The Last Leg

Bobbi picked us up at 2PM to arrive at 2:15 for our 2:55 flight. Ah, pura vida. No pressure.
Tom made a party out of our department. Drove down from Mt. Tom with a cooler full of beer. So sweet!
Fortuneately, all the weighing of baggage and us took place before he got there or they may not have been able to on the plane. I only had one berr, but it tasted wonderful as we watched the dust storms at the far end of the runway. It was just passing cars, but it did look a little like the Old West.
Many of the tales of Nosara sound like the Old West: armed robberies, armed drivers hoping to make it unmolested from Nosara to paved roads, midnight encounters with burglars reaching over a girl's head to get her purse; guard dogs let loose at night and riding shotgun on trips to the supermarket, etc.
We do enjoy a certain amount of protection, being related to Bobbi Johnson. Anmd risk some potential threats by being related to her. She is such an activist that she has made some enemies, hopefully none crazy enough to hurt her.
But there weren't any volcanos in the Old West. I am looking at Irazu Volcano as I write this. WE are in San Jose. I chose the Hotel Milvia owned by Florencia Urbina, an artist of some world reknown. Read about her in Nature Air's on-board magazine and have been looking forward to our stay here for some months. Hopefully, someone with a camera I might borrow will wander by. A pieture is worth a thousand words and I would love to post what I will describe. She is currently hosting a show by more than a dozen glass artists. A few pieces are very wonderful.But the highlight of the hotel is her work. The octopus from the plane's magazine is here. I love him. Every room is decorated in different funky styles, with walls bedecked by her work and the work of other artists. There are charming courtyards and fountains, unusual plants and sculptures. My favorites may be the giant metal bugs marching around a 3 tiered fountain, sunken in an enclosed courtyard, surrounded by guestrooms. As is everything in San Jose, the hotel is completely enclosed and behind gatess, What is unusual is that it entirely walled off tfrom the street. A tiny metal gate is the only entrance and the entrance is manned 24/7. Ring a charming bell and the attendant buzzes you in. The gardens are lush and charming, filled with sitting areas and exotic plants.
We went out to find a local restaurant and were disappointed that the delicious, cheap sushi place was closed. The local TIco joint was too far Andy to walk, as his hip is bothering him. We circled the block and got to a mall, with Argentinian, Jamaican and Mexican choices. We chose the Argentinian as I felt like having beef. That and Andy's chicken were very good. The profitarole (av very unusual treat) was the best ever. I loved wanting to wear jeans and burrowing under heavy covers iin the cool mountain air. Quite a relief from the dry, dusty Nosara air, where we didn't even use a top sheet.
We will have breakfast here and Louis, our cab driver from yesterdaqy, is supposed to pick us up at 10 for our 12:50 flight. Home around midnight tonight.

Down for the Count

Last6 meal with Sandra and Rourke. They are closing Jungle Java tomorrow. Guess they will miss Andy too much to stand another day in the trenches. More tears as we said another good-bye. But they want us to go sailing for a week on their new boat!

We also said good-bye to Byron this morning. Sarah Foster piled all his worldly goods onto her quad, then threw him across her lap for the long journey back to where he was saved. She is going to try to nurse him back to health.

Of course, my camera did not work so I went back for a quick photo this morning. Yanked Lesley off the surrogate, so I could hang her upside down. More tears.

Maybe it just feels that way.
Wednesday, I played bridge at Marlin Bill's. An hour or so after lunch, I felt sweaty and woosey. A few minutes later, I heaved my lunch over the railing, fearing the enclosure of the bathroom. I was able to stand the bathroom for the next expulsion. Finally Andy arrived in the Olson's car. He had Howie with him. The poor guys were met by a desparate me, who puked again in the lot as I tried to get into the car.
They were able to get me to the couch, where I lost it again. Andy consulted with Dr. Katia, who felt it was not a relapse, but a new ailment. He went to get the prescribed Pepto Bismol and electrolytes. I begged him not to force me to take the pink junk. But he and Howie coaxed me into a full dose, which I immediately rejected. Another trip to get chamomille tea and a dose of that before trying the pink junk again. Another call to the Dr. and a few more of this and thats and I finally fell asleep for the night.
During the evening, Andy read to me an e-mail from Sarah Foster with devastating news about Byron. He does have the dreaded disease, which he must have gotten by eating a calf or fetus or placenta. The Costa Rican vet recommends putting him down. Sarah is still hoping that the American vet who has a place here can think of something to save this wonderful soul. Byron seems very thrilled to be alive and has even regained some appetite, though he looks like a starving mongrol. Bobbi asked Tom if they could keep him, but he felt 3 dogs and 7 cats was enough. Pam and Ray are not sure they could handle the responsibility of trying to keep him alive. Sarah will take him. I asked to be present when he gets put down, but we are still in limbo.
We had a last supper with Pam, Ray and Kaya and another one with Rork and Sandra.
Tomorrow is my last day with the baby monkeys. I hope to get a few photos of them playing on my arms and climbing on my glasses. My damn camera is very tempermental, so I am praying. Also, we are taking Howie to a last lunch. What a sweet friend he has become.
Hard to say good-bye to so many new friends, some of whom won't be here next year.
We are excited to be going home to family and friends. We are sorry we are missing George's first rugby game tomorrow, but look forward to many more this spring. Grayson's 3rd birthday is coming up, as are George and Blake's graduations. I am graduating, too, from my obligations at the MFA. My trip coincides with Blake's celebration in DC.

Gone to the Dogs, and Other Animals

Lots of animal news.

Byron got fixed on Friday. Plus he had a little cosmetic surgery. The vet, un-asked, cut off his 2 front nipples! What an improvement! I almost asked if they could do it, but thought it was a little shallow of me. But they did look like half deflated ticks. Rather unattractive.

The reason we even noticed though was the drops of blood on his bed when we got home. Bobbi couldn't believe it and reconfirmed with the vet that that was what happened.

We were quite worried by the blood at first because the overall prognosis for Byron may be rather grim. The vet found an extra blob in his scrotum and thinks it may be some hideous, sexually transmitted disease, that humans can contract through blood. He hopes to have it tested, but Costa Ricans don't do the test for dogs, just cows and horses. So he talked about sending it to the US or getting a black market analysis here. If he does have this crud, it would explain his continued lack of appetite. If so, either he needs to get antibiotics for months and months or be put down.

On the hopeful front, he did eat a half can of dog food last night and another protion today. Even more exciting, Missy brought him stew made from all her leftovers from the past couple of months. She and Jim are leaving tomorrow and she wanted to coax Byron to eat. He did, I think. I plopped the gallon sized zip lock bag down for him and he dug in. When we returned from brunch at Bobbi and Tom's, half the bag was gone and Byron looks quite stuffed. We enjoyed a romp or two to the beach today and he even chased a stick.

While caring for Byron, I noticed a girl in the back yard trying to get my attention. She said she could hear a kitty crying in the bushes. I ran to get vichyssoise to coax it out, but she had grabbed it by the time I returned. She is thrilled, having wished for a cat for a long time. She's not sure how her boyfriend is going to deal with the addition. We introduced ourselves and I learned she is staying next door until June. Her mother owns a dress shop her and is helping for 6 months. I guessed it had to be the one at the Harmony Hotel. She was impressed that I could tell, but just looking at her elegant shift and lovely jewelry made it pretty apparent. It also explains the wonderful, flowing white walls recently installed on their porch, which we can see from our place.

Finally back on a pretty regular schedule with Elvira and Lesley, who are always happy to see me. They are getting more and more playful, hanging up side down from their tails, from my raised arm while playing with each other. Two more injured monkeys came in last week. The one I have seen was just a lump last Saturday. By Friday, he had been stiched up from tip to toes. Only the gaping wound around his neck and jaw line remain open. Big holes and lots of yucky puss. But he is very alert and eating and drinking voraciously. He was nearly killed by another young male, but was interrupted by some people. His eyes are so trusting and sweet.

I haven't seen the other monkey who is at the release station, far from the babies' safe house.
Bobbi shared some animal tales with me that I have to pass on.
One night, her dogs woke her with loud barking. She threw on some nightie and ran out to see what was happening. They had cornered something, so she beat them off the poor critter, to find a little porcupine. Hoping to save its life, she wanted to bring into a safe place. So she ripped off her nightie and carried him to safety. One of her friends thought she was trapesing through the jungle, naked, so she wouldn't get her clothes dirty. But no, she didn't want to be stuck full of needles. Unfortunately the poor little thing did not make it through the night.
Bobbi doesn't mind the smell of skunks, so didn't actively resist a trio moving into her house. But when they started chewing the seal around the oven, she decided it was time to throw them out. They had been living in the oven apparently and were using the broiler as a litter tray, which didn't even smell at all. She turned on the oven, hoping to get them to leave, to no avail. She then grabbed a broom and was sweeping them out. Of course, this was all in the middle of the night. And, of course, she was naked. And, the skunks were not interested in being swept away. So Bobbi had to wait for them to peek their noses out their entryway so she could get them. That took a while, so she lit up and waited. I love that image.
Bobbi and Missy were talking about what pisotes like to eat. They are the local raccoon type mammel that hunts nocturnally. They eat anything, it seems, except capers and lime jello. Bobbi found a mess in one of her clients house's. The pasotes had broken into their refrigerator.
Everything was gone but for the capers and jello, which was on the floor. Huge claw marks raked through the jello, directing the eye to the walls where they had flung the replulsive jiggly stuff.

I'm Back

Fought a tough battle with jungle fever, but I won. Helped by Bobbi, a doctor and some drugs, dear friends who plied me with soup and sauce (apple) and, of course, dear Andy.

Finally getting back to gaming, gardening and even eating.

The biggest addtiion to the garden is a new palm, the one with giant blue leaves. In a couple of years, it will be the facal point and unifying feature in the oasis on the other side of the pool from the lanai. I think it get at least as high as the brush behind it. Can hardly wait.

When I told my bridge partner that I had recoverd enough to dig the hole with an ax and adz and shovel, he replied that he never felt motivated enough to do such a thing. Credit where it is due: Andy did help me get the palm out of its huge pot and positioned in the hole, risking injuring his back.

While I was working back in the oasis I found a cement statue in the brush. He is the typical boy peeing. I dragged him closer to the lanai and stuck him amidst a vine, which will eventually cover all his missing parts.

The young man is to the left of the path to the pool.

This is how that garden looked on FEb. 14.

On the right of the path is the ruined urns feature. The next photo is how it looked on Valentine's day.

One of the treasures of that garden is the beginning of my bromiliad collection.Our dear friend Howie brought me a couple of treasures from his mountain retreat. I actually can't believe they are doing so well.

There are even a number of flourishing babies on the greener of the two types.