Español and things that irk me...

The native language in Costa Rica is Spanish, or español. It is one of several of the romance languages and it's alphabet, unlike English, officially contains 27 letters: a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, l, m, n, ñ, o, p, q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, and z.

When I learned to speak, read and write Spanish, some 40+ years ago, the alphabet consisted of 30 "letters", 3 of which were letter combinations that have since been eliminated by the Real Academia Española (the ultimate authority on the Spanish language. The other 3 letters where ch, ll and rr.

Spanish was not easy to learn, but certainly it is much easier to master in your 20's than in your 60's. Now that I have turned into "that crabby old lady" (John's words, not mine) I get irked when people try to write in Spanish without taking the time to spell the words correctly. I see it all the time in the online forums and blogs of English speakers. Most of these folks depend on a spell checker to make sure their English is spelled correctly, but they don't bother to ensure their Spanish is spelled correctly.

At times, these misspellings can be rather comical, but occasionally they can be down right insulting. One of the biggest mistakes I see people making is spelling words with the letter ñ, or Ñ. Yes, this is a unique letter, not the letter N with an accent mark. The letter N is pronounced "ene" and the letter Ñ is pronounced "enyea".

I'm sure you've all heard the Christmas song by José Feliciano, that goes like this...

Feliz Navidad

Feliz Navidad

Feliz Navidad

Prospero Año y Felicidad.

Well, the word Año is one of my major pet peeves.... it is spelled "año" not "ano" and it is the difference between wishing someone a prosperous year, or a prosperous "asshole", or "anus" if you want to be anatomically correct.

Here are a couple of other examples the irk me...

cumpleaños (birthday)
Cumple, comes from the verb "cumplir", or to comply, so you can probably guess what it would mean if written as "cumple anos"

sueño (dream/ or sleepy.."tengo sueño")
But when written as "sueno" it means sounded, as in the past tense of the verb "sonar", or to sound.

Doña (title of respect as in lady, mistress or madam)
The word written as "dona" comes from the verb "donar", or donate. It is also a misspelling of the English word "donut". So if this is placed in front of a woman's name, it could mean "Donate Patricia", or maybe even Patricia Donut.

uña (nail---as in finger nail)
If written as "una" it means one, or the article an.

cañón (canyon)
When written as "canon" it means canon, dogma, or doctrine.

We have a local restaurant in Atenas called "Antaños", or "Yesteryears" in English. After this brief lesson, I'll bet you can noodle out the definition if it were written as "Antanos". I can't begin to count the number of times I've heard expats mispronounce this word. They probably get tired of me trying to correct them, but they need to suck it up. I'm just trying to help and pay it forward.

When I was learning Spanish, my best friend Maritza, a Tica, spent more time correcting me than she did talking to me. Here it is, some 40+ years later, and she still giggles when I mispronounce something in her native language. My Spanish will never be perfect, and everyday I learn something new. She continues to teach me and I continue to improve.

If you are learning español, you need to bookmark the Real Academia Española as your "go to" site when you need to know the correct spelling of a Spanish word. There is no better source. Another excellent resource is the Spanish Language Lab at Indiana University–Purdue University Fort Wayne

I'll get off my soapbox for now, but only until this old curmudgeon finds something else worth sharing.

Hasta luego señores...
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Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

'T was the night before Christmas, and all through la casa,
Not a creature was stirring: ¡Caramba! ¿Qué pasa?
Los niños were all tucked away in their camas,
Some in vestidos and some in pajamas.
While Mama worked late in her little cocina,
El viejo was down at the corner cantina.
The stockings were hanging con mucho cuidado,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would feel obligado,
To bring all the children, both buenos y malos,
A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

Out in the yard there arose such a grito,
That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.
I went to the window and looked out afuera,
And who in the world do you think quien era ?
Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero,
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero !
And pulling his sleigh instead of venados,
Were eight little burros approaching volados.
I watched as they came and this little hombre,
was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:
Ay Pancho ! Ay Pepe ! Ay Cuca ! Ay Beto !
Ay Chato ! Ay Chopo ! Maruca y Nieto !

Then, standing erect with his hand on his pecho,
He flew to the top of our very own techo.
With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chimenea.
Then huffing and puffing, at last in our sala,
With sooth smeared all over his vestido de gala,
He filled the stockings with lovely regalos,
For none of the children had been very malos.
Then chuckling aloud and seeming contento,
He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.
And I heard him exclaim, and this is verdad,
Merry Christmas to all, and Feliz Navidad.

Originally posted in the Yahoo Group, Costa Rica Living by: "A & A" fraluchi, December, 2012
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Ban Guns? No, eliminate the causes

In the wake of the horrific mass murder in CT, it amazes me how many people are again singing the "ban assault weapons" song. That's just plain ignorant. And I'm still amazed that NONE of the Sunday morning Talking Heads of the news/talk shows still can't step away from, "People don't need assault weapons to hunt." It ain't hunting, people. The Second Amendment is about giving the citizenry the means to fight off (defend themselves) from despots and groups of nuts who have designs on the country's freedoms -- and deer rifles are not at issue because you ain't going to fight off a rogue general, with a battalion of military grade weapons. You better have as many assault weapons as you can muster.

I know that I've written this so many times that it makes some of your heads hurt, but I think the Congress needs as many public reminders as possible.  For the security of a homeland, to the general population, a mess of excellent weapons, scattered all over a country, means more for that homeland's security, than any number of Bradley Fighting Vehicles and Predator Drones in the hands of an organized army.

Again, (you knew this was coming, didn't you) a history lesson.

Hitler did not invade Switzerland because he knew every single damn house in the country had a male head of household with the latest military grade rifle then in existence and knew how to use it.

Many of Japan's military leaders were similarly reluctant to entertain attacking the USA mainland because they knew that the citizens would fight them from every doorway and rooftop and that the weapons were not only "out there" but a big chunk of the population (WWI vets and rural hunters) knew how to use them.  Yamamoto even wrote a letter cautioning:

Should hostilities once break out between Japan and the United States, it would not be enough that we take Guam and the Philippines, nor even Hawaii and San Francisco. To make victory certain, we would have to march into Washington and dictate the terms of peace in the White House. I wonder if our politicians (who speak so lightly of a Japanese-American war) have confidence as to the final outcome and are prepared to make the necessary sacrifices. [emphasis added]

He had studied at Harvard for over two years and had done two Naval Attaché hitches in Washington, DC.   The reader may think that a country full of serious war weapons is a danger to them when in reality, it might be the reason they aren't speaking Japanese or German today.

Ban assault weapons?  Nah.

Every time government tries to legislate a problem from the back end, the problem gets worse or the "cure" goes out of control. 

Stop the drunkards:  The 18th Amendment -

"The manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited."

 What did that get us?  Highly enriched organized crime; blind and dead people from drinking bad liquor; and, maybe the worst effect, a general public disregard for a constitutional law.

The war on marijuana:  Millions of dollars spent against the horrors of our children becoming crazed zombies under the psycho effects of the devil weed, positively leading to addiction to opium, heroin and, oh, yeah, "sex, love, & rock and roll."  Tens of thousands of law enforcement, judicial & penal assets pissed away, resulting in a massive population of citizens with arrest records and subsequent meaningless incarcerations.

What did that get us?  Same thing as the first example.  Highly enriched organized crime and a lot of citizens "wounded" by the stigma of being criminals and (now) at least two generations of the general public with a disregard for a national law. (And, oh, yeah, probably 0.0000001% of the users ever graduated to heroin.)  [I just made that number up.  Go ahead and get me the citations to prove it wrong.  I'd appreciate your efforts.  Thanks.]

And, how's that knee-jerk Homeland Security thing working out for you?  Do you feel more secure now or are you amazed at how your freedoms have been impacted?  Have you traveled lately?  Tried to directly ship something by air lately, via air freight?  Visited a sea port lately?

So, should you stick your head in the sand ... business as usual?

Hell no.  Attack the problem.

Is the problem pervasive gun ownership?  While I'd say, "clearly not," if you want to legislate away assault weapons, and large magazines (they're not "clips" newsboy!) and anything else, please see above.

How about you get to know your neighbors so that you know if the young man down the street with the mom railing against the local school administration is bordering on being unstable?

How about if you speak up when you see or hear something disturbing developing?

How about if you raise your kids off of and away from the X-Box and absolutely know what they're doing for how many hours on the Internet?

And, even, how about if you quit being so damned "enlightened" about mental health because you saw the movie One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest and bring back mental institutions?  There has to be a place to put the wackos because you can't fix wacked with medications and/or touchy-feely halfway houses all of the time or nearly fast enough.  [Plus I might need a nice warm place to stay after the family reads this.]

How about if you all shun violent movies and video games?  They ARE an effing problem, whether you like to think so or not.  Just ask yourself, would you take your 5 year old or your 80 year old mother to the latest splatter movie?  Exactly why not?  Yeah.  Those are the reasons that you shouldn't be taking/letting anyone do that.  Free speech?  Let 'em speak all they want.  Just don't buy into it, thereby enriching the speaker and encouraging further such behavior.

That's enough hammering for now.  I hope you see my position.  

Good luck with this.  I'm down here in the Wild West watching.  .
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Bang! Motherf***er

Gun ownership in Costa Rica is pretty difficult for immigrants. I've begun the process and will see it through to completion over a period of about 60 days.

Day 1: First 6 shots. I think he's hurt.

Some people are appalled by guns. I see them as a tool. But I also take a lesson from history.

In Switzerland, every able-bodied male must serve in the military -- and then everyone who has served takes their service weapon home, permanently. After WWII, it was revealed that Hitler had designs on taking over Switzerland but was dissuaded from that course because his generals knew that there would be a rifle barrel greeting them from every window sill and mountain side. (It didn't hurt that the Swiss had built a network of fortresses into every mountain pass accessing the country.)

Behind a "wall" leaning out just enough to hit targets.

So, first, it's a tool of equalization for this old man, to protect us. Any time you swim in the ocean, there's a tiny chance that you'll be the target of a shark. Similarly, every day, while we're swimming in this ocean of humanity, there's a tiny chance of encountering a bad guy. Being gringos and grey-haired also ups the chances of an encounter.

Then, second, you're never safe and secure from hostile government takeover, no matter what you may want to believe. There are endless historical cases of unarmed sheeple going to the slaughter. I'm not crazy enough to think an old man could stand up to an air strike or even a Stryker squad; but, it's the factor of "how badly do they really want a country and how much are they willing to sacrifice to get it?" Germany decided against Switzerland and apparently, Japan's war plans steered away from a West Coast invasion of the U.S. for similar reasons.

Enough rant.

Here's what happens in Costa Rica, to gain the right of gun ownership.

First, you must be a Permanent Resident. Not a Pensionado, Rentista, Investor or Representante. Permanent Residency is granted after 3 years in one of these categories, or immediately through family linkage with a Costa Rican citizen (my situation).

Second, you're well advised to get on the inside of the gun crowd here because anything bureaucratic is incredibly complex and we all need any help we can get. So I found a gringo with connections to a local gun range and club. He offers an "urban handgunning" course and the implicit back-story is that by taking the course, there would be plenty of help through the bureaucracy.

I'm a decent shot with a good handgun understanding, as well as being pretty safety conscious. And, after spending the past several years in the Wild West post-Katrina Houston I had "situational awareness" well drilled into my psyche.  All of this was discussed in the handgun course.

Another topic of discussion was "the switch."  They didn't call it this but psychologists call it the "fight or flight" response.  When surprised with a threat, there is an adrenaline burst so that you can attack (fight) or run (flight).  Having volunteered in EMS services, firefighting, and wilderness rangering, I had experienced plenty of moments with "the switch."  The difference now is instead of switching into The Zone of under-stress performance, one has to understand that the performance is now going to be Bang! Motherf***er.  Controlled anger, aggression, performance ... immediately.

Day 2: On the attack after bailing out of the car.

The question everyone has to ask is, "Can I, without a second of hesitation, shoot another person?"

Are they threatening me or Pat with grave bodily harm? Oh? Well ... yes I can ... without a blink.

That's pretty much the totality of the course, other than firing off (200) 9mm rounds on a range, from behind "walls," on the move, retreating, advancing, dropping magazines and reloading from cover, getting out of and behind a vehicle while firing and a host of other life-threat situations.

Then the gubmint stuff starts.

First there is a written test, in Spanish. I'm allowed to have an approved interpreter (thank the FSM). It's kind of remedial but you have to pass it or you ain't owning a gun here.

Next there is a hands-on shooting qualification out on the range. Unlike Texas, where you are timed and placed under stress, shooting from various distances and situations, the Costa Rica test is just 10 rounds of .22 ammunition, shot at a static A4 target, set out at maybe 10 feet. You can take all the time you want and only 7 of 10 rounds have to hit anywhere on the target. Thanks. I think I got this one.

And then (!!) there's a psych evaluation by a nationally certified head doctor. Oh, cripes. This could be the deal breaker. I wonder if they'll let me have my "emotional support animal," Randall J. Russell The Superdog with me? I'll keep you posted.

Then you go get fingerprinted at some location. (This will be the third time in this country. Doesn't anybody share with anybody else?)

Finally, with 3 passport-size photos, my cedula (resident identity card), documentation of all of the above and a fistful of money I get to go stand in line all day at the Ministerio de Armas y Explosivos to fill out more forms and do the formal application.

Ta-chukata-chukata-chukata ... the wheels of bureaucracy shall churn and maybe they will grant me the right to acquire, keep and bear arms.

In the mean time, if things should get out of hand, I'll just have to cut 'em.
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Happy Thanksgiving

This year about 50 citizens of the good old U.S.A. are gathering at the home of friends here in Atenas to celebrate Thanksgiving. Everyone is chipping in to bring a favorite dish from the old country. We have volunteered to bring dinner rolls, so John will be busy baking his award winning Blue Ribbon Zephyr Buns early tomorrow morning.

Earlier this week, I took a look at the incredible list of food everyone is bringing to this feast, and much to my dismay, I didn't see any cranberry sauce or relish on the list. Now, I'm sorry, but I just can't call it "Thanksgiving Dinner" without the cranberries. I've been stewing over this for a few days, and knowing we wouldn't be going into San Jose (where we just might find some cranberries), I decided to invent a solution.

We just happened to have a large bag of Ocean Spray Crasins in the pantry. I combined the Crasins, with some other key ingredients, and I came up with some of the best Cranberry Relish I've had in years. I'll never go back to the canned stuff again. You can see the recipe at this link: Crasins Cranberry Relish.

This year will mark our second Thanksgiving holiday without you, our beloved family and friends back in the old country. We want you to know how grateful we are to have you in our lives and wish we could set a place for you here at our table. We are also thankful for our wonderful new life in Costa Rica and we are especially grateful for all the amazing new friendships we have found in this place we now call home.

We wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving surrounded by family and friends.

Love,
Pat & John
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Catching Up

Where to begin?  So much going on during retirement.

Visitors
 On the forums, there was a couple talking about being interested in checking out Costa Rica as a place of residence.  Next thing you know, they mention that they're interested in knives and guns.  That works for me!  We invited them to visit us in Atenas. 

Eventually several communications led to them coming to Atenas and staying in our Casita for a few days.  We had them legally "mule" in a few things we needed, which they kindly did, and we developed a friendship.  There is a high probability that they will be leaving the USA and coming back to this area to live.  They were very impressed with Costa Rica.  Although it was a LOT of work for Pat, I'm pretty sure a good time was had by all.

Zoo Ave [ah' vay]
There's a zoo on the old highway from Alajuela to Atenas which always struck me as a typical tourist trap -- big gaudy signs; high entrance fee; fences to keep anyone from seeing what's inside, etc.  So, I've never been there before.  Since one of our visitors is a nature photographer, we thought that the Zoo Ave might be a good bet for them ... and us.  Wow!  Did I misunderstand that place.  Zoo Ave is the most natural wildlife sanctuary that I've ever seen.  They shouldn't call it a "zoo" because North Americans and Europeans will envision a plethora of cages filled with scroungy looking critters.  This is the polar opposite.  First, they've recreated the rainforest, right there in the bustling city of Alajuela.  Then, it is a shock that many of the critters are just loose, flying and running around in their natural environment.  Only the raptors, rare or delicate birds and the dangerous things like crocodiles are confined -- but even these confinements are very cleverly constructed so that there is little sense of "a cage."  On top of that, the Zoo Ave is a major player in breeding and reintroducing endangered birds into the wild.  Additionally, they are a rescue organization for exotic rainforest fauna that have suffered through being "pets" and are abused or abandoned.  Wow.  Totally and highly recommended.  This place is now on our list of "must sees" for all visitors.

El Toledo Tour
The local organic coffee plantation is called El Toledo.  Organic.  There's so much horse crap in the market about organic this and organic that.  It is typically a turn-off for me because it is so often a B.S. way of getting the sheeple to pay extra for crappy-quality food.  It's a big scam.  So I was NOT very interested in El Toledo.  Yeah, their coffee, which we sampled once, was pretty tasty but it was significantly more expensive than the yummy stuff we regularly buy from our Atenas Co-op. 

We thought that Tracy Gano might get some good rainforest photos and they wanted to see a coffee plantation.  Seemed like a good idea for a morning tour before the afternoon rains.

Another "wow."

Coffee beans are stripped of fruit and cleaned automatically.

El Toledo is the tiny plantation of a 3rd generation family who had an "a-ha!" moment almost a decade ago.  They were growing coffee like many of the other 1200 small producers in the Atenas area.  State-of-the-art farming methods and liberal employment of the latest high tech chemistry to maximize production and minimize weed and bug losses. Just like everyone else.

The problem was that "Dad," the family patriarch, was suffering all kinds of strange weaknesses and sicknesses.  Could it be all of the chemicals being poured into the plantation to keep up to the industry standards?

Dad and his two sons decided to try a strange new plantation regimen called sustainable organic farming.

That involves restoring the soil to its rich, natural state by not clearing away the dead-fall and the natural weeds; creating catchments so that the topsoil and rains are held and allowed to percolate naturally down into the water table; terracing the coffee trees so that they gain a secure footing in the forest; using only natural mammalian fertilizers (manure) added to the soil; and, nurturing nitrogen-fixing legume vegetation throughout the plantation so that there is a natural shade combined with symbiotic soil enrichment.

You can SMELL the difference in the soil and forest as you walk the plantation trails.  We have regular coffee plantings all around us in Atenas and they are not the same as El Toledo.

These people are onto something.  The regular coffee operations spend 80% of their costs on chemicals and additives.  The El Toledo folks spend 20% for chicken and cow poop.  That's all.  Their crop yield is only 50% of the big commercial operations but the coffee buyers (and now we) are willing to pay a premium for the super flavor and chemical-free product.

Have we slipped over into the wack-o sustainable organic tribe?  Maybe.  Tour El Toledo and see if you can resist the spiel.

Visiting Tim 'n Meg
Our friends Tim and Meg live here and have made it their life-mission to live "better than well" here in Paradise, on a budget.  They are (obviously) experts at finding astoundingly fabulous living quarters in Costa Rica, at unbelievably low prices.  These people are funny, interesting, enjoyable and certainly "smarter than the average bears."

When we first met these two "magicians," they were living in a luxury condo, at the most exclusive resort on the Costa Rican Pacific Coast.  Absolutely a ga-ga lifestyle.  Price?  Less than a nice apartment in San Jose or any other decent CR city.

That was nothing compared to their present digs.  The new place is on the Pacific Ocean, but with views also backward into the rainforest.  Secluded and private.  (We had to traverse almost 10km of forest roadway and pass through 3 different guard gates before we even got into the vicinity of their house.)  An ultra-modern glass, wood and steel architectural wonder built into a jungle clearing, overlooking the ocean.  Multiple bedrooms and bathrooms.  Solar power generation array. Infinity pool.  Jacuzzi pool.  Gym.  Entertainment deck.  Gardens. Wild birds and critters the likes of which you'll only see on a National Geographic special.  You name it -- this place has it.  And, oh yeah, they've rented it for another price that would only get you a tiny apartment in Escazu.  How do they do this?

And yet ... there aren't two people we'd enjoy being with more than these two.  Great folks.

Roberto
Aw, geez.  Another pet.  A local sharecropper farmer lady came by a couple days ago carrying a good sized turtle.  She said that she needed to find him a home because the local dogs kill turtles and this one was obviously a stray, out of his element.

What to do?  Find him a natural forest home beside some river or stream or bring him into our walled compound where he can live a safe life only harassed by Randy and Gus?  Obviously the correct choice would be to find a beautiful little stream in the forest for "Bob."  Oh.  Did I forget?  This guy was immediately named Bob after my last dear departed turtle pet, lost to some Houston vandals many years ago.

Anyway, Bob took up residence in the back yard, along the wall covered with vetiver.  I dug in a small wading pool for him and stuck some barrier boards into the sod at both sides of the house.  Bob's new "cage" is a couple hundred square meters of lawn and garden.  Bob has already proven that he can climb over just about any barriers we create so it is probably a matter of time before he beats feet back into the jungle.

Update #1 - 29Oct2012:  Bob vanished from the backyard Sunday, 28 Oct.  He either managed to climb his 8" tall board barrier or someone decided to "borrow" him for awhile.  I hope it was the former and he is safely back down to the river hunting.

Update #2 - 31Oct2012: Bob didn't really vanish from the backyard. We found him hiding out in the tall Vetiver grass along our property wall on Monday afternoon. He's been out an about hunting bugs (we suspect) and the dogs, Randy & Gus, are starting to ignore him. Randy always runs out to check on him first thing in the morning, but we don't think he will hurt him now.

Earthquake
The big earthquake a few weeks ago really was a significant seismic even.  Nothing in my California days came even close, and a couple of those (Whittier, Landers, Northridge) were major shakers.  Having been quite close to the epicenter of the Landers twin quakes, when our CR big one started I said to Pat, right away, "This is big!"

Fortunately, we came through that with only a little broken art glass.

Then, 23 October, a smaller quake did some rocking and rolling here.  Although it was a lot smaller than the "Big One," the world news services must have been having a slow news day because they headlined the reports with things like, "Major quake strikes Costa Rica."  Friends and family were immediately online asking if we were O.K.  It's amazing what the news people can do with a word choice like "strikes."  Bottom line is that it was nothing.   Zero fatalities and no reported damage of import anywhere in the country.

Tropical Storm
Good ol' tropical storm / hurricane Sandy brought us bands of rain for several days.  Costa Rica has never been directly hit by a hurricane but when the storms are huge, like this one, we can see lots and lots of rain.  (Uh, it's the rainforest, baby.)  This one has given us squalls of rain bands through the night (rare) and afternoon (common.)  Not a big deal but it is welcome during this rainy season since we've not had as much rain as we wanted.

Hiking back to fitness
Yeah, I'm a little freaked out about controlling my weight here, in the land of abundance.  I've been working up to aerobic level almost every day, doing chores, for the year, plus, that we've been here.  I don't think I've ever been in better overall shape (and my tan is to die for.)  But, the few off-days and the limitless yummy stuff to eat is not good for anybody's girlish figure.  So, now that the heavy physical projects of house construction are winding down, we've started scheduled walking workouts.  Soon, we'll start bicycle workouts.  Maybe we can find an equilibrium point to balance the eats with the exercise.

Saint Ralph
The past week featured the feast of the patron saint of the City of Atenas, San Rafael.  The locals go all out for this fiesta.  At 0500 hours every morning the fireworks mortars fire off to announce the start.  There were several Catholic masses and many of the public and private businesses shut down.  Even in the rain of Hurricane Sandy (see above) the food booths and the arts n' crafts show were in full swing.  This went on all week.

Church pews were moved out into the street to give the community plenty of seating around the impressed Bingo tables for enjoying the good eats sold by an array of town clubs and restaurants.

Auctioneer closes the bidding on a fine steer.

Over in the church yard, cattle were being auctioned for Catholic charities around the permanent (!) pens and loading ramps situated inside the parish properties.  I could get into big-time trouble in an auction like this since the only Spanish I understood from the auctioneer's mouth was, "I've got (a bid of xxxx colones)," and then a blather of numbers, which could have been 50 cents or 50 million dollars.  He was talking too fast for me.  No problem.  I didn't bid on anything.  Then the rains started again.

So ... hey ... that's about it from down here in Central America.  What's happening in your neck of the woods?


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Pie Under Attack & Can't Get No Sleep

My personal favorite fruit tree here on the property is a little limón crillo, known in the States as the key lime. This tree pumps out a constant supply of juicy fruit. Its juice is super-yummy in Coke drinks and, if I'm extra nice, Pat will turn a handful of them into Key Lime Pie. {Everybody sing: "Heaven ... I'm in heaven and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak!"}

Yet, (horrors!) something has been attacking my little tree's leaves.

We had the gardener look over the victim and he immediately pronounced, "Ants."

"Where?" sez I.

"No, no, señor, they come only at night. You'll never see them," he said. {Yeah, right, another old wives tale.}

"Put poison all around the base of the tree and you will have no more problems," he said with authority. {Yeah, right, it will last about two hours of DAYLIGHT time until the afternoon rains come and wash it all away.}

Oh, well. We said thank you very much and sent him on his way. I haven't worked my way down the task list yet to the "Put poison on lime tree" entry. Maybe tomorrow.

I'm too tired right now. I need a nap. Here's why:

We have wireless motion detector sensors hidden all over the property. They feed their signals into a receiver in the bedroom where a recorded voice will announce which sensor has signaled, e.g., "Rancho uno!" or "Bodega!" etc.

At about the start of the rainy season, in the middle of the night, "Rancho uno!" would go off, thereby jerking my eyelids open with a bang. The first few times I'd fire out of bed, turn off the burglar alarm so I could open the doors, flip on the lights, grab my flashlight and my weapon de jour, rouse the dogs and race for the Rancho to do battle with the thieves, who were obviously raiding the Rancho refrigerator and stealing all of my beer (or something less important.)

Nothing.

Every time ... nothing.

We came up with all kinds of theories. Cats? Bats? Birds? (At 3am?) Lizards? Urk, snakes! Who knows, but I could never catch the culprit, no matter how fast I got out the door. We decided that there must be something wrong with the sensor and even discussed ordering a replacement for a friend to mule down from the States next month.

Pretty soon, "Rancho uno!" got ignored unless it went off more than once ... or more than 3 times ... or more than ...

Last night, it started going off. And again. "I'm not getting up. The hell with it." Just get to drifting off to sleep ... "Rancho uno!" And again. And again, damn it.

"THAT'S IT!" I got up, with a vengance. The full regalia. I went out armed to kill me some wildlife.

Pat was trailing along saying, "Just take the battery out and come to bed." I wanted me some blood but the battery idea sure sounded like a faster way to get back to bed.

Pat handed me a step stool and I pried open the sensor's cover -- tool in one hand, flashight under my chin. Reached in for the battery and just got a grip ...

"ANTS!!!" Little bitty bastards. Way tinier than the head of a pin. And, FAST! They were all over my hand and everywhere quicker than I could drop the cover and get off the step stool. "Damn ... Ants!"

What was really there.

What I'm imagining was there.

While I'm doing a really creative dance around the Rancho floor, Pat handed me a can of Raid, whereupon I blasted their microscopic li'l souls to the netherworld.

Turns out, they were nesting in the bottom of the housing of the sensor. AND, they only came out at night!

[See where I'm going with this? Tying this all back together? Bet you weren't expecting that!]

Once in awhile, some wandering soldier ant would head north, up the sensor wall and crawl across the receiver glass (about half the size of your little finger nail.) Bingo. Off goes the transmitter.

And, last night must have been Ant Night At The Rancho so they were all up and excited, running all over the inside of the sensor. Sheesh.

But now, I've keeeeled them all and maybe that was the nest that was attacking my beautiful little lime tree.

And maybe I can sleep tonight.

In the mean time, is it time for a nap yet?

P.S. from Pat: And after all that excitement, the sprinkler system started up at 1:30 AM, when it wasn't supposed to, so we were up again! I had to wait 15 minutes, until it finished watering the first zone. Then I made a mad dash run across the wet lawn to the controller box and shut it off. In the meantime, the wireless motion sensor is frantically announcing, "Bodega! Bodega! Bodega" and all the motion sensor lights around the house are turning on. It must have been quite a sight to see the crazy gringa lady running in flip flops and a nightgown across the yard!

Finally, we could settle down to some well deserved rest... but no, the neighbors new rooster woke up at 3:30 AM, which in turn woke up Calvin (see earlier post). In spite of all the interruptions, we did manage to get in a couple of hours of shut-eye, but it will be an early night tonight.
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A ham that is better than sex?

Oh, now of course, that’s a silly thing to say.  One has nothing to do with the other.

However ...

Sunday, we were the guests at a friend’s home for an afternoon of tapas and conversation.  The invitation was for us to arrive between 1 and 2 pm and we expected to get to hear about their recent vacation trip to Spain and other parts of Europe.

Turns out that they brought back some rare cheeses and what looked like a withered up leg-o-ham from Spain.

On a previous visit to their home, we had sampled a rare and special ham called Jamón ibérico which our host noted was very special and very expensive.  Uh ... understatement!

That ham came pre-sliced in a vacuum-packed little sleeve, slightly smaller than a sheet of paper.  This new ham was a major portion of the pig, bones, skin and all.

Take a look at Jamon Ibérico in Wikipedia for all of the skinny on this delicacy.

You can also see on Wikipedia that whereas some “lesser” Ibérico hams are sold with as little as 1 year of curing, most are cured for 2 years.  And if you’re really crazy for orgasmic eating, they actually sell one that is cured for 4 years.  The one we were now looking at was 4 years old. We were told that this ham started out at 30 kilos but after 4 years of curing it was down to - wait for it - only 8 kg!

Here’s how it goes down:  The ham leg, black hoof and all, is held by the “jamonera,” which is a special cutting board & clamp affair, made just to do this job right.  The chef uses a special trimming knife to remove any hardened skin and just enough fat so that sliced portions are principally lean.  Then he takes up another special knife with a very slender and thin blade, cutting paper-thin little bites from ½ to 1” wide x 1 to 1-½” long.  These are painstakingly arranged in a sunburst pattern onto the service platter.

Not sure what the eating etiquette is for something like this but it tastes purdy good just grabbin one of them little bitty patts and popping it into my mouth {snort!}.

Is it better than ... ?  Hey, remember that scene from When Harry Met Sally?  Yeah, that one; and when the older woman at the other table says, “I’ll have what she’s having.”?  I think if Sally's little "display" could be caused by food, she must have been having Jamón ibérico.

Burp.
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