she was convinced it was.

I was teaching one of my online ESL students when a WhatsApp message popped up on my screen telling me that she was on her way to the hospital. I immediately ended the class and called her. It turns out she was already at a private hospital, but the wait time was too much for her. So, she told me she was heading home.

The first thing that came to mind was, "Why not stay there? If you're having a stroke or are at risk of having one, the hospital is the best place to be. If you go home and have one, you could suffer permanent brain damage or worse."

She told me she was going to wait for her family physician to see her in a couple of weeks. She was convinced she would be okay until then. I disagreed and was a bit pissed, but I knew better than to try to change her mind.

The next day, while I was teaching, I received another WhatsApp message from my mom telling me that she had called an ambulance and needed me to come over right away.

I was paralyzed for a second, and my student noticed the look on my face. I apologized and ended the class immediately before running over to my mother's house. It was at that point that I realized just how out of shape I was. I gassed out halfway there and couldn't run anymore, so I walked as fast as I could. Luckily, the house wasn't too far away.

I was expecting to see an ambulance outside her house. After all, most ambulances arrive within five or ten minutes of a call. At least, that's what would have happened if we were still living back home in the States. But things in Argentina are slow AF! I mean, seriously! Everything here moves at a snail's pace and, in a lot of cases, not at all. There are times when I wonder how they manage to get anything done in this country.

Anyway, the door was open, and my father was waiting outside, as calm and collected as I had ever seen him. The poor bastard has dementia, and it's gotten worse over the years. There are times when his sense of reality becomes completely distorted, and he gets paranoid and violent. Other times, he doesn't really understand what's going on but remains calm. This was one of those times. He merely greeted me as though it were just another ordinary day.

I asked him if he had an ETA on the ambulance, and he casually said, "No." Then I asked him if my mom was okay. All I got was a shrug. Realizing I wasn't going to get a straight answer from him, I rushed inside, where my mom was sitting in the living room with a damp cloth covering one side of her face.

She seemed so fragile, hardly resembling the tough (and sometimes harsh) person she usually is.

I sat beside her, expecting to wait just a couple more minutes for the ambulance. Well, those minutes turned into an hour and ten minutes. WTF!

When the ambulance finally arrived, two EMTs came inside and checked my mother's vitals. After a few minutes, they determined that she wasn't having a stroke but was at risk of having one or even suffering a heart attack because of her blood pressure, which was around 180 over 60. Normally, 120 over 80 is considered the standard.

They gave her a pill to lower her blood pressure and wrote her a prescription for additional medication to take until she had a chance to see her own doctor.

I learned that day that, unlike in the States, Argentina doesn't have paramedics riding around in ambulances. Instead, they have doctors doing what paramedics do back home, hence this doctor's ability to prescribe medication on the spot.

After they left, my mother checked her blood pressure a couple more times using her home BP monitor, and it had indeed dropped from 180 over 60 to 150 over 60. Although the numbers fluctuated, her blood pressure still hadn't returned to normal.

Over the past couple of weeks, she has seen several doctors and undergone a number of blood tests, urine tests and CT scans. According to the results, her high blood pressure is the result of the natural wear and tear of aging.

She's 79.

I'm sure the fact that she got scammed by an asshole Argentine construction worker back in July played a role in her blood pressure issues. I'll talk more about this piece of shit in another post.

So, for the time being, I've taken on the role of administering the properties full-time, while my mother has stepped away from those responsibilities completely. Believe me, this is a huge change, considering how involved she has always been.

Now, if there's one thing I can say about my mom, it's that she's a fighter. But her latest health woes, which include a recently discovered gallstone, have made her less active. In fact, the other day, she told me she was already worn out by 2 p.m.

I'm not blind. I know what this likely means. Her time on this Earth may be coming to an end. I'd say another year is optimistic.

So, as you might imagine, this has been one stressful year for me. Honestly, I know I can handle whatever comes my way, but a little support would be nice. Unfortunately, the people I thought were my friends have either stabbed us in the back or ghosted us. And dealing with everything practically all by my lonesome is rough, especially when you're living abroad and have no one to turn to.

I'm starting to crack like an egg, and I worry about what's coming next. But for now, I'm trying to stay focused on the things that make my husband and I happy, like preparing for Halloween (which just passed), planning Thanksgiving, and looking forward to saying goodbye to shitty 2026 with Christmas and our New Year's celebration.

I suppose that's all I can do for now. Take things one day at a time, deal with whatever comes my way, even though I am running on empty.

Halfway to Christmas 2026: A Spooky Celebration for Two

Well, we did it! We threw a quick Halfway to Christmas celebration for two. Keyword: quick. Want to know how quick? We literally decorated one of our mini trees on the day of. Boy! It's funny what you can do when you're in a time crunch. All it took were a few ornaments, an Art the Clown mask, and some food, and we were all set.

I admit that we didn't go too crazy with the food. Most of the salty dishes were ordered and included chicken strips, plantains (almost chipped a tooth on those), and cole slaw.

The hubs also made a meat pie. It was his first. Usually, we only do sweet pies, but this one came out pretty delicious. But we're thinking we might actually just do the ground beef and shredded cheese on top without the crust next time. 

I think a couple of nacho chips would do real nice too. It might end up tasting like the nacho platter from Denny's. Man, I wish they had one of those in Argentina!

Though we originally had a bigger menu planned for dessert, we decided to save the extra energy for real Halloween and just focus on one main sweet dish. 

To that end, we made a brownie cake, which we turned into a Ouija board using Elmer's glue. Just kidding. We used an icing pen to make the yes and no on top, the goodbye at the bottom, and the letters and numbers in between.

Squeezing that bottle was a real bitch, but it was worth it.

The planchette was actually a spooky holiday ornament we bought a while back and served as a nice touch for the finishing look.

Now, why did we do a Ouija board for Halfway to Christmas? Because we turn all of our holidays, even Valentine's Day and Easter, into spooky holidays. What can I say? We're obsessed with horror.

There was just enough icing in the pen to create a melted snowman on top of a store-bought chocolate chip cake.

NO, NO, NO! Instead of HO, HO, HO!

For the movies, we only had enough energy for Violent Night and Insidious, which we watched while taking advantage of a couple of salty and sweet snacks.

These limited edition Oreo BTS cookies were the perfect shade of purple for Halfway to Christmas. They looked even better on our coffin plate. Special flavored Oreos are rare in Argentina, so I'm surprised these made it into the local markets. The package claims they taste like hotteok, a South Korean street food, but let's be honest: they taste like pancakes with maple syrup. Okay?

I'm the one wearing the green beanie hat

Suffice it to say, we pulled off Halfway to Christmas despite being emotionally drained. Now we're looking forward to October, when we'll get to celebrate the real Halloween. We're not sure exactly what we'll do, but we're going to do our best to get out of this funk we've been in so we can enjoy the spooky holiday with some more energy.

Until next time...

Halfway to Halloween, Halfway to Thanksgiving, and Fully Exhausted

For the last couple of years, the hubs and I have done our best to celebrate what we call the Halfway Holidays with a spooky theme to all of them.

In May, we celebrate Halfway to Halloween.

In June, we celebrate Halfway to Thanksgiving.

In July, we celebrate Halfway to Christmas.

At least, that's the idea.

Now, you might have noticed that I haven't really been posting much this year. What I have written has mostly been rants about our frustration with renovating one of our properties and the repercussions of the constant acts of vandalism that have delayed the project's completion. As you might imagine, we haven't exactly been in a celebratory mood.

Hell! I celebrated my 49th birthday in July, and I completely forgot to decorate. To make matters worse, it turns out a few of the people I considered close friends forgot it was my birthday too and never even took the time to wish me a happy birthday. Luckily, I did receive a handful of messages from my more thoughtful (though physically distant) circle. Those honestly made me feel a lot better. But if it hadn't been for the hubs making one of his delicious cakes, I might have forgotten that I even had a birthday.

The hubs cooked my favorite: homemade Southwestern Eggrolls

Besides the cake, he also made me my other favorite: Key Lime Pie

Despite how down we felt, we still pushed ourselves this year to celebrate Halfway to Halloween and Halfway to Thanksgiving. Why do we keep doing it even when we don't feel like it?

Well, just like the regular holidays during the "-ber" months, we've accepted that the Halfway Holidays don't always have to be Instagram-perfect. Sometimes we're excited. Other times we're so mentally and emotionally exhausted that we almost feel like skipping them altogether. But you know something? Even when they're not spectacular, we still make them count as long as we have each other.

For Halfway to Halloween, the hubs made a version of chili with rice and biscuits and it was delicious and warmed me up as the weather here is colder in May.

We also carved this handsome fellow!

We got crafty this Halfway to Halloween and used empty soda bottles and black trash bags to create a body bag for our decoration. It came out pretty cool albeit a little spooky.

Peanut Butter Oatmeal cookies anyone?

Mini-corn dogs, fries and garlic bread to snack on during our horror marathon

We thought the chili might not be enough, so we gave these McD's burgers a makeover

Here were some more snacks

Dirt Pudding with a monster eye and tentacles

Leatherface Pie

Using Mint Oreos, a decorating pen and edible eyes, we created Franken-Oreos

Bat Biscuits - We had some dough leftover

Sometimes, simply putting up a couple of decorations, baking a dessert, or ordering something instead of cooking is enough to make those days feel different from the rest, even if we're the only two expats abroad celebrating.

For Halfway to Thanksgiving, I picked up some KFC strips and then we made some side dishes to accompany the meal.

KFC chicken strips, popcorn chicken, mashed potato casserole, and stuffing with edible eyes

We also bought a shit ton of KFC sauces!

The hubs made a delicious mashed potato casserole with cheese and corn

To keep with the horror theme, the hubs made a pie with a navel in the middle

Our Halfway to Thanksgiving mini-tree

Although we didn't celebrate Christmas in July, we may still do it in August. It might not look very Christmas-y when we finally get around to it, but that's okay because not every freaking holiday, real or symbolic, has to become an epic memory.

Sometimes money will be scarce. Sometimes we'll both be tired. Sometimes the only thing we'll want to do is watch a scary movie marathon. But when we get older and look back on these great—and maybe not-so-exciting—moments, I doubt we'll remember whether the decorations were perfect or whether we cooked an elaborate meal. We'll remember who was sitting across from us or next to us, enjoying a piece of pie or watching Jeepers Creepers for the hundredth time.

That's really the most important reason we do this.

Renovations, Broken Dreams, and a Whole Lot of Frustration (Part 2): Five Break-Ins Later

If you haven't read Part 1 of this post, I recommend doing that first before continuing. You can read it by clicking here.

Previously, I talked about how we were renovating one of our properties and converting it into two separate units: a house and an apartment. The idea was to rent both of them out and generate income from a single property.

Well... we've hit some serious snags along the way.

Since January, vandals have repeatedly targeted the property, breaking in multiple times. I briefly mentioned this in a post I wrote back in May, which you can read here.

It started with something relatively minor. A section of the front gate had been ripped out of the ground. The photo below was taken just a few days after we cleaned up the mess they made and repaired the area. 

For whatever naïve reason, none of us believed they'd actually try to break into the house since it was heavily fortified with locks and chains.

We were wrong.

Over the last seven months, vandals have broken into the property five times.

Nothing we tried kept them away. We installed motion-activated exterior lights, replaced the chains with heavier ones, and reinforced the metal gate, but none of it made a difference.

They smashed through the front door every single time. With each break-in, the damage to both the door and its frame became progressively worse, requiring increasingly expensive repairs.

But the front door wasn't the worst of it.

For whatever destructive reason, the vandals destroyed bathroom sinks, bidets, and toilets, too. Replacing them was expensive enough the first time. 

Having them come back four more times to destroy the exact same fixtures and then replacing everything over and over again has been financially draining, frustrating, and incredibly disheartening.

But there is a silver lining.

It turns out we weren't the only ones being targeted. Several neighbors suspected the vandals lived directly across the street from our property. According to some of the people we spoke with, they were poor AF and had more kids than they could take care of.

Personally, I hate it when people use poverty as an excuse to steal, vandalize, and be assholes. I've never been rich. Neither have my parents nor my husband. Yet none of us has ever felt the need to break in and destroy someone else's property.

It's simply primitive and animalistic.

Unfortunately, the cops are pretty useless in Argentina, especially in Córdoba City. But I probably sound like a broken record since I'm sure I've written about that in plenty of other posts over the years.

This time, however, the vandals made one serious mistake.

At least one of them did.

It turns out another property they had broken into was equipped with HD security cameras, which captured crystal-clear footage of their faces, especially the ringleader's. That footage allowed the police to identify him and eventually arrest him.

From what the authorities have told us, he's looking at several years in prison.

Honestly, I find that pleasantly surprising, given how weak the Argentine legal system often is. But as far as I'm concerned, this asshole and the family that now has to make do without him got exactly what they deserved. I won't shed a goddamn tear for him or anyone else affected by his choices.

So, is the threat over? Not in Córdoba City. When one asshole falls, another one rises. I'm pretty sure I've said that before, and I have no doubt I'll say it again.

For now, all we can do is finish preparing the property and hopefully get some tenants moved in. In fact, we're hoping to have it rented within the next couple of weeks.

Only time will tell if things finally go our way.

Renovations, Broken Dreams, and a Whole Lot of Frustration (Part 1)

I haven't been posting much lately, and there's a reason for that. A couple of things have happened over the past few months that have really taken a toll on my emotional well-being. One of them revolves around a renovation project we've been doing on one of our vacant properties, which I'll call House Alpha.

After the previous tenants moved out last November, my folks and I spent several weeks discussing what to do with the house. My idea was simple. Sell it and use the money to buy another property as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, my parents originally paid around $80,000 USD for the house back in 2007. In today's Argentine real estate market, we'd probably only get about $40,000 USD for it if we're lucky.

I also had a personal reason for wanting to sell. The fact that it never happened is one of the biggest reasons I've been feeling so angry and depressed.

You see, all of the properties are in my parents' names. Adding my name to the title would be expensive as hell in Argentina. In fact, it would cost so much that we'd practically have to sell one property just to add me to the deed of another. Since we own several properties, that simply wasn't realistic.

However, if we had sold House Alpha, we could have purchased another property and put both my husband's name and mine on the title.

Officially becoming homeowners would have given us a lot more leverage when it came to adopting a child, something I've wanted for many, many years.

Earlier this year, my mom and I had a long conversation about why becoming homeowners meant so much to me. She was genuinely excited about the idea of me becoming a father and her becoming a grandmother someday.

But, as has often been the case with major decisions involving my parents, the sale never happened.

What hurt the most wasn't even the decision itself. It was the fact that they made it without talking to me first. To say I was beyond pissed would be an understatement.

Did I hate them a little?

TRY A LOT!

I honestly don't know if I'll ever completely forgive either of them for this. However, at the end of the day, my relationship with my parents has been more business than family for the last twenty-five years. It wasn't always that way, but it gradually became our reality a few years before they left the United States to retire in Córdoba, Argentina.

Looking back, I know I shouldn't have counted on them to help make our dream of expanding our family a reality.

So, after accepting yet another heartbreaking disappointment since moving to Argentina, I waited to see what they planned to do with the property.

Well, guess what? Instead of selling it, they decided to renovate it.

The house is fairly large for a family of four. Definitely nowhere near Kardashian-sized, but spacious enough. Their plan was to divide it into two separate units. A one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment on one side and a smaller two-bedroom, one-bathroom home on the other.

A lot of money has gone into this renovation.

The company they hired to repair years of humidity and water damage—and to divide the house into two units—would only accept payment in U.S. dollars.

That was an immediate red flag for me.

Most Argentine contractors don't normally operate exclusively in dollars, but I'm pretty sure my father opened his big mouth and mentioned that we were from the United States. Unfortunately, some people hear "American" and immediately assume, "Oh... they must be rich."

I've been checking on the property as the renovations have progressed over the last couple of months, and let me tell you... it's been painfully slow and incredibly expensive.

If I'm being completely honest, the quality of the work doesn't come close to matching the amount of money we've paid the company and its workers.

Removing plants that had begun growing on the roof was a top priority because they were causing cracks, allowing water and moisture to seep inside. 

This, in effect, raised the humidity levels in the house, which resulted in damage to the walls and mold build-up. 

The workers installed several layers of what appear to be metal panels designed to provide additional protection against moisture. You can see them in the first photo I added to this post. I'm not sure if it's going to work, but I guess we'll see as time goes by.

As of July 2026, they've finished most of the work on the main house, but they still have to build an entirely new roof over the apartment. The reason for this is fairly simple. We enclosed what used to be the backyard to create additional living space for the new unit.

It's a motherfucking work in progress, but you get the idea.

We also had to trim back several large tree branches. Part of that was because the municipality insisted on it, but it was also the smart thing to do. The branches had become so large that a strong storm could easily have snapped them, sending them crashing into the house and causing serious damage.

All things considered, it looked like my parents were finally going to get what they wanted.

Then everything went sideways.

Vandalism.

And that's where Part 2 of this ongoing frustration begins.