Adios, arriverdicci, etc. . .

We are out of here again. . . We're going to meet Mom and Pop Eidson for a bit of a break, as well as some great friends from Tokyo, Mark and Kiyomi.

Where are we off to? There's a clue in the picture here.

No one is taking a laptop, so our Internet and e-mail connections will likely be limited by access and a desire on our part to just relax and lay low.

We will be back around the middle of November and will hopefully be posting before Thanksgiving.

Down it comes. . .

For those of the green persuasion, you may not want to read this. This was a very high tree and healthy. However, to cut down the necessary limbs and branches, it was just too dangerous to send anyone up that high. There are no cherry-pickers here, so the only way to cut things are for someone to shinny up and start cutting.

After Miguel had tied off some rope about 45 feet or so up in the tree and had shinnied back down, the three of us tied off the rope to another tree, and Miguel went to work with the chainsaw.

He cut it as deep as he felt comfortable with, and we pulled and sat and jumped up and down on the rope. No dice, the tree wasn't going anywhere.

Miguel went to bring in another fellow who lives across the street. No luck, not enough weight to bring the tree down. Then Miguel went to get another two fellows and a hand-winch.

This was about a 2-hour process, while the winch was hooked up (including Miguel climbing the tree again after it had been cut to wrap some cable around up high) and everyone was wrenching downward on the rope.

Finally, there was a good breeze blowing through and the hand-winch was cranked tight. At that point, the tree started crackling and all six of us all bolted in six different directions when the massive tree came crashing down.

No one was hurt, the tree fell far enough away from everyone. Two of the fellows bolted through hanging vines that have about 1/4-inch stickers and had some scrapes from that, but otherwise were OK. When the tree came down, everyone was pulling so hard on the rope, no one could see which way it was falling, so it was a mad dash for safety when the bugger came down.

The tree did take out one of the power lines that light up the driveway, but we had those up and fixed within an hour.

Now, we're just waiting for Coopalesca to show up.

Clearing the way. . .

So, after the inspector came out and said the contractors failed to clear the branches over the new lines (and the contractors said they were unavailable for the next few weeks) Miguel decided to take matters into his own hands.

The offending branches were attached to a tree that was probably around 100-plus feet high. We have an extension ladder that goes up to 30 feet. Miguel clambered up the ladder, with a harness that had a rope that myself and his son, Gerardo, were holding onto in case he fell.

After Miguel cleared the ladder, he shook off his boots and let them fall to the ground. Then he shinnied another 15 feet up to a crook in the tree where he could rest; all the while Gerardo and I were keeping him aloft by pulling on the rope attached to the harness.

After we sent up a bottle of water to Miguel by rope, he got ready to shinny up about another 10 to 12 feet to another resting spot in the tree, where he planned on tying himself off, hauling up the chainsaw and whacking the limbs.

At that point, I turned to Gerardo (being somewhat dim-witted, it took me a bit to figure out the plan) and asked if it would be better to just take the whole tree down. Of course, he said, and asked Miguel, who promptly tied off the rope up high and came back down.

Then ensued another batch of work. . .

The waiting game. . .

And so it continues. After three weeks without any news from Coopalesca, an inspector finally showed up to check out the poles planted in the ground and the cables.

The inspector (the same fellow who has been out here twice and has seen everything) came out and pronounced the project--unworthy.

The contractors that Coopalesca had hired, apparently did not have enough tension on one of the guide-wires, and they failed to cut down some of the branches that were hanging over the new lines.

Back to square one.

Surprisingly enough, the contractors came out, scurried up the offending pole with the guide-wire, and had the repair done a day afterward. However, they said that it would be at least two to three weeks before they could come back and take down the dangling branches (more on that later).

So, after starting the process in June of this year, we're nearly at the end of October and are still awaiting everything to be connnected.

Working on high. . .

OK, so working on the Toucan tree house isn't like working on a skyscraper in New York or climbing a mountain, but it is kind of high, about 25 to 30 feet high.

However, when you are replacing the stairs, that's pretty high, especially for someone who is afraid of heights (yours truly).

And while I am afraid of heights, that was nothing compared to what Darling went through.

Since we were replacing the steps on the tree house, we tore out part of the wall to put in a larger window and also sanded and varnished the inside and outside of the tree house. The first day, Darling and Patricia went up to clean and prep the inside for varnish. We told them ahead of time that they were going to be walking up the stairs, but they would be coming down by ladder, as we were taking out the stairs.

No worries, they said. They know I'm a chicken up high, and when I brought their lunch up their ladder, Darling was having a good-ol yuk at my shaky steps up and down the ladder.

Darling thought it was a hoot and a holler until it was time for her to come down.

Patricia, as she is wont to do, shrugged and climbed down the ladder from 25 to 30 feet up (there is the railing to climb over as well). Darling, on the other hand, had a serious panic attack. She retreated into the tree house several times, sobbing and not wanting to come down the ladder. Patricia tried to coax her down; Miguel tried to coax her down; Lucy tried to coax her down. Nothing was working.

Finally, Gerardo (Miguel's son) scrambled up the ladder and showed Darling how to come down. She finally made it and was chuckling a bit afterward, though she has vowed never to go up in a tree house again if there are no stairs.

The next day, while there were still no stairs, Patricia went up on her own and we gave Darling the option of:

A) Cleaning the remaining tree houses;
B) Digging a new septic line and cleaning out the tank on the Toucan;
C) Wrangling the venomous snakes with her bare hands;
D) Massaging Bejuca and Mini-B's feet;
E) Just taking the ladder up the Toucan and hanging out.

It was an easy call for her, and the other tree houses are now clean; the septic line is finished; there are no more snakes and Bejuca and Mini-B are prancing like princesses.

OK, B, C, D and E were all fiction, but it was kind of entertaining, eh? Now that we know Darling does not handle heights well, no more climbing for her. That, of course, doesn't mean that the ribbing will let up.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY. . .

To the loveliest and nicest wife that a goober in Costa Rica could ask for.

Indeed, Lucy is a year older today; but also a year prettier and a year wiser (and a year crazier for sticking with a bozo like myself).

Unfortunately, the day will be mostly spent doing work on the tree houses and errands that Lucy has to take care of; such is the life at a hotel.

We just have one checkin tomorrow, and they should be here by 3 p.m., so hopefully we can escape for a birthday dinner.

We love our dogs. . .

And we're reasonably sure our pooches love us as well. However, in the past week, our brood has given us a gift that we would prefer not to have.

Yep, it's fleas. It's that time of year when the buggers are running out and about in the jungle and they pick up the insiduous little creatures and there's not a whole lot we can do about it. We alternate between flea collars and Revolution, Advantix, etc., but the little mites keep coming strong.

At one point, we could use up an entire Sharpie connecting the dots. It's just one of those things that pet owners have to put up with, we figure, as we're doing everything we can to corral the little blood-suckers.

Here we are. . .

Still awaiting the final hookup of the new transformer and power lines. The process stareted back in May sometime.

In August/September, we though real progress had been made, as some fellows came out and put up the new power lines, poles and transformer. All that was left, we were told, was for the power company to come out and hook up the new meter.

That was more than a month ago. We are still waiting for at least one, possibly two, inspectors to come out and give the official okely-dokely. We have already had two other inspectors come out and they presumably gave it the thumbs-up. Both of them had a fishing weight hanging on some line and they just walked around and eyeballed the new poles that were put up. They didn't do anything else. Maybe the next round of inspectors will actually check things out?

Of course, the money has been paid; it's just up to the power company at this point. Conservatively, and pessimistically, we're putting the over/under at around Christmas.

Timberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

We've been getting a fair amount of wind lately, and that translates into falling branches. Occasionally, it also means falling trees.

The other day, a couple of good-sized branches fell around the grounds and Miguel, Gerardo and I scouted the area to see which trees were a danger and which ones were just freaky accidents.

We ended up taking down three trees, and when we had them down on the ground, it was easy to see why they were shedding limbs. They were nearly hollow inside up near the top, as they had rotted from the inside out.

That, and the fact that everything grows quickly here, means that trees can come down whenever ther's a good, stiff wind blowing through. It's something that we have to keep an eye on constantly and it keeps us on our toes.

Rule No. 478. . .

When everyone is finished after a 10-hour day of varnishing, do not, under any circumstances, see who wants to go and help clean out the gutters or the ditches before it rains. Particularly when your Spanish isn't good enough to try and pull off a lame joke.

Let the place flood, get carried away and let the others build arks.

Just not worth it.

A Costa Rican Tradition. . .

Here is that when it is someone's birthday, they are either greeted with a shower of eggs or water hose.

It took a while for Lucy and I to grasp the meaning (though Lucy has still yet to be hit), but it is very popular.

This past April, on my birthday, I was hit twice by Miguel, out handyman of all trades. Much mirth was the result on Miguel's part; I got a lot of protein for my follicles.

It entailed a raw egg cracked over the top of my head. Fair enough, it was my birthday.

Miguel's birthday, was last week. Being a creature of habit, Miguel likes to sit in the same spot daily to enjoy his coffee. Naturally, that opened up a door (or bucket) for myself.

While Miguel was enjoying his coffee (and sadly his breakfast) I jumped up and brought down a rope that was attached to a bucket (3-litre water bottle) full of eggs, milk and water.

After the initial shock (and great learning curve for bad Spanish words) Miguel was impressed with the ingenuity, which leaves me a little fearful for next April.

A varnishing frenzy. . .

This is the time of year, as has been stated here previously, where we catch up on the maintenance of the tree houses.

Basically, it means that we are sanding, staining and varnishing the inside and out of the joints for the the upcoming year.

The tree houses aren't all that large, but there is a lot of wood that needs to be covered with varnish.

Pretty much, from Jan. 1 through the end of August, we are booked solid, so September and October are our times to get the rough work done.

As of October 9, four of the five tree houses have been made over, including the Sloth tree house, which now has new flooring. The sole tree house left is the Toucan, which is closed to all starting Oct. 17. That is the only tree house that does not have a wrap-around porch, so it also makes it the most difficult to sand and varnish. Couple that with the fact that a couple of wasp nests are hnging about outside the tree house, and it gets even trickier.

For the record, we use marine varnish here, which is what I suspect folks use on their sailboats. It does rain a lot here, so the marine varnish is a good thing. The only trick, at this time of year, is finding a good window to slap the varnish down before the rains come. No easy feat. The other day, Gerardo, took the leaf blower to dry off the steps before the rains came.

The sweet smell. . .

Of vanishing brain cells. And we all thought that the marine varnish packed a brutal punch to the olfactory senses. Then we stripped out the Pergo flooring on the Sloth, sanded down the wood and stained it.

Have mercy. That stuff will curl anything and everything in its way. It makes paint thinner smell like roses; a rendering plant like the Breakfast Slam at Denny's. . . You get the picture.

Putting that down on a hot, humid day with not much wind will really have you thinking about the wisdom of that choice.

Of course, everyone knows this. . .

Except for the handyman-challenged folks like myself. . . However, the other day when Miguel was re-wiring the laundry room to make room for more heavy-duty appliances (220 volts, like back home) we were working in close quarters.

That initial brush is NOT static electricity, as I thought, but just like what the original handyman Bruce has told me many times: It's a real jolt. Then again, I was trying to figure things out in Spanish, so I was even slower than normal. I was nearly knocked off the milk crates (Miguel was atop one of the washers) and no harm was done, (though Miguel thought it was pretty funny).

All is well and the internal wiring is all set. . . The external and the transformer? That's another story at this point.

Many thanks. . .

For the anniversary wishes. . . Lucy and I had a fine day, as we had just a few guests for breakfast (including one that has been here three times in the past 1.5 years) and we were able to get way to our favorite steak place. Mini-B did end up coming with us and she got her own hamburger. Afterward, she was too full to chase the ducks around the pond at the restaurant, as were we.

Rule No. 477. . .

After you call your lovely wife to ask her to check on the intercom's working capability at the front gate, remember to call her back to let her know that you're not around.

This, of course, after guests check in, can't quite figure out how to open up the door to their tree house and then back into a tree. No excuses.

Six years ago, around noon

California time, the prettiest, nicest woman I have ever known walked up the aisle with her father and actually agreed to marry me.

Yes, for the three of you wags that read this regularly, and will question Lucy's sanity, I do the same at times. We met in Hawaii and are now in a foreign land doing something totally different than we thought we could be doing in our futures.

It doesn't matter, though, if we're working at the hotel here or pulling Slurpees (or Slushees), as long as I'm with Lucy, life is just fine and dandy and there's nothing to worry about.

Hopefully today, we'll find the time to head to a hot springs resort and relax for a few hours and get away from the work and everything that needs to be done around the place.