Coffee? Why yes, I believe I will.

So, Costa Rica is a really small country, and the Gringo community is smaller still. It's not exactly that everybody knows everybody, but after a while you find yourself part of a network. I don't immediately recognize any given foreigner I run into, but if they've been here a while, chances are we know some of the same people. To the point that when I asked my neighbor (who is not a foreigner, but who I met through my first job here, nearly 20 years ago, and who now lives four houses down from me and our kids are in the same class) for contacts, she went to a friend of hers who turned out to be a friend of mine, (recently returned to that same job from 20 years ago), who also used to rent a house to people at my current job and knows the guys from my other job from only 15 years ago, and she suggested I contact someone whose name I've heard mentioned plenty of times over the years, but whom I'd never met myself. And that same person has potluck get-togethers every so often, and I had already found myself semi-invited to that, and it's tonight.

So that should be enjoyable and probably get me back in touch with some folks from long-ish ago, and meet a few new ones and introduce Bob to another bit of the mythical Gringo Community.

It's not quite that small a country, though. The Enjoyable Event is on the whole other side of the Central Valley (ie, an hour away) and doesn't start till 8:00. Don't wait up.

In which being nice (in a way that's already beneficial to me) reaps an unexpected reward.

So, Costa Rica has gone through several iterations of coins in the years I've lived here. (And when I first arrived there was at least one additional set from years back that would still pop up occasionally in a handfull of change, but don't anymore.)

The ones that were in general circulation when I arrived, and all but the smallest of which are still in use today, are really big for small change. The 20-colon (pronounced cologne) coins especially are just needlessly big and bulky. Granted, back when I arrived, 20 colones was a bit more than 20 cents - an amount you'd sometimes spend and/or take seriously. Now, it's about 3.5 cents, but those big ol' coins are still floating around.

Those original coins were silver colored. Then, a few years ago, they put out a new line of bronze-looking coins. Their sizes are more reasonable; the 100-colon coin is maybe a little bigger than a US quarter, and certainly smaller than the old 20s. The 500-colon coin is bigger than the big 20s, but it's worth nearly a dollar even today, so I'm okay with that.

Then a while after that they put out some little aluminum coins for the smaller denominations. It's really hard to take those ones seriously; they're so light and thin that they don't seem like they should actually be worth anything. (Probably because they, as bits of metal, aren't, themselves, particularly worth anything.)

ANYway.

I'm not actually here to tell you about Costa Rica's coinage.

Except insofar as to say that you really need to spend those buggers down because they pile up and they are heavy and take up a lot of space. If you're like me and keep your change in a pants pocket...well, you don't want to have too much of it, especially if you're not a belt-wearing girl.

My solution is to keep it in the ashtray of my car, and give it to people who ask for change at the intersections. I even have a little compartment in my dash that...well, I don't know if it's made specifically for coins, but it sure is ideal for them. So I keep the bulk of the change in the ashtray, and then pull out one 100-colon coin (worth about 17 cents) along with one or two of the smaller ones that I really just want to get rid of, and hand that out the window when someone comes along asking for money.

And they do. Some people just ask for handouts on their own, but there are also a lot of drug and alcohol rehab centers that don't receive government funding, and one of the ways they bring money in and give their clients something productive to do, is to have them work the intersections, especially at rush hour. You can tell them by their yellow t-shirts and sealed cans or boxes. They also solicit donations on buses, but I don't ride the bus that much anymore, so that's not part of my story and you can disregard this entire sentence if you are so inclined.

ANYway.

There's one particular rehab guy who works one particular intersection in the town of San Antonio de Belen, who is just always so happy to see people, and friendly and smiling and God-blessing people and just generally being a bright spot in the day. Sometimes he's not there, and sometimes I have a green light and don't have to stop, or stop too far back for him to work his way to my car, but on the days we coincide, I give him the coins and he wishes me a blessed day, and then I drive the rest of the way to work.

So today he was there, and I gave him my 25 cents or so, and he asked if I like to watch videos. Actually, he asked if I like watching films or music. I thought he was promoting some kind of upcoming event - maybe a benefit - or possibly selling tickets to something, but I was wrong. He says that he has a policy (and I'm thinking it's just him, not his organization) of giving something back to people who give regularly. He says people who do nice things should get incentives, and he's going to find me a nice comedy for me (that being the type of video I told him I like).

Now, as we've discussed before, Costa Rica's intellectual property scene is not exactly pure as the driven snow, so I'm sure he knows someone who makes copies of things, and it'll only cost him the price of a blank DVD or so. And of course that's not really the way I tend to roll when it comes to acquiring videos, but then sometimes these things just sort of seek you out.

What's the name of that puppet again?

I like Ellen DeGeneres as much as the next blogger, and I actually think the photo on this post at Shakesville is a very nice one.

But sometimes a nice picture of someone can also remind you of something else, and that one makes me think of...what's that puppet's name???

The crotchety old woman with the hard-drinker's nose, who lived near King Friday's castle in the Neighborhood of Make Believe, on Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. The one with the Boomerang Toomerang Soomerang.

First I thought I was thinking of the queen, but that's Queen Sarah. Then I went to Lady Aberlin, but she's one of the human actors. Henrietta Pussycat, no. And the rest of the ones I remember are boys: King Friday, Daniel Tiger, X the Owl.

What the heck was that puppet called?

* Breaks down & looks it up *

The outspoken, cranky schemer who took over the Museum-Go-Round after the Froggs moved; often known to say "Okay, toots." She is generally the antagonist when a storyline calls for one, but her neighbors are quick to forgive her because they understand her so well. It is discerned during the series that she has low self-esteem and is extremely self-conscious, and because of this, her neighbors are extremely patient with her until she finally learns her lesson. Despite her own faults, she consistently shows King Friday when he is wrong about something and frequently goes to extremes (such as physically moving her museum or modifying a comet) to do so.

Ah, yes. That was her.

The kind of weather where they can't NOT play "Who'll Stop the Rain" on the radio

So, Margie (of Margie in the Morning - oh, did I mention Bob fixed my car radio? Or rather, discovered in what specific way it was not, in fact, broken?) says that the weather service says that this is not, in fact, the rainy season. I'm not sure by what measure it's not, but if that's the case, I wish someone would get the memo out to the local wildlife. We've had representatives of at least four different species (two insect, one reptile and one mammal) scoping out the prospective shelter of our home in the past week, and three of them are most unwelcome.

The gecko can stay.

Guess so

She climbed up on her own initiative, and sat there quite happily for probably 20 minutes or so as we watched The American President last night. She didn't even complain when I stepped away from her side to get the camera.

A young bird's fancy

So, I gather it rained in Heredia while I was at work today. And when it rains - especially for the first time (or the first time that really counts) in about five months, a young bird's fancy turns to thoughts of SCREECHING HER FOOL HEAD OFF.

Or so I'm told, and it rings true to me, based on past experience.

It also seems to have awakened other sorts of fancies in our young Loren, as that was one cuddly bird when I came home this afternoon. I was sung to, I was danced at, I was rubbed upon...and I believe I may narrowly have escaped being puked on (a term of endearment in psittacine society, but one which I have not been offended to forgo thus far).

It was a time such as this that Robin was first able to pet The Bird, back when she (The Bird) thought she loved only me, so with any luck this year she'll expand her affections to include the bearded man who controls the almond supply.

Ooops

Julia likes to walk up to the corner and get little individual cereal packets for breakfast. In theory, I let her do it once a week, but it might work out to a little more often than that, especially when there's a friend over.

This morning, as she and her friend from down the street (Robin is at her cousin's house) were setting off for the corner they paused, looked at each other, and started running. I thought they were just having a race or something until, with a sinking feeling, I realized: Oh, crap. It's raining.

Now, if you're not from here you may not realize, but rain is very, very dangerous. You must not let it touch you! Lest you become ill! I can only imagine how the swine business might compound the hazards.

If it were just my own child, I wouldn't particularly worry. My neighbors seem okay with my foreign quirks; they cheerfully send their kids over to play and accept mine.

But I had sent one of their own! Out! In the rain! Without so much as a sweater!

I hustled back upstairs and grabbed two denim shirts for them to put over their heads, and met them halfway up the block on their way back. I only hope the symbolism of the gesture is enough to counteract the deadly effects of a light drizzle on a poor, innocent child.

Innocence of youth?

So, I have these two children here--they are both siblings, but not of each other--and they're playing "Sibling Rivalry".

I mean, really. Do I spend my holiday weekend playing "Inventory"? I do not.

Listen. Hear that?

That's the sound of several generations of grandmothers--including, if I'm not mistaken, my children's and my own--chuckling gently when, in looking for a recipe for microwave-baked apples, I saw a variation called "baked apple slices" and my running internal commentary said, "Oh! Peeling and slicing five apples would be easier than coring them."

Yeah, I must be sleep deprived or something. More straightforward than "core apples, leaving bottom intact," certainly; especially with the small specimens I had at hand. But easier? Umm, no.

It was good though. Even if it did take 45 minutes to make and about 45 seconds to eat.

See, that's the thing about expectations

Sorry 'bout the "Expect photos!" - Seems my camera had different expectations, most of which involved me inserting a memory card into the expansion slot, upon which to save the photos. I think the camera has a bit of internal memory, but the reason the card was out of the slot in the first place was because the camera/computer cable doesn't work anymore, so the only way to get the pics off the camera is by putting the card in the card reader. So, not so much with the saving pics to the internal memory.

ANYway.

We did go, and had a nice time. The place was pretty crowded, but Bob stayed home sick, so we weren't trying to do the whole barbecue thing, but just made sandwiches. That means we didn't need to worry about getting one of the picnic shelters, but just hiked around the trails for the first hour, then settled down on the grass near the playground.

We ran into a friend of Julia's, and I had picked up a ball and a plastic badminton set at the store on the way up. Robin and I played sittingdownball and Julia and Missi played allovertheplaceball and after a few hours we came home, the end.