Farm of the Secret Garden or Secret Garden Farm
Well, I've moved. It took my cabbie brothers one cab and a small pick up truck to get me from the cabinas to my new digs in town. Carlos, the new papa, took the animals with me and a
packed trunk and we led the procession. Taxi Al followed behind with my 5 bags, the dog crates and assorted items that had been procured in my short time on the river. It had been raining
crocodiles and alligators for days and days so Taxi Al (so called because his name is Alex ) stretched out a long, wide, heavy black plastic tarp over the truck bed. The ride over the bumpy section was slow and painful. Once on the main road, we were able to pick up some speed.
That was until Carlos looked back and couldn't see Taxi Al. He wasn't anywhere. So Carlos did the brotherly thing and pulled over to wait. When we saw the pickup 10 minutes later it was without it's tarp. These boys down here just thought the tarp would stay on by osmosis!
I never said a word except to praise Carlos for waiting for his brother. Pura Vida!
I've traded two roaring rivers for a small, quiet stream. In place of the cows and horses
I have a local school (and you all know how often our children could be called animals) in the front yard and frogs by the pool. Yes, I have gone suburban. This area, called
"Hacienda Pacifica" is a circle of five, two story buildings, surrounding a lovely Picasso shaped pool. It sure felt good today after my walk into town and back. Very relaxing! I've planned a small Bar-B-Q for Saturday with my amigos from the country. I can't think of a finer way to thank them then to celebrate with food. There is a small cabana with a good gas grill that's out next to the pool. If I have the fiesta in the late afternoon the little boys can go swimming.
I won't be putting Efrion in charge of the grill. I went to use my oven last week when I was cooking for Rita and her family only to open the gas oven door to a fireball explosion. Lucy flew out of the house and Efrion flew in. Apparently when he went to hook it up he did it wrong.
Mon Dieu! We ended up in a cabin up the hill, cooking the coconut chicken in the electric oven. It was sweet. And we managed to have a conversation in Spanish as he has learned to slow down his speech for me and I have gotten more proficient.
I hope it all works out. The Ticos are notorious for being "no shows".
I'm sad to be leaving the neighborhood and the most giving and caring people I've run across in a long time. Efrion was waiting every night on my porch with the lights on and the dogs at his side when I came home from school. Rita spent my last week of school bringing home cooked empanadas and pico gallo over so I wouldn't have to cook. She has reminded me that the things that matter in life are gathering around the table for a meal together and helping friends out in a time of need. How lovely!
Rita's house
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