Looking on the bright side

PLAYA LAPA,  Carate, Costa Rica.  We arrived here to our home-for-week in the beautiful jungle of the Pacific Coast of the Osa Pennisula.  Getting here involved, first, a 1.5 hour drive on a mostly-paved- (and often being-paved-) road off the Interamerican to Puerto Jimenez, with one bridge 0ut (apparently a large crane attempted to drive across and...) -- the river wasn't bad there, just the grading on the river banks.  After a stop in P.J. for supplies and the keys to our house we had another 1.5 hours on dirt, rock, mud, water.  Yes, about 6 more rivers to cross, without bridges (not out, never had).  L.C. handled the drive fine and we arrived safe and sound and settled into our temporary home.  We had seared fresh caught tuna for dinner.  

Yes, life is generally good here.  Our gardens are gorgeous. We have seen, in our yard:  2 kinds of monkeys -- small, orange ones with white faces, and larger, black ones with orange faces; hundreds of butterflies; scarlet macaws; eagles; and, in our house rats.  Yes, rats.  Pretty tannish-orangish rats.  In our pantry.  Right after dinner last night.  We trapped one in a bucket and tried to drown him (as he wouldn't drown Gregg had to bludgeon him this morning).  Just after we captured him and thought we plugged the access hole, I saw another dart along the shelve.  We knew we were headed to the jungle -- we figured on the threat of snakes and scorpions (haven't seen any), mosquitoes (which are not bad), humidity, etc.  Not rats.

So, feeling somewhat "rat"tled, we are also struggling with what would otherwise be minor inconveniences -- mold, for one.  It is insanely humid here and the house is wooden and the smell of mold is pervasive.  Tomorrow I will mix of some vinegar, TTO, and lavender and have a go at that.  

And then each evening as the last orange streaks of sunlight disappear from the sky I hear in my head lines of a cummings' poem:

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending

But it is not snow descending on my head in this house.  It is flying ants.  Scores of them.  They don't bite or seem to do anything other than drive me a little batty for about an hour.  They don't seem to bother Gregg (good, cuz the rats sure do) or the girls.  

Sooooo, as I head to bed with sounds of bright green crickets and aqua waves on graphite sands, I will try to forget rats, and mold, and ants.   I will focus on beauty.