If It's Not One Thing It's Your Family

 

Using this photo for the back cover of my book. It's Copey, a typical evening with the clouds coming down over the mountain peaks, very otherworldly. To the extreme left you see a tiny view of the church that burned down about a month before we left. Large several hundred year old wooden church in this tiny town burned to the ground. Using a photo of the church burning down as the front cover. I had real fun with the back cover adding fake quotes from various Christian Evangelical provocateurs I've knocked heads with, including adding in a fake Kenneth Copeland "WHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoooooooo" More amusing than trying get other writers to do a book blurb about my book being amaze balls. Very few books are that amazing, I don't think mine is. But I like fun, I need fun because right now isn't very fun at all.

So what's my major malfunction, Kenneth? Just family. Church. Church had eight - count 'em - eight dogs equals mild anaphylaxis for me hooray. Preparing to fly the Devil's Lettuce after I clean up the mess the husband made it in the master bath. He left the tap running full blast in there and there was water everywhere, towels, floor, you name it. But he's not even the problem, not even the main problem.

I'm sitting here right after church huffing on my electronic bong aka a nebulizer when my least nutty aunt called. She's upset about one of the investment things I'm planning on doing. I wanted to move enough money out of Mom's stock portfolio to pay for a year of care. I am nervous about the stock market crashing. I have sold off my entire portfolio of stocks and moved the funds here recently to invest at the credit union. I told her we could talk about it in more detail when I arrive. I still think it's the way to go.

I could tell by what she's saying, and how she's saying it that she is listening to idiot neighbor's words about my husband. It's awkward and weird that she's decided the husband must be after Mom's money. It's total codswallop because we already have plenty, and we're living pretty sweet here in Costa Rica. Husband is extremely tight with a buck.

I absolutely hate that the neighbor is busily poisoning people against my own husband. One thing about my husband is that he verbally processes when dealing with stuff, he verbally processes hard. He's been worried that the step kids might show up and try to claim portions of the estate, and shared that with the neighbor. I've told him before he needs to be careful who he tells what. He isn't. This is the fruit of that.

This afternoon was a perfect example of his need to shut his mouth. The policia had a road block set up on the main road near CRIA school. We rolled up and I watched the cop pull a silly slight of hand and pocket a five mil note, about ten bucks US, from the guy ahead of us. The cops here are incredibly corrupt. When we rolled up to the police officer he said "Proceder" translation "Proceed" This is pretty typical, as an old gringo I get waved through traffic stops usually, newish car, oldish driver. But the husband was driving and running his mouth, didn't listen to what the cop was saying and asked me to give him his passport. The cop examined his passport and drivers licencia after my husband handed them over without being asked. We had to pull over on the shoulder, the officer showed it to his superior. All because the husband didn't know when to shut his mouth and do active listening.

I was on tenterhooks. You never, never and I mean NEVER give them your passport, particularly when you just watched the officer pocket a bribe from the guy before you. There are certain roads here if this one cop gets you alone and gets your passport he'll hold it ransom for some crazy infraction he's claiming you did and he'll be asking for a sum between ten bucks and the highest one I have heard sixteen hundred dollars cash. 

So what do you give him? A color photocopy of the first page and the current passport stamp, that's all. I have driven away from that one cop on the road between Tamarindo and Santa Cruz that pulls the passport hostage holding after telling him no, you cannot have my passport and no, I'm not paying a bribe.

Eventually he gave the husband back his passport and sent us on our way. My friend and I pretty much read the husband the riot act on speaking too much. Fer le la bouche, shut your mouth. I know that's how he processes but damn, it's created this crap with my least crazy aunt and my mother's old neighbors. I don't need this on top of everything else. 

The husband is having a time, one of his best friends from childhood is in hospice, dying of cancer and he's processing it hard. I keep trying to encourage him to visit his friend. It's throwing a monkey wrench into the trip.