When Whole Foods Market came to my town in the United States, I was ecstatic. I’d shop for an hour or two, milling over which brand of organic eggs or beef or celery or salad dressing to buy.* On my way out, I’d load three neatly packed, sturdy, brown papers bags into the back seat of my car. After awhile, I purchased the cloth bags to tote the vegetables home. I even brought back those sturdy brown bags to use again.

Then, I moved to Costa Rica. A plastic bag free-for-all. There’s no question these bags with handles are handy, and since it does rain in Costa Rica, paper bags aren’t always a good solution especially when one has to take the bus or walk home. But the other day when I came home, my AAA batteries (which are encased in plastic to begin with) were inside a plastic bag inside another plastic bag. After a shopping trip, I will easily accumulate about 15 bags. Recycycling? Remember what it was like in the 1980s to recycle? Lugging the bags to faraway bins. If you were lucky you lived by the Goodwill. That’s kind of what it is like here. I moved to a city that used to recycle, but the program stopped. Now I’m back to driving my bottles to a bin, or finding a fellow I can take them to who will gladly haul take them from me every few weeks.

There’s no place to recycle these bags other than the bathroom. For those who do not know, living in Costa Rica is much like living on a boat: you can’t flush the toilet paper down the bowl. Those plastic bags come in handy for the little garbage pail that sits in all bathrooms. But we just don’t use the bathroom enough to recyle about 30 bags a week I end up brining home. I feel like I’m drowning in the things.

But, I’m returning to my roots. While shopping for curtains, my daughter and I came across this great orange, zippy looking pull-cart. Kind of an up-to-date, stylish model of the metal cart with two wheels.

Hey! Let’s get it. It’s not in the budget, but think of the gas we’ll save by walking to the store!

We choose orange over all the other bright colors.

The next day, we walked to the grocery store. I put the grocery cart next up to the cashier and started unloading the items onto the belt. My daughter started in on her deep desire for M&Ms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the grocery boy pulling out little white plastic bags.

NO! Stop!

I had even brought cloth bags to pack the vegetables in. I snipped at Coco to forget the candy and dashed for the vegetables. The young man looked at me as if I was looney. In a manner of ten seconds, he’d already packed up about eight plastic bags with an average of two items in each bag. My daughter still loomed long-faced by the chocolate and the cashier was ready for money. I felt like a defensive player on the basketball court: no matter how big I spread my butt, I couldn’t keep my court safe.

The grocery boy flung up his hands, rolled his eyes (crazy Gringa!) and went back to the his bench. I paid and began taking items out of the plastic. I left a pineapple and some plantains in bags so they wouldn’t leak in the cart. It’s not easy being green. But darned if we aren’t going to keep trying. We tipped the orange cart back and started walking for home.

*You can get fresh, organic food delivered right to your door in the Central Valley of Costa Rica from the fine people at NaturaStyle.

I don’t spend enough time being grateful for those little things in life. It is easy to take for granted - that in a flash - I would miss dearly if it wasn’t in my life.I am grateful for…my refridgerator, my feet, my sheets, my doors, my ceiling, my pens, my paper, my Internet connection, my elbows, my sink, the water that comes into the sink, my windows, my kidneys, my towels, my fingernails, my bed…………

So many of the people in the world live without the basics I take for granted. If we all stepped outside ourselves a few moments a day and thought, I mean really thought, about others, that’s where the change will begin. Political candidates can offer us nothing we cannot do for ourselves. Bookmark this site Miniature Earth to see a stark example of what exists outside our little worlds. Remember it and be grateful.

So my daughter says to me as two women pass us on the street:

Hey! They’re speaking English. We’re not the only one’s that speak English in Costa Rica.

This morning at the bank, I tell her as we dodge speeding cars along the side of the road, every person in the bank was speaking English.

Silence.

What did the people say?

I don’t know. But isn’t it amazing how much English you can here spoken now.

Now this is where I tend to get in trouble. I continue on as though my daughter is 27, not 7. It’s a sign I’ve been hanging around children way way too much and am a little desperate for converstion.

How many people were in the bank?

Not that many. I was close enough to hear that everyone was speaking English. I spoke Spanish though.

How could you speak Spanish?

Well it’s a Spanish speaking country, so I spoke to the tellers in Spanish.

Who tells them?

No, the workers. The workers speak Spanish.

I thought you said that everyone was speaking English.

Who’s on first? I said.

Silence.

What’s first mommy?

Who, I said. Who’s on first.

Silence.

Give me a couple of cable ties, and I’m a woman on fire. These things are brilliant: the sleek black lines, the crisp catch and the end of the pull, the flexibility, and ooohh… the efficiency. Yesterday, in my quest for an organized, slim-lined life, I moved my daughter’s computer from one room to another. I’d called the cable guys, and they couldn’t come until next week. When I have an idea, especially in the department of organization and design, I’m very bad at waiting.

Thanks to the hundreds of hours I stood around holding plywood, mixing cement, and fetching tools for my father when I was young, I have a good grasp of “fix-up”basics. I know my limits: I’m not going to climb on the roof or clean sewers, but with a ladder, tool kit, and good old-fashioned smacking and pulling, I can get a lot accomplished where others only dreamed.

Here in Costa Rica, women do not build or fix things. Rarely do they get up on ladders. (Of course there are exceptions.) Whenever people see me lugging trees or tools or ladders, I usually get a suggestion to get the handy man to help. There’s always a guy that’ll help. And I’m grateful when I need them because the labor is affordable, and it’s a blessing as a single mom to know there’s a professional out there that will drive to land of the lost to find a special hose that will fit my washer.

But a cable! Move a computer! Bring it on! I hauled the desk up the stairs, the computer, the millions of computer wires, and on and on. At the end of the job, I pulled out the cable ties. Who invented these things? Again, I say brilliant. In a sinch, wires once creeping like unruly snakes that even Indian Jones would be afraid of, are tamed. After I’ve finished, I keep a couple in my pocket looking around the house for a dangling something that needs to be brought to order.

In January when the Trade Winds blow into the Central Valley of Costa Rica, I am never amazed at their force. Blow and blow and blow. Trees bend; roofs rattle; hair styles are shot; cars shake; and dust is everywhere. It like living with the winds of a tornado that never touches down.

For the past three years, my son has not been able to sleep because of all the dust in the air. He’s just getting over a cold that’s lasted for five weeks. I jam him full fruits, vegetables, and even sneak ginger and garlic in his food in hopes he’ll finally sleep through the night. A few months ago, my mother brought down that door/sealer stuff to put between the door and frame. I stuck it on yesterday in hopes of keeping more of the dust out of Addison’s bedroom. When I finished putting it on, I patted myself on the back for thinking ahead - a job well done. When I closed the door, it wouldn’t shut.

About a week earlier, I moved those troublesome guinea pigs to the balcony, which of course opens from the door I now cannot shut. Three times a day it’s my daughter’s responsibility to give these critters some sort of leafy green vegetable. The two of us pushed on the door until we could get the lock to catch. She thinks she can shut it on her own. If she can’t, huge amounts of dust and wind will blow right into the room.

I’m never quite sure if thinking ahead saves me time and energy or causes me more grief. I’ve been bound and determined to get my new house set up and finished. You know, no "unfinished" little tasks hanging around to gnaw at my nerves. Then all will be perfect, tidy, and organized, right?! Hmmm….I better think this one through.

On the first few days of this New Year I….

Moved the computer from one room to another (which saved me cash because I didn’t have to call the "cable guys.")

Cleaned my daughter’s room.

Bought and dispensed a myriad of cough syrups.

Went for a walk.

Made breakfast. Made lunch. Made dinner. Made breakfast. Made lunch. Made dinner.

Did several therapies with my son in his bouncy/swing thing.

Danced to the dancing cow.

Watched the movie The Terminal Man.

Folded laundry.

Made fresh celery, apple, pineapple juices. (Threw a raw egg in mine….yikes!!)

Read poetry to my daughter before bed.

Finished the book: The Five People You Meet in Heaven.

That’s what it’s all about.

The New Year is Like….

Fresh sheets

Peaking sun rays

The tiniest toe of a child

Ice tea with fresh lemon

A carrot just pulled out of the ground

A baby turtle racing towards sea

New….new….new….bring it on!