The Sea is a Salty One

  Raining or tears? Same thing? Oh man, I have yelled and cried already this morning and many times yesterday. Just got off the phone with several hotels in the San Jose area, all I've stayed at, after a fruitless week long discussion in email about the reservations. I made the mistake of calling, 17 times to the hotel of choice, hung up on, endlessly shunted around, until I finally got a guy who said they were booked solid. I went to their website and saw that was not exactly true. A truism in Costa Rica is if you are dis-conveniencing a Tico in a business situation they will suddenly tell you something false to get you off the phone. Experienced this many times. I blame the rise of the American Karens for this! I booked online, I could not get two rooms for my kids but I did score a room with enough beds for everyone. Crazy tourist season pricing too. If they are pissed off about the lack of space I will be staying in the hospital and leaving them the room. Yesterday I was doing ...

  It's hot! It's grapefruit season again with my tree in front of the window loaded down with the ripe fruit. Every afternoon is a loud raucous parrot party in the tree top. They love ripe citrus. In the past week things have finally shaken out. Jim picked surgery, the thing recommended by our doctors as his poison du jour instead of radiation and/or chemotherapy. I am glad. He does not decide things quickly. Surgery on Friday. Once he had a surgery date I swung into action letting various family members know. We start picking them up on Wednesday at the local airport before driving late Thursday into San Jose for the surgery.  Tomorrow I finalize hotel arrangements. I had to wait to hear how many days Jim will be in the hospital. I'm going to try and book again at Balmoral. Weird name, beautiful hotel. Closest to the hospital and on that lovely pedestrian mall where I can consume gallons of Starbucks. I understand why we're having visitors then. Family members are worr...

  Snow walking with Kiki. I miss him so much! Friends of mine complaining about this winter storm. It's not the dreaded Snowmageddon but its close from the looks of it. Makes me miss the best part of winter, that first really hard serious snow. It would kill all the mold and tamp down dust. I would go out for a long tramp outside in the snow at midnight because I could breathe all the way down to the bottom of my lungs. My kitty Kiki would join me, even if the snow was more than a foot deep. We'd trot along in a beautifully frozen world without a single soul stirring.

 Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean with normally hidden rocks emerging from the ocean. Sort of like now for me. I've popped a weird allergic reaction to a yeast infection treatment and it's physically making me miserable. I'm upset and jumpy over the future, worrying about all three of my kids, and, of course my husband. Feverish and suddenly asthmatic. Several days ago I went b!tch monkey rogue on Twitter towards much of the Anti KJ community after some fringe people going real life on me. Family members of mine with zero connection to my writing life had started to receive real life harassment. I should know by now that if I feel that upset I usually have something health wise on the way. I likely should shut up, even if I meant every single word to spill from my mouth and fingers. Burned the bridge. the mofoing house and the barn down at the same time. Today was hard because my husband is starting to freak out over what the doctor is saying about the surgery and treatment...

  Yes, I was there this morning! One of the things that's been messing with my emotions for the last six months, or so has been keeping my mouth shut when others behave in stupid manners. My filter is 100% broken now and I told more than a few folks off over the last few days.  I made the decision to just completely leave big parts of the internet behind and finish my damn book. One of the things that has taken so long with the book is that I changed the entire direction of the book and am rewriting huge sections now. I'm just simply no longer as angry with the folks in my old church. Does no good to expose who was boinking who and who smoking meth behind the chapel. Plus my editor Mr. Eagle Eye has been putting me through the wringer on large parts of it, suggesting splitting that chapter, elaborating more here, explaining there and it's been screwing with my internal cha-cha slide. Add in the discussions and worrying over the husband's cancer diagnosis and the temper ...