Bowties? Yes, they are scary...

So here is last night's ABSOLUTELY TRUE conversation with Mike at about 3 am...
Mike...Mike...wake up (always a dicey issue, as my vodka-swilling better half often sleeps like a drunk. Amazingly, he says...)
Yes, what can I do you for?
I say,
There's a mouse in the house. It's in the living room. What do I do?
He says,
Does it have a bow tie on?
I say,
I don't think so.
He says,
Then don't worry. You only have to worry about the ones with bow ties on...they're the sneaky ones.
Strangely comforted, I go back to sleep.
So...on to other things that I KNOW will pique your interest.
Our little hotel has had some interesting guests lately. What is the deal with bringing 1 and 2 year old babies up a freakin' volcano? Don't know...but I've had 2 families accomplish it in the past 2 weeks. Europeans. Whatever. Must be some Christmas spirit manifesting itself in some strange way. Speaking of which, I posted a video on rbrmechapa YouTube of Davidson with a Santa hat on. I felt very bad about it. It seemed to violate some holiday rule that one should never exploit farm animals for selfish and self-serving photo ops. BUT, it is sort of cute, except for the fact that he tried to kick me after I finished video-ing and went to go fill the water tank. Oh, Davidson. Wipe that smile off your face!
New news on the animal front, while we're at it...Mimbo the yellow cat died after eating the mouse poison I left in the house for the .... mouse. Something you never need to see...ever. Here's the weird part. I'm in the kitchen, it's about 5 pm and the doors are shut and a little thing runs across the floor. Naturally, I think it's a mouse, without a bow tie, but it's actually a little kitten. She was dropped off by a chicken hawk with a conscious, landed outside the kitchen door and worked her way in. She is, by far, the ugliest cat I have ever seen. Besides the fact that she was dropped by a chicken hawk from an unknown height, she has a strange hair lip thingy going on. Sweet, yes. Absorbed Mimbo's "best cat ever" spirit, for sure. Evokes that "Oh my gosh, what is UP with that cat's face?!" look, every time.

Keeping the animal spirit moving forward...we slaughtered our final pig, Brad Pitt, two days ago. I hate to admit it, but it sure is a nice idea to raise your own food, name it, love it, shoot it and put it in the freezer. I think they would call that "eco-friendly."

I have so much more to say...who would have thought after all this time! And PROMISE that the Mama will forward all of Coqueta's sexy thoughts...when I can...if only those darn bow ties would stay out of my head!

BTW, the Mechapa Mama is publishing her first book on Amazon called "Chinandega hates you" very soon- OK, so the title is under review, but it will be out soon!

Puppies

The Mama forgot to take her "anti-conceptivo" shot, so she was going through some hot and sexy times here in Mechapa....Fear not, illustrious readers, we expect her to be back in channelling action oh...so...soon!!

Not So Fast

I have been a baaaaaad girl. First off, my last cheese experiment went wrong (despite the heroic efforts of S.R.!) I think it has something to do with the weather. I've done a lot of reading on making cheese and yogurt and cream cheese and most mention that they don't come out right if there is a thunderstorm in the works - which around these parts, this time of year, is like all the time. Too grainy, too tart, just not so yummy-licious and definately not on par with the soon-to-be-patented Sabo Scale of Food Lookiness. I'm pretty sure my pigs are clinically depressed, especially Brad Pitt and George Clooney (who BTW was finally castrated yesterday - owwwwwie..) Also Tyra Banks is refusing to get knocked-up so I don't have any fun little piglets running around - resulting in a general feeling of unease (I know there's a joke in there about being "pent up" sexually, but I just can't put my finger on it - get it? PENNED UP....oy.) All this after they were upgraded from the open pen under the mango tree to the little Rancho near the Bodega. My pigs' house is nicer than most human beings' houses in Mechapa! It's a dog-gone duplex with a mud swimming pool, concrete interior WITH a window for a million dollar view of the ocean. Maybe that's the problem - cushy digs = cranky pigs.
The three horses (Sunset, Davidson and Booper) are running around wild and come home only in the wee hours of the morning which serves only to wake the dogs, who go berserky, which only serves to wake me up and make me run around the property with a huge flashlight cursing under my breath and stepping in horse poo, which only serves to make me give up after a while, resulting in Mike yelling at me in the morning on how we should just get rid of DAMN HORSES. Double Oy. I have decided to retaliate by slaughtering Tyra on Monday (although it should be Brad...he just never accepted his castration when he was young and is smaller and brattier (Braddier?) than George) so she will "go to Dog Heaven." I don't know why, but I just don't think that there is a heaven for pigs. Dogs, definately, pigs, no. But dogs are pretty cool so I think they let them in - if not for any other reason than they're fun to chase around, which would mean by extension that cats would be allowed in too, unless of course there's a cat heaven, which I seriously doubt. Rabbits, too. I have to STOP playing with the livestock, especially after the traumatic strangulation death of Mona Lisa due to my inferior knot-tying skills - although I am having visions of little pelibueys dancing in my head. Don't tell Mike, but I am thinking about buying a pair, Mona Lisa Too and Picaso. Seriously, don't tell him....
I am totally out of cucumbers, so I can't make any more pickles for the time being, unless I go to Chinandega which I DO NOT want to do because it's always too hot, takes too long, and I spend way too much money on crap I don't want or need - the desire just to buy things is an exhausting fight. I keep meaning to re-do some grout in bathrooms, but I've never done that before so it will probably end up being a disaster and Mike says it will be a disaster so it will definately be a disaster. This entry was supposed to be about my new pie-in-the-sky project called Guest Review, since I am obviously a seething snake pit of anger and frustration (have I mentioned lately that I miss escalators, high heels, super-blonde highlights and fast English?). So instead of a full-blown diatribe on this ground-breaking idea that would most definately land me a 2-minute spot on Good Morning America or Oprah, or America's Most Wanted, it gets a meer (mear, mere...another one of those words...) passing nod in an otherwise boring and farm animal ridden blog. Here it is anyway:
You know how there's Trip Advisor where people can post hotel and restaurant reviews on-line and say whatever they want with absolutely no shame? Well, this is the owner's revenge, where hotel and restaurant owners rate the GUESTS...get it?! So, let's say a family from Miami come just before Semana Santa, stay a couple of nights, all happy and nice to the owners and their staff, but really, there are at least 5 separate things about them that are actually quite awful - and that other hotel owners would probably like to know about them BEFORE they get there...I haven't worked out all the details yet, but there would be several scales....say 1. Cleanliness (where they absolute pigs to clean up after?) 2. Tip-ability (did they leave a tip for great staff service?) 3. General Lookiness (borrowed and adapted from the soon-to-be patented Sabo Scale of Food Lookiness - after all, who really wants to see 10 pounds of junk in a 5 pound swimming suit bag?) 4. .... This could go on and on, but I fear it would come across just sounding punkish and mean-spirited, which is the point of Guest Advisor of course, but not my intent here, and why let everyone get a front row seat to my inner soul, anyway?
Who does that, anyway? Who slaughters a pig in retaliation for bad pig-behavior and farm oogieness? What a wacko!!!
For any of my faithful readers who want to know how it goes tomorrow with Tyra, check out YouTube under RBRMechapa (rated PG) for all the details and public evidence that Ramone needs to lay off the crack-coffee. This isn't my first time around the Rodeo but I am experimenting with smoked ham and home-made sausage (a COLOSSAL flop the first go round - considered getting MediVac'd out of the hotel.) Should be fun.....ish.

Drilled...on the cheap!

Sun, surf, beach and....novacaine? Welcome to Nicaragua! After my first failed attempt at turning back time (see previous post on my whitening experience) I finally succeeded. A little hotter? Fer sure. And in my typical entrepreneurial (that looks weird? I'll spell check later...) spirit, I reached out to see if any of my friends would be interested in travelling to Chinandega to experience the dental stylings of Dr. Gabriel and his lovely assistant Octavia (50 bonus points to them for having the coolest names around.) Here's the skinny:
Original U.S. quote for my friend from Chicago: $9,000
Second quote from Managua for the same work: $4,000
Dr. G.'s quote: $1,500!!!
This is for the same dental work people! Granted, it was pretty sophisticated stuff (root canals and bridges and bears, oh my!), but Dr. G. is a dental surgeon, so I knew he could handle it.
PLUS - I had 7 cavities filled for $10 each....I used to pay more than that for a glass of wine in Chicago.
I figure that even after the airfare and the nights at Redwood Beach Resort, this little bit of Nicaragua Travel Information is pretty close to priceless....
And he looked fabulous.
Next on my bit list (think about it...it's sort of funny) is my father from NY.
Mechapa Mama, always looking out for the enamel-challenged!

True Love. Or....Extreme Boredom. Pick your title.

The following conversation – totally real – just happened. I think it’s a sign that after 15 years of being together Mike and I can still find something to talk about

Setting: Rain storm 6:54 pm. Mike is watching TV (which means he’s just changing channels) and Stacy is scouring the computer for proof of life.
Stacy: “Why don’t dogs purr?”
Mike: “That’s a stupid question.”
S: “I’m serious. Cats purr. Why don’t dogs?”
M: “Just because they walk on 4 legs and have a tail doesn’t mean they’re the same”
S: “But they’re sort of the same. Domesticated and all. They both have fur.”
M: “You’re being silly. Why don’t horses purr?”
S: ………
S: “Good point.”
M: (several minutes later) "Why don't cats bark?"
S: (thinking to herself) "Hah! I got him thinking NOW!!!)

I think that’s funny. Mike has now officially unseated the butcher as the Master Debater.

BTW - I just figured out how to post pictures! So here is one of Mike and the 14-ton pool table.

The Importance of Being Ernst..or..Back to Jaime

Strange times indeed in Nicaragua....
Last week I went to Chinandega for a dentist meeting. I like to call it a meeting instead of an appointment because the latter sounds so....demanding. A meeting is mutual, goes both ways. Anyway, I was supposed to get my teeth whitened and had already told EVERYONE I met that I was going to look gorgeous (sort of like when it's your birthday, and you tell everyone it's your birthday...but you're like, 5, instead of 43 and telling everyone about your teeth...sort of). So I go to the meeting, we meet, and I think they mixed the chemicals wrong because I look like me, not whiter, brighter, or even sexier, just like plain old me. Do-over! Trying again next week...will let all know how it goes (like you have a choice?!) So we run into Jaime who is selling his pool table. Now, I don't want a pool table...we live on the beach! The only thing that lasts here is plastic. I used to say that it is a testament to the human body that we can survive in this environment and not have our eyeballs fall out, or mold grow in any of our 2000 places. And I still say that. Back to Jaime.
Jaime needs a little money for a project, so we offer to buy the practically useless slate and felt-topped table that weighs 14 tons. That means we have to transport this thing to Mechapa on The Worst Roads Known to Humankind. No small feat. While talking with Jaime, like a meeting, really, we are lamenting on how slow things are all around Nicaragua. We both agree that the photo on the cover of the newspaper showing the masked hoodlums shooting mortars at the Holiday Inn in Managua was probably NOT a good thing. Mortars? They aren't really mortars...more like bottle rockets... So here is the back story, straight from Jaime and verified by me through 2.5 independent sources (unnamed, and one of them was really drunk, so he's only a .5 independent source.)
The FSLN was having a march, they like marching, so they shut down a bunch of streets in Managua. But, on that same day, around the same time, the Other Guys decided to have a meeting (not with their dentist or Jaime) so they went to the Holiday Inn. The marchers, upon hearing that the Other Guys were at the Holiday Inn Managua decided to stop by and say hi, which is why the Police Dudes didn't think twice about letting them do just that...they said they wanted to say hi. They couldn't get in the hotel, so instead they tried to get the Other Guys attention. Now, in the movies, this is commonly done by throwing a small stone at the window closest to where your friend is. But the hotel is really big, so they decided to use their bottle-rocket thingies to tap the windows, get the Other Guys attention and wave hello. That's it!! End of story!! No attack on tourists, just a crappy photo showing a thousand wrong words. Your source for Nicaragua Travel Information - Right here, people.
So back to Jaime. Quick...how many men does it take to load a pool table? Answer - 14. 6 to drag it across the floor and ruin the wood on one side, 4 to yell at them, help them navigate out of the room and onto the road to the waiting Chariot, 2 to stand there and watch (always an important part of the project) 1 to buy the beer and 1 more to drink the beer and hand out beers. Don't bother to go back and check the math. For those of you paying attention, yes, the Chariot is back in action. Re-built engine, new transmission, clutch - it would be new if not for it's intentionally deceiving outward appearance of 'I could fall apart in seconds.'
So back to Jaime. While there, Ernst, our extern from Austria, shows up with Dead-Finger Tim. That's right, Ernst is from Austria, where it is customary to work for a couple of weeks and then go on vacation. Dead-Finger Tim is on our motorcycle because we bought his a couple of weeks ago because he needed help on a project he is working on. Tim left his 2 puppies here whilst he vaca's with Ernst. They are getting along fine with the 3 cats that got sent in a box here from Tina in Jiquilillo after her dogs almost ate one. She needed help on her Cat Project so we took them in. Current count - 32 legs, 16 eyes, 8 tails, and more nipples than we could count (that's not my joke...that's Leonards' joke.)
OK, so back to Jaime.
We get the pool table loaded up and head back up to Mechapa on the Worst Roads Known to Humankind. Surpisingly, the 14-ton table makes it in one piece. That's the end of that story really, Mike is having a meeting with it downstairs right now. Can't even make anything up. Just being honest.
Despite the strange quiet that has befallen us for the past 2 weeks (it started when Leonard showed up....hmmmmmmmm) Mechapa has been a-buzz with activity. The Road to Nowhere was completed, sort of, in record time. It starts just outside of our main entrance and goes all the way to....nowhere. Venecia, really, but there isn't much in Venecia, so there you go. The interesting other story here is that Mechapa is also a-buzz with buzz. Property values have gone up, the price of beans went up, and it feels like at any minute a bus-load of tourists is going to show up - San Juan del Sur style. I really hope not, of course, but it has been sort of slow since Leonard arrived.
Hopefully Ernst will come back for vacation some time before it's time to leave. As for me, I've got a meeting to attend downstairs.

Smart, or just plain genius?!

Thursday night at 1 am is the perfect time to come up with a menu. It used to be that 5:30 am was the perfect time to come up with a menu (think sitting straight up in bed shouting…I got it! Ensalada Cosiguina!) and this is where we are at….
Brunch, some Sunday soon: buttermilk biscuits served with mango jelly and jalapeno jelly, bread and butter pickles, garlic sour pickles, cheese, mango yogurt and vegetable cream cheese.
All, of course, homemade in my little kitchen. A friend from Canada dropped of Rennet (bet you wish you had a dime for every time you heard THAT!) so I am feeling extra motivated. I have been looking forward to making cheese for a while, so I am almost set. Tonight’s menu sprung initially from the light sleep panic mode of where I was going to get cheesecloth. Coffee filters…too small. Fit them over a colander….too flimsy, my cheese might fall through a gap. Sacrifice an article….that’s it – go through the old closet and pick out a similar type of fabric, cut it into a circle. Linen, polyester, cotton, a blend? Not sure yet, but I did come up with a couple ditties to write in magic marker on my frankencloth….”Judge me not, by how I look, judge instead, by how I cook” or “Judge me not, in your haste, judge instead, by my taste.” I figure I can start a whole new line of Ugly Cookware. You know, everybody has these beautiful matching sets in their kitchen colors with pretty handles and all. My line will look like most of it was bought at the second hand “used American goods store” because, well, most of it was. Throw in some big old coffee cans with plywood followers for cheese making, mixed jars and containers for pickles and jellies saved from a day of shopping last month. Match it up with my cookbook “F Martha, I live in Nicaragua” and some slightly misshapen plastic cookware…it will all come together is a collective statement against order, the system, the MAN!
Sunday Brunch, cheesecloth, and a cookware revolution….thank God I don’t have Ambien.