All About "Stuff" ... and Other Nonsense

        “Oh, the days dwindle down, to a precious few…” as the old torch song goes. And so it is with us as we wade through boxes, sell possessions and make plans for our last month here in the States before we return to Costa Rica and our idyllic life there. We thought we had a plan: We would each pack one large and one medium suitcase as checked bags, then have our two smaller carry-ons. But with each new box we brought from the barn, we found something else of value that one or the other of us felt would be “so handy” to have in Costa Rica. My three-piece set of mixing bowls, my old reliable food processor, the Emeril skillet, Layne’s good camera equipment, the whetstone and the good knives, the toaster, more clothes, more shoes, even perhaps my cowboy boots for possible horseback riding… and on and on it goes. Now we look at the suitcases and the pile of “stuff” and we realize we may have over-estimated our space. Some of this will just have to go back to the barn. One thing we learned in our three-month stay in Costa Rica is just how much “stuff” you can do without.

         Despite the pressures of packing and planning, we do find time to enjoy our life here. On Sunday, we went to see “The Pirates of Penzance” at the local community theater in Roseville. The old Gilbert & Sullivan comic opera was well staged with good choreography and the acting was quite credible, for a G & S comedy at least. Some of the vocalists were really spectacular, particularly the female lead whose operatic skills were stunning. Still, the pratfalls and campy script made the whole thing seem a little over-done. We almost left at intermission but fortunately, stuck it out as the second act was more entertaining than the first. When we got back to our car parked in the sun, the heat was incredible. Our temperature gauge read 122 degrees! It must have been that hot inside but as we drove back to Auburn, it slowly dropped to 104 as the outside reading. It made us long for the halcyon weather on our mountain outside Atenas.

         Between gardening duties and cat-sitting, we do stay busy here at Ruth’s. Happily, the “phantom cat” Abby has finally befriended us and now even sits on my lap and rubs up against my legs asking for pets. This is not to say he is altogether at ease with us here, but he does seem to have become desperate enough for human contact as to allow our attentions. Most of the time he still stays out of sight behind the big chair in the living room. Socks, on the other hand, has accepted us as substitute slaves, meowing loudly when it’s time for his curry-comb grooming each evening. Gardening chores have expanded with Layne’s desire to put in a full drip system for Ruth’s raised gardens in back. Today he laid the main ½” line, carefully hiding the tubing under rocks as it made the corner past the small fish pond and then began adding the ¼” lines to each plant. It’s a time-consuming project and a hot one as the sun reaches its zenith. My gardening job was weeding, not something I’m especially good at since I often confuse a weed with a treasured plant. When that was done, I retired to the kitchen to cook up a batch of hummingbird syrup. After all, we can’t let those little guys find a neighbor’s sugar source, now can we?

         Another task that fell to me today was cutting back the artichoke plant, which has provided Ruth with 8 or 10 sizeable fruit this year. The plant was a monster with long fronds and a trunk the size of a small tree. As I cut away the leaves, I discovered that one fruit had been lost in the foliage and had gone on to flower. Well! If you’ve never seen an artichoke flower, you’ve missed something pretty spectacular. Hundreds of tiny bright purple stalks about an inch tall, clustered together in the heart of the opened artichoke petals. And the fragrance? It was a musky sweet odor, extremely sensual in its depth and drama. What a delightful surprise!

         At least some of our efforts to unload ourselves of possessions has paid off: we sold the Prius! My beloved hybrid went to the sister of a good friend and she was delighted to get it. After delivering it to her doorstep up the road in Nevada City, we took a walk along Independence Trail above the Yuba River. Developed some years ago by a father for his wheelchair-bound daughter, it follows an old gold mining flume, the now-defunct Excelsior Canal, built in 1859 to carry water to a gold-mining operation 25 miles away. Mostly level and offering views of the Yuba River below, it took us through oak woodlands above the river valley. One dramatic feature was a huge boulder arrangement looming over the trail. My darling husband took it upon himself to shoulder the gigantic rock so I could safely walk underneath. My hero! 

"Cat Bites Pit Bull" and Other Tales from Auburn, CA

July 3, 2010 

         Well, we’re beginning to wonder how anyone ever acquires legal residency in Costa Rica. I’m reminded of Lucy and the football: every time Charlie Brown runs to kick the ball down the field, Lucy pulls it away so he kicks open space and falls on his butt. 

In my last post, you’ll recall, our attorney Monika asked us to scan the passport pages where Costa Rican authorities had stamped our exit date. Only one problem - no stamp! Not only no Costa Rican stamp on our most recent departure, but also no exit stamps from Costa Rica for any of our three trips there. Only once, back in 2007 did the United States Immigration clerk at the Houston airport stamp our passports upon our arrival from Costa Rica. When we returned from Costa Rica a few weeks ago, the Los Angeles Immigration officials once again did not stamp our passports. Go figure.

          But since Monika seemed to think that we should have been stamped somewhere, and indeed we had been stamped by Australian officials going to and returning from that country in 2005, I called the U.S. Department of State and spoke to the fellow in charge of immigration services at Los Angeles International Airport. He explained that they no longer routinely stamp returning passports of U.S. citizens due to complaints by frequent travelers that their passport books were filling up too quickly. So we are once again in limbo, waiting to hear from Monika how we can prove to the Costa Rican Immigration Department that we are here, not there!

         But indeed, here we are. And although the Costa Rican residency challenges are a bother, we are enjoying our temporary residency here in Auburn, California. The two cats in our care are a study in contrasts: Socks is verbal, friendly, often joins us in bed at night and hangs around during the day sleeping under a bush in the front yard or on the living room floor, sprawled on her back for some belly rubs. Socks also requires daily grooming with, of all things, a horse currycomb!

         Abby, on the other hand, is the “phantom cat.” The first few days we saw no sign of her and began to worry that she had freaked out at the strangers in the house with all our bags and boxes and new noises, and simply run away, never to be seen again. But slowly, we began to catch a glimpse of her scurrying down the hall to the litter box and venturing to the bowls of food and water. Last night, for just a brief moment, she even jumped up on the bed with us, her little collar bell jingling softly near the foot of the bed. Hopefully, by the time we leave here at the end of the month, she will have relaxed into a friendlier mode.

         Socks proved her mettle last night, however, when a smallish brown Pit Bull came trotting into our backyard, much to our surprise and alarm, although we quickly realized he was not at all aggressive. Apparently lost, he had wandered through the gate we’d left open in hopes of luring Abby inside. But when Socks caught sight of this alien creature in her space, she turned into a hissing dragon, all claws and fearsome anger. Attacking his backend, she chased the poor animal out the gate before I could grab Socks and take her inside the house. Last I saw, the chastised Pit Bull was ambling off into the open field nearby, looking back over his shoulder at the house with the attack cat.

         Abby and Socks have every right to be tense, however, as we have inevitably disrupted their routine. With every trip to our jam-packed barn, we return to Ruth’s garage with more boxes to sort through for more giveaways, perhaps to sell or to take back to Costa Rica with us. It’s a messy process. There are things we missed in Costa Rica or found to be expensive to buy there. A toaster, for instance, is pretty pricey in Atenas, running $35 to $40 or so. We do have a good toaster here, stored away. But with its bulk, it will take up a full corner of a suitcase, which will cost us $20 or so to take onboard the airlines. And flying from Portland to Chicago on one airline and then Chicago to San Jose, CR, on another, the cost of taking that suitcase full of toasters and some of the other seemingly trivial items, will likely run the same $40! Perhaps it makes more sense to buy one down there. Decisions, decisions. As mundane as that may seem, we face such choices with every box. No wonder the cats are spooked by these bustling strangers.

         But most early mornings we manage to get out for a walk. We’ve been exploring a beautiful local park nearby, Auburn Regional Park. This is a well-maintained oasis here in California where, thanks to the state’s budget woes, most state-run parks are closed down and quickly falling into disrepair. The large creek-fed lake that occupies the center of Auburn Regional is circled by an asphalt walking path which meanders under large oak trees with benches, BBQ pits and picnic areas along the way. Mallard ducks with their shiny teal green heads share the lake with dozens of wild geese, primarily Canadian and Snow geese, whose loud honks greet any dog so brave as to enter the water near them. Even pint-sized fishermen (see photo below) try their luck here in catching bass or bluegill. The park offers sports fields for all, from basketball to tennis, soccer to slow-pitch baseball and even a highly rated “disc golf course,” which is a fancy term for Frisbee. Located only a few blocks from our house-sitting base, Layne and I find the park to be ideal for exercise, people- and bird-watching.

          Although we are enjoying life here, we still like to keep in touch with events in Costa Rica, and we do this through several of the English-language newspapers available online. TheCostaRicaNews.com is a weekly publication and a relative newcomer to the field, having been founded only three years ago, but they are growing and have some worthwhile reporting, particularly on eco-tourism, medical tourism and information for expats. AMCostaRica.com is another English-language source for news, but features an abundance of prominent advertising on each page, a little garish for my taste. The oldest Gringo-focused news publication is the venerable TicoTimes.net. Unfortunately, to get complete reporting, one must subscribe. InsideCostaRica.com provides perhaps the best news coverage free of charge. Some of the many blogs written by expats in Costa Rica also offer a personal perspective on happenings in their part of the country.

         But there’s nothing like being in Paradise in person. So we are definitely counting down the days until our northern sojourn is over and we can return to the vida muy tranquilo that we have in Costa Rica.

         Happy Fourth of July to all who value freedom! 

More Residency Drama with Time-Out for Golf!

June 27, 2010

         Well, we vagabonds have been on the move this week and have only today “landed” at our next temporary shelter: our Wisconsin-bound friend Ruth’s charming bungalow and serene garden in Auburn, California. (See photo at right of Ruth, Elizabeth W., and Layne) For the next month, we’ll care for her two cats, take out the trash, pull a few weeds and water the backyard plants. Oh, and feed the hummingbirds! Tough job, as they say…!

         Layne and I picked up Janine at the airport last Tuesday evening following our two-week stint house-sitting for her, then left the next morning, heading for the San Francisco Bay Area. We would be staying a few days there with our long-time friend Patricia, who recently moved into a lovely home in a suburb near Mount Diablo. A vivacious blonde with an infectious smile, Patricia and I have been close friends for over 25 years, watching our sons grow up and ourselves grow … uh, more mature. We’ve both gone through good times and bad and have always been there for each other. She’s a very special friend. Between coffee in the morning and cocktails in the evenings, we enjoyed a great visit. We even took a drive up into the foothills near Angels Camp to visit with her son Brad, his wife and two cool kids. Living on 20 acres in a rustic cabin, they enjoy a bucolic lifestyle caring for 4 horses, 3 dogs, 2 cats and several chickens. Reminded me of Costa Rica - all but the weather: It will get cold there in the winter.

         Speaking of cold, on Friday Layne and I took off for San Francisco to enjoy a round of golf with my son Damian and grandson Kai. It was summer in San Francisco - cold, you know - but it was a delight to be out with all three of my favorite guys. I even managed to hit a few good balls. Kai seemed to be a natural and Damian, who stays strong working as a firefighter, was hitting them into the stratosphere. Unfortunately, at about a mile high, too often they picked up a headwind and sliced off to the right. Also, a minor detail, the Pacific Ocean was often on our right. ‘Nuff said. Poor Layne had already played 18 holes earlier in the day with his best golf rival and good friend Bobby so he ran out of steam early, but he still beat me. We all decided to cut off about halfway through and enjoy a delicious Thai dinner. It made for a wonderful day for me!

          Of course, the residency drama continues unabated. After celebrating getting our papers authenticated by the Costa Rican consulate in Los Angeles and sent off to our attorney Monika, we learned from her of a new requirement: a police clearance letter from a court in Costa Rica! This letter must be obtained before she files our papers for us; otherwise, she would be required to wait 10 days before filing again. We’re still awaiting word from her as to how to fulfill this requirement from here in the U.S.

         An additional problem arose in trying to wire money to pay for the translation into Spanish of our documents. When dealing with the transfer of funds internationally, it is vital to have all account numbers recorded correctly and, equally important, to know which number is a routing number or a bank number and which is the actual account number into which the funds should go. The reason this is so critical is that wire transfers are just like cash -- once the funds hit the account, they are negotiable. Transpose a digit and you just handed your money to the wrong person! Our problem was that the personnel in our small bank were unsure which number was the account of the “beneficiary bank,” the final recipient, and which was the number of the “intermediary bank,” the U.S. bank that would convey the funds to Costa Rica and which was actually Monika’s account. But one advantage of living in a small town is having a personal banker. Our local Wells Fargo bank staff worked with us for an hour or more to be sure we were wiring the right amount to the right account.

         So with perseverance and a lot of help, we finally wired the funds and once again heaved that proverbial sigh of relief, only to learn in the next email of two more requirements. Monika had visited the Immigration Department and learned that to prove that we are out of the country (and not in violation of the 90-day rule for tourists), we must scan the passport pages where our passports were stamped at the airport showing when we left the country and send that to Monika. Next, we learned that even if our documents have been filed by the time we return in August, we still must have a round-trip ticket in hand showing we can leave within the 90-day limit just in case residency is not granted. This seemed clear enough -- until her next sentence, which says that despite this requirement, Immigration said that we should not feel that we must leave the country at the end of 90 days, IF our file is “active, complete or being efficiently attended.”

         As Monika says in her email, “there seems to be a contradiction here.” Yeah, ya think?  Welcome to Costa Rica!

          

Memories of Star Thistle and Cardiac Hill

         Sitting out on the expansive deck of our friend Janine’s house here in Cherry Acres, I had just settled in to draft this post when across the wooded back area flies a Cooper’s Hawk, its banded wings and distinctive long tail gliding silently across the grassy terrain beneath the branches of dozens of Blue Oak trees. Our house-sitting chores here are minimal: water the nasturtiums and make sure the house is locked when we leave. It’s a lovely home, beautifully situated on five acres in the woodsy area outside of Cool, California; we feel fortunate indeed to spend a couple of weeks here looking after it for our friend while she visits her sister in New Mexico.

         When Janine returns early this week, we move to another house-sitting situation for another friend, a comfortable home located in the small town of Auburn. There we will have the pleasant task of caring for two cats, Socks and Abby, our friend Ruth’s beloved pair of yellow felines, as well as looking after her garden and enjoying some of the bounty thereof. Since Ruth’s home is much easier to find than Janine’s more remote property out here beyond the American River Canyon, Layne and I plan to try and sell some of our “stuff” on Craigslist from there. We particularly hope to sell a car, a ping-pong table and perhaps a few pieces of furniture now stored in the small barn on our leased country home near here. Renting a furnished house in Costa Rica has taught us just how little we really need to be comfortable so it’s time to continue lightening our load.

          One real benefit to house-sitting here in our old neighborhood this summer is being able to go for walks along familiar trails. Cronan Ranch paths are just as picturesque as ever and the route we fondly labeled “Cardiac Hill” still has us huffing and puffing before reaching the top. Once there, the view is pretty spectacular: rolling golden hills leading down to the South Fork of the American River. Instead of fields of coffee plants or banana trees as in Costa Rica, of course, here we have acres of poison oak and a noxious, invasive weed called Star Thistle, which has taken over this part of California. The paved street behind the firehouse in Cool is another favorite walk, often populated with hikers and their dogs because it is not open to traffic. It connects up with Knickerbocker Trail, a nine-mile route that is part of a famous equestrian endurance race each year, the 100-mile Tevis Cup Ride, so we often see the occasional horseback rider conditioning their mount for the long contest. In fact, in years past, when we had two horses, Layne and I frequently rode that trail ourselves, enjoying the scenery and the tranquility of an outing on horseback. 

         Still, for all of the pleasant reminders of our former life here, we both long for the easy-going lifestyle we enjoyed in Costa Rica. Although our schedule has eased considerably since sending off our residency papers to our attorney last week, we can’t completely avoid the hectic stresses of life in the U.S., either a quick trip to the store (by car, of course) or an important phone call to return, an appointment to keep. The slower pace and reduced pressure of Pura Vida lures us back with every passing day.

         But besides the sheer pace of life, there are other contrasts with Costa Rica as well. On our walks, Layne and I have commented on how few birds we hear, compared to the continuous cacophony of birdcalls in Costa Rica. Even now as I sit here on the deck, surrounded by pine trees, oak trees and bushes of all sorts, I hear only a few bird chirps and a couple of dogs barking at some distance. There are no children playing in the streets like in Alto del Monte, our neighborhood in Costa Rica, no chickens running loose or horses tied to trees. In fact, we seldom see our neighbors at all; for the most part, life seems to happen indoors here, out of sight. There is wildlife here, however. Even as I wrote this paragraph, a gorgeous redtail fox went sauntering by, stopping briefly to look me over!

         Still, we know the summer will pass quickly and we plan to enjoy every moment we can with friends and family here before heading back to Costa Rica in late August. By then, we expect to be ready for a return to Paradise, complete with crazy drivers, rainy season storms and all those bugs and bats and butterflies! 

Embossed and Authenticated: Ready to Go!

Sunday, June 13, 2010

         “On the road again,” as Willie Nelson would say… literally. With all of our residency documents safely in the briefcase, properly certified by the California Secretary of State or the other states of origin, we are heading south to Los Angeles today. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we’ll be at the Costa Rican Consulate to submit everything for authentication. Wish us luck! If all goes well, the authenticated documents will be on their way on Tuesday to our attorney in Costa Rica. She will submit our completed paperwork as soon as she can get an appointment with Immigration. If she can move our residency process along, we should be legal to stay beyond the three-month tourist limit when we return in August.

         We left home this morning and turned on “Ilsa,” our trusty German-made Garmin GPS device for her advice on the “fastest” route to LA. We’ve come to rely on this amazing instrument to lead us down less-traveled perhaps, but quicker roads to reach our destinations. Today she surprised us once again by directing us off Interstate 80, which we would usually follow into Sacramento to the intersection with Interstate 5 South, sending us instead down Highway 99, the older route through the mid-section of the state. Now we cruise past mile after mile of cultivated farmland, much of it in vineyards to produce barrels of California wine. Other fields are in orchards of peaches or cherries, almonds, pecans, onions or corn. Lots of corn. It is only with the water from Northern California, of course, flowing steadily southward through the California Aqueduct, that this land is now so fertile and prolific. Otherwise, we’d be driving through a desert.

         But that reality reflects good news and bad news. Obviously, it’s wonderful that California produces so much important foodstuff for the country and indeed the world, but it’s tragic that rivers and lakes up north have been diverted so dramatically that some areas, such as the Owens Valley, face water shortages each year and salmon and other wild fish species have dwindled to drastically low levels, their traditional runs reduced to less than 10% of normal numbers, according to a 2008 report by Robert T. Lackey of Oregon State University. In February of this year, an article in the SFGate.com website cited the lowest number of Chinook salmon ever recorded in California rivers during the fall of 2009 run, only 39,530 salmon returned compared to 87,940 just two years earlier, that already an historically low number. Central Valley agribusiness interests argue that they need water from the Sacramento Delta to grow their crops but commercial and sport fishermen argue that salmon runs have diminished “in exact concert with a 16 percent increase of Delta water diversions over the last decade.”

         The potential for desert is clear when I look over at the wrinkled and undulating foothills of the Coast Range, their barren grasslands already bleached golden brown in the hot California sunshine here in early June. Just across the road stretch acres of green, a man-made oasis of farmland in this otherwise arid region.

         Fast forward: It is now Tuesday, two days later. My plan to finish this Sunday night was foiled by problems at our hotel in Los Angeles’ Chinatown. When we arrived about 6:30 p.m., we were tired from our drive, ready to relax there at the Best Western Dragon Gate Inn and planning a nice Chinese dinner out. Instead, the front desk clerk said their rooms were sold out! After a trip back to the car for my computer, I showed him our confirmation email and on that basis insisted that we deserved a room. He insisted that they had none. Staying calm, I asked for the manager. After looking over the unambiguous confirmation email, he proceeded to labor over their records, looking for cancellations, trying hard to find us a room. At long last, he succeeded and we got settled in. Our dinner out at the Plum Tree Inn nearby was late but delicious as we splurged on Bombay Sapphire martinis to accompany Crispy Duck and Beef with Broccoli. Excellent! 

         On Monday morning, after a breakfast of Chinese leftovers, we drove a few blocks to the Costa Rican Consulate and presented our papers. After paying $200 in fees ($40 per document), we were told to wait “a few minutes.” Time passed as we read the entire LA Times and then we began to worry. What could be wrong? Was something out of order, incomplete, suspicious-looking?!  But no, after almost an hour, the young woman returned, apologizing for the delay, explaining that only one consul was in the office so it had taken longer than usual.

         Hurrah! All stamped, embossed, signed by the official and ready to FedEx to Monika, which we did today. I was amazed to learn that FedEx offers no insurance for parcels and, despite the value to us given all we’ve gone through to obtain these precious documents, we could only declare a value of $1.00, the price of the paper itself! Plus, the shipping cost was almost $100 to send it to Costa Rica. When we add it all up, this has been a rather expensive process. But at least the package is now on its way and we can relax and enjoy the rest of our summer in the States, starting with golf tomorrow! 

Down to the Wire!

June 8, 2010

We’re back in California and steadily moving toward the finish line in our race for residency in Costa Rica. When we picked up our mail yesterday following a 12-hour drive down from Portland, we were happy to find our marriage certificate from Nevada, stamped and embossed by the Secretary of State, as well as my official Texas birth certificate authenticated by the Houston Costa Rican consulate. Now all we need is that police clearance letter and we’ll be ready to take our California documents to the Secretary of State’s office for certification. After that, we’ll make a drive down to Los Angeles to hand-carry everything to the Costa Rica consulate there, which has jurisdiction over the western states.

         It seems like a long, complicated process and in some ways, it is. But we realize that the clear instructions we have received from our attorney, Monika Valerio de Ford, have made it so much easier for us than for others working without the benefit of an experienced guide. In this month’s Association of Residents of Costa Rica (ARCR) newsletter, in fact, we read an article that mentions the frequency of papers lost or misdirected between “the Consul, the Courier, and Migracion.” These mistakes can cost in both time and money. When we face issues such as getting a document, then having it notarized and then sent to a Secretary of State for certification, we cannot imagine how others manage all this by mail or a courier service. Going in person is easier for us perhaps, since most of our documents are from places where we want to go anyway (locales near family or friends), but the knowledge that we are handing our papers to the correct agency and getting them back with proper dates and stamps on them provides us with great confidence that our final residency papers will be in order.

         Even with our attorney’s help, confusion still reigns when you learn of a policy from one supposedly reliable source that is in conflict with a policy from another equally reliable official. Case in point: the police clearance letter. We remain unclear as to whether we should append fingerprints and a photograph with this document as we were told in Houston at the consulate there or whether the letter itself is sufficient. After all, the very first step in this process was fingerprinting at the police department in San Jose, Costa Rica, last spring. Those, we were told, would be sent to Interpol so perhaps another set is needed by Immigration. We plan to have them done again here in California, just in case.

         Another significant detail still in limbo is whether a local police letter will suffice or if a state level, or even federal level letter is preferred by Costa Rican Immigration officials. Relying again on information offered by the clerk in Houston, we were led to believe that a local letter was inadequate; we should obtain a state agency-issued letter. Today, however, in conversation with the Costa Rican consulate in Los Angeles, where our documents will actually be considered for authentication, the kind woman on the phone indicated that sometimes a federal letter was viewed more favorably by the Immigration Department but she couldn’t confirm that one was better than the other. So much for definitive instructions!

         This blog went unfinished last night so today I will add a short update from this morning’s visit to the sheriff’s office for fingerprinting. Other than the cost -- $88 for our two sets! -- the trip was pleasant enough. Like many people we meet and share our plans with, the technician was curious about and somewhat envious of our Costa Rican adventure.  When Layne described our lovely rented chalet with views of the Pacific and a wonderful ocean breeze, her face softened into that faraway look of unrequited tropical dreams. Perhaps one day she, too, will make that longed-for trip to her own place in the sun. For me, just talking about our Pura Vida in Costa Rica made me want the time here in the States to hurry on by so we can return to the balmy breezes and sunny skies of our adopted land. 

Paperwork and Plates of Shrimp!

         My apologies, dear readers, for the long delay in my reporting but visiting with my mom means a full schedule. Our week-long road trip is over and we have returned to San Angelo for the rest of my visit. The residency tasks in Austin and Houston went surprisingly well. The Texas Secretary of State’s office took my documents, printed out the certification page and a receipt for the fee and I was out of there in fifteen minutes! That left plenty of time for a drive around town to see the State Capitol and my old alma mater, the University of Texas, before we headed to Houston for the next stop on my residency process, the Costa Rican Consulate. That visit also went smoothly, other than my forgetting to make copies: the original and one copy for the Consulate, a copy for our attorney in Costa Rica and one for our own files.

         When I returned with my Xeroxed documents, however, another woman was in conversation with the receptionist regarding the necessary paperwork. She was obviously distressed and frustrated, having traveled from Costa Rica to Dallas, then to Boston, back to Dallas and was now in Houston, only to learn that she did not, in fact, have the correct documents. The receptionist was explaining to her that the clearance letter she had presented was insufficient for residency purposes because it was only from local authorities, not state level. In addition, it lacked a photo of her plus fingerprints. I listened to this information with great interest, as it had been our plan to obtain a police clearance letter from our local magistrate, the county sheriff. When my turn came, I questioned the Tica receptionist and learned that we must obtain a statewide clearance from an agency such as the California Department of Public Safety.

         When the receptionist left the room for a few minutes, I asked the woman ahead of me about her situation. It seems she had gone to Costa Rica four years ago to build a home and subsequently had a bad experience with the builder. Then, as the economy tanked and she couldn’t sell the house, she continued to live there as a “perpetual tourist,” only now deciding to seek residency. Based on some rather sketchy advice from a friend’s attorney in CR, she had traveled in person to obtain her various documents but with no car and limited information, she was stressed out and not feeling very happy about her quest for “Pura Vida.”

         In other residency news, Layne successfully paid his June bill for Caja, the national health insurance of Costa Rica, through the Banco Nacional website. Previously, we had been stymied in this effort and were concerned that perhaps our attorney Monika would have to pay it for us. Plus, questions remain as to whether Layne needed to join before getting residency, but he has the membership so it must be paid. It turned out that we were simply attempting to pay it too soon. Once the invoice appeared on the website, the payment process was easy. So we continue to move forward on pensionado residency and are optimistic that when we return in late August, we will be able to stay on past the 90-day limit.

         With my residency tasks out of the way, Mother and I headed for Galveston and a beachside vacation. My mom lived much of her younger life near the Gulf Coast. In fact, I was born in Alvin, a small town about 30 miles inland from the city and in my early childhood we often went to the beach for holidays. Mother has many fond memories of Galveston Island, and was curious to see what damage might still be evident from the disastrous Hurricane Ike of 2008. And she especially was looking forward to some good old Fried Shrimp, succulent and crispy, served with tartar and cocktail sauces.

         After checking into our beachfront hotel, we decided to take a Harbour Boat Tour, which offered a narration of the Port of Galveston’s colorful history as well as the prospect of seeing dolphins. With only four passengers onboard on this late afternoon excursion, Captain Blaine gave us personal attention and we saw several families of dolphins gamboling in the harbor waters. Quite a thrill! In response to my query, First Mate Chet recommended a popular and affordable place for seafood, Shrimp ‘n Stuff, a casual eatery that’s been around since 1976. So that evening found us pigging out on excellent fried shrimp and catfish, hush puppies and spicy potatoes. As I placed our order, I noticed a sign offering Soft Shell Crab, which I love, so I added one of those as well and it did not disappoint, its crunchy shell and tender flesh melting in my mouth.

         Still, Mother’s memories were focused on a landmark restaurant there called Gaido’s, well known for its excellent seafood as well as for the giant crab mounted on the roof. The sign below this enormous creature claims it was “Caught in Galveston Bay.” You know, they grow ’em big in Texas.

         So on our second day, we headed to Gaido’s for an elegant seafood lunch. We decided to share the crab cake that I was craving along with a seafood platter, which would offer all the tastes Mother especially wanted - shrimp, scallops and mahi-mahi. In placing the order, I asked our waitress for blackened mahi-mahi and fried shellfish. Unfortunately, it all arrived blackened! Mother was uncomfortable sending it back, and since it was quite delicious we just enjoyed the meal as it was. When Byron, the manager, visited our table late in the meal, I mentioned the mix-up and he apologized, explaining that the fry station and the blackened station in the kitchen were far apart, which is why they do not mix preparations. But he said, next time let him know and he would make it so.

          That evening, knowing Mother was disappointed, I called Casey Gaido’s, the more modest sister restaurant next door, explained what had happened at lunch and asked if we could get some fried shrimp to go. When I arrived to pick up our order, the very gracious manager Kevin gave it to us at no charge, along with two salads. As expected, it was scrumptious and satisfied Mother’s hunger for fried shrimp, at least for a couple of weeks!

         The rest of our week’s travels included a visit to the Johnson Space Center where we toured the huge facility and saw Mission Control Center, then on to Alvin where Mother paid a visit to an old friend that she’s known since high school. After that it was back on the road for the drive home, stopping off in historic Fredericksburg for lunch and a quick stop by Enchanted Rock, a fabulous pink granite batholith some 425 feet high. Time was too short for a hike up but I do hope to return next year to explore this amazing rock formation.

         All in all, it was a fun week of travel adventures with my mom and we both will remember it for years.