The Tico of All Training Trades
This has been quite the week starting with the massive rains we got from Hurricane Iota hitting north of us in Nicaragua.
Jim hired a personal trainer this week, and some gardeners. I'm fine with the gardeners, mostly. They did a bang up job. I find we usually need to have someone come tame the yard every six weeks or so during rainy season. The problem being most of the people we've hired in the past are now back in Nicaragua.
I was just nervous they were going to touch my American sweet potato patch. Every Nica or Tico I've hired in the past decides since they've never seen it before it must be weeds. This time they listened to me and stayed out of it. I didn't mule those potatoes back in my luggage last year for nothing.
The only drama with the gardeners is that the head guy insisted we plant this certain type of cactus on the property that he swore was the best smelling scent ever. The fragrance is heavenly, according to him. Guess what? Yes, I'm super allergic to that scent it turns out. I thought it smelled dreadful too, like ligustrum. Planted outside of the gate where I don't have to smell it. Really dreadful. I swear I wonder about folks sometimes.
The trainer has been working with Jim every single day and working my last nerve by dirtying every surface in the kitchen making up "smoothies" every single morning. He even went through an industrial sized jug of honey making them up. I question the wisdom of giving my plump husband an all fruit and honey concoction for breakfast every morning. Hello, diabetes!
I'm not entirely hating on smoothies. I do drink them sometimes, or even make them, but it's with mostly vegetables, some protein powder and no added sugary anything. I prefer not to ingest things that require metformin.
It took a mere two days for Jim to harm himself. He's really messed up his knee. I am still not sure how you mess up a knee doing yoga. I have done yoga off and on for years, and even though I have the special talent of throwing my back out by removing my swimsuit or sleeping in the bed I've never injured anything doing yoga. I think he's almost done with his personal trainer experience now.
I stayed away from the kitchen trashing / smoothie making / yoga myself. Jim is thrilled to death with the human interactions with the trainer and the gardener since his old pal Derwin has decamped into the arms of another woman. It's just too much peopling for me and NO ONE IS WEARING A FREAKING MASK! Which means I am far far away.
He met the trainer at church, this new church he's been attending while our church is closed because the pastor is taking a sabbatical until January. I am still not going. Jim's told me too many times now how most of the attendees crap on the Covid requirements by avoiding wearing masks and not socially distancing. Jim claims he is and I have to believe it. Hopefully it's enough to keep him from bringing Covid cooties back.
This week we found out that the usual suspects from our church, including Mr. Z, are all attending a third church. It's one I'm not fond of, the church is outside at least, but I've heard the pastor speak enough in the past to know it's the same ridiculous Fundigelical nonsense we used to get at our original church. Not enough money in this world to force me to sit through another sermon from that type of nonsense. Knowing that Z. and others who have tried to bully the pastor into doing things their way are going there is a huge red flag for me. So of course Jim is attending there this Sunday.
Heard of a few more couples we know from here who have gone back to the States have split up. One of the stories is pretty tragic, yet they carry some responsibility for what happened. The couple was always super looks conscience in the time I knew them. They returned to the good old U.S. of A just in time to go to the Sturgis bike rally. Both of them picked up Covid there, the mister had a rough ride of it, and was very slowly recovering. His first time back at the gym he somehow managed to snap the ligaments in his legs, and ending up with some pretty gnarly surgeries and scars. Apparently this was all too much for the wife, and they've split. I'm amazed and appalled by the sheer numbers of married couples I know splitting up. It's just a rough time for everyone, we're all jumpy I think.
Now this week comes Thanksgiving, and I'm already seeing plans emerging for turkey dinner at the yacht club and other gatherings being planned, including a big old shindig at Jim's new church. Not me, I'm staying home with my ham and yams.
The tourists who have returned, few and far between, are going about completely unmasked even if there are still mandatory masking mandates in place in the country. I have a feeling Covid about to get a whole lot worst here.
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