Aaaah! That is all I can say about coming home from Estados Uñidos after ten days in Las Vegas seeing Corina’s Mom, who had a debilitating stroke. We walked into the house and it was burglarized for the third time in a month! We made all the preparations to secure the house: locks were repaired, made an appointment for the lights to be repaired while we were gone, and had people watching the house for us. Well laid plans of mice and men. Poof! Gone is my rotary saw, drill, tool box with hole cutters, knives, wood chisels, three hundred foot measuring tape, and the list goes on. The tool box was black with yellow trim with a broken clip on the right side to latch it shut. Come on! Why would you steal a broken , plastic tool box with few tools in it.
Three times in one month and I reach a boiling point. I left the USA for a more safe environment. Frustrating, why me? Have I upset people hear in Guanacaste by buying eguipment to build my new house? Showing them I am industrious and love Costa Rica. Or are they poor, out of work and steal to make money? Who knows, complicated by an intestinal problem that had me making love to the porcelain God for three days made me ripe for anger, revenge and down right upset. Pobrecito! Until next time,
It is peaceful and quiet;
Shade tree is a requirement,
Soft rock and roll for contentment,
A wading pool for enticement.
Shade from the midday sun,
Cool refreshment for one,
My kind of solitary confinement,
A sanctuary for a time.
Lost in peacefulness,
No time for selfishness,
Invite friends to find wholesomeness,
Gentleness, and kindness.
Everyone should have a place to hide,
Where waterfalls fall from up high,
Skies of blue and the waters clear,
A place where prayers are sincere.
A backyard or the trappings of Yosemite,
Or the open spaces of Wyoming,
Anywhere you find inner peace,
Some pillows near an open fireplace.
A sanctuary, A quality of time.