Birdie 911. . .

Two days ago at breakfast, a Red-Legged Honey Creeper flew into the rancho. There is one door and one window (sans screen) that are open at breakfast, and at this time of year, the birds are really everywhere.

A few times a week, they shoot into the kitchen of the rancho and it's always a chore (though entertaining) to get them back outside.

It fell to me the other day, and the poor bird was hitting the glass and screens on the other windows, but could not (after much encouragement--foul and fair--and chasing about) find its way out.

At last, after the female was gassed (the bright blues are the males and the greens are the females) it alit next to the microwave and I was able to snatch it up and take it outside.

The creepers are small, not much larger than hummingbirds, and I'm always a bit hesitant to pick them up, lest I hurt them. This little lady, though, was pretty tired out and didn't put up much resistance when I finally got my ham-handed fingers around her and escorted her outside.

Iron stomachs. . .

These are plantains (pictured). The look like bananas, but are a little larger, thicker and infinitely more indigestible than their cousins.

Basically, if you eat them raw, you're going to have jungle tummy for a couple of days.

They are very tasty when you bake them, fry them, pound them into chips and fry them (think Gump Shrimp). But do not eat them raw.

The other day, Lucy and I popped into one of the tree houses to change the towels after the folks had vamoosed, and found a bunch of plantains above the refrigerator and some were missing. The family, from Germany, were out hiking the volcano.

The next day at breakfast, Lucy told them that the plantains should not be eaten raw. The father, a very gregarious fellow, nearly fell off his bench laughing, saying that they had been eating them raw for the past two weeks (the German folks have a great vacation plan).

Patricia and Seidy, who were working that morning, about fell over laughing that anyone would eat a plantain raw. The family, though, was unfazed and will probably make that a part of their diet for their whole time here in Costa Rica.

These lovely critters. . .

Are making regular appearance at the rancho for breakfast in the mornings. They are a cousin to the toucan, but their beak isn't the same green/yellow that the toucan has. And the toucans don't slum it with us at breakfast.

Still, the Collared Arakari are very pretty birds and tend to travel in groups of four, five, six, seven or more.

We put out plantains (they're like bananas) daily before breakfast and get quite the spectrum of birds for folks to watch while they're enjoying their breakfast.

Many times, the Arakari will bite off, literally, more than it can chew and will flip the plantain back and forth in its beak until it dissolves into a manageable bite.

A holiday tail. . .

T'was days before Christmas and Mark was making his rounds;

Checking the tree houses and the surrounding grounds.

He walked up to one, to see if all was cool;

Alas, it was not and he babbled like a fool;

For it was a snake, a serpent curled up nice and tight;

If possible, it made Mark even more pasty white.

Not all was lost, as Mark found a stick;

And dispatched of the critter with nary a flick.

As it slithered off into the jungle with its fangs hanging out;

Mark was heard to say he has confined himself to bed for the next year with gout.

Was the serpent bad, was it good or was Mark taking his chances?

No one knows, but Mark and his pants-es

Ho-Ho-Hotel greetings. . .

To everyone near and far, a very happy Christmas and a merry New Year! (Forgive the delay, I'm lazy and Sunday was the holiday after all).

For the three of you that read this blog regularly, thank you for coming down in 2011 and for the others that have not made it down this way: make it a resolution and head on down here in 2012.

We're planning on being here and would love to see one and all get down this way.

Santa does make it to Costa Rica, though he usually on an ATV, rather than a sled.

Head scratchers. . .

As more and more folks ask about coming to Tree Houses, we get a continual stream of questions that are always entertaining, as well as sometimes befuddling.

Q: We want to go to the Monteverde Cloud Forest. Can we drive there from the Tree Houses?

A: Of course. It's about a 4- to 5-hour drive, as you must go around the Arenal Volcano and Lake Arenal to get there. It's not a day trip, but rather a place to go if you want to spend a day or two up there.

Response: So, we can drive ourselves in an hour?

Q: We want to go ziplining while in Costa Rica. What is the weight limit?

A: For most of the ziplines, the weight limit is 280 pounds.

Response: My brother/husband/nephew is 350 pounds, is that too much?

Q: How do we change money in Costa Rica?

A: U.S. dollars are just fine in Costa Rica, save yourself the commission and fees if you're coming from the States.

Response upon checking in at Tree Houses: Where do we change money?

The least-est, worst-est job of all. . .

Is when it's time to re-do the septic drain lines.

In the country out here, everyone is on the septic system, which works reasonably well. In the cities, they have sewers, just like back in the States.

However, when you have families coming into a tree house and the children bring little toys that are prone to being lost down a drain, that's where the real problem arises.

It will block up the tank and cause a backflow that is not the best odor by any stretch. "Sopa la septico" is the phrase that we've coined here, and it's not good at all.

Luckily, the crack team of Miguel Gerardo and myself can go in, dig up the mess, repair the damage and have everything smelling rosy in a matter of hours. The actual work itself can bring tears to some folks' eyes--fortunately, not the guests.

After being here for coming on three years, our olfactory senses are attuned to the smell of a bum tank, and we're able to get on it the same day, or the next if it's too late.

'Tis the season II

When we have a lot of families coming down for the Christmas holidays. . . It brings a lot of families and a lot of questions.

Some of our favorites:

Q: Where is the jacuzzi in the tree house?

A: The second tree to the left, near the wasp nest.

Q: Where do you keep the sloths and the monkeys?

A: Right next to the jacuzzi, in the towel cupboard.

Q: We want to go to the free and all-natural hot springs and have the "real" experience.

A: Technically, the free hot springs (a runoff of what they drain out of their pools) are on the property of a larger resort that now has security guards that run folks off. Additionally, said large resort was fined heavily for dumping sewage down said "free" hot springs. Towels optional, tetanus shot required.

'Tis the season. . .

For merriment and good will to all. . . and for tamales! This is the time of year when folks bake tamales and give them to friends, family, etc., for the holiday season.

Lucy, Patricia, Darling and Seidy cooked up about 150 tamales a while ago, so everyone could have some.

It's a very doughy dish, with meat, vegetables, salsa all wrapped up in a banana leaf and then steamed to perfection.

The dough is extremely dense and most folks buy the dough from a couple of outlets in Ciudad Quesada, as it's not all that easy to make from scratch. It is a process to get everything tucked into there and wrapped up, but the result is worth the effort (so says someone who has only eaten them).

It's Chewy. . .

Or Chuy, depending on how you want to interpret the name.

We have decided to keep the little ankle-biter that washed up here at Tree Houses a few weeks ago.

(This is not an actual picture as we don't have one yet, but this is pretty close to what she looks like).

Chewy--I'm spelling it that way for Chewbacca of Star Wars fame; Lucy is going with Chuy, for Chelsea Handler's "Little Nugget."

She does like to chew and particularly on shoelaces, pant legs, fingers, toes, etc. Unfortunately, that also applies to cane toads, which emit a toxin that will kill dogs. Hence, we've had to keep an eye on her when the toads are out and about.

She's pitbull/black lab and the vet pegs her age at 3 months. She already weighs more than Mini-B and delights in terrorizing Bejuca and Mini-B with yaps and little growls.

She should grow up to be around 50 pounds or so and will make a nice addition to the brood.

Sometimes, you're just never going to win. . .

We recently had a couple that had been to Tree Houses four years ago (before we started working here). Very nice and happy to be back. They had stayed in the Frog tree house the time before, and asked if they could try another tree house, to experience a different style.

No problem, when we did the tree house assignments, we juggled some other folks around to get the couple into the Toucan tree house, which we typically put honeymooners into.

When they checked in, they were all happy about getting to be in a different tree house. In fact, that was one of their first questions when they arrived; if they were going to be in a different one.

About an hour later, Lucy was walking the pooches up the trail when she ran into the folks.

"How's your tree house?" Lucy asked.

"Can we have a different one, this is small," was the reply.

By that time, there was no chance to move them. They weren't upset or anything, so that was nice.

Ironically, it would have saved us some time and head-scratching if we had put them in the Frog to start with when we did the assignments earlier.

Marathon results. . .

Everyone can check out the full results at: www.honolulumarathon.org

For the others, here are the results of our friends who ran the marathon:

Bruce Mullikin

Honolulu

HI

USA

1672

0 8:50:35

0 8:49:47

David Fitzpatrick

Honolulu

HI

USA

433

0 3:44:10

0 3:43:31

The first time is the gun time, while the second time is the chip time, which is the official time used for the results.

Some of our other friends didn't run this year for various reasons, but hopefully they'll be back running next year.

Happy Honolulu Marathon Day!

We break from tradition (and general laziness) to post on a Sunday.

Today is the Honolulu Marathon, held on the second Sunday of December. This is where Lucy and I met, training for the marathon, and we ran several of the races while we were living in the Islands.

We will be watching our friends rip through the course tomorrow and will monitor and perhaps post their times here for the three of you that are interested.

Sad news. . .

Last week, when Gerardo was coming to work, he stumbled upon a sad sight. He and Miguel typically enter from the outside gate and come up the back trail.

Gerardo saw a dead sloth on the trail. From what we were able to figure out and piece together, the sloth must have been crossing the road when it was hit by a car, as it was missing a front leg.

Sloths on the ground are even slower than they are in the trees. Their claws are so long, they pretty much just drag themselves, using their elbows and knees as a way to get around down on terra firma.

Dodging a snake. . .

The other day, when Lucy returned home after running some errands, she threw open the door and tossed Mini-B and the new pooch (still nameless) into the house and told me to come outside.

Curled in a tight little ball was a fer-de-lance. It was probably about 6 to 8 inches long. We've seen them before and we will see them again, unfortunately.

This little critter, though, was curled up right in front of the bathroom on the outside of our house. That means that anyone who wanted to enter the bathroom, had to walk right over (or perhaps on?) the venomous bugger.

Being the great chicken when it comes to snakes, I just looked and waited to see if it would do anything. We called Gerardo over and he thought we were joking at first, then he saw the snake and wasn't quite as jovial. He did take care of it, getting it to wrap around a stick (he also had a machete just in case) and carried it off deep into the jungle to let it wander out and about on its own.

Happy Birthday!

To little brother Matt Eidson, who turns 42 today (yes, I had to use a calculator to count that high).

(Written by his mom, Pat and edited heavily by his big brother).

Being the youngest of the two Eidson boys, Matt benefited greatly from the wisdom and guidance of his older brother, Mark. Now that Matt is up there in years like Mark (though Mark doesn't show nearly half the signs of aging that Matt does) we deeply appreciate all the insight that Matt has gleaned from his older and more handsome brother.

Happy Birthday!