At least once or twice a week, I can count on looking right up a horse’s behind during a long mountain drive. And if it’s not of the equine persuasion, I’ll be staring at the business end of a bovine, or porcine. It’s slow going when I get stuck behind one of these little trucks. But I always get stuck behind one of these little trucks. Luckily this one wasn’t spitting out stinky diesel fume or burning oil. The horse’s didn’t emit anything either.

There’s no where to pass, as you can see. So, it’s another lesson in patience. In fact, I like to turn it into one of those weird and hilarious music videos I see on a daily basis. The Crash Test Dummies come up on the shuffle:

How Does a Duck Know?

How does a duck know what direction south is? And how to tell his wife from all the other ducks? You can cut a chicken’s head off, but it will keep on running and twitching….

When everything seems planned out. Everything seems nicely planned out. Well the human race will come smack your face……

And when the Dummies fade and Billy Holiday begins a delicious Cole Porter ditty, I turn up the volume and sit back and enjoy the view.

I sold lemonade on the corner of my block. Little table, a sign, and a few cups…I think I made 30 cents. So my daughter decides one day off from school she’s going to sell lemonade. She makes the sign - in Spanish and English - squeezes the lemons - which are really green limes here - decides on a price of 100 colones (about 20 cents) and sets up for sale.

It’s amazing how songs and traditions pass down like blood pumping away, and we don’t even know it. I told her nothing about selling lemonade on the street corner. Well, today it’s in the condo complex, but the lessons are all the same. The budding entrepreneur made 300 colones. As she wait sitting for more customers to pass, she drank the rest of her profits.

The juxtaposition of the “developing part of Costa Rica” mixed with with the “old-day Costa Rica” is bizarre and surreal. On runs, I often pass this huge mall packed with all the modern conveniences we need to keep us distracted from the real movies of our own life. I trot by nice homes, expensive furniture stores, and then tin shacks, a falling down bridge, and always to my delight, usually a cow or two (or at least a goat). And the funny thing? The rich and the poor are all mixed up. This cow pasture was right next to a big, busy store that sells discounted boxes of stuff from China. Sadly, I know these empty lots and lovely beasts will too give way to the cement of parking lots and shrines of shopping. But for now, I can enjoy the show. The lady above wandered over, slowly, to check me out.

In fact she was so friendly, she kept nudging her way closer. I think she wanted a pet on the snout. What do you think?

The next morning, three baby birds sat on my railing. Two pigeons and a brown one. The brown one flew away when I got my camera, but the two palomas remained for hours. I recognized our fledgling, but this other little one? Maybe it is his sister - the one “gone missing.” It was so fantastic to know that the night passed and the baby made it. Off to another day to stretch his wings. And he’s not alone. It’s always better to travel in pairs. I’ve got a feeling they’ll be back.

The first pigeon that tried to nest on our patio, failed. One day, she just disappeared. We found the two eggs alone after waiting for several days. The next mother had more success.

She roosted in the same nest and had, again, two eggs. They hatched. One day, one of them fell onto the balcony. We replaced it back into the nest. Days later, we noticed just one baby, which got bigger and bigger. In fact this youngster was so large their was hardly any room for the mother.

This morning the baby tried it’s wings at flight. He didn’t get far. He sat on the balcony next to the guinea pig cages. (Wonder what they thought.) The mother was calling in the distance. She returned to the nest and appeared a bit stunned that no one was there. The little one saw his mother and took a leap up to the green beam and back to the nest. They snuggled together and competed for room. He wasn’t ready. But that afternoon, I guess he was.

I went back to check and saw a pile of droppings on the guinea pig cage. The young bird must have sat there for a long time before taking the big leap. We never did find out what happened to that other baby.  Yesterady afternoon, we’d found a baby sparrow that had fallen out of it’s nest. I almost stepped on it. Despite our efforts, he didn’t make it either. I guess the ones that are still here, that have had the grace of making it, are the ones with the work to do: find seeds, worms, fly, soar, and strut along the cement with our heads held high.

Ants belong on flowers. Not crawling up and down my hands and arms and over my computer and inside the box of cookies I just made and all over the dishes drying in the sink……..These particular ants are really, really small. Upon entering the kitchen and in a matter of seconds, I will usually have an ant crawling on my skin. It feels like a piece of hair that’s fallen on my back or arm, and I can’t find it. Creepy.

I don’t want to smash the little buggers, I just would like them out of my kitchen and back out with the plants and nature where they belong. However, I am quite aware that the goodies in my kitchen: honey, butter, left over cereal milk, bread bits, and anything - even fingerprints - attract them. I cannot remove them from my skin without killing them. I feel bad every time, but it’s a matter of self-defense.

Once and awhile I miss products I could get in the U.S. One of them is Terro and Borax. Vinegar and/or lime only works sporadically. I am sure there are billions of cousins and aunts and uncles nesting behind the walls. I know a little of that Terro goop on a piece of cardboard would do the trick. And I’d love a box of Borax. It’s also great on cucarachas - cockroaches. My mom brought down a box of Borax once in her suitcase and one day (back in my old life when I had a maid and we were out of laundry soap), I told the maid to use a cup. I guess I didn’t make it to the store for a few days because she proceeded to use the entire box. After 9/11 I don’t know if I’d even bother. In fact I’m sweating bullets wondering if I can bring Addison’s gel-like food on the plane when we head up for a visit.

Living in the tropical climate means coming to terms with bugs. Big bugs. Little bugs. Ugly bugs. Frightening bugs. Annoying bugs and helpful bugs. (Ever see a swarm of ants carry away a cockroach corpse?) I don’t want to live without these bugs. I’m quite aware that in this circle of life we’d be worm food - heck we’d be ant food if we didn’t have ants.

How’s that for logic?

No one needs to tell a parent that time flies. Downtown San Jose stays pretty much the same. The pigeons; those stone seats by the National Theater; the people selling bags of corn for a few pesos under the trees. And my child? Today Coco looks like she was replaced by aliens with a taller version of herself and a smaller version of me.

Those little red slippers? Her first pair of velvet red slipper I found at a used clothes store. She wore them so often she scraped the toes off so I had to color them in with magic marker. Now she won’t wear dresses. But she’s still got those chubby cheeks and squints the same in the bright sun.

Every day I’m torn between moving ahead and holding on. But I can’t stop the earth from spinning. Though goodness knows I’ve tried.

I had no idea that squirrels ate coconuts until one day I heard the scratching and gnawing outside my window when I was at the beach. I looked over at a bunch of coconuts and water - coconut water - was dribbling out of one. One of these little squirrels was eating a coconut. This is not easy work, for as you know coconuts are hard. Gnaw and gnaw and nibble. Finally the little fellow got a hole and ducked inside and started grasping the coconut meat.It turns out there was a pair that lived in this area. All the people in the area knew of them - they were famous. Once and awhile the squirrel would look at me, pause, and then chew on. I was polite and didn’t point. But I did know I was in the middle of a delicious treat.

After changing Addison’s diaper, I threw away the old one, which was full of yesterday’s lunch and dinner, and searched for a new one. When I returned he obviously hadn’t finished the job, because he unloaded more onto the clean sheets. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and decided if I pick the child up and carry him to the toilet, I could put the goods right where they belong. When I got to there, something was missing. I had Addison, but the flattened BM once stuck firmly to his buttocks, was no where in site. I held him over my head, tipped him to and fro, nothing. I retraced my steps. IT was no where to be found. Then I looked down and there IT was: stuck to the top of my shoe. And, of course I was wearing Crocs - the kind with all sorts of holes on top.

Who do you clean up first in this situation? I decided on Addison; threw my shoes in the tub; and carried on with my day. This wasn’t going to set me off to a bad start because we were going to the beach. Later that day the kids and I arrived at our destination in paradise around sunset. We all tripped on our way out of the car, junk tumbling behind: DVD player, empty water bottles, suitcases, clean diapers, dirty diapers, stuffed animals, wet wipes, and about 100 other big and small items we couldn’t live without for a weekend. We looked like we’d been dragged behind the car, and we smelled as if we’d been living in the vehicle for a week.

The air was lush and the plants green, something I love counting on when I visit the Caribbean. We stretched and came to life. Coco and I discovered a howler monkey about 10 feet in front of us. We walked under the tree and this young female looked down at us. Remembering they often pee when humans come near them, we stepped back a bit. The howler grabbed the fan of a large palm and traversed across to another sturdy branch. She turned her back to us and hung her behind past the limb.Look out! I said.The monkey peed. Then….the monkey took two large poops. Wasn’t this how I started my day? Coco laughed so hard she started to pee in her pants. She took off running to the cabin yelling: I’ve got to poop!

I felt oddly complete, as if I had come full circle.

The new always mixes with the old. Sometimes the past pokes at my senses and I miss it: the guinea pigs and dogs now gone; the smells of my old backyard; the dreams of a life that turned out to be an illusion; the nob on the bathroom door missing a lock; the stove that didn’t work; the green couches; and the walk around the block.

There is this great Tom Petty tune called The Apartment Song. It’s a song about how he misses his old life. He doesn’t want it back, but it just happens that this one night, he’s a bit lonely.

Oh yeah I’m alright
I just feel a little lonely tonight
I’m okay, most of the time
I just feel a little lonely tonight.

And sometimes that’s just it. A night where melloncally sets in. I want this shiny, new life, but it is possible to feel two things at once. In fact, is there any other way?