Sure, anything could happen...

New cool finding of the day - my blog automatically adds the date on top of my post, so it is even LESS necessary for me to know the date. Yey! Technology IS my friend! I am working on a post called "How Green I Am" based on my current reading of the "Omnivore's Dilemma" and a stupid Fox news extra about a couple who planned their "Green" honeymoon in Costa Rica. But I'm way into it and want to make it special...so sit tight, man, and stop yelling at me!
Here's how today went. The boys have off today (Ramone and Juan), so I am sure that it is Sunday. Sunday's are my favorite days of all because I get to put on my farmer boots (am I obsessed with footwear, or what?!) and play farmer girl. It's around 6 am, and I decide that the pigs are wallowing in way too much pig stuff. It rained like crazy at around 4 am, and I got to thinking about Swine Flu (that's a natural progression, no?) and decided that I would let Nacatamale and Tortilla and the Sweets out for a lawn breakfast. This is an extremely bold idea. Almost as bold as me deciding to wear my nighshirt most of the day. My fave sleeping shirt is a sleeveless teal number with green turtles stitched on them. My mom gave it to me. I want to be buried in it while the Betania school plays My Way. The Sweets are 4 piglets born a little over a month ago. Technically, their names are Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Tyra Banks and Christie Brinkley. But doing a pretty good "pig call" of sweet, SWeet, SWEEt, SWEET is much easier than Brad, George, Tyra and Christie. So, I grab a cup of Esteli coffee (crack coffee we call it because it is disturbingly addictive) and head out back to the corrals. Step 1: Find a stick. Step 2: Open Gates. Step 3: get the heck out of the way - we've got 500 pounds of fun running out the door like a prison break out. Unfortunately, my plan went terribly awry after Tortilla took off through the banana orchards with the Sweets in tow. Mind you, King and Coquetta (the dogs) are just waiting for me to say, "Go ahead, kids, breakfast time!" and snatch one of the little ones for a quick treat. Everyone behaved, except for Tortilla, who is now racing full speed towards God knows what. Nacatamale is grazing nicely in the lime fields. Important note: Mike would kill me if he knew what I was up to. I'm always coming up with these animal-friendly ideas, most of which backfire terribly, so I only have a short while to get these fatties back in their pens before I have to eat the proverbial crow and say, "I know. I promise. Never again. Don't play with the lifestock. Yadda yadda yadda. How 'bout some crack coffee?" After about 20 minutes, I decide it's time to call in a professional. Tim is in the kitchen, and he used to work on a farm, so I enlist his help. To make a long story short, we chased them all over the property, and decided to use some of the breakfast slop to entice Tortilla, who is now waaay over on the edge of the property near the river. A Nicaraguan family walks by on the beach, and watches Tim (in flipflops) and me (in knee high rubber boots, shorts and a turtle embroidered nightshirt) chasing the Sweets and their momma through the river, into the woods, and near the corral. At one point, holding a bucket of stinky fish head slop with corn (breakfast of pig champions) I throw the bucket at Tim, who is yelling, "Run, Forrest, Run!!!" (remind me to fire him) and he takes off towards the banana orchards. Mental note: Never, ever, try to entice a 250 pound female pig with food in the morning before she's eaten. After about 20 minutes, we get her in the corral, Nacatamale follows suit shortly, and all is well. All this before 7 am. SAFE! Mike's still in bed. The rest of day is taken up by a few annoying rich guys who stop in for beers - they say they are looking for property down the beach. Everyone comes here with these grandiose ideas of opening up a hotel, but the fact is, only Mike and Rob are crazy enough to buy property at the end of the world (or the asshole of Nicaragua, as Luis Rafael calls it) so good luck. Eat lunch - lobster, again (can't wait until lobster season ends - I swear I'm losing my opposable thumbs and developing a meaty tail). A man and 2 women come in to go on a kayak trip (Tim runs this one, great job, remind me to rehire him). Make some money. Nice. At around 4 pm, I go downstairs to make my signature Cauliflower and Potato Soup. At that instant, Nino and Marienella (my corn farm partners) pull up with their family. 4 cars of beautiful Nicaraguans who are the most precious and kind people I have ever met. Drink beer, drink more rum and cokes, eat soup (the recipe of which comes from a vegetarian cookbook my Mom gave me too - thanks Mommy!) Juan comes by on his bike because he saw the car caravan in town. Generally, whenever there are cars in Mechapa, they're coming here. So he wanted to make sure we were OK and offer his help (mental note: give Juan a raise). It's funny here, but no matter how I try to plan my day, it is impossible. There are no rules, such as wake up at 7, eat breakfast by 7:30, get in car by 8, office by 9. Work until 5, home by 6. Dinner at 7, kiss kids goodnight. Repeat.
So the day's tally: Pigs tucked in and accounted for: 6, Swine Flu: 0, Satisfied Customers: 3, Deeper Friendships: 2, New friends: 12, Money Made: enough to make payroll Tuesday. Life is good. Maybe I'll wear my turtle nightshirt tomorrow, too!