We journeyed up to my property today. We wish to show Paul and Andrea, our friends our property. We met Andrea at our rental when we first came to Lake Arenal. We lived in the house and she lived in the Cabina. Eventually she would teach us Spanish.That is a chore and a half. They have been gone for three months for work in Europe.
We invited them for some lunch and a visit to our property. After the property we went to Equus for chicken and ribs. As usual it was delicious ! I love the flavor of the ribs and chicken and some Pilsner beer. Made my day, nothing like good company, beer and good food.
We left the restaurant and went to our rental. Margaritas were the main course. We discussed our property and enjoyed our company. Lots of teasing and laughing . We had an enjoyable afternoon. This is Costa Rica, good times and companionship. Wouldn’t you like this on a daily basis. That is what we have come to expect.
I am looking forward to the time my brothers come to visit and not want to leave( just like me). We have a conundrum; what kind of house shall we build. A container home or steel and concrete. No wood, too much trouble with termites. We will figure it out on Saturday when the construction and architect meet at the property. Do not hire people if you do not follow their ideas. A flow of our input in with the experts is a home run.
I had a baked apple pancake for breakfast today. It reminded me of my mother making breakfast for us in the mornings. Strange how old memories pop up:
Steaming hot with baked cinnamon
Picked fresh from the tree
Ten bushels for my mom
Orchards and orchards of apples for free
Pies and apple sauce
Helping mom she is the boss
Apple crisp and apples slices
No wonder I was a pudgy kid
Put the cooked apples capote in jars with lids
Set in the floor freezer to last all summer
Not every household had pastry chef for a mother
Cakes,pies, and homemade bread
The smells and aromas are still in my head
You go back to my old home town
All the orchards have been cut down
No more walking from farm to farm
No more enjoying the smell of country charm
I feel sorry for those who can’t understand
The smell of country cooking when you stepped onto our land
It is a city where I once lived
I am trying to forgive
Those who asked for progress
Got smog and congestion in the process
Mom is too old to cook our apples
That is ok; my sisters and I are ample
We still have apple crisp and slices
But it is not as enticing
Gone are the bushel baskets of fun
The hikes we took long the river runs
The cooked cinnamon apples
My mother handing out samples
Those wonderful smells are still in my head
Poem from Timothy M Nugent: A Collection of Poems.
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