The Sea is a Salty One

Today was definitely a wash. Medical Tests \ inconclusive Customs Shenanigans - inconclusive. I think we just got a different version of the gringo shuffle. Our lawyer asked for a buttload of money. The customs folks and warehouse folks laughed at the huge amount we paid the customs clearance place for "storage". Upshot is that we have to file a new shief of paperwork. Jim is exciting, thinking it might work. I'm ho\hum, thinking this was a gringo shuffle. A full year we've been trying to clear customs. But we stand a chance of getting everything left on a  salvage ticket. I am so over this. I am pleased I am speaking more Spanish lately, able to run into the pharmacia and demand the drops for ojos in the rosa bottela. Ask where the john is for my frequent pee stops. Ask about things I want to buy. We did a Price Smart run, so quickly because it was 5 pm, we hadn't have a proper meal and we were both utterly exhausted after getting up at 4 am to make this ...

As in and out. Tomorrow morning we bounce out to San Jose for that MRI and another attempt to get our stuff. We might have to do something expensive, illegal and common here. Bee Are Eye Bee EEEEE! We will see. It is not the exciting Great Box Swindle. We are bringing copious cash. Plus I have a Price Smart run to make and to go yell at Hospital Metropolitano about my refund again. We will see how much we will manage to squeeze into one long day. Today I finally completely cleaned the guesthouse. No more painting, no more improvements. Just a lot of scrubbing and rehanging pictures and things. Fell off Jim's step ladder of doom straight onto the sofa while hanging a painting. I still have no balance, but I'm not peeing myself any longer. Jim did something dangerous today. If only I could have gotten a photo. He was using the leaf blower right underneath a mango tree filled with hooting howler monkeys. The howlers do not like loud noises, dislike the noises enough to try and...

Lately one of the things I've been doing takes me back to my time in my old cult church. I've been baking. Not only have I been making everything else from scratch but I've been baking all of our bread from scratch too. It's so time consuming. I try to do it every Monday afternoon/evening. Make that week's bread, some roles or biscuits, have dough for rolls or biscuits waiting in the fridge, make some muffins or sweet bread and some sort of healthier granola bar or cookies make with nut flour and coconut sugar. This is where my years cooking at a restaurant in college help out. I get in, boom, boom, boom, crank it all out one after another and I'm done for the week. It's helping my asthma tremendously! Apparently I am having issues with food preservatives again. Today I had to do a second baking. Jim has started going back to the gym again, and would eat cardboard with enough butter on it. Plus he's decided that home baked is tastier. I cannot bl...

Ding! Sometimes I am so stupid~ I guess I got my mind all mixed up yesterday thinking about bullies, control and hyper critical-ness in folks. It's been spinning around in my head and today I tried to explain some of what I'd been thinking about at No Longer Quivering. The epiphany I had yesterday watching "Dance Moms" was not precisely that. I'd started writing yesterday's entry before doing 40 lengths in the pool, swam and was so dinged out by the exercise I could not call up what I'd been freaking about. It was this. Yesterday two of the girls had a dance using a picture frame. I was looking at their awkward prancing about with that picture frame and it dawned on me that truly talented people, or secure people, do not need ot use props. Talent or at least genuineness will win out in the end over a pile of props. If you cannot sing the note dead on, then pretending you have an awesome singing voice because you've practiced all those running up ...

It isn't often I get epiphanies watching trashy realty television shows, but boy did I get a big one this afternoon watching a rerun of "Dance Moms" Yeah, I know "Dance Moms" is pretty bottom of the reality show barrel, or at least I thought it was until I got to see the train wreck shows involving drunken midget strippers and something called "Love Island" that looks like it should be renamed "Let's Fuck" Trashy is relative I have learned. I don't watch reality television, but I always did like "Dance Moms" Enjoy watching the kids dance because it reminds me of my years as a dance kid. I danced as a kid and later as a teen. I always enjoyed it immensely and only gave it up at 14 when I started having problems with my left hip dislocating regularly. I took ballet, I took tap. We danced at Carnival Balls, at Mardi Gras events, at recitals. There were none of those competitions that loom so large on "Dance Moms" ...

Saturday was a trip down nostalgia lane. After a long Skype call with the two of youngest of my children I started doing laundry and once the folding commenced I discovered that the channel I watch the most on our Fire stick had "Veronica Mars" - new and old. I missed talking to my eldest this week, but she's on vacation. We'll talk later. Hope she's having a fabulous time as she's had a bumpy year. I worry about all three being stuck near D.C. with that lunatic as president. Back to "Veronica". Back when my baby was in middle school it premiered. This was a great show that both of us enjoyed. We'd watch it together and have these great discussions afterwards about a whole laundry list of things. We started watching during that hateful bumpy time that eventually morphed into us leaving our old church and fundamentalist ideas way behind. I'm sure if it had come out I was watching such a 'worldly' show, much less with a kid it would...

Tonight we went to a lecture with slides by one of the local surf operators who just climbed Everest. I wanted to go, I didn't want to go. But my fascination with Everest decided it. Started reading about mountaineering some years back when my best friend's son started doing the top 7 peaks. I am not sure if Nathan ever did Everest, but I know he climbed K2, Kilimanjaro, the one in Antarctica and Denali before hanging up his crampons. One of the books I loved the most about climbing also seemed to be one of the most honest unvarnished looks at the sport - "Into Thin Air" by Jon Krakauer . But I have loved his other books too, the one of the Mormon faith - "Under the Banner of Heaven" is an unflinching look into that faith and the history of violence surrounding it. Remember this last May when the line of climbers snaking up Everest became so disorganized and slipshod, like the escalator at Macy's during a big sale? This guy climbed in the middle o...

Not really detoxing, just sweating out a cold. Since coming to Costa Rica I seem to catch everything coming down the pike because the pike is so different. Taking immunio suppressants does  not help either. Took two days to figure out I had a cold and not just a batch of crappy allergies. I realized when the fever hit. So it's been much of two days laying around reading, crocheting and napping. The funny part was when I realized it was a cold and I went into hyper drive cooking and baking,  making home made foods for the next week. I've started cooking entirely from scratch as part of the big allergy turn off. Rushing about like a fool cooking and baking. I did manage to get it all done and the kitchen cleaned  before the worst of it hit. But the big victory is that today was the LAST of the remodeling and construction taking place at the house for hopefully one very long time.  Ceilings painted, water tank repaired, rain water tank installed, trees cut down, g...

Years and years ago I posted a doxxing myself post because I had heard that Curious at Free Jinger had been bragging she/he/it was about to dox me. But see here's the thing. If you live openly, like I do. There is no doxxing possible. Because of today posting about Trey Magnusson on No Longer Quivering and a few week's ago exposure of Larry Harriman it's time to update, just to take the winds out of the sails of these chunder thunder boys. I am 59 years old. Officially older than dirt.  Happily married to the same man for 33  years now. Retired and living in Costa Rica. Big house with a pool, hot tub, spa and guesthouse. Living a small hamlet that no one can agree if it part of one of which three villages. I am a mile and a quarter from the ocean and a national seashore part rife with turtles. I volunteer at a food closet, animal rescue and assorted churches. Trey has threatened my life several times, posting doxxing threats against me online. But...... here is the ...

Yesterday we were waiting for the local guys to come measure to put up the eave troughs. Tico houses do not come with gutters and this rainy season has been so intense we have had water in the house once and been very close a few times. When we had the pool installed a year ago the gently sloping backyard draining to the back left corner disappeared. The pool is high and takes up much of the backyard so it's gutters and French drains now. More money flowing out. The funny bit is Jim and I good naturedly arguing and betting on how late they'd be. Appointment time? 8 am. Actual arrival time with no word or phone call? 10:45. Not quite a new record, but close. Today they showed up only ten minutes late, but I suspect it's because they know they'll be getting the moolah at the end. It's kind of like when we used to play the football betting squares at work. Picking a number and going with it.  Damn, I am getting cynical. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yesterday I went bac...

Several days ago I got the most curious email. It was from a U.S. based aviation company and it read something like this: "Hello, We are looking for the above listed people to discuss their medical treatments" Signed with a name and company name, but no above listed people or names. I nearly put it in spam. I knew neither Jim or I had been in the States having medical flights. Was this some sort of new spin on the Nigerian scam? But.. my curiosity got the best of me and I replied, asking who they were looking for, cringing while signing it with my real name. Turns out they were looking for Jim and I. Me for my medivac flight during my stroke and Jim for his plane ride. The day Jim fell off the stepstool and broke his shoulder it was too stormy and windy for helicopter travel. An ambulance ride was out of the question due to the fact that he fell on Maudy Thursday and traffic between San Jose and Tamarindo was bumper to bumper. It was estimated it would have taken nine...

There is something I've been dealing with I haven't spoken of. Some of my childhood abuse. More memories I've apparently repressed have surfaced while talking with Cindy Kunsman, my friend. We've both been sharing the horrific mess our childhoods have been. Added in has been watching another friend dealing with a hateful ex, and I'm being pretty triggered, remembering things in my first brief marriage. Bad things. Very bad things. Thank you Jesus for another opportunity to forgive! Well, that's what I would have  said if I was still attending Possum Creek. Now, it's more a gentle sigh, remembering and part of me wanting to ask some of the adults in my family why that happened, or why the reaction was that, or if the person really knew what was going inside me. But I know there are just some things I can never share with those people. Lots of heavy, nasty, foul water under the bridge, so I'm choosing to just shrug and say what that girl I worked wit...

This morning was Jim's usual Tuesday morn. Two hours at the physical therapy office with me reading and shivering in the sub zero temps. I kid, but I have learned I have to have on real pants and a sweater when I walk in the door because they keep that clinic very well air conditioned and my Cajun blood now registers anything below 80 degrees as winter. Jim is better. Finally, thankfully, even if I'm not wild about his mutterings about soon riding his motorcycle. He's still does not have control and strength enough in his left arm to do it. It just shoots the morning when we go in for the pt since it isn't in Tama and we usually have a few stops for errands afterward. After lunch today I had planned on spending the afternoon in the guesthouse cleaning. It didn't go well because I ended up having to scrub paint splatters off every surface of the place, the new rug, the new surfboard coffee table, the refrigerator, you name it has teensy droplets of either white...

Was it shake down a Gringo for cash day? Juan-Two-Three our painter-handyman-jack of some trades finally reappeared this morning while I was stumbling around brewing coffee. We'd been calling for at least two weeks and have been without hot water since the day after he supposedly put a timer on the hot water tank. Tico time is a real deal. The good news is that he fixed the hot water tank timer. The bad news is that he fixed the hot water tank timer. Now it will not shut off at 8 pm like we had it programmed. I wouldn't have hot water at all if it wasn't for the dishes. He installed the new cabinet, sink and faucet, but I got no choice in where the sink went. He said he could  only put it in the middle. Had a sneaking feeling that was how it would work out. It's fine that way. See? The only problem is that the floor in the bath is not level. Had no idea. Juan says "No problemo! I'll just stuff it with cardboard!" I had to explain why that was un...

Or an unconventional 4th. The embassy here throws a huge party every year, but we stayed home. Too many problems still involving protests and closed roads over the value added taxes. Plus the traffic in San Jose is the worst I've ever seen. And I've driven in Munich, Mexico City and Rome. Craziest drivers I've ever seen in this country, everything from the dude on the unicycle a few nights ago going straight down the middle of the lone road in and out town  to the collectivo or pirata taxis darting in and out of traffic. Add in drunken tourists in golf carts and you have a mess. A few days ago I saw a golf cart filled with folks take a turn too fast and everyone dumped out like bowling pins in the road. Sometimes its kind of nice doing nothing. I took a nap, unusual for me. Jim is the champion napper. I will lay down and read, but not today I passed out. Wore something unusual, the closest thing to a racy garment I possessed in fundy town. An A line dress with spagh...

I have noticed here among the American population there tends to be two major types. The very old retirees - 70 plus shuffling along. Nuff said. Nothing wrong with them. I get along fine with the older timers. The very self-impressed - Tend to be in the age range 35-late 40s. The women tend to have plastic surgery plus dyed blond hair. They all look the same, hang out at yoga and the spa and drink on the beach with their husbands who are all surfers. Usually pretty wealthy, but not always. I get along with them, but tend to snicker up my sleeve at some of the behaviors I see. We're not really members of either group. Too young to be the older retirees. Too old, too tightwad, too practical and normal to be the second group. Very few of my friends here qualify. My friends are all the call of the weird people, like me. Why be normal? Tonight I dodged a bullet, skipping a premiere party by one VSI couple to celebrate their episode of some international find us a house show. Boo...

Sunday was brutal. I sang soprano and falsetto, but only because the other  singer didn't know the songs and had to intone in alto along with the leader. Just the three of us. Summer vacations have begun and there was literally no one at church. Even the pastor is off on a lengthy vacation, so we had an elder from a nearby church who droned on and on and on about how people didn't come to Christ because they are selfish bastards. I wanted to stand up and tell him that the problem is people cannot stand most fake and hateful Evangelical Christians. As long as people screaming how Christian they are act a fool towards everyone else then faith will continue to die. Some of the things he said made me snort with laughter at the utter cluelessness of his words. No idea of historical context, how the Bible was translated and rewritten through the years, the scandalous personage of King James and a million other things. I have ADHD, and am a twitcher, which means wh...

Earlier today I saw a list a friend had posted of best ways to invest in yourself. It was a lovely, yet so completely without a clue. The list presumes you're an upper middle class or better white American without a thing wrong with you. I looked at that list and just laughed, because it's pretty laughable for anyone with a chronic illness. I rewrote the list from the perspective of someone with chronic illness like Mast Cell. I'm not going to rewrite it to address the white privilege because I am no qualified.  Here it goes. Ways to Invest in Your Chronically Ill Self 1 – Watch television on your bad days if you feel like it. Don't let anyone shame you for your choices. 2 – Read on your bad days if you feel like it, or any time. Don't let anyone shame you for your choices. 3 – Try not to worry about money on your bad days. Chances are there's not much you can do in the moment anyway. Money will wait until another day. 4 – Know that every day you...