Awoke feeling much better -- the beds here are the best and so are the pillows. I'd recommend this place for that reason only!
Down to the breakfast buffet. Hmmmm, something wrapped in a tortilla. I'm pretty sure it was some vegetable but couldn't tell you what it was. Scrambled eggs full of shells. This trip is not turning out to be much fun at all.
Have all day to kill -- my appointment isn't until 5. I'm pretty sure they'll take me shortly thereafter -- they close at 6:45.
So here I am.... sitting and typing.... waiting for 5:00. That's only, what, 6 hours from now.... no place to go. Maybe I'll work on the new book for a while...
Sorry, there don't seem to be any giggles on this trip. Bummer.... TTFN
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Sometimes things just go wrong
Yesterday was the travel day -- up at 5:00 and out the door at 6:00 -- AM, that is. I really believe there should be some kind of worldwide edict that nothing should be up and around before the sun gets up. It's simply barbaric.
Drove to Orlando -- it's a two hour drive and luckily I missed traffic. Made one stop for coffee. coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee -- manna from heaven, even if it is just from 7-11.
Got to the airport in plenty of time. Parked in the hinterlands and walked to check in. Waited in line at the self checkin kiosk and got rejected (it figures). Slip of paper said "insufficient seating". Hmmm, that can't be right. I have a confimed seat from my reservations 3 weeks ago. I just lost 20 minutes.
Got into the "full service" line and 35 minutes later I'm being told that they gave my seat away. Uh oh, not happy. When I asked why did you give my seat away he said, well, we stop checking people in an hour before the flight leaves and there are only 15 minutes left. I pointed out that I have just spent the last 55 minutes waiting in lines to check in. He said not to worry, go to the gate with my makebelieve boarding pass and I should be fine.
30 minutes to get through security.
Down to the gate -- no gate agent. The crew were very nice though.
Finally, a gate agent. She said they had a middle seat. I said I'd really like my window seat (I hate closed in spaces and looking out the window at least feeds my illusion of space, but I didn't tell her that). She said my seat was gone. I asked her why they gave away a confirmed seat and showed her my paperwork and explained that I tried to do my boarding pass the night before but the website was having problems as confirmed by JetBlue customer service.
Another gate agent came up and they started talking in Spanish -- I really should learn the language.
I was given seat 5A - window, more leg room. "crisis averted".
Flight was fine, watched Rango and was really glad I didn't pay to see it in the theatre, but it did kill time. Seatmates snore.
Arrived San Jose airport. Arrived with at least 3 separate and distinct missionary groups in various t-shirts identifying their individual herds. Young, excited, chattering. Good thing I didn't have a big stick.
Went through immigration. Went through Customs. Slogged through taxi drivers looking for fares and waited for my driver. Waited.... waited.... waited... waited.... accosted by some small man with brochures four times... waited... spotted Carlos. He seemed surprised to see me. He said he was waiting for another patient and we could go soon. 30 minutes later Maria from Canada comes out. Not sure if they forgot to tell Carlos or what and really didn't care.
Hotel Christina -- steady 'ol Christina -- checked in, was givin a HUGE suite with 2 bedrooms, great big kitchen up in a corner. Great views it's just too bad it's right next to the laundry. I really hate the smell of bleach, especially when it's constant. Right above the kitchen. Ah well.
Went to dentist at 3. Was seen at 6:15. One of the really great things about the dentists down here is that they really take care of each patient. It's also one of the truly sucky things because appointment times are more like "guidelines" rather than actual "we'll see you at 3".
Back to hotel and into L'Olivo for dinner. Glad to see that eating by myself doesn't bother me, it's a skill I picked up years ago. If I were 6, I would have fallen asleep in my Alfredo. Boxed it up, back to bleachyroom.
Was able to talk to Doug via SKYPE. I think I want to send those people some cookies. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to not only hear him, but see him too. He even got Phoebe on camera (she's kind of photogenic, in a furry sort of way).
Cloudy, rainy, humid.
bed.....
Drove to Orlando -- it's a two hour drive and luckily I missed traffic. Made one stop for coffee. coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee -- manna from heaven, even if it is just from 7-11.
Got to the airport in plenty of time. Parked in the hinterlands and walked to check in. Waited in line at the self checkin kiosk and got rejected (it figures). Slip of paper said "insufficient seating". Hmmm, that can't be right. I have a confimed seat from my reservations 3 weeks ago. I just lost 20 minutes.
Got into the "full service" line and 35 minutes later I'm being told that they gave my seat away. Uh oh, not happy. When I asked why did you give my seat away he said, well, we stop checking people in an hour before the flight leaves and there are only 15 minutes left. I pointed out that I have just spent the last 55 minutes waiting in lines to check in. He said not to worry, go to the gate with my makebelieve boarding pass and I should be fine.
30 minutes to get through security.
Down to the gate -- no gate agent. The crew were very nice though.
Finally, a gate agent. She said they had a middle seat. I said I'd really like my window seat (I hate closed in spaces and looking out the window at least feeds my illusion of space, but I didn't tell her that). She said my seat was gone. I asked her why they gave away a confirmed seat and showed her my paperwork and explained that I tried to do my boarding pass the night before but the website was having problems as confirmed by JetBlue customer service.
Another gate agent came up and they started talking in Spanish -- I really should learn the language.
I was given seat 5A - window, more leg room. "crisis averted".
Flight was fine, watched Rango and was really glad I didn't pay to see it in the theatre, but it did kill time. Seatmates snore.
Arrived San Jose airport. Arrived with at least 3 separate and distinct missionary groups in various t-shirts identifying their individual herds. Young, excited, chattering. Good thing I didn't have a big stick.
Went through immigration. Went through Customs. Slogged through taxi drivers looking for fares and waited for my driver. Waited.... waited.... waited... waited.... accosted by some small man with brochures four times... waited... spotted Carlos. He seemed surprised to see me. He said he was waiting for another patient and we could go soon. 30 minutes later Maria from Canada comes out. Not sure if they forgot to tell Carlos or what and really didn't care.
Hotel Christina -- steady 'ol Christina -- checked in, was givin a HUGE suite with 2 bedrooms, great big kitchen up in a corner. Great views it's just too bad it's right next to the laundry. I really hate the smell of bleach, especially when it's constant. Right above the kitchen. Ah well.
Went to dentist at 3. Was seen at 6:15. One of the really great things about the dentists down here is that they really take care of each patient. It's also one of the truly sucky things because appointment times are more like "guidelines" rather than actual "we'll see you at 3".
Back to hotel and into L'Olivo for dinner. Glad to see that eating by myself doesn't bother me, it's a skill I picked up years ago. If I were 6, I would have fallen asleep in my Alfredo. Boxed it up, back to bleachyroom.
Was able to talk to Doug via SKYPE. I think I want to send those people some cookies. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to not only hear him, but see him too. He even got Phoebe on camera (she's kind of photogenic, in a furry sort of way).
Cloudy, rainy, humid.
bed.....
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Saturday, waiting to go home
It's early Saturday - like 6AM (I don't like seeing 6AM, it's barbaric) and I switched from the Rerun Channel to the next english one -- there was a movie on. Apparently at some point someone decided it would be a really great idea to make a move from that old TV show, SWAT. I can't wait for the Starsky & Hutch TV show - oh wait, they did too, didn't they. Yeah, that was a blockbuster too. Okay, let's wait for Baretta only because I liked the parrot, sort of.
Anyway as I watched this movie I started paddling around the ol' ponder pond. SWAT teams, every county has them, right? So - is there some SWAT-cave where these guys sit around lifting weights, target shooting and dripping testosterone instead of sweat? In the movie they just keep going from major crisis to major crisis. I don't know where you live but in my county, I can't remember the last time anything remotely big enough happened to warrant the SWAT team. Oh wait, there was that one time but I digress.
OR, are they "regular" cops who, when the call goes out (because there's no SWAT light like Batman has) they run in from their regular beats and change ala Superman into the SWAT team?
Speaking of Batman, did they ever need him during the day? Cause if they did the bat light in the sky just wouldn't show up, would it. How would he know? I mean, if Arthur weren't around the mansion dusting and the batphone rang -- they didn't have answering machines back then so did they just keep calling while the city was being attacked? Hmmm, maybe they should have had a SWAT team...
If they do sit around the SWAT-cave, are they called in for not so major things so they don't gather cobwebs or do they loan them out to counties that can't afford their own SWAT teams.
We may never know.........
Anyway as I watched this movie I started paddling around the ol' ponder pond. SWAT teams, every county has them, right? So - is there some SWAT-cave where these guys sit around lifting weights, target shooting and dripping testosterone instead of sweat? In the movie they just keep going from major crisis to major crisis. I don't know where you live but in my county, I can't remember the last time anything remotely big enough happened to warrant the SWAT team. Oh wait, there was that one time but I digress.
OR, are they "regular" cops who, when the call goes out (because there's no SWAT light like Batman has) they run in from their regular beats and change ala Superman into the SWAT team?
Speaking of Batman, did they ever need him during the day? Cause if they did the bat light in the sky just wouldn't show up, would it. How would he know? I mean, if Arthur weren't around the mansion dusting and the batphone rang -- they didn't have answering machines back then so did they just keep calling while the city was being attacked? Hmmm, maybe they should have had a SWAT team...
If they do sit around the SWAT-cave, are they called in for not so major things so they don't gather cobwebs or do they loan them out to counties that can't afford their own SWAT teams.
We may never know.........
Friday, November 12, 2010
Ponder Pond Again
Since we're on the third floor and since we can sit with the door wide open I stare at adjacent roofs.
They use corrugated metal roofing here. Sure, it might look a little cheesy (at least to me) but the more I ponder, the more sense it makes.
If an errant firework falls on the roof, it won't set it on fire -- just burn the feet of some bird unlucky enough to land on it.
You can change not only the color of your house but you can change the color of your roof to coordinate instead of having to coordinate the color of your house to the shingles.
You don't get wood rot which means there is little danger of falling through when you're putting up Christmas decorations.
Speaking of Christmas decorations, if you have a corrugated metal roof, it takes away the almost irrestible urge for people like me to crawl up on the roof with lights and a staple gun ala Christmas Vacation.
If a piece gets a rusty spot, just pull it up and slam in another one.
Yeah, corrugated roofing sounds pretty good, except....
When it rains for months on end I would imagine the almost never ending sound of rain pounding on the metal like some bizzare drum corp would proably send me right off the deep end.
They use corrugated metal roofing here. Sure, it might look a little cheesy (at least to me) but the more I ponder, the more sense it makes.
If an errant firework falls on the roof, it won't set it on fire -- just burn the feet of some bird unlucky enough to land on it.
You can change not only the color of your house but you can change the color of your roof to coordinate instead of having to coordinate the color of your house to the shingles.
You don't get wood rot which means there is little danger of falling through when you're putting up Christmas decorations.
Speaking of Christmas decorations, if you have a corrugated metal roof, it takes away the almost irrestible urge for people like me to crawl up on the roof with lights and a staple gun ala Christmas Vacation.
If a piece gets a rusty spot, just pull it up and slam in another one.
Yeah, corrugated roofing sounds pretty good, except....
When it rains for months on end I would imagine the almost never ending sound of rain pounding on the metal like some bizzare drum corp would proably send me right off the deep end.
Catch-22
Paddling around the Ponder Pond. Did you ever read the book or see the movie Catch -22? It randomly popped into my mind as I was staring at the clouds eating the mountaintops.
There was a part in the book/movie where one of the characters tells how he has succeeded in living forever. When asked to explain that little trick he said that he simply cultivates boredom. He does nothing for as long as possible, thus making time seem to stop and life seems endless.
Therefore, Doug and I are well on the way to living forever.
All we have to do is get through tonight, which, the way it's going, is going to last forever. There is nothing to do at this Apart/Hotel -- no nightclub, no bar, no nothing. The only things around are a few restaurants and one casino. It's going to be a long night because we're watching reruns on the english channel again and we've found that they run in a cycle each day --- which means that we potentially watch the same episode of any given show three times.
Can't wait for tomorrow morning.
There was a part in the book/movie where one of the characters tells how he has succeeded in living forever. When asked to explain that little trick he said that he simply cultivates boredom. He does nothing for as long as possible, thus making time seem to stop and life seems endless.
Therefore, Doug and I are well on the way to living forever.
All we have to do is get through tonight, which, the way it's going, is going to last forever. There is nothing to do at this Apart/Hotel -- no nightclub, no bar, no nothing. The only things around are a few restaurants and one casino. It's going to be a long night because we're watching reruns on the english channel again and we've found that they run in a cycle each day --- which means that we potentially watch the same episode of any given show three times.
Can't wait for tomorrow morning.
Friday afternoon
Well, we're done. Doug has 7 implants and 10 crowns. His mouth looks marvelous and he's very happy with the results. My implant has a long term temporary installed and the stitches have been removed - in a week or two my mouth will be totally healed.
Now all we want to do is go home. I think I'll go pack.
Now all we want to do is go home. I think I'll go pack.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Cafe Britt Tour
Our respective dental appointments weren't until this afternoon (yep, every single day we're in the dental office EVERY SINGLE DAY for hours on end) so we had some time to kill after the Denny's adventure.
Jacob, our driver, took us to Cafe Britt to tour the facility. I had images of trekking around acres and acres of coffee plants swatting at errant bugs and flapping like a maniac at bees. Boy O Boy was I wrong.
We went up the mountain roads (which have a shocking lack of guard rails), over rain swollen rivers and the landscape was that amazing shade of green that can only be achieved by the rainy season. We passed homes with coffee plants in their front yards and I visualized being able to pick and roast my own beans for the freshest coffee ever - oh, it would be Nirvana to be able to do that. I LOVE coffee --- I LOVE Britt coffee.
We pulled into the Britt plant, paid our fee and then wandered around the grounds until the tour started. Ornamental Gingers in Vibrant oranges, reds and yellow vied with orchids, birds of paradise, banana plants in bloom and a host of others -- a riot of primary colors and pale purples, pinks and yellows all set against so many different shades of green the artist in me just wanted to stay there forever.
I hate to call this a tour because it just sounds so darn dry. This was performance art. The guides played roles and passed us back and forth all the while actually educating us on coffee plants, growing conditions, soil requirements, bean processing from beginning to end - everything from the individuals who pick each bean by hand to the end product -- bagged beans being shipped.
They took us into an auditorium where we had a "coffee cupping" demonstration (Doug and I were up there participating - I'm an idiot and that's about all I'm going to say about it. Doug, however, was brilliant). When the cupping session was over we were presented with coffee bean picker hats, who knew, official hats for picking coffee beans.
We learned that Britt does not have huge plantations they buy the coffee beans from hundreds and hundreds of small, individual growers. These growers were given land and coffee plants by the government (for free) to encourage the coffee business, grow individual business and aid the populace in supporting itself. This occurred in the 1800's -- very forward thinking. The coffee industry is not a monopoly and this encourages a strong middle class.
I was floored and duly impressed.
We learned that coffee beans must be picked individually because the beans don't ripen at the same time -- they actually go back to the same plants many times over the three month harvest period. Coffee beans must be processed the same day they are picked or the "sweet water" in the bean will ferment and if that happens, the coffee will taste like vinegar.
The Cafe Britt people are pure genius -- they made the presentations and tour so amusing you wanted to pay attention -- thus, you learned and retained knowledge whether you realized it or not. Stuff like how to plant baby coffee plants (it would make terrible coffee in Florida) and how it takes three years for a coffee plant to produce beans but each plant can produce for 40 years - I love fun facts!
We have been buying Cafe Britt via the Internet for about three years now and after this presentation and learning how every single step is hand done, the care they take and the fact that literally hundreds and hundreds of families earn their livings from the coffee, I will continue to buy this coffee.
I know, I know, I sound like some cheesy commercial but the coffee ROCKS and it's good to know that it isn't going to the pockets of some big business concern.
Ohhhhh, they had Cocoa plants -- I want one or ten in my yard -- I can make own chocolate. I'm going to try and find some cocoa plants when we get back.
Here are a few photos:
This is where the bags of coffee are boxed, there is one woman who does this.
One of three guides, she was a hoot and a half, I can't pronounce her name so I'm not even going to try and spell it.
The coffee bean roaster - oh, if you love coffee this is heaven. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans wafts around and draws you to the building like hummingbirds to flowers.
Look! Look! an entire hopper of coffee beans - freshly roasted and in the cooling chamber. I could have just jumped in and happily rolled around like a puppy in tall grass.
This is the hopper where the coffee cools -- look how BIG.
Jacob, our driver, took us to Cafe Britt to tour the facility. I had images of trekking around acres and acres of coffee plants swatting at errant bugs and flapping like a maniac at bees. Boy O Boy was I wrong.
We went up the mountain roads (which have a shocking lack of guard rails), over rain swollen rivers and the landscape was that amazing shade of green that can only be achieved by the rainy season. We passed homes with coffee plants in their front yards and I visualized being able to pick and roast my own beans for the freshest coffee ever - oh, it would be Nirvana to be able to do that. I LOVE coffee --- I LOVE Britt coffee.
We pulled into the Britt plant, paid our fee and then wandered around the grounds until the tour started. Ornamental Gingers in Vibrant oranges, reds and yellow vied with orchids, birds of paradise, banana plants in bloom and a host of others -- a riot of primary colors and pale purples, pinks and yellows all set against so many different shades of green the artist in me just wanted to stay there forever.
I hate to call this a tour because it just sounds so darn dry. This was performance art. The guides played roles and passed us back and forth all the while actually educating us on coffee plants, growing conditions, soil requirements, bean processing from beginning to end - everything from the individuals who pick each bean by hand to the end product -- bagged beans being shipped.
They took us into an auditorium where we had a "coffee cupping" demonstration (Doug and I were up there participating - I'm an idiot and that's about all I'm going to say about it. Doug, however, was brilliant). When the cupping session was over we were presented with coffee bean picker hats, who knew, official hats for picking coffee beans.
We learned that Britt does not have huge plantations they buy the coffee beans from hundreds and hundreds of small, individual growers. These growers were given land and coffee plants by the government (for free) to encourage the coffee business, grow individual business and aid the populace in supporting itself. This occurred in the 1800's -- very forward thinking. The coffee industry is not a monopoly and this encourages a strong middle class.
I was floored and duly impressed.
We learned that coffee beans must be picked individually because the beans don't ripen at the same time -- they actually go back to the same plants many times over the three month harvest period. Coffee beans must be processed the same day they are picked or the "sweet water" in the bean will ferment and if that happens, the coffee will taste like vinegar.
The Cafe Britt people are pure genius -- they made the presentations and tour so amusing you wanted to pay attention -- thus, you learned and retained knowledge whether you realized it or not. Stuff like how to plant baby coffee plants (it would make terrible coffee in Florida) and how it takes three years for a coffee plant to produce beans but each plant can produce for 40 years - I love fun facts!
We have been buying Cafe Britt via the Internet for about three years now and after this presentation and learning how every single step is hand done, the care they take and the fact that literally hundreds and hundreds of families earn their livings from the coffee, I will continue to buy this coffee.
I know, I know, I sound like some cheesy commercial but the coffee ROCKS and it's good to know that it isn't going to the pockets of some big business concern.
Ohhhhh, they had Cocoa plants -- I want one or ten in my yard -- I can make own chocolate. I'm going to try and find some cocoa plants when we get back.
Here are a few photos:
This is where the bags of coffee are boxed, there is one woman who does this.
One of three guides, she was a hoot and a half, I can't pronounce her name so I'm not even going to try and spell it.
The coffee bean roaster - oh, if you love coffee this is heaven. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans wafts around and draws you to the building like hummingbirds to flowers.
Look! Look! an entire hopper of coffee beans - freshly roasted and in the cooling chamber. I could have just jumped in and happily rolled around like a puppy in tall grass.
This is the hopper where the coffee cools -- look how BIG.
Thursday morning - Denny's
Sweet sanity returns.
When we got up Doug said that he had seen a Denny's during one of our drives. He wanted Denny's -- a bit of home and some 'real' eggs. We found Jacob, one of our drivers who knows where it is -- off we went.
Doug's eyes lit up as we turned into the Best Western lot and headed into the attached Denny's. Coffee, "make your own Grand Slam" and we settled in to wait for the food.
It amazes us that even though the name is the same and the photos on the menu are the same -- the food is so different. Cultural differences I suppose. It was good though and not having to mangle the language and guess at menu items was a lovely surprise. Prices are much higher -- the grand slam came in at around $11.00, but it was an indulgence that was needed and appreciated.
Eggs, bacon (you just don't see it around here), sausage, pancakes, english muffins and hash browns. Neverending coffee.
When we got up Doug said that he had seen a Denny's during one of our drives. He wanted Denny's -- a bit of home and some 'real' eggs. We found Jacob, one of our drivers who knows where it is -- off we went.
Doug's eyes lit up as we turned into the Best Western lot and headed into the attached Denny's. Coffee, "make your own Grand Slam" and we settled in to wait for the food.
It amazes us that even though the name is the same and the photos on the menu are the same -- the food is so different. Cultural differences I suppose. It was good though and not having to mangle the language and guess at menu items was a lovely surprise. Prices are much higher -- the grand slam came in at around $11.00, but it was an indulgence that was needed and appreciated.
Eggs, bacon (you just don't see it around here), sausage, pancakes, english muffins and hash browns. Neverending coffee.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
7:45
Doug is standing there staring at me. Not saying anything, just staring... oh wait, now he's outside listening to the incessant drumming coming from somewhere in the city. We have no idea what it is or why it is. It's getting annoying.
We're back on the re-run channel on tv.
Oh, the laundry is done. Will post photos of our exciting foray into the Lavandia.
"relaxing" is over rated. I suck at it.
We're back on the re-run channel on tv.
Oh, the laundry is done. Will post photos of our exciting foray into the Lavandia.
"relaxing" is over rated. I suck at it.
Caged Tiger
I hate white walls and white floors and white hallways and white stairways --- I am so sick of all this white I could just scream. Oh, sure, at first it's all oooh, aaah, isn't this pretty and clean -- then it becomes personal torture. I need color and texture.
Yeah, here's my whiny baby evening. I'm bored out of my skull. I'm so bored my stomach is in knots and I just want to run screaming down the street. I don't want sit quietly and read -- I've been sitting quietly for days now. I don't want to sit quietly and watch tv.
Poor Doug -- stuck with a caged tiger. Wish him well because I am going stark staring mad.
I want to go home. I want to see my dog. I want my friends. I want to go to work.
Work -- my job -- I love it and I realize that it's the perfect job -- something new every day -- tons of personalities, myriads of problems and issues -- people to talk to and talk with. I'm part park manager, phone guy, internet guy, rental agent, bookkeeper, counselor, shoulder to cry on, problem solver, trash pickerupper, parking lot cleaner, window cleaner, toilet scrubber, floor washer, copier repair guy. It's always something new. I can't wait to get back to the lunacy -- it keeps me sane.
Okay, enough bitching. Thanks for listening.
Yeah, here's my whiny baby evening. I'm bored out of my skull. I'm so bored my stomach is in knots and I just want to run screaming down the street. I don't want sit quietly and read -- I've been sitting quietly for days now. I don't want to sit quietly and watch tv.
Poor Doug -- stuck with a caged tiger. Wish him well because I am going stark staring mad.
I want to go home. I want to see my dog. I want my friends. I want to go to work.
Work -- my job -- I love it and I realize that it's the perfect job -- something new every day -- tons of personalities, myriads of problems and issues -- people to talk to and talk with. I'm part park manager, phone guy, internet guy, rental agent, bookkeeper, counselor, shoulder to cry on, problem solver, trash pickerupper, parking lot cleaner, window cleaner, toilet scrubber, floor washer, copier repair guy. It's always something new. I can't wait to get back to the lunacy -- it keeps me sane.
Okay, enough bitching. Thanks for listening.
Wednesday Night
Back from the dentist. Let me say this right off the bat -- dentists scare me half to death. After being in the chair for three days with this group I am totally comfortable. TOTALLY COMFORTABLE. This is big, no, this is huge. I am healing beautifully and there is no pain at all. Today they replaced metal fillings - no pain, no discomfort and no swollen, numb face for hours on end. WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW.
When we got back we went to dinner at the Chinese restaurant up the street -- it too is one of the best restaurants in the city. The place was beautiful - white and red linens, beautiful red chair covers and, as usual, spotless. The food was amazing and portions massive.
Wantan soup w/ chicken instead of pork filling (the other option was shrimp) was not the small soup cup we're used to stateside - this bowl was huge. The stock was chicken based with ginger, scallions, cabbage and just a touch of cilantro. The wontons were full of chicken. It was delicious.
Doug ordered Chicken Fried rice and had to bring some home -- which never happens. I had their version of Mongolian Beef. The beef was tender and wok fried in Panko. The sauce was a bit different than I'm used to but still wonderful. Chinese food in a Central American country -- gotta love it.
When we got back we went to dinner at the Chinese restaurant up the street -- it too is one of the best restaurants in the city. The place was beautiful - white and red linens, beautiful red chair covers and, as usual, spotless. The food was amazing and portions massive.
Wantan soup w/ chicken instead of pork filling (the other option was shrimp) was not the small soup cup we're used to stateside - this bowl was huge. The stock was chicken based with ginger, scallions, cabbage and just a touch of cilantro. The wontons were full of chicken. It was delicious.
Doug ordered Chicken Fried rice and had to bring some home -- which never happens. I had their version of Mongolian Beef. The beef was tender and wok fried in Panko. The sauce was a bit different than I'm used to but still wonderful. Chinese food in a Central American country -- gotta love it.
Dogs and boredom
Another thought just hit me....
A lot of people say that when they come back, they want to come back as a pampered dog. I used to think that might be nice to. Until just now.
Seriously, just what the heck do dogs do all day long? sit, lay, scratch, nap, lick, nibble, lay, sit, scratch, bark at nothing, lick, nap. What do they think about all day long, hmmm,my pack mates are gone again and I'm alone here. hey, what's that noise? oh, just my stomach........ if i bark, will anyone come.... barkbarkbarkbark.............. nope, now my throat is sore.......... where's the water, crap it's old...........let's go to that porcelin well....... ah, that's better..............toys......throw the ball......wait, i have no thumbs............ crap,now what.........my tail.......am i still limber enough to catch it.......... ow, hit my head on the coffee table and I'm dizzy, but i caught it........... ewww, what's that smell? Oh wait, it's me............ the neighbors cat is at the window, boy, if i had thumbs i'd teach that thing a lesson or two.......... nap, let's just take a nap........on the bed.........on HER pillow............then i'll jump off and they'll never know.......
-- kind of like these medical trips.... a whole lot of nothing to do.
No wonder they chase their tails.....
I do not want to be a dog when I come back.
A lot of people say that when they come back, they want to come back as a pampered dog. I used to think that might be nice to. Until just now.
Seriously, just what the heck do dogs do all day long? sit, lay, scratch, nap, lick, nibble, lay, sit, scratch, bark at nothing, lick, nap. What do they think about all day long, hmmm,my pack mates are gone again and I'm alone here. hey, what's that noise? oh, just my stomach........ if i bark, will anyone come.... barkbarkbarkbark.............. nope, now my throat is sore.......... where's the water, crap it's old...........let's go to that porcelin well....... ah, that's better..............toys......throw the ball......wait, i have no thumbs............ crap,now what.........my tail.......am i still limber enough to catch it.......... ow, hit my head on the coffee table and I'm dizzy, but i caught it........... ewww, what's that smell? Oh wait, it's me............ the neighbors cat is at the window, boy, if i had thumbs i'd teach that thing a lesson or two.......... nap, let's just take a nap........on the bed.........on HER pillow............then i'll jump off and they'll never know.......
-- kind of like these medical trips.... a whole lot of nothing to do.
No wonder they chase their tails.....
I do not want to be a dog when I come back.
Doug just read my latest entry
Wednesday morning
It's Wednesday morning and boredom is setting in. boredboredboredbored. There are I think, 3 english channels and while it's nice to see some old episodes of Friends, The New Adventures of Old Christine and The Bing Bang Theory it does get tiresome when that's pretty much all you can watch.......d a y and n i g h t.
I've taken to watching Spanish infomercials and am insanely pleased when I can pick out a word I understand. Boredom does strange things to you.
We're in the central valley, surrounded by 6 or 8 volcanos -- I don't remember and there isn't anyone around I can ask --- well, I can ask until I'm blue in the face but the simple fact of the matter is they won't understand. Anyway, with nothing better to do, I watch the clouds as they settle in and creep down the mountainsides -- it's like watching an avalance in slow motion (or grass growing or paint drying - take your pick). I imagine that the clouds are just munching on those mountain tops, devouring trees and rocks leaving nothing -- then I ponder -- is this how the Grand Canyon came to be. I'm finding that my mind is a strange and frightening place left to its own devices. I know most of you won't find that surprising but it's starting to creep me out.
Yep, when I'm bored I tend to paddle around the old ponder pond -- that idiotic place in your head where the most inane, insipid and moronic things rattle around. Those stupid thoughts that normally you toss into the subconcious come crawling back from that abyss and say hello once again. Things like who taught bees to dance...
Why don't clouds just get too heavy and come crashing to the ground like rocks....
Who was the first person to eat a lobster and just how hungry did that sucker have to be.... yeah, I'm bored...... and we have three more hours to kill until we go back to the dentist.. the simple fact that I'm looking forward to THAT particular experience clearly shows the disentigration of my mental status......
I've taken to watching Spanish infomercials and am insanely pleased when I can pick out a word I understand. Boredom does strange things to you.
We're in the central valley, surrounded by 6 or 8 volcanos -- I don't remember and there isn't anyone around I can ask --- well, I can ask until I'm blue in the face but the simple fact of the matter is they won't understand. Anyway, with nothing better to do, I watch the clouds as they settle in and creep down the mountainsides -- it's like watching an avalance in slow motion (or grass growing or paint drying - take your pick). I imagine that the clouds are just munching on those mountain tops, devouring trees and rocks leaving nothing -- then I ponder -- is this how the Grand Canyon came to be. I'm finding that my mind is a strange and frightening place left to its own devices. I know most of you won't find that surprising but it's starting to creep me out.
Yep, when I'm bored I tend to paddle around the old ponder pond -- that idiotic place in your head where the most inane, insipid and moronic things rattle around. Those stupid thoughts that normally you toss into the subconcious come crawling back from that abyss and say hello once again. Things like who taught bees to dance...
Why don't clouds just get too heavy and come crashing to the ground like rocks....
Who was the first person to eat a lobster and just how hungry did that sucker have to be.... yeah, I'm bored...... and we have three more hours to kill until we go back to the dentist.. the simple fact that I'm looking forward to THAT particular experience clearly shows the disentigration of my mental status......
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tuesday, 11/9/10
Doug is doing very well and his final, finished, zircon crowns will be ready by Friday.
I, however, am a different story. They did have to remove the tooth. I thought it would be small -- I mean, seriously, the tooth on top is the size of what -- a couple of kernels of corn? It's a back molar for pity's sake. The hole in my head feels like the Grand Canyon - what they had to do is something I'm just not going to share because I don't know if any of you are trying to eat right now and I'd hate to ruin your appetite.
Suffice it to say there are tons of stitches and two separate bone grafts.
When they were done and I got out of the chair, my body was so "shocky" I began shaking and couldn't stop -- God bless Doug -- he wrapped me in his jacket then wrapped me in his arms. We got back to the Christina and he gave me my meds, tucked me into bed with a movie (Despicible Me) and took care of me all night. I got up at 4AM and have been up since.
We had to go back today, they wanted to take an impression for a long-term temporary for me, there is just so much going on between the grafts and stitches we're going to try again tomorrow.
We had the afternoon to kill and since we've done La Paz and the butterfly farm and the coffee plantations and the volcanos we opted for the large mall in Escazu. This mall is three levels with everything from Tiffany and the big designers to dona dona (the little donut shop). The floors are mirror-like, the glass is spotless, the stores are fully stocked and fully staffed. There are some Ticos window shopping and the food court is busy but it has a surreal feel to it. There are very few shoppers or lookers -- the staff in the stores are obviously bored. Weird, weird, weird. We can only assume that the mall was built for expats and tourists and must be funded by the government because there is no way these stores are supporting themselves.
There WAS one store that I just had to go into -- Costa Rican woods and pottery, art glass and painted feathers -- candles and coffee and candy -- perfume and ceremonial masks. Ah, local arts, why would I buy a pair of stunning heels in Nine West if I can get them at the outlet mall in Florida, but local work -- yeah, that's what I crave. Christmas shopping and thank you gifts were purchased and I found a new fragrance that I adore -- wild green orchids -- oh, joy -- I smell yummy.
Oh, my face hurts -- it's swollen, I'm tired. When we were here in June and Doug went through ALL that work, I had sympathy and I did all I could for him. Having had this done -- not only do I have empathy but I'll tell you what -- if I had to have six more of these (heck, if I had two more of these) to do -- he would be pulling down the street by my heels as my nails made scars in the cement sidewalks.
Let me say this though -- these doctors are artists -- when the needles go in, you don't feel it, they talk to you the entire time -- they go at the procedures from (their words) "a slow, calm place". They monitor your blood pressure and oxygen levels. I know for a fact, even through my holy terrors, that I am in good, competent and caring hands.
This part of the blog isn't nearly as amusing as the first and I'm sorry for that. Boredom battles with the discomfort and I'm pretty sure that tomorrow we'll be crawling the walls and counting the floor tiles.
I, however, am a different story. They did have to remove the tooth. I thought it would be small -- I mean, seriously, the tooth on top is the size of what -- a couple of kernels of corn? It's a back molar for pity's sake. The hole in my head feels like the Grand Canyon - what they had to do is something I'm just not going to share because I don't know if any of you are trying to eat right now and I'd hate to ruin your appetite.
Suffice it to say there are tons of stitches and two separate bone grafts.
When they were done and I got out of the chair, my body was so "shocky" I began shaking and couldn't stop -- God bless Doug -- he wrapped me in his jacket then wrapped me in his arms. We got back to the Christina and he gave me my meds, tucked me into bed with a movie (Despicible Me) and took care of me all night. I got up at 4AM and have been up since.
We had to go back today, they wanted to take an impression for a long-term temporary for me, there is just so much going on between the grafts and stitches we're going to try again tomorrow.
We had the afternoon to kill and since we've done La Paz and the butterfly farm and the coffee plantations and the volcanos we opted for the large mall in Escazu. This mall is three levels with everything from Tiffany and the big designers to dona dona (the little donut shop). The floors are mirror-like, the glass is spotless, the stores are fully stocked and fully staffed. There are some Ticos window shopping and the food court is busy but it has a surreal feel to it. There are very few shoppers or lookers -- the staff in the stores are obviously bored. Weird, weird, weird. We can only assume that the mall was built for expats and tourists and must be funded by the government because there is no way these stores are supporting themselves.
There WAS one store that I just had to go into -- Costa Rican woods and pottery, art glass and painted feathers -- candles and coffee and candy -- perfume and ceremonial masks. Ah, local arts, why would I buy a pair of stunning heels in Nine West if I can get them at the outlet mall in Florida, but local work -- yeah, that's what I crave. Christmas shopping and thank you gifts were purchased and I found a new fragrance that I adore -- wild green orchids -- oh, joy -- I smell yummy.
Oh, my face hurts -- it's swollen, I'm tired. When we were here in June and Doug went through ALL that work, I had sympathy and I did all I could for him. Having had this done -- not only do I have empathy but I'll tell you what -- if I had to have six more of these (heck, if I had two more of these) to do -- he would be pulling down the street by my heels as my nails made scars in the cement sidewalks.
Let me say this though -- these doctors are artists -- when the needles go in, you don't feel it, they talk to you the entire time -- they go at the procedures from (their words) "a slow, calm place". They monitor your blood pressure and oxygen levels. I know for a fact, even through my holy terrors, that I am in good, competent and caring hands.
This part of the blog isn't nearly as amusing as the first and I'm sorry for that. Boredom battles with the discomfort and I'm pretty sure that tomorrow we'll be crawling the walls and counting the floor tiles.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Food - what else?
Do you ever watch Anthony Bourdain? He's one of those guys that travels all over the globe eating weird things with an entourage the size of Rhode Island. I feel kind of like him -- without the interpreters, cameramen, guides and various and sundry others paving the way for him.
We are just outside the Capital city in a non-touristy area -- which means that almost no one speaks English. One of the good things is you really brush up on your Charades skills. It also let's you see how tolerant the people around you really are. The Costa Rican people are - and I've said it a thousand times - some of the most patient and friendly people I've ever met. They're also great Charades players.
We went to Plaza Mayor after the dentist -- needed the Farmacia and hoped to find a sweatshirt PLUS there's a mercado in there as well. Got the prescriptions filled, no sweatshirt so we headed into the mercado - where Doug's nose guided him directly into the bakery (he's having doughnuts for breakfast tomorrow). While he was deciding on his sugar rush, I found a case full of flaky little empanadas -- with descriptions I could only guess at with my limited Spanish (queso=cheese, pollo=chicken, carne=meat). I picked up a few in different shapes and nibbled on two -- one turned out to be a chicken with cheese and the other was potato with some lovely reddish/pink sauce. I think the other is ham & cheese (jamon y queso) -- maybe I'll find out later in the week or maybe Doug will just nosh on it with his soon to be installed shiny new teeth.
When we came out we hailed a cab -- which can cause difficulty because Costa Rica is a nation of streets without names. Yes, you read it right - the highways are numbered and some of the bigger roads have names - but mainly they run on landmarks ala "yes, you take this road for about 8 kilometers, then make a right when you see the Pizza Hut, follow that road until you see the large cork tree and make a left then go on until you see the Chinese Soda on the right - bear left at that fork and the hotel is across from the power company." Yuppers, this is not someplace you want to drive around on your own. We did finally make it back to the hotel and here I am - writing to you all, waiting until I have to go back to the dentist...
We are just outside the Capital city in a non-touristy area -- which means that almost no one speaks English. One of the good things is you really brush up on your Charades skills. It also let's you see how tolerant the people around you really are. The Costa Rican people are - and I've said it a thousand times - some of the most patient and friendly people I've ever met. They're also great Charades players.
We went to Plaza Mayor after the dentist -- needed the Farmacia and hoped to find a sweatshirt PLUS there's a mercado in there as well. Got the prescriptions filled, no sweatshirt so we headed into the mercado - where Doug's nose guided him directly into the bakery (he's having doughnuts for breakfast tomorrow). While he was deciding on his sugar rush, I found a case full of flaky little empanadas -- with descriptions I could only guess at with my limited Spanish (queso=cheese, pollo=chicken, carne=meat). I picked up a few in different shapes and nibbled on two -- one turned out to be a chicken with cheese and the other was potato with some lovely reddish/pink sauce. I think the other is ham & cheese (jamon y queso) -- maybe I'll find out later in the week or maybe Doug will just nosh on it with his soon to be installed shiny new teeth.
When we came out we hailed a cab -- which can cause difficulty because Costa Rica is a nation of streets without names. Yes, you read it right - the highways are numbered and some of the bigger roads have names - but mainly they run on landmarks ala "yes, you take this road for about 8 kilometers, then make a right when you see the Pizza Hut, follow that road until you see the large cork tree and make a left then go on until you see the Chinese Soda on the right - bear left at that fork and the hotel is across from the power company." Yuppers, this is not someplace you want to drive around on your own. We did finally make it back to the hotel and here I am - writing to you all, waiting until I have to go back to the dentist...
Monday and some bad news - for me
First - Doug is doing great - they removed all the temps. from his implants and his stuff is coming along fine and dandy --- yay!
Which, under the circumstances, is turning out to be a really good thing -- because my abcess issues are just glaringly ugly.
This stupid thing has morphed into something between the Blob and the Gulf Oil Spill. It's spread from that one spot above tooth #3 and created a river between my jawbone and sinus cavity -- with an exit fistula. I'm NOT going to explain exactly what this means because it falls clearly in the category of super gross.
The xray is kind of scary.
Soooooooooooo, this afternoon/evening they're going to go in, oh so carefully cut the tooth into pieces and get it out, then clean all the gunk out, then put in a bone graft, then we're either going to do a two stage or one stage (hope and pray for the one stage for me people) implant. Then he stitches it all up nice and neat.
Poor Doug -- he's going to be stuck with a sniveling idiot for the next few days. They've given me some super strong antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Oh Joy, Oh Bliss -- let's just break into a song, shall we.
This was NOT what I was thinking was going to happen in my "Scarlett O'Hara" mind --- you know -- "Oh, I can't think about this today, why, I'll just think it tomorrow, yes, that's what I'll do - I'll go back to Tara and think about it tomorrow. Tomorrow IS another day."
Yeah, we NEVER did see little ol' Ms. Scarlett wake up the next day and get whapped right in the face with a dose of reality - did we. Naw, we didn't and now I know why. Reality Bites.
Ah well, enough carping for now - it isn't going to do any good -- jimminy crickets -- the "G" key on my keyboard is sticky -- so if you see a g missing, it just means I wasn't paying attention and didn't hit the key hard enough.
Hmmm, nothing interesting today - we finally have some sun but it's still very cool -- I should have brought along a sweatshirt or something.
Met a very nice woman from Canada who has been here for about a month getting her entire mouth done -- apparently Canadian dentistry is just as expensive as dentistry in the U.S. She treated herself to an eye lift and didn't tell her husband about it. I think she feels a bit "naughty" but is very happy with all the changes she's making.
Have yet to see our bat-moth friend but perhaps this part of the hotel is out of his territory.
I guess this will be a good thing -- it'll be nice to be out of pain.
Will post again soon, hopefully something happier next time -- or at least mildly amusing.
TTFN
Which, under the circumstances, is turning out to be a really good thing -- because my abcess issues are just glaringly ugly.
This stupid thing has morphed into something between the Blob and the Gulf Oil Spill. It's spread from that one spot above tooth #3 and created a river between my jawbone and sinus cavity -- with an exit fistula. I'm NOT going to explain exactly what this means because it falls clearly in the category of super gross.
The xray is kind of scary.
Soooooooooooo, this afternoon/evening they're going to go in, oh so carefully cut the tooth into pieces and get it out, then clean all the gunk out, then put in a bone graft, then we're either going to do a two stage or one stage (hope and pray for the one stage for me people) implant. Then he stitches it all up nice and neat.
Poor Doug -- he's going to be stuck with a sniveling idiot for the next few days. They've given me some super strong antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Oh Joy, Oh Bliss -- let's just break into a song, shall we.
This was NOT what I was thinking was going to happen in my "Scarlett O'Hara" mind --- you know -- "Oh, I can't think about this today, why, I'll just think it tomorrow, yes, that's what I'll do - I'll go back to Tara and think about it tomorrow. Tomorrow IS another day."
Yeah, we NEVER did see little ol' Ms. Scarlett wake up the next day and get whapped right in the face with a dose of reality - did we. Naw, we didn't and now I know why. Reality Bites.
Ah well, enough carping for now - it isn't going to do any good -- jimminy crickets -- the "G" key on my keyboard is sticky -- so if you see a g missing, it just means I wasn't paying attention and didn't hit the key hard enough.
Hmmm, nothing interesting today - we finally have some sun but it's still very cool -- I should have brought along a sweatshirt or something.
Met a very nice woman from Canada who has been here for about a month getting her entire mouth done -- apparently Canadian dentistry is just as expensive as dentistry in the U.S. She treated herself to an eye lift and didn't tell her husband about it. I think she feels a bit "naughty" but is very happy with all the changes she's making.
Have yet to see our bat-moth friend but perhaps this part of the hotel is out of his territory.
I guess this will be a good thing -- it'll be nice to be out of pain.
Will post again soon, hopefully something happier next time -- or at least mildly amusing.
TTFN
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sunday, November 7 - San Jose, here we come
Well, we didn't need that 7AM wake up call. You know how it is, you're in a strange bed that evokes the "Princess and the Pea" story line. We got up around 6:30, showered, repacked, went to breakfast and checked out. Off to the parking garage and on to the airport.
Orlando airport is HUGE but very well run and I have to say -- the TSA screeners are some of the nicest I've ever met -- not in that almost-creepy Disney-esqe way, but just nice in that "we don't need to scare the pants off you to do our jobs" kind of way. We didn't have much time between screening and boarding but I did manage to find some million-dollar AA batteries for the camera in the airport.
Jet Blue?? Love it - adore it. More leg room, the flight attendants were not only civil, but friendly and nice. They have little tiny screens in each seat back - we were watchin DirecTV until we hit Cuban airspace then there were some movie or music channels you could go to. Free snacks (cookies, chips, crackers) and soft drinks. They also offered box packages and cocktails.
Doug and I aren't the best fliers -- Doug's Xanax hadn't really had a chance to kick in prior to takeoff but he did really well. Me? Well, at some point in every flight over two hours long my subconscious decides there is no more air on the plane -- it's just gone - poof and I get a little panicky; that coupled with the fact that flying throws my balance off (inner ear damage from a car accident) makes me walk into walls until I can get to a PT.
I did take some shots from the plane --
The photo on the left are the mountains coming into the Central Valle and the photo on the right is either part of the Florida Keys or Cuba -- it's kind of hard to tell.
We landed at San Jose International and I have to say once again -- the Costa Rican people are some of the nicest people on the planet. Immigration was a dream, customs was a snap and the airport is spotless -- with tiles so shiny you could put your make up on in them.
Carlos, our driver, was waiting for us once again and he whisked us right to La Christina. It felt like a weird homecoming -- maybe because we were here just a few months ago. Hugs from Carlos, greetings from our friends at the Christina and a new room in a different wing (naturally, I have photos!)
The apartment features all that wonderful wood and white tile, a tidy little kitchen and nice size bedroom with two closets. This time we have a television in the bedroom and in the living room - which will make a big difference when one of us is down due to dental work and tucked into bed. The bathroom is nice and big and the windows are all open wide, letting in the cool mountain breezes.Before we left we had heard about the mudslides in the area. Carlos tells us that some 24 people lost their lives and you can see evidence of smaller slides in the hillsides and mountainsides. Rainy season ends here at the end of the month and hopefully there won't be any more slides or loss of life.
We nested in our room and off we went to the Mas y Menes -- local supermarket. Yet another adventure in shopping. Christmas hits the stores here early too! Wreaths and trees and seasonal treats greeted us along with Christmas carols all in English. I guess it's the same the world over, isn't it. We picked up supplies and back to the room.
We wanted to go to the on-site restaurant for dinner (you remember from earlier posts -- the place that uses veal in it's meat sauce, but not calfs, "teen-aged" cows). Drat, they're closed on Sunday -- which means I don't get a "last meal" before the dentist starts his work tomorrow morning.
Oh, our bird friend is still here -- Mohawk Sparrow -- hopefully this photo will show you what we're talking about, if not -- well, we stuck here for a whole week so maybe we can get a better shot or ten....
Can you see it? He has a mohawk!
Well, I'm going to post this and go check my email and office computer and home phone and facebook -- technology, still can't decide if I love it or hate it!
Then, I'm going to have a nice glass of wine - don't aks me what it is -- I can't read the label.
Here we go again!!! Saturday, Nov. 6th 2010
Okay, we're going back to Costa Rica -- hopefully it will be the last time for a while. Don't get me wrong -- if you haven't read this entire blog or spoken to us, you might think we don't like CR. The exact opposite it true -- we love CR, at least what we've been able to see between visits to the dentist.
Doug is having his permanent crowns put on this week and I have an abcessed tooth that needs to be taken care of (failed root canal)(oooowwww, my face hurts) and some old fillings replaced.
We're flying out of Orlando this time. JetBlue has direct service from ORL to SJO, which means no stop at the dreaded Miami International Airport. We leave Sunday morning at a civilized 10:25 AM (no 4AM wakeup call).
Phoebe the Bouv is going to shack up with her boyfriend for the week. Ah, Bouv love -- mention the name Lucky and Phoebe is galloping her old self down the street.
We took Phoebe for her morning stroll where she delighted in the first real cool snap we've had in Florida and she "read all the pee mail" and stopped for pets from the neighbors. We packed up her kibble and bowls, treats and snacks while she looked on with doggy trepidation -- then we said -- "wanna go see Lucky". I tell you, that great hairy beast is smitten - she began wagging and barking so off we went. Here is a picture of the "happy couple"...
Phoebe is the huge, rug looking beast in the background -- that adorable little fluffball in front is Lucky.
We went back to the house, turned everything off, set the alarm system, packed the car and then............... nothing, Doug turned the key and all we heard was that annoying clickety click sound that signals a dead battery. O Happy Day. Doug went into that man-cave of a shed and came out with the battery charger - 10 minutes later we're off to Batteries Plus and a new car battery.
The ride to Orlando was uneventful and we found our hotel (La Quinta - the older one) and decided to go to dinner. Have you ever been to one of those dinner show things? No, we hadn't either. We explored the options and chose the Pirate Dinner Theatre. They advertised three levels - the first being in the "common room" for cocktail hour, the second in the "Governor's Suite with a visit from the Royal Princess" and then you could upgrade your meal further. We shot for the whole-kit-n-kaboodle.
6:00 PM and we're escorted down the red carpet (seriously, they had one) into the Governor's Suite -- I pulled out my trusty camera to share photos with you and wham -- my blasted batteries are about dead. I went to the gift shop and the nice kid said he'd look for some when we were taken into the dinner theatre itself and he would bring them to me. Nice kid. The appetizers were little chicken cordon bleu's, mini quiche, shrimp cocktail, cheese and crackers, crudite and ham slices. Nice fare -- for my foodie friends, let me just say that dinner theatre is more about the theatre and less about the dinner - so crank down your palette and just have fun. The princess came in and introduced herself, welcoming us to her father's palace (they really did a nice job -- crystal chandeliers, red and gold flocked wallpaper, huge chairs, etc.) She assured us that the "rumors of pirates in the area were overblown and all was well. As she turned to leave the little ones clamored around her and she was gracious enough to chat and pose with each and every little girl that clung to her skirts. I have to say, she was lovely too -- in that way only 20-somethings can be, just beautiful - she actually looks quite a bit like Jennifer Love Hewitt.
Out in the "common area" (set up as a waterfront) there was plenty of action between the guests and the actors then the commotion was set off -- Pirates invaded and we were all "captured" and brought into the Theatre proper. I wish I had batteries for the camera and I wish that the batteries that young man gave me weren't dead too, because the room was impressive -- a 300,000 gallon 'lagoon' with a pirate ship whose masts were 40' tall was the center -- sails and rigging, crows nest -- the whole thing just amazing. The room was sectioned into 6 separate "ships" for we prisoners, all color coded and managed by a pirate in corresponding colors.
They involved the patrons, they had singing and dancing, acrobats and gymnastics, cannon fire and pistols flaring, sword play and pirates swinging from the rigging all over the place. Nicely done, very nicely done. The food was less than stellar but I'll tell you what - we were determined to just have fun and we did. So what -- the food was just "eh", the focus was on the entertainment and staging and that was ALL wonderful. The children were excited and entranced, the people who were picked to help the pirates were all great sports (Doug was on stage! Stupid camera) and the players were great fun. 3 1/2 hours from start to finish. Would I do it again? Absolutely. It's goofy and can be a bit cheesy but fun. Do it once -- you KNOW you want to.
Back to the hotel and we're sacking out to get up at a civilized 7AM.
Doug is having his permanent crowns put on this week and I have an abcessed tooth that needs to be taken care of (failed root canal)(oooowwww, my face hurts) and some old fillings replaced.
We're flying out of Orlando this time. JetBlue has direct service from ORL to SJO, which means no stop at the dreaded Miami International Airport. We leave Sunday morning at a civilized 10:25 AM (no 4AM wakeup call).
Phoebe the Bouv is going to shack up with her boyfriend for the week. Ah, Bouv love -- mention the name Lucky and Phoebe is galloping her old self down the street.
We took Phoebe for her morning stroll where she delighted in the first real cool snap we've had in Florida and she "read all the pee mail" and stopped for pets from the neighbors. We packed up her kibble and bowls, treats and snacks while she looked on with doggy trepidation -- then we said -- "wanna go see Lucky". I tell you, that great hairy beast is smitten - she began wagging and barking so off we went. Here is a picture of the "happy couple"...
Phoebe is the huge, rug looking beast in the background -- that adorable little fluffball in front is Lucky.
We went back to the house, turned everything off, set the alarm system, packed the car and then............... nothing, Doug turned the key and all we heard was that annoying clickety click sound that signals a dead battery. O Happy Day. Doug went into that man-cave of a shed and came out with the battery charger - 10 minutes later we're off to Batteries Plus and a new car battery.
The ride to Orlando was uneventful and we found our hotel (La Quinta - the older one) and decided to go to dinner. Have you ever been to one of those dinner show things? No, we hadn't either. We explored the options and chose the Pirate Dinner Theatre. They advertised three levels - the first being in the "common room" for cocktail hour, the second in the "Governor's Suite with a visit from the Royal Princess" and then you could upgrade your meal further. We shot for the whole-kit-n-kaboodle.
6:00 PM and we're escorted down the red carpet (seriously, they had one) into the Governor's Suite -- I pulled out my trusty camera to share photos with you and wham -- my blasted batteries are about dead. I went to the gift shop and the nice kid said he'd look for some when we were taken into the dinner theatre itself and he would bring them to me. Nice kid. The appetizers were little chicken cordon bleu's, mini quiche, shrimp cocktail, cheese and crackers, crudite and ham slices. Nice fare -- for my foodie friends, let me just say that dinner theatre is more about the theatre and less about the dinner - so crank down your palette and just have fun. The princess came in and introduced herself, welcoming us to her father's palace (they really did a nice job -- crystal chandeliers, red and gold flocked wallpaper, huge chairs, etc.) She assured us that the "rumors of pirates in the area were overblown and all was well. As she turned to leave the little ones clamored around her and she was gracious enough to chat and pose with each and every little girl that clung to her skirts. I have to say, she was lovely too -- in that way only 20-somethings can be, just beautiful - she actually looks quite a bit like Jennifer Love Hewitt.
Out in the "common area" (set up as a waterfront) there was plenty of action between the guests and the actors then the commotion was set off -- Pirates invaded and we were all "captured" and brought into the Theatre proper. I wish I had batteries for the camera and I wish that the batteries that young man gave me weren't dead too, because the room was impressive -- a 300,000 gallon 'lagoon' with a pirate ship whose masts were 40' tall was the center -- sails and rigging, crows nest -- the whole thing just amazing. The room was sectioned into 6 separate "ships" for we prisoners, all color coded and managed by a pirate in corresponding colors.
They involved the patrons, they had singing and dancing, acrobats and gymnastics, cannon fire and pistols flaring, sword play and pirates swinging from the rigging all over the place. Nicely done, very nicely done. The food was less than stellar but I'll tell you what - we were determined to just have fun and we did. So what -- the food was just "eh", the focus was on the entertainment and staging and that was ALL wonderful. The children were excited and entranced, the people who were picked to help the pirates were all great sports (Doug was on stage! Stupid camera) and the players were great fun. 3 1/2 hours from start to finish. Would I do it again? Absolutely. It's goofy and can be a bit cheesy but fun. Do it once -- you KNOW you want to.
Back to the hotel and we're sacking out to get up at a civilized 7AM.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
A Final "Parting Gift" from Costa Rica
It's July 4th and I'm sick - still sick. When we got home I came down with what I thought was a bug or virus. I waited about 10 ten days to go see the doctor - because really, what can they do for a virus? Nothing, nada - rest, liquids, soup - the usual.
I finally called the doctor last Tuesday - they took me right in. I don't have a virus. I have a raging bacterial infection. A breathing treatment, two -- TWO SHOTS right in the ol' tushie with needles the size of baseball bats and a prescription (Zpack) later and I'm still sick.
I'm not going to describe how gross this is -- but I've gone through four boxes of tissues and am still using them.
I have this really stupid thing when I'm sick -- at some point I always say "I'm dying", or "I think I'm dying" -- Doug now just makes fun of me when I say it.
I'm dying, well maybe not actually dying, but I feel like crap. I'm tired - I can't get a full nights sleep because I keep waking up to clear out my lungs -- but I don't want to supress the cough because I have to get rid of this icky stuff.
Can ANYONE tell me where in the body the 'snot locker' lives? I don't know where the body generates this stuff -- but if we could locate it, maybe we could do a snotlockerectomy and make it go away.
I'm whiny, I need hugs and pets, I'm cranky and crabby.
This has been the longest month of my entire life.
Well, this should be the last entry until we start planning for the return trip in the fall - but who knows - if something else happens, I'll post - so "follow" me so you can be notified if there are new postings.
Hoping to feel human again soon....
I finally called the doctor last Tuesday - they took me right in. I don't have a virus. I have a raging bacterial infection. A breathing treatment, two -- TWO SHOTS right in the ol' tushie with needles the size of baseball bats and a prescription (Zpack) later and I'm still sick.
I'm not going to describe how gross this is -- but I've gone through four boxes of tissues and am still using them.
I have this really stupid thing when I'm sick -- at some point I always say "I'm dying", or "I think I'm dying" -- Doug now just makes fun of me when I say it.
I'm dying, well maybe not actually dying, but I feel like crap. I'm tired - I can't get a full nights sleep because I keep waking up to clear out my lungs -- but I don't want to supress the cough because I have to get rid of this icky stuff.
Can ANYONE tell me where in the body the 'snot locker' lives? I don't know where the body generates this stuff -- but if we could locate it, maybe we could do a snotlockerectomy and make it go away.
I'm whiny, I need hugs and pets, I'm cranky and crabby.
This has been the longest month of my entire life.
Well, this should be the last entry until we start planning for the return trip in the fall - but who knows - if something else happens, I'll post - so "follow" me so you can be notified if there are new postings.
Hoping to feel human again soon....
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday.
I slept until noon. After 14 days of running stairs -- like 20 flights per day and running up and down trails and up and down the stairs to and from the dentist's office, after bone jarring rides over bad roads being bounced around like a beebee in a boxcar. My body is sore and aches all over.
Ouch.
We took Phoebe to her favorite restaurant (she had a cheeseburger, thank you very much) and we're home.
My bathtub beckons -- I love baths - long, hot, steamy baths. I need to drive the car around to charge it up or whatever the heck it does, then I need to do some baking, then some more putzing. Then make dinner. Then I can take a bath and go to bed. All I want to do is sleep and unwind and destress.
Well, enough blogging for now - it's off to work so I can go back to work tomorrow (I can't wait to get back to the office!!)
Ouch.
We took Phoebe to her favorite restaurant (she had a cheeseburger, thank you very much) and we're home.
My bathtub beckons -- I love baths - long, hot, steamy baths. I need to drive the car around to charge it up or whatever the heck it does, then I need to do some baking, then some more putzing. Then make dinner. Then I can take a bath and go to bed. All I want to do is sleep and unwind and destress.
Well, enough blogging for now - it's off to work so I can go back to work tomorrow (I can't wait to get back to the office!!)
Photos from the Plane
THIS is what happens when you put a bored idiot on an airplane for 2 1/2 hours with a digital camera.... I'll spare you the rest -- but you get the idea....
Finally Home
As much as I hate - really, really HATE The Wizard of Oz, I DO wish I had a pair of sparkly red shoes everyone was fighting over, because then I could have taken Doug by the hand, clicked my heels three times and said "there's no place like home, there's no place like home" and POOF, we would have been there (crap, have I just violated some copyright law? Do I have to pay some kind of royalty now?).
Into the house -- we both pause and look around; tired and a tad shell shocked. I must say, I am so bloody glad I cleaned the house before we left. It's sparkly clean, nice and cool and we're home - homehomehomehomehome. We drop our bags and walk around - everything is just fine. Oh, wait - what's that box? A package from Diane?!?! We open it up and I wish she were here - what a sweetie! Boxes and Boxes of Keebler Onion Toasted crackers (they don't sell them here), a wonderful votive candle holder that looks like coral and a bunch of environmental and diving magazines. Girl, you ROCK! PHOEBE!!!!
Out the door we go and hand in hand we walk to Jan's house. As we ring the doorbell we hear the dogs barking. Jan calls "come on in" and there they are - Phoebe and Lucky. 88 pounds of lumbering, loving beast knocks into me -- Phoebe, our girl and 5 pounds of beige fluff snuggles under Phoebe and now we're petting both squirming masses of doggy love. There's something about the feeling of warm fur, warm, living, loving fur under your hand - something elemental and calming - NOW we're truly home. God bless her soul -- Jan made chicken soup for us. After chatting for a while we fill our arms with dog bowls and dog treats and doggie toys, we juggle leashes and soup and head back home.
I admit it -- we were hungry and when we opened that pot of soup the glorious scents of carrots and chicken, onion and herbs wafted into our sinus cavities -- salivary glands respond and we pulled out spoons and jumped on that soup like Monkeys on a tray of cupcakes. Oh joy, oh bliss - home made soup. What a lovely kindness. What a truly thoughtful gesture. Oh Jan - thank you so much!
Well, I need to go to the market -- hop into my little Mustang ragtop, turn the key and - nothing. Do you hear me? Abso-freakin'-lutely NOTHING. It's dead. Back into the house, Doug hands me his keys and goes to charge the battery on my car. I drive down to WinnDixie and walk into the store. Grab a cart and head into the produce section. I stop and stare, it's wonderful - all the fruits and vegetables - the deli counter beckons - the bakery calls. I spend far too much time and money but bring home comfort foods for Doug -- potato bread and doughnuts. Chocolate milk and lunch meat. Mustard Potato Salad and fresh lettuce.
Back home - pop open a bottle of wine, pour a monster glass (with ice - I know, you're shudding in horror at iced wine - but it IS Florida) and go across the street to see Pat - my second Mom - one of my sounding boards and one of my best friends in the whole wide world. Oh, Pat -- I've missed you so much. Sometimes you don't realize just how much you rely on someone, how often you see and speak to them and yes, how you often take their presence for granted until you can't reach them. I needed to see Pat.
After a lovely reunion I head back home and Doug looks p*a*l*e. His jaw hurts - he ate too much and chewed too much. It's about 8:30 and he's off to bed - our big, soft, comfy bed.
I start to putter. I'm exausted and my body aches but I'm puttering. The grandfather clock my dad gave my mom for their 25th Christmas has run down. That means getting it up and running - which entails pulling the weights then turning the hands in 15 minute increments and letting it chime until you get to the right time. It takes a while. More puttering. Finally I hit the bed around midnight.
Into the house -- we both pause and look around; tired and a tad shell shocked. I must say, I am so bloody glad I cleaned the house before we left. It's sparkly clean, nice and cool and we're home - homehomehomehomehome. We drop our bags and walk around - everything is just fine. Oh, wait - what's that box? A package from Diane?!?! We open it up and I wish she were here - what a sweetie! Boxes and Boxes of Keebler Onion Toasted crackers (they don't sell them here), a wonderful votive candle holder that looks like coral and a bunch of environmental and diving magazines. Girl, you ROCK! PHOEBE!!!!
Out the door we go and hand in hand we walk to Jan's house. As we ring the doorbell we hear the dogs barking. Jan calls "come on in" and there they are - Phoebe and Lucky. 88 pounds of lumbering, loving beast knocks into me -- Phoebe, our girl and 5 pounds of beige fluff snuggles under Phoebe and now we're petting both squirming masses of doggy love. There's something about the feeling of warm fur, warm, living, loving fur under your hand - something elemental and calming - NOW we're truly home. God bless her soul -- Jan made chicken soup for us. After chatting for a while we fill our arms with dog bowls and dog treats and doggie toys, we juggle leashes and soup and head back home.
I admit it -- we were hungry and when we opened that pot of soup the glorious scents of carrots and chicken, onion and herbs wafted into our sinus cavities -- salivary glands respond and we pulled out spoons and jumped on that soup like Monkeys on a tray of cupcakes. Oh joy, oh bliss - home made soup. What a lovely kindness. What a truly thoughtful gesture. Oh Jan - thank you so much!
Well, I need to go to the market -- hop into my little Mustang ragtop, turn the key and - nothing. Do you hear me? Abso-freakin'-lutely NOTHING. It's dead. Back into the house, Doug hands me his keys and goes to charge the battery on my car. I drive down to WinnDixie and walk into the store. Grab a cart and head into the produce section. I stop and stare, it's wonderful - all the fruits and vegetables - the deli counter beckons - the bakery calls. I spend far too much time and money but bring home comfort foods for Doug -- potato bread and doughnuts. Chocolate milk and lunch meat. Mustard Potato Salad and fresh lettuce.
Back home - pop open a bottle of wine, pour a monster glass (with ice - I know, you're shudding in horror at iced wine - but it IS Florida) and go across the street to see Pat - my second Mom - one of my sounding boards and one of my best friends in the whole wide world. Oh, Pat -- I've missed you so much. Sometimes you don't realize just how much you rely on someone, how often you see and speak to them and yes, how you often take their presence for granted until you can't reach them. I needed to see Pat.
After a lovely reunion I head back home and Doug looks p*a*l*e. His jaw hurts - he ate too much and chewed too much. It's about 8:30 and he's off to bed - our big, soft, comfy bed.
I start to putter. I'm exausted and my body aches but I'm puttering. The grandfather clock my dad gave my mom for their 25th Christmas has run down. That means getting it up and running - which entails pulling the weights then turning the hands in 15 minute increments and letting it chime until you get to the right time. It takes a while. More puttering. Finally I hit the bed around midnight.
Saturday Morning
I'm awake - not that nice and easy awake - the jolt awake, awake. There is no clock in the bedroom - what time is it? Did the wake up call not happen? I bolt out of bed and look at the clock in the kitchen. It's 3AM. Do I go back to bed or stay up... stay up, just don't bother. Make coffee -- Manna of the Gods, I love coffee -- did I mention that - I LOVE COFFEE.
Get dressed, straighten up the room one more time - pull down the used towels and put them in a little pile -- drink coffee, pack up the rest of my stuff. Go out into the hallway to the stairway and see what the weather is doing - oh no, nanananananana naaaa na naaaa na - BAT MOTH! Swoops past my head and into the night. Apparently he lives here. 4AM - no wake up call -- wake Doug up -- 4:03 - wake up call comes in. Bring Doug coffee. Phone rings - driver is here -- crap, it's not 4:30 yet - hold on, we're coming, just a few minutes. Finish gathering up the towels, wash the coffee pot out - leave a tip for the housekeepers and out into the hallway we go -- and there he is -- Bat Moth -- sitting (is that the right word? Do moths sit?) on the floor outside our door - he's either saying goodbye or is a fame whore - looking for more exposure on the blog -- there, ya little bugger - here's another 15 minutes of fame for ya.
The drive to the airport is pretty quiet and soon enough we're there -- in the doors and to the right - get in line to pay the $26.00 per person departure tax, down to the AA counter and in line for that, oh wait - first we have to get past the departure tax police so we don't sneak out without paying the tax. Check in, down the hallway and in line for the security checkpoint. Get through that and now a line for breakfast.
A movement catches my eye -- a woman is waving her arms - no wait - so is Doug. Jeez, ya can't swing a dead cat without hitting someone from Ohio, can ya -- Doug and this woman aren't just waving their arms, they're spelling out O*H*I*O ala the Village People's YMCA dance. Dignified, so dignified. So, while we're waiting in line (at 5-flipping-o'clock-in-the-morning) for the $6.00 croissant sandwich and $5.00 french toast sticks - these two are chattering like magpies about the Buckeyes, Woody Hayes (give it rest guys - he's DEAD) and how wonderful it is to find someone from Ohio (yeah, go back to the dead cat comment, pahlease).
The flight finally boards and the plane is packed to the wings. Luckily, it's early - to the babies and kids are blissfully quiet. I forgot my glasses in my purse, which is packed in my carry on bag and tucked in the overhead. Boredom takes a seat right next to tired, tucked right between tired and punchy. Out of the computer bag comes the camera and I'm shooting pictures out the plane window. I'll post some -- boredom really does breed stupidity in me.
Miami Airport. They should just blow that place up and start over with some sense of logic. Off the plane and walk forever, for miles and miles, for eons to passport control, then walk for another three days to luggage (which we don't have)then tocustoms, out of customs - follow the green dots to the yellow dots, up the elevator to security -- I want to scream -- where o where do you think I could have picked up contraband between the plane and here? morons, idiots, adjectives scream in my head as I get into another line to take off my shoes and unpack my laptop and go through the whole process again - cripes. We get through this and now we wait and wait and wait -- three and half hours. Doug wants pizza - the closest thing they have to pizza (no disrespect truly intended here) is Pizza Hut. Miami Airport is a shambles - a mess - they should be ashamed of it. Miami Airport is boring, stone cold boring. I'm not even going to write about those long hours. Finally we get on the plane and 40 minutes later we get into Tampa.
Thank God for Mike -- he picked us up and drove us home...
Get dressed, straighten up the room one more time - pull down the used towels and put them in a little pile -- drink coffee, pack up the rest of my stuff. Go out into the hallway to the stairway and see what the weather is doing - oh no, nanananananana naaaa na naaaa na - BAT MOTH! Swoops past my head and into the night. Apparently he lives here. 4AM - no wake up call -- wake Doug up -- 4:03 - wake up call comes in. Bring Doug coffee. Phone rings - driver is here -- crap, it's not 4:30 yet - hold on, we're coming, just a few minutes. Finish gathering up the towels, wash the coffee pot out - leave a tip for the housekeepers and out into the hallway we go -- and there he is -- Bat Moth -- sitting (is that the right word? Do moths sit?) on the floor outside our door - he's either saying goodbye or is a fame whore - looking for more exposure on the blog -- there, ya little bugger - here's another 15 minutes of fame for ya.
The drive to the airport is pretty quiet and soon enough we're there -- in the doors and to the right - get in line to pay the $26.00 per person departure tax, down to the AA counter and in line for that, oh wait - first we have to get past the departure tax police so we don't sneak out without paying the tax. Check in, down the hallway and in line for the security checkpoint. Get through that and now a line for breakfast.
A movement catches my eye -- a woman is waving her arms - no wait - so is Doug. Jeez, ya can't swing a dead cat without hitting someone from Ohio, can ya -- Doug and this woman aren't just waving their arms, they're spelling out O*H*I*O ala the Village People's YMCA dance. Dignified, so dignified. So, while we're waiting in line (at 5-flipping-o'clock-in-the-morning) for the $6.00 croissant sandwich and $5.00 french toast sticks - these two are chattering like magpies about the Buckeyes, Woody Hayes (give it rest guys - he's DEAD) and how wonderful it is to find someone from Ohio (yeah, go back to the dead cat comment, pahlease).
The flight finally boards and the plane is packed to the wings. Luckily, it's early - to the babies and kids are blissfully quiet. I forgot my glasses in my purse, which is packed in my carry on bag and tucked in the overhead. Boredom takes a seat right next to tired, tucked right between tired and punchy. Out of the computer bag comes the camera and I'm shooting pictures out the plane window. I'll post some -- boredom really does breed stupidity in me.
Miami Airport. They should just blow that place up and start over with some sense of logic. Off the plane and walk forever, for miles and miles, for eons to passport control, then walk for another three days to luggage (which we don't have)then tocustoms, out of customs - follow the green dots to the yellow dots, up the elevator to security -- I want to scream -- where o where do you think I could have picked up contraband between the plane and here? morons, idiots, adjectives scream in my head as I get into another line to take off my shoes and unpack my laptop and go through the whole process again - cripes. We get through this and now we wait and wait and wait -- three and half hours. Doug wants pizza - the closest thing they have to pizza (no disrespect truly intended here) is Pizza Hut. Miami Airport is a shambles - a mess - they should be ashamed of it. Miami Airport is boring, stone cold boring. I'm not even going to write about those long hours. Finally we get on the plane and 40 minutes later we get into Tampa.
Thank God for Mike -- he picked us up and drove us home...
Friday, June 18, 2010
It's 8PM - Time for Bed - 4AM comes early!
Well, it's our last night here -- dinner for Doug consisted of:
1/4 Chocolate Cake, with chocolate icing
1 Can Peaches
1/2 Quart Vanilla Ice Cream
and I'm not sure what else - we're cleaning out the fridge.
Since I have a milk allergy, that left me out of the "sugar rush" and since we have no butter - forget the boxed stuffing (thankfully) and since I cannot, absolutely cannot face one more scrambled egg (which would had to have been nuked) forget that. I had some crackers, until the 'greasy' quotient got to me.
Hopefully, after we get up at 4AM (OMG, 4AM - the horror - I HATE morning and truly believe that God does not want us to rise before the sun does) and get to the airport, pay our exit tax, check in with American Airlines, go through security - IF I'm not arrested for terminal bitchiness, hopefully there will be coffee and breakfast on the horizon.
I know - you're thinking why didn't you just go out to eat and toss all that crap. Well, the oh so infamous italian restaurant didn't open until 7PM tonight - by the time we got back, it would have been too late -- they feature nice, civilized, slower paced service. It was pouring out -- no way could we walk any place. Grab a cab you say and find a restaurant? That's a whole different bag of worms we didn't want to delve into on our last night.
Funny thing -- I have mixed emotions about this departure. I really, really want to go home - I want my dog, I want my bed, my sofa and my kitchen. I want my friends. I want to go back to work.
I also wanted a few days with Doug, alone. I wanted a couple of days where we could relax and just enjoy each other.
I guess I'm just selfish - I wanted it all.
Thankfully, Doug is doing well and we'll be home - things will go back to 'normal' and maybe next year or the year after we can take a couple of days and embrace "Pura Vida" - no matter where that may be.
Well, I'll update you all tomorrow - but probably not until we hit the states and the home internet. Can't hardly wait to see what the dawn has in store for us.
Buenos Noches Todos!!
1/4 Chocolate Cake, with chocolate icing
1 Can Peaches
1/2 Quart Vanilla Ice Cream
and I'm not sure what else - we're cleaning out the fridge.
Since I have a milk allergy, that left me out of the "sugar rush" and since we have no butter - forget the boxed stuffing (thankfully) and since I cannot, absolutely cannot face one more scrambled egg (which would had to have been nuked) forget that. I had some crackers, until the 'greasy' quotient got to me.
Hopefully, after we get up at 4AM (OMG, 4AM - the horror - I HATE morning and truly believe that God does not want us to rise before the sun does) and get to the airport, pay our exit tax, check in with American Airlines, go through security - IF I'm not arrested for terminal bitchiness, hopefully there will be coffee and breakfast on the horizon.
I know - you're thinking why didn't you just go out to eat and toss all that crap. Well, the oh so infamous italian restaurant didn't open until 7PM tonight - by the time we got back, it would have been too late -- they feature nice, civilized, slower paced service. It was pouring out -- no way could we walk any place. Grab a cab you say and find a restaurant? That's a whole different bag of worms we didn't want to delve into on our last night.
Funny thing -- I have mixed emotions about this departure. I really, really want to go home - I want my dog, I want my bed, my sofa and my kitchen. I want my friends. I want to go back to work.
I also wanted a few days with Doug, alone. I wanted a couple of days where we could relax and just enjoy each other.
I guess I'm just selfish - I wanted it all.
Thankfully, Doug is doing well and we'll be home - things will go back to 'normal' and maybe next year or the year after we can take a couple of days and embrace "Pura Vida" - no matter where that may be.
Well, I'll update you all tomorrow - but probably not until we hit the states and the home internet. Can't hardly wait to see what the dawn has in store for us.
Buenos Noches Todos!!
I Ate A Trout
I took my own advice and "opened my palate and my mind" -- our driver loves cream soup. It was lunchtime. We asked for his opinion on a place to go while heading back down the mountain. He took us to a restaurant famous for its Trout. They catch them here, in this lake. He thinks their cream soup is the best in the world.
I've never eaten Trout before, but hey - "when in Rome....." They had Trout cooked like a million different ways so I picked one and hoped for the best.
I should have taken a picture, I know, I know. Out came a plate with a lovely mound of white rice, a small salad (YAYAY SALAD!!!!) and half a small fish (sans head, thank you very much) covered in a white wine, mushroom, cream sauce with almonds.
Did I mention I'm not big on fish? I don't like fishy fish. I like shrimp, lobster, some mahi and swordfish - flaky fish, not fishy fish. I had NO clue.
Did it have bones? Was there skin and scales under that sauce???? Who knew!?!?! Oh the adventure of it all....
I took my fork and took a nibble -- oh YUMMO -- flaky, not fishy at all -- ew, skin underneath - don't eat it - so I did what I always do with new things -- I played with it -- little nibbles and bits, until Doug said -- are you having fun. I looked up and there were the two of them - grinning at me. Apparently taking teeny tiny little nibbles and bits while examing the skin and meat and texture is funny.
Lunch was good. Freshwater Trout is good. I tried something new. Ha.
Coming Down from Acid Lake
Coming down a mountain sounds so much easier than going up one, doesn't it. I thought so too (so did everyone else, except our guide - HE knows better). While Doug shows us his Charlie Chaplin walk I discover a whole new set of muscles and tendons I had forgotten existed while living in flat Florida.
I was feeling old until a girl walking UP the mountain managed to wheeze out "can you believe I'm only 20?" Ah, yes -- it ain't just me!
People heading up kept asking -- how much farther and is it worth it. We based our answers on their general condition (I know, judgmental, but who wants someone to have a heart attack!)
Photos going up the mountain to the volcano
See the guy with the HUGE cows?? He stands there all day long awaiting unsuspecting tourists with their tour guides to stop and shoot pictures -- then your driver tells you he would like a dollar - so we happily pass out a 500 Colone coin and continue up the mountain...
Doug says I need to post pictures of that church
Truly magnificent - from the 1800's and you can see it from miles away!
Pictures of the Acid Lake
So, if it's an acid lake -- how come it doesn't eat through the earths crust and put out the lava......
Why Oh Why Does Anyone Listen to ME???
So, we've gotten to the Volcano, seen the crater, harassed the poor hummingbirds, taken pictures of the green squirrel and start the long loooonnnnggg trek back down the mountain. Oh, Wait -- Whereever could THAT path lead I ponder aloud ---- Jacob says it goes up to the "dead crater, with the lake in it" ---- GEE, doesn't THAT sound fun. Yeah, we should do THAT too. OOOHHH, spooky trail - let's DO IT. Oh, sure, it'll take 20 minutes of hiking, but hey - how bad can it be. Can YOU say IDIOT?
Six minutes up the trail and I'm pantin' like a pony at the end of the preakness. Slyly I stop to snap photos of oh so interesting moss - like I'm fooling anybody - there's NO AIR up here. We continue to hike and stop, hike and stop and oh, what's that sound??? Thunder, you say? In Costa Rica in rainy season?? Naw, couldn't be. Oh joy, Oh bliss -- upward and now with STAIRS -- am I gonna cry Uncle and say screw it - nope, not me because I - apparently - don't have the common sense God gave a grasshopper.
We made it -- yup, itza lake. An acid lake we're told - nothing lives in it or on it or around it. Just a big ol' acid lake. Photos on next page..... because I want YOU to feel the same excitement we did hikin' up the freakin' mountain.
The Green Squirrel
He's green!! A tint, a tinge - but he is seriously green. I don't know if he's moldy or not, but he's green.
Sigh, I chased that little bugger all over the place trying to get decent shots. Once again, I amuse the locals......
Pictures of the Big Hole, er, Crater
Yup, there it is -- the crater at Poa. When we arrived at the Park and got out of the van, the air smelled so fresh - so clean - it was amazing. When we got to the crater you could smell a bit of sulpher -- as the clouds rolled in from the Caribbean, bringing that leaden feeling the sulpher scent got trapped -- yup, it's a sulpher lake all right....
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