We got some masks and kicked it up. A party store is down the street, so for a few colones, we picked out some masks and had some fun. It was inevitable that Addison went for Barney. I looked like an over-decorated chicken. We got the nanny to put hers on for about ten seconds. Then, we found out it was her birthday. A date I’d either forgotten or never knew in the first place.

Well that took the party mode up a notch. I slipped into the kitchen and made a small cake out of some batter I actually had in the fridge. A few candles and then we were on our way. And the masks just keep on giving as Addison keeps his hung in reach and puts it on when the mood hits him.

What makes us realize we’re going in the wrong direction? The amount of choices we have to make in one day can be crippling if we think about it too long.

I watched this sister walk up the street and back again. She must have decided she was going the wrong way. Where ever she was headed, she turned around and went back again.

With kids, I wonder about each thing I feed them, each activity I enroll them in, each medicine I pour down their throats, and each word I choose. It’s a daunting task to know which job to take and which chicken combo dinner to pick at the fried pollo shack.

The only thing that’s made me sane is perhaps realizing whatever the choice I do make, I have to know, I can go back - sort of - and at least try it again a second time or the next time. Maybe then all will be right and the compass will always be pointed towards the right path.

At almost every turn, it seems there is another building going up. Yet at the same time “for rent” signs are just as fast to go up. Spaces sit empty, and those once rented often end up empty in just a few months.

Maybe there are those that know something I don’t. I don’t know who’s going to rent, or buy, all these places. It took me years to figure out the big move to Costa Rica. It’s not easy to just pick up and go.

Time will tell. As always, time will tell us more than we could even know.

All over the country of Costa Rica, people wait in line for the bus wait. It is an amazing, yet unspoken, act of patience and tolerance. A line forms in the same direction every day, come rain or shine.

Policeman stand next to nurses who wait behind cleaning ladies. We’re all one when we have to get around. We carry our things to get from one place to another with the faith in that it will be safe and sound.

I am never “less-than-amazed” at the patience of the working class as they step up to wait in line, after another long day.

Costa Rica is known for it’s rainy season and then it’s dry season. What is often not mentioned is how dry the dry season can be. The Trade Winds that blow in about December can blow the tops off roofs and snap trees in half. Not to mention what it does to our vision.

When packing for Costa Rica and planning time in the Central Valley during the dry season, by all means throw in that bathing suit and sunscreen. But don’t forget your hat and scarfs and combs and rubber binders or perhaps a good, short hair cut. Otherwise, you might just look like this for about six months of the year. Or you won’t be able to see a thing.

The rain has been swept away by the December winds in the Central Valley of Costa Rica. The dry season means a lot of great things, including getting reacquainted with our beautiful sunsets and airing out the nooks and crannies of closets. I always find this change of season also brings along with more drama than I’d been expecting.

Happily, I’ve returned to hanging up laundry as it now dries in a flash. As I was slipping shirts on hangers, I heard a scream that was the kind reserved for major child drama. I turned around to see a red-faced Coco with a dead guinea pig hanging from her hands.

If you’ve ever been in a car accident, you will know there is that time that slows down - as if it spins in slow motion. When I saw the dead animal, I saw the rest of my afternoon play in slow motion before me: Tears; wailing; heartbreak; shovels; dirt; digging; a funeral. Coco cried so hard she started to cough. If I didn’t get the nuts and bolts of the burial moving forward, I’d be wiping back tears all afternoon and non-stop questions of that dreaded “next pet.” I had to move fast to move on.

“Let’s get a towel,” I said, afraid of what can happen to a warm, dead body when it’s dangling from the hands of a desperate child. Maisy was the last in a lineage of nine guinea pigs. Though we gave away most, three remained. The mother of Maisy died in June of last year.

“I need new pet! Who’s going to be my pet?” she said between choking on her spit. While my daughter was trying to fill the whole of a broken heart, I couldn’t help but think about taking back a cute little balcony I have - with a view of the mountains. It was the only place I could put the critter and not attract rats and thousands of cockroaches.

It didn’t take long to process the death. I told Coco we should work on being grateful for the life Maisy gave us. We can’t think about new pets when we have to say goodbye to our old ones. It seemed to work. She went off to play, coming back once and awhile to check on the burial plot. After searching for 1/2 with my shovel, I finally found a place in my small garden that wasn’t root bound. I soaked the ground with water and chopped back roots to make a place, I’d hoped was big enough. (Thank goodness it wasn’t a rabbit, or it would have never fit.)

I got a Bible my grandmother gave me; a rosary my father had; and a Virgin Mary Coco got from one of her nannies. I guessed Maisy was going down as Catholic - or at least a good Christian. She was loving and shared while on this earth. Coco and I stood at the grave. Then, I heard this non-stop crunching.

“Do you think could stop jamming those cookies in your mouth while we have the funeral?” I asked her.

“Oh. Yeah,” she said, but not before shoving one more in her mouth. After setting the bag aside, she bent down to say her goodbyes. Then, I said a few words. We hugged.

“Can I go play?”

“Sure,” I said. I took the shovel and covered up the rodent. She was so much bigger than I’d remembered. I covered the grave with plants and rocks and set the Virgin Mary on top.

That night, I sat on my balcony. Over the time the guinea pig had lived on it, I hadn’t noticed my distant view of the mountains had been taken up by palm trees. It’s almost hard not to have a view in Costa Rica. The one shown in the picture above is a view from someone else’s home, but one can look up or down and easily see the majesty of any mountain side or top - wherever we are in Costa Rica.

Oh well. I sighed.  It didn’t matter. I could stare at the same tree and never see all it has to offer. The wind blew and the leaves rustled. I looked down upon the grave and said: Thanks Maisy. May you run with all the other guinea pigs in the sky.

Walking to the grocery store, I saw this in the window. Who would send this to Costa Rica? I imagined it sitting box, held up for all to see and then someone saying: Where the heck is Minnesota? And what exactly is hockey?

Since I’m a sucker for signs - I walked closer for inspection. Sure enough, it was a replica of an antique banner from the University of Minnesota. The Pittsburgh Stealers was right next to it and a few fake diplomas from the University of California.

Then I began to think how “this” Minnesotan got here. My world used to revolve around the teams, the games, the spirit of my fellow Northerners. Though I love them still, I might not be able to tell a wing man from a defense man. And stand up on ice? With skates??!! I’m into sand, beaches, sunburn control and on the constant look out for monkeys now. Boots, mittens, and Schnoeps are a long gone part of my past.

Isn’t it funny where we once were? It shall be quite interesting to find out where we have yet to go. But to be sure -  when Garrison Keillor comes to Costa Rica, I’ll be the first in line.

With Thanksgiving come and gone, it was like it never was. In Costa Rica it’s just a regular old Thursday and Black Friday is just another day before the weekend. The whole U.S. holiday frenzy was a tiny blip on our family’s computer screen.

I finally let Coco open a few box of Christmas decorations, and though she was a glittery and happy, I felt cheap. Oh well, it was a small price to pay in order to avoid buying a turkey, which costs almost as much as my rent….or at least felt like it.

I did stop to give thanks though. Thanks for everything. And most importantly, I’m not a turkey on Thanksgiving day (though I’ve been known to wear a lampshade over my head on occassion).

One of the modern day habits I left behind is the daily news on television. It is possible to get American television stations, thus it’s pretty easy to stay tuned to what the American media has to say.

Every few months or so, I sit down and take in a dose of morning shows like Today and Good Morning America. That’s turned out to be quite enough. In one morning I learned that one woman tried to kill her husband like three times and got caught by an undercover cop. Chasity Bono is now Chaz Bono. And the medical profession has down a big switch on how effective and when to get mammograms.

What we knew was true, swore to be true often changes. I remember when Chasity was a cute little girl on the Sonny and Cher show. And how many times have we found out one thing we do in the medical world is just plain bad for us or wrong or upside down? My father’s family grew up eating bacon and pig fat. And plenty of it. They swore by it.

I think I’ll cling to nothing that seems logical. And, I think I’ll watch perhaps even a little bit less of those morning shows.

Digging out from the crisis of health challenges is a monumental task. It is amazing to think of the time, money and resources we all have to spend to keep ourselves and our children well.

I’ve been trapped in the Hospital de Ninos in Costa Rica with my son for almost two weeks now. There’s no such thing as Internet and barely enough soap to go around. But there’s a dedicated and serious staff taking care of a lot of sick kids.

Addison is doing great. He’ll be back home soon. Since it’s our first stay, he’s getting checked out from head to toe - and it’s along process.

But we’re peering out from the deep halls of this concrete jungle and will be back soon.