Golden Rule No. 3

When guests check in and ask if they have any issues if they can call you, be somewhat selective. Or bring Oreos.

The other night, two folks showed up and then walked over to the local restaurant. The owners speak no English; the customers spoke no Spanish.

Long story short, we were on the phone for 5-plus minutes helping the guests order dessert.

Confirmed. . .

The critter in yesterday's post was a fer-de-lance. It's one of the more poisonous snakes down this way and it was about 3-feet long, based on Rolando's calculations from the pictures.

According to Rolando, when they are curled up like that, the snakes are waiting for prey to come by, so they can spring quickly and get it.

So, if a snake is all stretched out, it's less likely that it's going to be looking for a meal. If it's coiled, then take more caution.

Again, this snake sighting was along the trail to the waterfall and river, not on the grounds of the hotel, so no worries for those (like me) that are scared spitless of the slithery buggers.

Costa Rican 2-step and a beer. . .

Two nights ago, the husband of a family of four came down to our office to show us a picture.

He and his family (wife and two kids) were walking back up from the waterfall, when they spotted a critter curled up. He was curious as to what it may have been and his wife was back in the tree house with the kids.

She had nearly stepped on it while walking back and he had the presence of mind to take a picture of it. We are no experts, but it sure did look like a fer-de-lance (like the one pictured above; which is not the actual picture--the one they saw and took a photo of was probably about 2- to 3-feet long).

Anyway, the husband came down to show us the picture and to pick up a beer for his wife, who needed something to calm her nerves.

Life would be easier. . .

If we had one of these lifts here at the hotel. Alas, that will never happen. We do, however, have a new extension ladder that will go up to 32 feet. Being that we're surrounded by trees, this is a handy contraption to have around.

Miguel is the man when it comes to getting up high and cutting down the branches that are hanging over power lines or have started to sag dangerously. Three days ago was no exception as he and Chiza headed up the driveway with the new ladder and the smaller 20-foot extension.

I wandered up as well, and by the time I made my way up there, the 32-foot ladder was already extended and roped to the tree; about 15 feet off of the ground. That's where the smaller ladder came in, as it was extended out and also lashed to the tree. Because of the angle of the tree, both ladders were completely vertical, no slope at all. Miguel, wearing a harness, clambered up and hopped up in the crook of a tree with a branch that was hanging precariously over the driveway by the front gate.

He lassoed a smaller branch further out and we secured the rope around it to pull it down after Miguel had finished chopping on the branch with a hatchet. No way was anyone going to haul the chainsaw up that high.

Miguel hacked and chopped at the limb (about 18 inches or so around) and then came down and we pulled on the branch to get it to snap. No luck. Up went Miguel again for some more chopping. Repeat pulling; repeat lack of luck. The third time, Miguel took another rope to toss out further so we could get more leverage while pulling. He was still whacking away with the hatchet. He quit when he heard the branch start to crack and scampered back down.

Finally, success. The branch (about 25 feet long) came crashing down on the driveway with no extra damage to anything.

Protein alert. . .

The other afternoon, one of the families came down to ask directions
before heading out to one of the hot springs.

I was giving them directions with my mouth wide open (as usual) and a bug flew in. Usually, a quick hack and not a big deal. This time, however, it led to a load of retching, a purple face (which delighted the kids) and a loss of speech capability.

I could actually feel the bug creeping along in my sinuses. A very surreal feeling to have that tickling sensation moving up and down the back of my throat and sinus cavity.

Luckily, Lucy took over with the directions and after a bottle and a half of water, whatever had flown in was washed down. No idea of how big it was or what it was, just that it went in and never came out.

Birdie 911

The other day, a small bird nearly brained itself when it flew into the window here at our house.

Luckily, it didn't snap its neck, but it was stunned pretty badly. Patricia and Seidy took turns blowing into its mouth and into its rear (yes, that's what you do, stop sniggering) and then we gave it some water. Patricia was rewarded with a nice stain on her shirt.

After the bird seemed like it was on the mend, Lucy made a nest out of a small basket and some towels and we put it on top of the barbecue--out of reach of Mini-B and the rest of the dogs.

We would walk by and check on it from time to time and finally around 6 p.m., we pulled back the towel and the bird was gone. It had recovered enough to make its way to parts unknown.

Golden Rule No. 2. . .

When people have been traveling for 20-plus hours to get to your hotel and then decide to ask if there are bathroom facilities inside the tree houses, do not tell them that it's down the path, 1.5 miles and to the left (or right).

Humor, at that point, is not appreciated.

It's been said before. . .

But bears repeating, as it seems that we have to do so every other day. There are NO hot water tanks in a lot of places in Costa Rica, including here at the hotel.

The water is heated by electricity as it goes through the shower head (some wags call them suicide showers). This is an efficient way of getting warm-water showers and ensuring that you will not run out of warm water, either. It's not going to be scalding hot (it is around 85 to 90 degrees here year-round with high humidity, so who wants a hot shower?) but it does give you a nice warm shower.

The concept is simple: The more water pressure, the cooler the shower; the less pressure, the warmer the shower.

Still, some folks can't quite grasp the concept and will say that their shower is broken. Nine times out of 10 after we walk up to the tree house and turn on the shower, we find that everything is working properly and the folks are then attuned to the proper way to get the warm water out.

Of course, we remind people at checkin about this little nugget and it's also in the information book that is in every tree house.

Love in the Wild?

Has anyone seen this show? Apparently, it's a dating/reality series set here in Costa Rica.

Some guests have referenced it and we haven't seen it as (I'm going with thankfully) it's not on the tube down this way. They may have shot some of it near us, or perhaps all of it.

Not sure of the premise or the rules or the rationale.

Anyone have any thoughts or input? It's on NBC.

Not so light on his feet. . .

The other day, when we were clearing some dead limbs and trees to make way for the new power lines (honestly, at this rate, they may all grow back, but at least we're making progress on our end) we had somewhat of a close call.

Chiza, or as we no call him--Leadfoot--was holding the ladder while Miguel was about 25 feet up, hanging from one branch with one foot on the top rung of the ladder, cutting down a branch that was hanging over the lines. Miguel was using a machete and I had the rope that was looped around the branch to pull it down.

Considering that my Spanish isn't anywhere near to being fluent, I often get stuck with the rope detail, as I know when it's time to pull one way or the other and when to give slack.

Chiza, who doesn't speak a lick of English, was nattering on (mainly to himself) while Miguel was giving me directions in Spanish on which way to pull. Chiza, tuned out still and apparently thinking there wasn't anything going on of importance, was bopping along to his own head music.

Then the branch came down. Miguel and I both yelled at the same time for Chiza to run and Chiza finally popped his head up. I ran with the rope and Miguel was yelling for Chiza to run the opposite way.

It was a comedy of errors as Chiza was truly a critter caught in the headlights. He danced and hopped around from one foot to the other before finally figuring out which way to go. Too late, nearly. The branch came down and grazed his shoulder (no blood, breaks or foul) and Chiza was convinced that we were trying to kill him. He asked for hazard pay and I told him that we would be happy to pay the premium--to Miguel for having to put up with Chiza.

Getting closer. . .

To some electric news. Not electrifying as that would imply something is imminent.

We have had the initial electrical use study; we have had the topographical study (need to wait for the supervisor to OK the topographical study) and then there will be a group meeting to approve the electrical use and the topographical study. . . and then we should be getting our new transformer.

After we do the name-change to have the transformer and power lines put into the hotel's name.

Definitely a lot of bureaucracy involved in getting new lines and transformers here. The biggest hurdle was that the original lines and transformers are in another person's name. This is a problem here, as since we can't track down this person, there is a fee paid (an average of the past six months of electrical use) to change the name on the account to the current owners of Tree Houses.

Then there were the other studies. We have been told that once all the studies are complete, it will be a short period of time before we have new lines and a new transformer. However, we were also told that a name change, topographical study and other issues weren't necessary, so we're not holding our collective breath here.

Hence the cutting of some trees and limbs so the power company can put in the new posts and lines and transformer.

While we are a bit closer than the last time we posted, the over/under on getting everything done is around September 1, and most of us are taking the over; being the cynical lot that we are.

The Guarumo or trumpet tree

The Guarumo (also known as the Trumpet Tree)
is a valuable tree down this way. It is where the sloths like to hang out as the leaves have a narcotic effect on the slow critters.

The limbs are hollow and can be snapped off fairly easily, which was fortunate for us when we had to take down some branches the other day as they were dangling over our power lines.

Unfortunately, while the leaves are an attraction for the sloths, the sap is a major feedbag for fire ants as well. So, when we were clearing the branches, we were getting chewed pretty good by the little buggers; not the most pleasant of tasks.

I did not know, or notice, that this tree is also prevalent in Hawaii, as well. There are no sloths in the Islands, but I'm sure there would be ants if someone wanted to snap off a branch.

They are not the easiest of trees to grow, either. According to our neighbor, an agronomy professor at the university here, the seeds need to pass through a bird's digestive system in order to germinate properly and grow, which makes for a long process and not an easy one.

Golden Rule No. 1

Do not, under any circumstances and despite the best of intentions, fold white hotel towels after eating barbecue potato chips.

Just take my word for it; not a good idea at all.

Saving the day. . .

That was Lucy's role the other day when a couple of guests walked down to the waterfall and couldn't quite make it back due to fatigue and injuries.

Of course, we always tell the folks that it's about 2 miles down and 2 miles back to get to the waterfall. Some people pay attention, others don't. This was the first fatigue-related trip we had made down there. About six months ago, we had to head down when someone twisted an ankle heading back up.

This time it was just one lady who had a bad back and got tuckered out heading back to her tree house. Luckily, there are covered benches along the way, and she took refuge there while her brother-in-law hiked back to the office to ask for a ride.

I lost the coin flip, so Lucy got to take the ATV back down there to get the lady and her sister. It's a great walk/ride, and Lucy had them back in about 20 minutes.

The only anxious moments of the episode came when Bejuca darted off into the jungle chasing after something. Lucy dropped the guests off at their tree house and came back searching for Bejuca--who had returned to the house a few minutes earlier and slurped up most of her water dish--and a few doggie treats.

Always something new. . .

The other day while walking around the rancho after breakfast, we noticed some unpleasant piles on the walkway down to the rancho.

Not being experts in wildlife scat, we figured it was the monkeys having some fun, though we hadn't seen or heard them in a day or so.

We went to get the super-scooper (basically a big dustpan on a pole) to clean it up and were talking with Miguel and joking about the monkeys. Miguel cast a practiced eye on the piles (of course, the picture here isn't the real thing, we don't carry our camera everywhere) and pronounced it iguana droppings.

Naturally, we thought that Miguel was pulling one over on us, as it was a pretty big mess. Sure enough, though, after a few minutes of searching in the trees, we saw an iguana--relatively small at about 3 feet long--hanging out in the branches above.

Adios

The other day, sold off our car, a 1998 Chevy Tracker. A small, sporty little 4x4 that we have had for about 1.5 years.

It had 106,000 miles on it and the gas tank was getting corroded which was wreaking havoc on the fuel injection. Hence, it was time to let the Tracker go.

We put up signs in the windows with our phone number, and the first time Lucy took it to the grocery store, we got a call from a fellow who had seen it. He came by the next day to check it out, kick the tires and lift the hood. The next day he came by with the cash and after the lawyer signed off on everything (mandatory here in Costa Rica) the Tracker was his and we were sans vehicle.

The fellow never even drove the Tracker (or asked to) until he had bought it. And, yes, we did tell him about the gas tank.

It was a nice car, but the roads and everything take a toll on vehicles here.

Just for grins and giggles, check out what the Blue Book value is on a 1998 Tracker (convertible, manual, no spoiler--sorry Clyde) and then guess what it was sold for. Use an Oahu or Hawaii zip code to get the highest price, as cars are typically a bit more expensive there. We didn't make a profit, but were still happy with what we bought and sold the Tracker for.

Next car? If I ever come across a 1960s VW bus, we'll be all over it. Or at least I will if Lucy will give me some money.

Timberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

There are a lot of trees here at Tree Houses (not a shock, that, eh?). And
occasionally they die and fall over. Again, not a shock.

There has been a stand of three that have been a concern for a while, as two of them are around 100-plus feet high and are dead up high. It's a concern because when the wind picks up and the rains are coming down, they could fall over and block the driveway or take out the power lines.

Yesterday, Miguel and I decided it was time to do something about them as the middle one had toppled over during the weekend. It was only about 30 to 40 feet high and was the sickly middle child of the three-tree stand.

It was a nice, sunny, hot day when we started. Not a cloud in sight. It took a while to get a rope tossed over the upper branches to direct the fall of the tree. Then came the chainsaw and the cutting and pulling. Unfortunately, the rain also came along with thunder and lightning.

By this time, we were committed as the trees had notches cut in them and we couldn't leave them like that, particularly in a storm.

Three hours later, in a torrential storm, everything was finally on the ground. There were some cheek-clinching moments, particularly when we ended up on the ground and had to roll out of the way of a falling tree and when some very large branches were hung up in other trees, but everything is now on the ground and away from the power lines and driveway.

Now is the fun part. Cleaning up the mess, which will probably take a few days. Bummer it's too warm here year-round for a wood stove, as we would have enough to get us through a long cold spell.

Where's mom?

The other day, while I was (thankfully) down at the house checking out some
guests, Darling and Patricia found a baby coral snake under the sink in the rancho.

They took it outside and let it go; though when I came back (and they both know my lack of courage with the critters) they told me that I needed to look for the mother, as it was sure to be around.

No mama snake was found (at least that they told me).

Interesting tidbit that we have been told about coral snakes: They don't bite the feet or ankles; they go for the wrists and fingers, as they have small mouths.

So, no worries walking around in the jungle. Just don't pick the buggers up.

Drilling and filling?

It was time for our semi-annual teeth cleaning the other day, and Lucy and I headed down the road to the dentist's office. She's a great dentist, cleans the teeth nicely and only scolds me about chewing tobacco occasionally.

However, we have noticed a pattern. We both never have a cavity. It alternates. One time it's me, the other time it's Lucy. We both never have one; we both never do not have one.

What was the verdict this time?

Lucy with the filling! Myself with a mild scolding and a reminder to floss. Next visit in December.

By the way, cleaning, polishing and a checkup? $40.00 each.

Shocking news. . .

Well, not really, if you know how things work here in Costa Rica. We're still on the hunt for a transformer to replace the older ones that we have.

The problem is, we get a different story whenever we talk to someone different. Sometimes it's an electrical study, then there's a topographical study, then there's the installation. Everyone seems to have an opinion (even the folks who work for the power company) and that rarely holds up more than 24 hours.

Perhaps we need a larger transformer; perhaps we don't. Perhaps we need new lines; perhaps we don't. Perhaps we're OK as we are; perhaps we aren't.

It seems that the power company will take care of certain things, but has a policy that its employees can make money on the side by coming out to do studies. It is truly a dizzying process that has Lucy at wit's end on some days as no one will give a straight answer.

The latest: We're on the fast track for new lines and a transformer (if they are necessary) and are just awaiting the study(ies) to come through.

Snake boots?

Of course, we're going to tell you what snake boots are. Probably
we're the only ones that call them that, but that's what they are really good for:
Stopping a snake from chomping down on the ankle or lower leg.

Coral snakes aren't much of a worry, as they prefer to bite on the arms and neck;
a Fer-de-Lance, however, or any of the others in the viper family aren't as picky,
hence the need for the boots.

Basically, they are black rubber boots that can come up to just below the knee (depending on how tall you are) and are great for mucking around in the mud. Most folks that work outside here wear them all the time.

Your feet and socks will get sweaty and hot and if a rock gets inside, it can be pretty painful. However, the protection offered by these rubberized slippers are well worth the discomfort of soggy toes.

Cleaning the jungle. . .

That's what we call it here. The others call it crazy folks moving leaves and branches around in the jungle.

After Miguel and Chiza found the sloth down (yes, there is a follow-up) they went back to pulling more of the leaves and fallen branches further back into the jungle. This is done because we have the leaf-blower that makes everything so much easier here, but if we forget to drag stuff back, it all piles up.

So, every couple of months, we hit the jungle to rake, scrape and pull junk further back so we can blow more of the detritus into the forest.

This time, Chiza was working a little further apart from the rest and encountered two small fer-de-lance snakes; venomous and small, which is more dangerous.

He dispatched both with his machete, though one did sink its fangs into his snake boots. No damage, hence why everyone wears snake boots while working in the jungle.

Now, this was off the beaten path, so no worries for anyone to come down this way, so gird up and don't chicken out.

Sloth down!

The other day, Miguel and Chiza were working up by the front gate, clearing brush and other stuff up from the driveway and further back into the jungle (more on that later).

I was walking by the front of the house on the way to the laundry room, when I saw Miguel waving and holding up a critter. At first, I thought it was a dog, and cringed a bit at adding another pooch to the menagerie. However, it was a young sloth (three-toed) that had fallen out of a tree. I went up to the gate and the little bugger was hunkered down on the driveway, clearly bewildered (even more so than its normal state) about being surrounded by three fellows who were ooh-ing and aah-ing over it. There were bugs flitting in and out of its face, though the little fellow didn't mind that; it was the goofy humans that upset the fellow.

To watch a sloth in a tree is sort of like an interpretative dance; for the most part graceful and forceful, though not-so interesting to watch at times, as it's just so doggone slow and deliberate.

To see a sloth on the ground, out of its element, is like watching Pauly Shore bust a move in MC-Hammer pants, but at 1/100th of the real speed: painful.

The young sloth's mother wasn't to be found until we had already put the youngster back into a tree. She was about six trees over, and by the time we spotted her, the little tyke was well on his way up into the tree and out of our reach.

Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Birthday to the States! We don't have any fireworks around here at Tree Houses (Lucy has forbidden them), but the spirit will be going around here today.

If the pattern holds, we'll probably have two or three folks/families from the U.S. here and we will wish them a happy Fourth of July. The folks from Europe and Canada will shake their heads and wonder what the fuss is about.

The only thing we'll be missing is the picnics and fireworks.

Soccer (shudder). . .

All right. Despite my well-known aversion to soccer (futbol) I do get into conversations with guests and particularly the folks that live around here. It's either inevitable or unavoidable, though I'm not sure which.

The U.S. got to the finals of the Gold Cup, which isn't a surprise. It's a tournament made up of teams from the Americas and the Caribbean.

The U.S. and Mexico are the traditional powers and this year things went according to seeding.

The U.S. squad took a 2-nil lead in the final and ended up gagging up a 4-2 loss to Mexico.

Some guests here were crushed; we were just bitter while the locals here was bemused.

There was some hazing the day after from Miguel and Chiza, though I just told them wait until the NFL lockout ends. That's the sole consolation, as the state of U.S. soccer is just grim.

The Sloth Whisperer. . .

Recently, there was a family of four that was staying here. Really nice folks and they, particularly the father, had a knack for finding sloths.

Sloths are not easy to locate as they don't move much and tend to stay hunkered around a branch or the main trunk of whichever tree they're in.

However, it seemed that daily the parents would go out for a walk before breakfast and come back and report the location of several sloths.

This was a nice bonus, as I am visually challenged when it comes to spotting wildlife, and Lucy is usually swamped at breakfast time. We could then impart the family's spottings to the other guests so they could check out the sloths for themselves.