reforming a shopaholic

<--- oscar, and his homemade gym, are the inspiration for this post. i mean seriously, how cool is this? a bit flintstone-esque without a doubt, but this is a multipurpose home gym made from wood, concrete, and that's right, a boulder. i am not unlike most americans, i like to shop. i shop when i need something, i shop when i don't need anything. i shop when i have the money, or when i don't have the money. i shop when i am bored, happy, depressed or even accidently when walking by a store with something remotely intriguing in the window. call me a shopaholic. but what does a shopaholic do when she moves to a rural farm and has NOWHERE to shop.... she makes lists and lists of things she could buy, or maybe even will buy the next time she has half the chance. i have a list for the next time i go to the local town (only groceries there!), a list for the regional capital (a few more options, but not real shopping) , a list for shopping in san jose (where, while shopping, i get to enjoy a cafe mocha!), and i even have a list for the next time i go home to the mecca of shopping, the united states. a fair amount of time has been spent on these lists, some of it necessary items, but mostly it is just me dreaming of shopping.

i am hoping that this is a passing phase and i will gradually let go of my shopping jones... i hope that i will learn that buying things does not fill the void. that is the point here. it is ok to want, but maybe i need to start looking for what i want somewhere other than a store....

oscar and his family live on the property, he is my boyfriend's righthand man on the finca. they are typical for this region, nicaraguans that immigrated to costa rica for work. they make a very modest living by our standards, but are doing well for the area. they do not have the luxury that i have had my whole life, when i need something i go to the store and buy it. they need to be much more creative than that. some locals are not and will just make do with what they have, next to nothing. but some are like oscar and will use what is available to get what they need, or even just want. my boyfriend brought home a muscle mag from the states and gave it to oscar, his homemade gym was the result.

we can learn a lot from oscar...

howler monkey or satan incarnate

its starting to feel like home.

my darling sweet evani thinks that 5 am is a good time to wake up everyday. and if i had somewhere to go, or something to do other than parent cute evani, clean the house, and browse the slowest internet in the world i might agree. but given that i am a housewife and she a jungle princess, why shouldn't we SLEEP IN?? maybe just til 7??

BECAUSE the howler monkeys also think that 5 am is the time to wake up, for that is the time they start howling. EVERY MORNING. is that really what its called, howling? it sounds more like satan has woken and is roaming our jungle streets looking for idle hands to do his work. it was charming the first few days, wow i really am living in costa rica, but now i would much rather SLEEP.

scattered amongst the trees, staking out the days territory, there is no sleeping in for our black fury nomad neighbors, los monos congos. should be the name of a band. satan's band.

sleep, i vaguely remember what that is... eyes shut, snug under a comforter, peacefully dreaming... hmm nope, i haven't seen it lately.

at least i have a roof over my head, i might howl too if i had to sleep in the rain.

bacon and ham

we have a new addition to the farm, two little brother and sister piglets. i haven't spent much time around pigs but i know they lay around in the mud, and they squeal and snort, and they eat everything including garbage. i have seen Snatch so i also know what they are capable of. never trust a pig farmer.

watching three grown men try and catch even the littlest one is hilarious, if not pathetic.

of course i am as hypocritical as the next modern carnivore, i eat meat from the market, already cleaned and ready to cook. the idea of knowing an animal before it becomes my dinner does not appeal to me. so upon these sweet little piggies arrival i had no choice but to decide i will never eat pork again. (i seriously hope we are not getting any chickens).

my 12 year old daughter does not share my sentiment, she named them bacon and ham.