Frogs, Toads and the last day...

I have a new guest who seems to think the top corner of my front porch is THE place to hang out, and he's made himself as yellow as he possibly can in order to camoflage himself. It's rather sweet to have another friend living here with me. These are the kinds of invisible frogs that the guides show you under big leaves when you pay your $30 for an hour's tour to learn about lizards and to see spider webs and maybe a frog or two; forgive my cynicism.

Then, there was this poor little feller, flat out on the the little road that winds around our little community here. I wished I could help him, but he looked like a goner; I think he must participate - or have participated - in the great chorus that is the dark here. We have almost exactly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of dark everyday, which is a good thing for those of us who love to get up at the crack of dawn (5:15) and exercise, drink coffee and be productive and then hit the sack to read by 8:30. Life is so simple when it is warm and you don't even need hot water!

I think this may be the final version of The Beast for this visit; I will wait until July when I return and can putter with it. Paintings always look different after time and distance; actually, that's when I realize what a joke it is that I even TRY to paint, but I do seem to have a drive to do it, and it is pretty harmless, even if not quite as productive as quilting. It's certainly WAY less expensive!

Today I walked the opposite direction on the beach, crossing the brackish inlet where the water was up to my waist, rushing madly with contradictory currents pulling and tugging; then, I remembered that there are crocodiles in this inlet, so I really hauled ass! I walked along the beach on the other side where there were no houses, roads or paths. At one point, I noticed a man lounging up in the debris of logs and other things washed up on the high shore. I looked closer and realized he was naked, so I walked more quickly; he very politely waited for me to pass before he moseyed on down to the water for a little dip. I surmise there are more people living on the beach than I care to know about.

Finally, this is for all my Yoga friends, especially sister Lisa who is a whiz at it. I'm not sure what pose this would be considered, but it certainly looks like it would work your core and your quads, if not that high hamstring, about which I've been meaning to ask a neighbor here who has a little chiropractice right outside his house behind a straw-like screen. As I pass, I always smell the aromatic oils he must use on his patients. He's a surfer, his wife is a runner, so I figure they must know what they or doing. Either that or they are too young to have had any serious injuries!

The Beast

I am beginning a painting of my rickety but raucous Galloper, the car that has seen me up and down, in and out of ditches, roads, creeks AND the riteve. My friend Bill calls it "The Beast" and would like to drive it while I am back in Philadelphia; I am fearful because while he drives, I am responsible for any accidents or tickets or problems, and that makes me rethink leaving it with him.

I reworked this boat from a dreary day last summer during the rainy season, making the sand less pink, but still the boat is wrong, I know. I still kind of like it.

My friend Eva gave me a huge bottle of miel, as she had promised taking me to the spot where I could get it; I was so delighted when she pulled this large bottle of golden bliss from under her desk at the bank. She speaks no English, and my Spanish is limited, but we do seem to get along and read each other! In her honor and in honor of all the delicious, sweet joy of Costa Rica, I painted this one; I had already bought another bottle of honey, so I've put both in the painting, but hers is center stage. Hibiscus flowers are in the middle.

I ran out of canvasses right around the time I had to leave my car for two days with the mechanic who got it through the riteve by fixing it up so that it could pass. One morning I pulled out my water colors and tried to create a still life of sorts, but I was out of fruits or delicious things to paint, so I pulled three eggs out of the fridge, the frying pan and a bowl. There was a knife somewhere too, but it didn't seem to make it into this little sketch. I know the frying pan looks as though it's bleeding; I'll fix that...

Trying to prepare for my proposal for SVA's conference in the fall and hope to do something on my trip to Bangladesh but cannot seem to get it into 200 words; because the conference is around Denis Dutton's notion of the "Art Instinct," I listened to a 15 minute lecture of his on TedTalks. Who knew? Now I do, but I've got to work his notion into my reading of one banned Bangladesh author and two who write in English and don't even live in Bangladesh. Maybe there is an instinct to have an audience! I'm not happy with that and think more along the lines of the art of language so that I can look at texts and signage in Dhaka and wherever else my 10 days take me.

Car Passed Riteve and Beers

The Galloper beast was denied inspection yesterday but was returned to me this morning, overhauled and passing, for a mere $800. I cannot tell if this is a viable vehicle, but I do love driving the heap! I took this photo of my neighbor's alemandas and hope that the vines I have planted around my carport are the same; they have been there for almost a year and nary a flower has blossomed! Here's hoping for later in the summer!

The colibri have returned in full force, twittering and zipping around the feeder morning and night.

Because not much has happened while I've been waiting for the Galloper to come on home, I am going to address the local beer issue. Imperial is the local, practically national beer. The logo is excellent, and I've been drinking Imperial Silver, which the ex-pats around here call Tico Corona - light and lovely.

However, I ventured into the Nicaraguan beers and love Tona, which again is light and refreshing, not overly carbonated or hoppy.

BUT I stumbled across something called Rock Golden Monkey, and remembering Victory's Golden Monkey that made me fall asleep, I bought one to try. It tastes a little like cider, sweet, fruity and bubbly; it's peculiar to put it in the beer category, but it is a sugary treat. Today I drove into Jaco with my friends and bought one Tona and one GM; I already have plenty of Imperial Silver. For a "one and done" gal, I certainly am prepared!

Until 5:00, cheers!

Nicoya with Nani

I drove my Galloper over to Puntarenas yesterday, just making the 9:00 ferry to Naranjo from where we drove down to the southern rim of the peninsula on what I didn't realize was the worst, pitted, rocky, swervy, steep, dirt road EVER! We drove and drove, sister Nani patiently sitting shotgun and clinging to her seat as I inadvertently hurled her from side to side as I slammed through potholes, climbed and dropped over hills and valleys and veered right and left as I tried to steer away from any oncoming cars while trying to make time on our rushed tour of the peninsula. We were both starving and cranky, so as soon as we hit a paved road in Paquera, where the other ferry goes, we stopped to eat some lunch at a little soda/house that had several tables with table clothes that looked promising. The man of the house came out and talked to us about his fishing business, telling us he had fresh red snapper or shrimp rice. I took the "fresh" fish, and Nani opted for the shrimp rice. The fish was breaded and fried, tough and tasteless, but Nani's rice was yum, so I helped her out. She eats like a bird.

After lunch, we decided to drive as far as we could, thinking/hoping we could get up around Samara, but no such luck; we made it to Montezuma, again hitting the deep ruts, twisted turns, and pitted hills of the dirt road; however, once we arrived and scoped out all the dredlocked inhabitants, we were relieved to find Amor de Mer a few meters outside the main drag, and we got a room overlooking the sea. This was the first vista from the hotel.

I was a little grumpy and so went to lie in one of the many hammocks strung up among the trees and photographed this fellow who was mooching around in the rocks. After reading and sitting awhile, I found Nani, and we walked into town to check out the dinner options, passing on our way the tables of handmade jewelry and geegaws that hippies and surfers seem to sell to stay afloat.

This bus was plunked on the land in front of a restaurant and hotel and gives a little feel of the place. We bought a beer each and realized that it seemed to be the law of the land that one drank beer as one walked around; off came the lids, popped went my Nicaraguan latest favorite beer, and we wandered around, heading back toward the hotel. I knew when I tried to clamber over the rocks that I had drunk my beer way too fast. I slipped, crashed down into a rushing rivulet from the rushing tide, scratched up my knee but

found my way up to the big lawn of the hotel. It would have been better to have my picture here, but one of sister Nan with her open Corona speaks volumes. We settled into two uncomfortable chairs and watched this elegant heron for awhile, read, went upstairs and decided it was time for dinner. Probably I decided it was time for dinner because my druther is always before dark.

As we traipsed back down the dirt road to the town, we heard some dreadful sounds from the surrounding forests, and a family of Swedish blondes told us that it was the giant monkeys - we supposed the Howlers. The woman warned us not to get too close to them as they were likely to throw their shit at us if they got scared. We didn't have to worry as they never materialized, but I heard the howling again the next morning.

We rose at the crack of dawn, struggling to sleep through the torrential rains, cracking lightning and crashing thunder throughout the night. When we left in the morning, I snagged a quick shot of the lawn leading down to the water at the back of our hotel; this was our view from the room. It was a splendid little place, but I think it will be a long time until I return to Montezuma.

Rise n' Shine!

This morning was a walking morning at about 5:30, and the sun was just coming up, as I walked along the beach and then along the path in front of the beach houses. I ran into my friend Bob who was clearing out the shrub and old palm branches on the beach; we chatted about his orchids - one of which is the same as the one I brought back from my dad's tree in Florida. It bloomed for three years, but then just fizzled out; Bob showed me where I could find more of them and said he would snip a little segment for me so that I can try them down here where the climate is probably kinder and gentler for orchids. The walk up to the inlet was peaceful, the tide out so far that the water was still, reflecting the sunrise as though it were a mirror.

Nani and I just hung around all day after hanging out the laundry and discovering that the hot water heater had blown up in my laundry room. I mopped and tried to dry it all up, turned off the hot water and learned that fixing the damn thing would cost about $300. Ah, life in CR...

That Waterfall Again

We got lost as usual, but finally we walked through the cow pasture, through the creek and made it to the subdued falls; there has been little rainfall, so the the waterfall was more like a shower. We crawled up the rocks and swam in the first pool to cool off. For the first time ever,I made it back from the waterfall before dark, at which time we cracked a beer and began to plan the trip to the Nicoya for Monday.

Sister Nani does Costa Rica

Sipping first at the Britt Coffee Plantation, Nani joined the guides on stage for a tasting demonstration of their CR coffees; here she stirs and slurps, and she did it quite well, I might add.

We drove down from Belen to Bejuco, stopping at the Tarcoles bridge to check out the crocodiles, and it must have been nap time because they were all lying still at the top of the river, alert but motionless. They looked almost innocent.

Yesterday we drove down to Manuel Antonio and took a steep, sweaty hike through the park but saw no animals to speak of other than several agoutis. As we left, it began to rain, but we drove up and up and up to Ronny's, a little restaurant overlooking the sea and the mountains and the world, where we then drank the most magnificent sangrias. Right in the midst of our savoring the splendor of our hibiscus decorated drinks, we felt the whole place begin to shake. There was a small commotion among the few people in the open dining room, and after the tremors stopped, we realized that it had been an earthquake. I think it was Nani's first, but I had so enhanced my experience with my overly fruity and sweet sangria that I didn't really notice the earthquake - 5.9 on the richter scale.

This was the view once the sun worked its way through the clouds...