The Sea is a Salty One

  What I finally ended up doing with that tray and other items I picked up at the resale shop. I take my coffee and tea seriously. Not seen, my CR coffee pour over, my French press and the Keurig I took from my mother's house. I need coffee so badly right now. Bad crazy asthma. Bad crazy asthma anxiety. And so Miss O has continued spamming me after I told her in no uncertain terms that I could not drive her, lend her my car or arrange her transportation with friends. I told her those were my final words and to not bug me. Her emergency was not my responsibility to fix. She's still sending reams of words. I am not reading them, shunting them down the garbage chute with all the other nutcase ravings that get sent to me regularly. Since then I have heard from two different folks that she brags about being a "bulldog" who never accepts a no, or stops asking because she knows she can wear anyone down. Whelp, she has met the immovable object that I am, filled with a vast am...

  There may be no place like home, but my home here isn't far enough from my personal bete noire Miss Ogress. I sometimes call her the Big O, although there is about thirty pounds less of her now.  Tonight, I'm headed to bed, book in hand about 9 sometime at night on a day I got little done and we had a number of quake shakes in one day. I spent the day trying fruitlessly to find a company to ship 3 boxes of things from my mother's home. Also my aunt has lost her mind, and misplaced her power of attorney so I get to go out and overnight a copy to the law offices handling the closing on my mother's home. My messenger suddenly exploded on my computer, multiple messages coming in fast and furious with the rapidity you usually only get when a pile of faux romance scamming individuals show up. I sigh, roll my eyes, thinking it's the husband again. We're coordinating his arrival in a few days. Returning to Costa Rica requires a printed out airline ticket proving you a...

  It's a Sunday and I should be elsewhere, but church here is a huge problem as long as they refuse to ask clueless gringos not to bring their poodles to church. So much for legal disability accommodations and the love of Christ I guess. A few days ago I had to reach out to my aunt, the one that holds secondary power of attorney over my mother's life with me. I hated bugging her because her husband is in the early months of six months of aggressive chemotherapy. He has cancer in his pancreas and kidney. It's been horrible, so I try to keep my requests to her very minimal. She, like I, has a serious chronic illness there isn't much treatment or knowledge of. I remember how hard it has been going through the health crisises of my own husband. I have no wish to add to her burden. But that whole thing about having my signature notarized on the closing problem had to be overcome. Thankfully she was happy to sign for me. Then she gave me the real updates on my momma. The home...

  Not my momma's house!   Selling my momma's house and one of the people involved just told me I need to skip right on out and get something notarized then overvnighted back... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! (on the floor laughing so hard!) This is Costa Rica where getting a notarization of a document requires making an appointment at the US Embassy in about a month's time and a good 6 to 7 hour drive there plus an overnight stay and a drive back.......... Sort of sets the theme for my time back, hurry up and wait. I love Costa Rica, I really do since I'm usually moving as slowly as a sloth. My gall bladder is rumbling and I may be facing a removal soon. I feel like death warmed over this month but couldn't figure out the why until the familiar but rare pain started last night. At least I can get fast delivery of about a week afterwards I guess.... Just hoping I can avoid the surgery because I'm here alone with an expired drivers license I've been trying ...

It is late and I'm having a Biblical bout of mast cell insomnia. Just got back from the States a few days ago. Sleeping hours topsy turvy after sleeping a mere 2.5 hours before my flight Sunday. My pattern since back seems to be one night regular sleep, one night no sleep, and so on. It's the breaks. Add in a new late big wave of Sahara Dust and you get not just these types of spectacular sunsets, but no sleep, no breathing right. Afraid to get in the bed. No sleep till this breaks and I get used to being home again. House was very nearly clean when I got home, and with it just being me here for a few weeks it took one simple clean to keep it sparkling and keep it that way.  Stinky my kitty has been clinging tighter to me than wet underwear since I got back. I know it's not all about the six pounds of cat treats I muled back with a pile of truly silly and/or thrifted things. My stash minus a couple of fountain pumps and a huge pile of fabrics bought in Amish country a few w...