Speaking of bugs

This noble creature was sitting on the wall outside the garage door yesterday morning, pretty much at Julia's eye level. Fortunately, she was focused on heading up the street to buy the milk for breakfast, and didn't notice.

Sunday's picnic

I don't have pictures of the ball playing because we were all busy, you know, playing ball. Eventually, though, we were permitted to sit down and various people took various pictures.

Playing Five Crowns, a rummy-type game I've had for years, and which the girls are now old enough to play (and play well), and which is also fun for grownups, hooray!


General cuteness


Figuring out the stopwatch on Robin's phone because wow do kids love grownups to time whatever particular activity they're doing. I believe in this case it was "balancing a ball on the back of your hand."


One of several visitors, which included two dogs (Seamus and Napoleon), this squirrel (Horatio) and a small bird (Scheherazade) that landed on Bob's shoulder before flitting off into the trees.

If there's one thing I just adore about Alvin and the Chipmunks...

...it's that one day my children will outgrow them and life will be sweet again.



We didn't, in point of fact, have a bad day. All four of us had a very nice time up at the Monte de la Cruz, playing allovertheplaceball (no sittingdownball for anybody this time) and actually building...I believe it was meant to be a "fire"...and making hot dogs and even s'mores.

And now not only am I bound by my promise from this morning, I'm also too tired to think of an excuse or counter-offer, so I'm about to sit down and watch the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie - for the second time in 48 hours.

I think this is the first time I've ever actually taken comfort in the idea of introducing my children's children to something from my children's childhood, simply because I was, umm, privileged to experience it as an adult.

Or perhaps I was unduly affected by the comic somebody showed me yesterday.



Nah.

Happy Birthday...

...to Ken (the very bravest of Sir Robins) and Christina, both of whom had the eminent good sense to be born.

And what better way to celebrate than with a pedantic argument about coconut migration? It's, umm, tropical!



Happy birthday, y'all. Hope you like the Python. (You have no idea how close you were to getting Norah Jones singing to Elmo about the letter Y.)

Now it's the bugs

The rain was a passing thing - it's still coming, but Margie was right; it's not quite the rainy season yet.

Most of our unwelcome visitors were one-time things in those first couple days of downpours. Maybe we'll get more when the rain comes back, but for now it's bugs. Mostly little (well, okay, medium-big) winged ants, with some abejones thrown in. Abejones are beetle-type bugs. They don't bite or anything, but they sound & maneuver about like helicopters, and their feet are pinchy if you pick them up. You haven't lived until you've heard an overtired seven year old shriek when one of those things suddenly shows up on her arm.

For an activity involving both a cat and a Q-tip, it really isn't so bad.

The cat seems to be settling in well; a little too well, if finding her way up to and out of Bob's kitchen window and onto a nearby roof is any indication.

She's probably closer to 20 than 15, seemingly completely deaf, sprouting tumors at one end and...infected...at the other, so we really didn't see the neighborhood exploration initiative coming quite so soon.

We took her to the vet yesterday, and he gave me a course of antibiotics for her as well as a cream for...the two ends.

She doesn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort, and she takes her treatment with little more than a "not again" roll of the eyes. She's a willing (if inexpert) visitor to the litter box, and even seems fine with it being filled with sawdust (free) instead of super-expensive-fancy litter, which is good of her, considering that she does need the super-expensive-fancy food.

Once the infection clears up, she'll be a lot more pleasant to be around, but she already seems pretty well at ease, her own self.

Pre-caffeinated thought for the day

"Jack and Jill went..."

Wait.

Who the hell drills a well at the top of a hill?

Complicated nostalgia

So, who doesn't look back fondly on the TV shows of their youth, right? My kids are gonna have it rough.

You'll be hearing more about this, I'm sure.

I find myself in sudden (re)possession of a cat that may or may not have a broken ass*. You'd think I'd have more to say on the topic, and I'm sure I will, but for now, that's about the size of it.

Well, except for this:

She took the move with aplomb, and as far as I know hasn't left her box since we put her in it. I hope--first for the cat's sake and then for Bob's (What? He likes cats. And his laundry room is so big and available...)--that this turns out to have been the right thing to do.


* Broken as in prolapsed or otherwise not fully potty functional. Not broken like bones. She's been seen by a vet and all, but I haven't actually looked for myself yet, to see what's going on back there.

If I were the type to feel old this'd probably do it.

It was actually a very Enjoyable Event. It was a potluck/musical gathering, centering on several members of Harmony Roads ("The oldest Gringo band in Costa Rica") and whoever else brought or picked up an instrument to join them.

I only actually knew two people there, in addition to having met the hosts at some point along the line, but not so's any of us particularly knew each other. But I knew people in common with everyone, and we were welcomed kindly.

The two I knew were both translators from my second Costa Rican job. I was standing next to one of them for a few minutes before she and the person she was talking to turned to introduce themselves, and once we'd each said our names, we double-took each other and realized who we both were, and proceeded to hug and catch up.

We met when I was hired to cover her maternity leave at the news agency, where we both worked as translators for a time. She had her son with her at the party. He was wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and a leather jacket, and taking his turn on the drums whenever the band member would let him have a turn. Doing a fine job of it too, especially on the Hendrix.