Quote of the Day: Michael Palin

Once the travel bug bites, there is no known antidote, and I know that I shall be happily infected for the rest of my life.  – Michael Palin

Photo by: Laura Riggs | Sunset on Playa Guiones | Nosara, Costa Rica
Photo by: Laura Riggs | Sunset on Playa Guiones | Nosara, Costa Rica

 

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The bugs are getting to me!

Hola!  ¿Qué pasa?  The gardener and I have been working on my Spanish, aren’t you proud? I am also getting quite a tan – I finally look like I may know what the hell I am doing down here, even as I walk around aimlessly through the jungle. I have had several of the tourists ask me if I speak English (some days yes, other days I only speak Profanities).  Profanities is being spoken more often during these hot days after the rains when the assortment of bugs I don’t even have names for come creeping into the house.  I have taken to calling them all a-holes – the whole lot of them.  Oh and Fat Boy Iguana is not pulling his weight.  He just sits and suns himself in the yard rather than eating the bugs.  I think he decided to go on a diet.  I am not sure why he picked the rainy season to go his diet instead of the dry season……he is an a-hole too.

Since Fat Boy is on strike, I have had to layer up with Napalm so as to only get two or three mosquito bites when I leave the house.  I did have to giggle to myself as I was walking down the beach, scratching yet another mosquito bite on my ass.  I realized Lance and CPY are like the mosquitoes that bit my life in the butt and the more I scratch at it the longer it is just going to keep pestering me – I may have hit a new low for level of sanity, as I am comparing my life to a bug bite.

There was a nice older gentleman who asked me where the ATM was located in Playa Guiones last week as well.  I was able to direct him to el Banco.  Ironically, at the time he asked, I was searching for the damn farmer’s market for the past 45 minutes.  Eventually, I gave into my softer, feminine side and asked one of the locals for directions and he said, “No Se”

I gave up and went to the super for groceries instead.

While walking back from the market, I looked up and saw someone wearing bikini bottoms, but no top.  My first thought was, “When did Playa Guiones turn into a topless beach?”  My second thought was (as the person was much older and I could only see their back) – “Ew I don’t want to see saggy old woman boobs when she turns around.”  And then it dawned on me…..she was a HE!  The old man was wearing a speed-o!  GROSS, gross, groSS!  I will spare you all the picture of that one, which would also imply that I took a picture and I did NOT.

I seem to have the luck of always living next to the oddball neighbor.  The house next door has a squatter living there. Usually, he sneaks into the house at around 7pm, after the sun has gone down, and is out of the house before 6am when the sun comes up.  I found this out one morning as I was running around outside in my underwear this morning outside at 5:30am to get pictures of the howler monkeys!

It finally dawned on me why I seem to always run into the weirdest people (or rather they find me) – something that I previously believed to be karma I was burning off from a former life – has actually been a blessing in disguise.  I mean – what else would I have to blog about?!

Buenos Tardes!

Hay un raton en la casa!

Buenos from Costa Rica mi amigos!  Yes, I was just here in February – so what.  I hadn’t yet visited this beautiful country during the start of the rainy season, so I had to check out why the locals say it is their favorite time of year.  The weather is averaging a cool 96-degrees, feels like 126, because the humidity hovers around 97% (Although, I am not sure if they are always right.  I checked the current weather conditions one evening at 6:50pm, after the sun went down, and the site said it was currently partly sunny – sunny where?!  Maybe in California, but not in Costa Rica – but hey they both start with a “C” so close enough)

I know many of you have asked what I would do down here by myself for so long, but the time has been passing rather quickly.  The bats keep me busy with eating the cherries from the trees in the back yard.  They drop them on the porch as they fly by, and also drop their dung while they’re at it.  Each morning I sweep the porch up; otherwise it would be covered with ants by the afternoon. It is amazing how quickly things grow, die and decompose, then grow again in the jungle!

The second morning after I arrived, I received a welcoming gift on the stove from the newly resided Senor Mouse.  I described the issue with Sherrye, since it is her place, I will respect her rules as to how to go about dealing with pests.  She kindly told me to say a prayer for him and then kill the F**Ker, in so many words.  Thus, her property manager delivered to me, the next day, two sticky traps.

Senor Mouse is too smart for sticky traps.  He moved the one out from behind the stove, ate the peanut butter I had baited it with, without getting stuck. And then left his thank you card on the kitchen counter and stove this morning.  Bleh!  Just a metaphorical reminder that the world has been shitting on me lately…..I was cleaning up the excrement while waiting as the water warmed up for my morning While I had my head down, the bag of coffee tilted over to land on its side.  The noise literally caused me to jump 4 feet into the air and like a girl (I know, I AM a girl – so what.) – I thought Senor was running across the counter!

Then the next morning, I was greeted by a little scorpion on the stairs.  I thought that he was dead, so left him while I had my moment of sheer terror and scorpions in Costa Rica”.  I needed to know if this little a-hole stung me, would I make it out of here alive?  (The answer in case you all visit, is yes)

I was conversing with a grasshopper at dinner the other night about the situation.  He wanted to commit suicide by candlelight, rather than being eaten by Senor Mouseor escorpion.  I tried to convince him that his life really was worth living, he is here in paradise, alas he jumped into the fire and shot off like a little rocket into the ceiling fan, and was knocked onto the floor on the other side of the room.  Quite impressive – I may not be able to be trusted to be left alone for this long without human interaction………

I was comforted by a brief visit from a cat a nights ago, however.  As I was up the house, I heard a meow – which as of late, I wondered if it was just a figment of my imagination.  I peeked out of the iron bars gating the back door (because people down here like to steal shit!), and there was a skinny little gray cat.  Just letting me know that Missy says hello….I slept well all night.

Back from Costa Rica!

Buenos!

Finally getting an update to you all since returning from a wonderfully restorative trip to Costa Rica – all made possible by the very amazing, and beautiful soul, Senora Sherrye (muchas gracias mi amigo).  There is so much to be said for the simple beauty of living by the way of the tides to help heal the soul.  It also gave me time to figure out how this whole blog thing worked, so that I am able to keep the updates coming without loading too much crap in your inbox.  🙂

Of course, the journey from there was not without a moment that does make one wonder, are we all here for God’s amusement?  As I was sitting on the plane, contemplating whether I had made the right decision to go (since this time last year I was down there with “the Prince” – and we will just leave his name at that), the flight attendants began to pass out the Arrival Visa forms to fill out before departing the plane and going through the fun exercise known as Customs and Immigration.  As I began to fill out the form, my most very favorite fountain pen decided to spring a leak.  Now this is just upsetting – not only am I not going to be able to fill out my customs form, but I now am covered in black ink!  Only I have no idea, until I look down and the form itself is smeared with ink, my hands are covered in ink, do I then realize, ohhhhhh….I rubbed my face 5 seconds ago…how lovely.

I got to the bathroom on the plane with relatively few people staring at the oddities across the front of my face, in time to see that I now looked like a pygmy indian.  Fortunately, the ink washed off my face, but did not come off my hands for the next two days of swimming in the ocean, practicing yoga on the beach and throwing my grief into the Pacific.  Was I going to make a good impression in the Immigration line or what?  Apparently the Tico People find black ink sexy, because they let me and the one little bag I packed sail through Customs and out into the sunshine to meet Sherrye and Remi (her adorable little Yorki-Poo!) for our drive from Liberia to Nosara.

The ride along the dirt road with open winds was refreshing to smell the freedom from sadness, and the saltwater breeze as it crossed the hibiscus and cedro amargo trees.  Even though I hadn’t eaten much all morning, I had plenty of sand and bugs to munch on for the ride down, so we decided to head to her house, drop off my stuff and then get our yogi butts out to the beach for a walk, and a flow by sunset.  Remi loved this habit of ours everyday – I would run from the HOT sand to the water to cool off my burning feet and he would follow, and then lay his belly right on the beach and let the water cool him down!

I spent one afternoon hiking to a place I had gone last year, and cried….for awhile.  It was a relief to heave the rest of the saddness I had been holding onto into the ocean (because as the Mexicans say, the Pacific has no memory), and make space to only carry the small, good things home with me in my heart.  Unfortunately, I believe one the local Pelicans picked the crap out of the water, and dropped back into my suitcase and told me in so many words, to get that S**T out of his house (well, buddy, I don’t want it either!  Maybe we could take it to a pawn shop and get some toilet paper instead?!  How much do you think that stuff might be worth anyway?  I am thinking definitely only about a square of TP, enough to wipe my skinny white A** with).  Alas, I was stuck with carrying it all back home with me, and now have to find somewhere else to dispose of the mess.

As I sat on the Boca Nosara, however, I was lured out of my heaving sobs by the most intriguing man.  And for the longest time, I was perplexed – I couldn’t understand what on earth he was doing.  And then I began to laugh, and how inappropriate it was, and yet here he was standing in the ocean, with all of the world to see, proud as could be to have his hands where they shouldn’t.  It wasn’t until the next day, that I realized what he was actually doing…..

At least it gave me some respite from my own “drama” for awhile.