Yeah. It’s always the season for some type of bug. The rains have come and driven all the ants inside in more of a frenzy than usual, and those little buggers have figured out how to penetrate the peanut butter jar (and you simply do not want to mess with my creamy Jif), and how to reach the hidden cat food in the closet. …And the flies. Jeez loueez! No matter how many times we bleach the countertops, do the dishes, sweep and mop the floors, or empty the compost, we still spend countless moments throughout the day waving and slapping the fly swatter around as if we’re engaged in some sort of sick modern dance or practicing for some sort of new humiliating sport that integrates the movements of tennis and fencing. But there are beautiful patches of sunlight, and they usually chase away all of the irritations. Except . . .

You Never Love the Neighbor’s Dog as Much as Your Own

We have a new neighbor. Actually, he’s an old neighbor who moved out and recently returned to take up residence once again. He lives down the hill at the old pig farm. As far as I can tell he has no pigs, only cows. And a dog. A loud, bellowing, yapping dog. The first morning we awoke pre-dawn to his howling, we thought there was as dog in the road either hurt or otherwise distressed. We ventured outside in the rain to investigate, but visual and auditory examinations along the road and property revealed that he lived down yonder and was simply very unhappy. I’m sure he’s tied up. His noise and worry has persisted for several days with little reprieve. Bouts of rest and silence come throughout the day, but are infringed upon at regular intervals by refreshed and relentless minutes of barking. I am torn between compassion and nonconfrontation. I feel horrible for this dog and want to help it, yet do not want to challenge or offend my macho Tico neighbor by suggesting he do something to help his dog and make it stop barking. Worse, I would hate for him to respond with further oppression or violence toward his dog. Yet, it is impossible for me to enjoy the day, to sit quietly and meditate or enjoy a relaxing cup of Mother to Be tea with this dog yelping at the air and nipping my consciousness.

Chris and I talked about asking Vinicio to go down and talk to the dog’s owner (an easy but unfair way for us both to deflect responsibility and discomfort), and I’ve tried to convince Chris to go talk to the guy himself (easy deflection for me), but ultimately I know the right thing to do is go down as a family – using Wilder’s cute smile, my pregnant guile, and Chris’ straightforward style – to charm and disarm this gentleman into letting his dog free, putting it in the house, finding it a friend, giving it away. . . . Yep, sounded good, but I chickened out and Chris rode the ATV down the hill with Wilder today. . .The dog’s owner wasn’t home, but his co-worker was. He said the dog is mad that he’s tied up (duh) and that he goes crazy every time they milk the cows. (They must be milking the cows every few hours around the clock.) The guy asked Chris if we wanted to get some sleep. Uh, yes. So the message will likely be passed on to our neighbor and “we” will go down and follow up with him soon.

If it were not for guests all houses would be graves. – Kahlil Gibran

Barrio bothers aside, we just had a rockin’ couple of weeks down here with some of our most time-honored friends – Mark, Lisa, Luke (4) and Zach (almost 2) voyaged from Petaluma, CA; Eric, Becca and Maddie (almost 2) traveled on down from Marin County; and Stephanie and Kevin trail blazed through here from Utah (or Utard as Steph calls it – ha ha ha! I love it). We had a full and wonderfully fun and crazy casa: M-L-L-Z, stayed in-house with us for a week, S-K also camped out on the floor with us for several days during that time, and E-B-M hung out for the feasts and festivities when not taking refuge at Hotel Lago down the road. We took a few local trips, one particularly fun one to Baldi Hot Springs, but mostly just hung out at the casa. Wilder had a blast hanging out with his buddies and sharing his surroundings (if not his toys!), and they all spent countless hours swinging in the hammock chairs, adventuring around in their boots, visiting the goats, running from the dogs, eating lots of pineapple and mango, and playing ball in the front yard. Luke even accompanied Wilder to school one day – La Niña said that despite a couple of tears, Luke did great and the whole school was happy to have “Luc Antonio” visit and play and do artwork with them. (See pix link at right.)

At the end of the first week’s visit, Steph and Kev concluded their stay and headed for the Monteverde cloud forest (surely as happy to have seen us as we were them, but also surely happy to have finally escaped toddler madness!). That weekend, the rest of us ladies got to spend a lovely Mother’s Day alone out to lunch getting pampered at a local spa – pedicures and facials and rub downs, oh my! Aaaaah. I must send props out to the pops for hanging with the kiddos for the morning and afternoon so the mommies could enjoy time away from the very critters who make it possible for us to celebrate Mother’s Day to begin with! ;) It was a fantastic day until I got the flu later that night. Doh! Needless to say, the Bell-Bross family had to take a two-day breather for my recovery before leaving Casa Mariposa and meeting the other two traveling families for some fun in the sun at the beach the following week. Being there was therapeutic for all – we spent the majority of our time poolside, digging holes and collecting shells at the beach, and sampling different culinary delights at several local restaurants – our favorite of which was the Mexican restaurant that screened classic, laughter-inducing videos of everything from the Stones to Elton John to Wham!

It was hard to say goodbye to our friends when their two-week adventure was up – we had missed them so much and had gotten quite used to having them here, so are hoping that our attempts to lure them down to Costa Rica are at least engraved in their minds if not in their current realities. ;)