Anti-Venom

First, Deb and Dave, I'm comforted to know that the workmanship in Ireland is comparable to that in Costa Rica -- who says there are no universal standards? Maybe there's some international union we're unaware of . . . I simply hope you're able to staunch the seepage from Dave's ears soon; without a bank account, a husband's faculties become much more paramount.

Alright, so let me temper my previous ouburst with what is NOT irritating. For these things I have feelings of great gratitude . . .

1) Workers who show up at 6am and work happily and diligently all day long for a full week, and then have a gate, a bar, a barbecue pit, and a side-by-side outdoor toilet to show for it.

2) Our fantastic garden gnome Venicio who keeps our property looking like a lush tropical paradise rather than an overgrown forest cursed with an evil enchantment.

3) Electricians who come and in two days wire all the outdoor electricity, hook up our new sconces, install dimmers, and it all actually works without electrocuting us!

4) Stone masons who lay slate as if doing a beautiful mosaic – with the same care and diligence for function as aesthetic, meaning the rancho floor is actually pretty AND level!

5) Our housekeeper Mariana, without whom my windows would be opaque, my toilet would be mistaken for a public service, and my floors would probably only get swept and mopped once a month rather than once a week.


Lavapalooza

So we (or mostly the overly energetic Chris – bless you, sweetheart) has been dedicating a lot of time preparing for Lavapalooza, the little bluegrass fest we’re having next weekend. Some 30-some odd folks from the States will be descending upon Casa Mariposa, as well as 30-some odder folks from the local environs, to feast, cavort, and brew general merriment and mayhem, all to the harmonies of Grass It Up, the band Chris’ bro Jon is in from Colorado. http://grassitup.com/index.cfm It promises to be a good, freaky time for all. I’m sure there will be a lot of stories to share (and to keep to ourselves). People begin arriving Wednesday night and I know it's going to be a lot like a neurotic "Trading Spaces" episode around here until then. I'm Hildy and Chris is Tai -- poor thing. (Imagine whip-cracking sound.)

Transportation

What’s up with our car? Insert your own new and highly imaginative tale here and it will probably be true. Make up one for the quad as well.

How much do I not want to admit that we should just ride horses . . .?