Gotta Go to Internet Rehab, and I say No, no. no!

Fellow luddites, hear me well. Until your ISP (that’s Internet Service Provider, I think) limits your monthly data usage to 1G, you have NEVER appreciated the sublime ignorance an unlimited service allows.  Of course, to me, it seems like yesterday that a 1G digital camera was simply miraculous.

This morning, I found a “data usage” button on my phone, and thought it might be prudent to see what little bit of my monthly allowance I had used in one day to that point. Shock and disbelief! I have used – 578 MB, which I am told, constitutes over half my pittance until 1 June!  Oh dear, there goes my daily New York Times crossword puzzle and my 80% solve rate. There goes my Amazon Prime music service that has provided me hours of pleasure, not to mention Spottify. No more leisurely browsing through book lists on Amazon to feed my addition to reading. No more Scrabble with my smart siblings who beat me more than I care to admit. And Facebook? That big time-gobbler is now on a starvation diet.

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I am going to try and limit myself to 15 minutes online to post pre-written blog entries and letters. I tried to download the NYT, so that I could read it offline, but it didn’t work. Suggestions, anyone? One fucking G, say I.

Planting by the Moon

On the local front, Byron has been busily planting the dozens of hydrangeas and saplings my landlady left here, root balls bagged in tiny black “bolsitas,” some of which have perished waiting to be planted. A couple of days ago, Byron refused to plant anything because the moon was not right. Today, the moon must be smiling, because he is digging holes and planting trees now.

A gorgeous oriole thinks his reflection in my window is a rival. He managed to get thru a hole in the screen in the second bedroom and could not find his way out. He was pretty terrified when I came into the room to take down the screen, but he flew out almost immediately. Great to see such a pretty creature up close.

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The vet bill for Little Susie is growing. He has done all he can, and it is up to her to recover her appetite and get her system rebooted. I am giving her raw beaten egg with an injector, and plan to make some sort of rice and chicken liquid in the blender.  She is just skin and bone now, and I do not feel confident she’ll make it. I nursed another dog thru parvo, and she survived. Awful virus.

Must fly. So much to say. So few MBs…

Watching the Birdies

Bird watching must be pretty spectacular in Nicaragua. There are some 700 species of birds, many with absurdly brilliant plumage and songs that range from melodic thrush notes to wildly raucous braying, and all manner of whistles in-between. Here on the Pacific coast, the sight and sounds of shore birds are largely missing, I have discovered. The occasional tern flies low above the water, but I have seen nary a gull or crane to date.

Around the house, there are Nicaraguan grackles who, like their northern brethren, possess a wide range of sounds, including slide whistles and throaty growls. Yesterday, I heard a softly tuneful song from the tree by the veranda, and when a breeze ruffled the leaves, I caught a glint of bright orange. It turned out to be a spot-breasted oriole. Here is an image from a Nica bird internet site:

And the grackle:

This pic is spot-on. Our grackles strut about the veranda and look up constantly. What are they looking for?

I packed my binoculars, but they were not in the box noted in my inventory. I hope they turn up, but since every single box was opened and perused at customs, I wonder if I'll see them again. There are numerous parks and trails for birders, and I hope to get to some of them over time.

A few posts ago, I mentioned that I was 'thrilled' to see Hellman's mayonnaise at the PriceSmart. I have since learned that Hellman's is widely available, especially in little foil pouches that hold about a cup of my second favorite condiment.  This was not the case when I spent time in Nicaragua 27 years ago. During Reagan's embargo, there was only one store in Managua that carried U.S. products like Hellman's, the diplomatic store that only accepted U.S. dollars, and catered to international embassy personnel. For almost everything else that was not produced domestically, the Sandinista government turned to the Soviet Union. Toilet paper was hard to come by, and what was available was rough indeed. I lost my toothbrush once, and the replacement was Soviet-made and big enough to brush an elephant's choppers. Rather like sticking a small hairbrush in your mouth.

A couple of nights ago, the electricity went out in late afternoon. There are scheduled outages in every department of Nicaragua, both for maintenance and conservation. There simply is not enough power to meet the growing need. There is even a website where one can check the schedule and plan accordingly, but this particular outage was of the unscheduled variety. Mike and Beth invited me to accompany them to a newish pizza parlor just down the road. They bake with a wood-fired oven, and would have plenty of cold beer. Off we went in the pitch darkness with our flashlights. The pizza place was also dark, but open for business, and we were the only customers. It is quite a nice little place, with little wooden tables under a pavilion. The pizza was crisp and delicious, and the beer was heavenly cold.

When we returned to the house, the power magically appeared and normal life resumed.