The Eyes of Cristo Rey: Nicaragua Missions Finale.
Blisters on my hands, sand in my teeth, sweat on my brow, tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat, pain in my heart and a deep sense of appreciation to the creator of heaven and earth.
My troubles have shrunk, my fear has subsided, my love increased and my faith stretched. I am amazed that so many come to serve and amazed at how many in this tiny portion of this big world have need. I am also amazed that despite their situation, they praise, they worship and they believe. Their possessions are small and their faith is large. Each and every one we served shared a story of prayer and faith and belief that their needs would be met, and that we were their answer of prayer.
I have listened to many missionaries, I have seen countless slide presentations and videos, I have fought back the tears and I have given to the cause. But until I went, until I smelt the stink of the dump and the unwashed, until I have tasted the sandy grit between my teeth, until I walked into their “house” and saw the dirt covered, smashed thin foam single mattress for the whole family on the floor, until I had looked into the live ,glistening, often red eyes, of the dirt streaked faces on the kids, I could not fully understand the need. They became more than a story, more than a video, they are real people struggling every day to survive.
Now that I know, I pray that I can continue to go and to make a small tiny difference in the vast field of need. For I know of no humbler, awe inspiring feeling than when you are told that you are an answer to prayer.
Short slide show: The Eyes of Cristo Rey
Spring Festival 2012
This past weekend was the 2012 Spring Festival sponsored and conducted by the Beach Community Church in Brasilito Costa Rica. Last year the event was held in Tamarindo at the skate park, this year the venue was moved to the Village in Brasilito. What is a spring festival you ask? Great question. The spring festival is an event geared towards younger kids; There are jumping castles, there are games, there is candy, there are free snacks, there is a message about the real meaning of Easter, and the grand finale is an Easter egg hunt. The best part, the whole event is free!
Livy helping to hide the eggs.
Wolfy, sneaking a peek at the eggs pre-event.
Jake taking notes for later.
Raffle for missions.
Dave bringing the pre-open pep talk and prayer.
This was the events sophomore year, and although I was unable to attends last years event, it would be hard to imagine it going much better. There were approximately 100 kids, and most of them brought at least one of their adults with them. There were great games like the Sponge Bob sponge toss, the Spiderman Castle, soccer kick, frisbee toss, Jonah and the whale fishing and on and on. There were fantastic arts and crafts, face painting, balloon animal creation, and magical egg designs. It was slightly chaotic at times, hot all the time, and fun, fun,fun.
The main event, the obstacle course bouncy castle.
Mike the balloon man getting ready for business.
Bud and Brock taking a moment from their labor to pose.
Soccer kick in action.
Dorian working the frisbee toss
Daniel and Dave making the rounds.
Jake in the obstacle course
Events like this don’t just make themselves, it takes months of planning, many volunteers, 50 to be exact, and commitment. But most of all it takes blood, sweat and tears. In Costa Rica it takes mostly sweat. It takes sweat to set up bouncing castles and obstacles that weigh 500 pounds, it takes sweat to pop a dozen raw bags of popcorn, it takes sweat to transfer a dozen wooden games to the venue, and it takes sweat to hide 1200 Easter eggs, lots of sweat. In fact enough sweat that most men came prepared with several shirts for the day, and we didn’t even sweat the small stuff!
GOOAAAALLLLL!
Tracy had one of the most popular games, which led to a lot of work.
Pastor Lyle leading a group game before bringing a short Easter message.
Tired baby.
But every single drop was worth it. Every swipe of the brow, sponged off bald head and wadded up soaking wet t-shirt was all worth it. Kids that have very few activities, kids that do not attend a church, kids that perhaps do not know the true meaning of Easter, each and every one of them heard a message of love from Pastor Lyle, and received some great story books. The best part, they brought their adults with them and they heard the message as well. It was easy to gauge the event by the flashes of smiles, the screams of joy and the sweaty painted faces running through the venue, and that was just the volunteers!
Gathering around for the Easter egg hunt, or gather as is more aptly described.
I think there's one right there.
Gatherer.
Seems like a lot of big kids in the 2 year old group.
We found one!
Look Mommy a pink one!
This guy is in full concentration mode.
little princess.
It was a taxing, tiring, tremendous day. The grand finale, the 1200 egg hunt was a bit of slightly organized chaos. Due to the amount of children, we instituted a 10 egg limit. The limit, much like the local speed limit, seemed to be more of a suggestion than the law that we had intended, as we saw great liberty taken as mounds of eggs departed in mother’s purses and bags. However, we were confident that everyone left with eggs, candy, and memories, some with a little more than others.
Lauren squatting for a better scan.
I think this makes number 10!
Hey daddy, is this an egg?
Daddy doing the final count.
Booty time!
At the end of the day a seed was planted and it was watered with the sweat of our brow. We can only pray that they take hold and grow a little until next year when we can water them once again, and perhaps plant a new field.
Time for fiesta.
A combination of a block party, state fair, rodeo and outdoor Latin Deejayed dance, that about describes the local fiestas.
Each and every town has fiesta at least once a year. It is the local culture. When the bull ring starts being erected from scratch with lumber that looks as if it was found on the side of the road, you know it is coming. It takes about a week to erect it, but it is always finished on time. Once the ring is up, the party starts, and they know how to party.
Jeremy, Braden and Dorian waiting for their turn in the bouncy castle.
The ride section
That blur is Olivia, Ben and Faith.
Go ahead and stand up during the ride little girl. It adds to the excitement.
The music is ear bleeding loud. The food is heart clogging good. The vendors are in your face with their trinkets. The rides, well the rides are the rejects, the ones deemed unsafe in the states, and they are fired up and rolling. But the highlight is the bull ring. Every night there is an event in the bull ring, and every night it is a spectacle.
In Costa Rica we call this driver's ed.
These boys did not know what they were getting into when they agreed to ride with Olivia.
I can see regret on their face. Note Olivia is the only one doing the spinning.
The sounds, the smells, the scenery, they all scream party. They beg you to dance, call for you to eat and to eat badly, and summon you to cheer on the bulls. There is the obligatory beer tent, or two, or three, just in case any false courage is needed. And there always at least three different DJ’s blasting out latin, hip swinging, head bobbing dance music, with competing throbbing beats, throughout the night.
Jake and Luke spinning as hard and as fast as they can.
Kassie and Faith following the boys.
As soon as the rides opened, the kids were ready to roll. At the Villa Real festival there were four larger rides, including a mini coaster, bumper cars, a spinning puking twisting thing, and an air spinner. The great thing is there are no lines, because on one waits in line, you just push forward, walk on, get on, and ride if you dare. The rides look like they are about two levels of safety below the typical backyard fair in the states. There are no safety fences, no chains or gates’; in fact to get into the bumper cars you have to literally run through the whirling bumper cars to get to your car and join in the fun. It adds a slight level of intensity. You can also high-five your friends on the air rides as they fly by you at mach 7, or let your little kids go ahead and stand during the kiddy airplane ride, or coaster ride, as we witnessed. So even though the ride itself may not be that intense, the freedom within adds unspeakable levels of intensity.
Don't let their sweet innocent looks fool you, these two were vicious in the bumper ring.
trinkets.
The big ride in action.
The food, it is fried, it is local, it smells good and it tastes good. There is lots of rice, lots of meat on sticks and a local favorite, the double fried chicken. Yep, the fried chicken sits under a heat lamp until you order. Then, to make sure it is hot and fresh for you, they fry it again. So you get a built-in drink with your chicken. We stuck to some churros and donuts with a touch of caramello.
Meat on a stick. Not sure what kind, but it smelled good.
An up and comer.
Homemade ramp to the homemade ring.
Dorian, Ben and Livy on the fence, Braden and Jeremy inside the ring. That's about right.
But the highlight is the rickety wooden ring of which the festival surrounds. Therein lies the loudest music, therein is the loudest announcer, and there is where the crowd gathers. Some unwilling to shell out 2000 colones for a wooden bleacher seat, bring their own chairs and set up station right outside the ring, peering through the wooden planks. Others climb on top of the fence posts, and some set up camp under the bleachers. Us tourists, the non-locals, well we shell out the money so we can sit in comfort and with a view. Exactly what were we viewing?
The bulls came out with a rider, and went back in without one.
This guy was especially mean. You can see he was intentional, thoughtful and brutal. Note the kids peering through the fence.
A bull ring littered with drunk college spring breakers, drunk young locals and a couple of skilled vaqueros on their horses, armed with rope and lasso. There were about 25 young brave men in the ring ready to run from, at, and with the bulls. The bulls were big, the bulls were mean, and the bulls were fast. The worked quickly to get the young rider off their back so they could set their horns on the young sunburned drunks in their flip-flops. And just as I turned to tell my wife how I was rooting for the bull amongst the bravado appearing in the ring, two familiar faces appeared, Jeremy and Braden. So now there were 25 drunks and Jeremy and Braden. They too wanted to feel the horns of the bull up close. Perhaps even more intense, the wrath of mom when she found out they were in the ring.
Braden ready to catapult out, Jeremy with hands in pocket.
This college spring breaker was asking for it all night long.......
And he got a little taste.
But alas, the boys maintaining a full state of soberness stayed close to the fence, leaping up in a single bound at the inclination of an angry bull approaching. They moved swiftly and unlike several Ticos, never had to dive for cover. There were several falls, lots of fence jumping and even some dives as the bulls charged, parried and spun throughout the dirt covered rung. The false bravado was amazing, the close calls followed by high fives, hugs and another beer. As far as live entertainment goes, and for the price, it is pretty hard to beat.
SCATTER!
Prophetic?
The main attraction......
...even for the medics
On a steel horse they ride.
It was a good night, and once it was over it was to comprehend why the fiestas were the most anticipated event of the year. They had a touch of Americana, the cheap trinkets, candied apples, cotton candy and mechanical rides. They had culture with the food and the historical bull ring, as this country was founded and settled by cowboys, or vaqueros. But most of all they have a place to get together, even if just for a weekend. A reason to come out of their small home as a family and gather with friends, enjoy their culture, eat, dance, drink, and just forget about the worries of the day for a couple of nights. Forget about the heat and the hard life, and just enjoy. But most of all they gather praying together that at least one of those drunk college tourist’s back ends meets the front end of a bull. For then they will have a story to share for all time.
A little video shot with my iphone so you can soak up some of the action and sounds.
Camping Costa Rica
The dry cold air encompassing your face, and only your face. A slight tinge of chill on your nose, ears and cheeks, while you feet are on the verge of sweating. You slowly open your eyes, not sure if you can see your breath but acutely aware that you are not in you bed at home. It is quiet, it is cool and the light is slowly and naturally filling your tent. You can see across a quilt of sleeping bags, mom, kids, dog, shoes, coats, hats, forming a camp carpet inside the tent. All you can think about, all you can muster is the thought that someone else, someone from another tent, got up, started a crackling fire and put on a pot of coffee. But it is just a wish, one that is nary fulfilled for you are that guy, the one who starts the fire and brews that joe. You are camp master.
Ocean View from Campsite Marbella Costa Rica
Looking into our luxury camp. Note the dryness, at least we broke the Godfrey curse of rain every single time we have ever camped.
Ben getting kindling for the fire.
As always, camp pets.
As always, Camp Queens.
Camping has been a part of our family for years, as you can see from some of my past posts (Ninilchik Camping, Homer Camping) I can still feel the anticipation and despair as we packed to prepare, assembling the tents to make sure they are whole, anticipating the rain and cold with extra clothes, socks and blankets. I can still feel that morning chill on my face as I psyched myself up to get out from my sleeping bag and start a post of coffee. I can still feel my body shivering just a touch as I slowly emerged from the tent in the morning, striving to keep all my parts dry, knowing once wet always wet. I can still smell the smokiness of the damp fire and hear the hard crackle of the wet wood drying. It was invigorating, tiring and a fun family activity. It was never luxurious, seldom relaxing, always dirty and always memorable, and that’s what camping is about, memories. In that aspect it never failed.
Kassie getting ready for some soccer
Jake and Kassie hanging out at the beach
Jake in action
Some Marbella combers
I remember awakening to a tent full of water and slugs. I remember wives mad because we left early to fish. I remember finding a hotel for night number two. I remember our food and fish being stolen during the night. I remember catching Silvers, Kings and Reds, cleaning them and worrying about bears. I remember seeing bears in camp. I remember back aches, side aches and longing for a real bathroom. I remember taking a crying dog out for a walk at 3 am in the pouring rain. I remember shooting stars, a smoke-filled tarp and rain, there was always rain. I remember watching the kids run, play, explore, fish and swim and loving every second of it. Camping is never short on memories.
Thinking about getting barreled, or getting crushed.
Night time ambience
Sun setting, fun beginning.
Lyle rocking out the electric guitar for the kiddos.
Well we started a new type of camping this year, Costa Rica camping. Unlike Alaska camping, the packing consists mostly of food and extra swimwear. Instead of rising at the crack of dawn to fish, we rise to surf. Instead of huddling by the fire, we seek shelter from the sun and seek a stiff breeze. Instead of worrying about bears we worry about snakes and spiders and small creepy things. It is a new adventure and already it has created memories.
Are you sure that was a hot dog?
The glow of the sun looks like a deep orange fire radiating through the trees.
A common sight at a Costa camp, the surfboard. Unfortunately, this is the last known photograph of this board while it was still alive.
Memories of forgetting tent poles for the big tent. Memories of thinking we brought the queen air mattress only to find out it was the single. Memories of forgetting the power cord ( yes we camp with power in Costa Rica) for the breakfast griddle. Memories of sunburn, salty skin and crazy dangerous surf. Memories of sleeping in a running car all night to circulate air. Memories of a surf that was much too big for me, pounding me over and over to the bottom of the ocean and snapping a friends fiery red board in half.
God wishing us a goodnight.
It left us with the eternal memories of the kids, running, hiding, playing, eating smores, singing ,skim boarding, boogie boarding and just having fun. It was different, but the results were the same. Memories, more and more memories. Hopefully, as they grow the kids will recall these trips and smile as they recall all the good times they had with friends and family, unaware of the pain and suffering mom and dad endured to create these memories. And as the memories of the back aches, lack of sleep and bug bites disappear and are overcome by the flood of good memories, smores, fires, kids playing and laughing, only then will we prepare for our next camping trip, this time with tent poles, air mattess and the proper power cords.
You Can Go Home Again; Just bring some extra socks.
It is hard to pass up a chance to go home again. A chance to see what is new and what has changed, who is new and who is still there. To visit with all your old friends and get a chance to say goodbye all over again. So when the chance came for me to make an impromptu trip back to Alaska, I jumped on it, even though I had relinquished all my cold weather gear prior to my departure.
Now if one was to schedule a rare trip to Alaska, generally they would be looking at June, July or August. Also, generally they would avoid January and February, as they tend to be the coldest, darkest, most miserable months of the year. Naturally, my trip was scheduled in February. Not only is it cold and dark, it is also covered in snow and the roads are often like ice rinks speckled with chicken playing moose. Given the fact that I had not driven on ice for well over a year, and that my driving habits had quickly degraded to the level of a local Tico, I was slightly concerned, especially when I found that I would be driving a studless two-wheel drive Camry. I was right to be concerned.
Dorian showing off our morning dusting that continued throughout the day.
The view of the morning snowstorm on my way to get some coffee.
One of several accidents that I saw during my trip.
First and foremost, just prior to my arrival, the state had been mired in a deep freeze averaging temperatures well below zero for a month. For bald men, this is a problem. However, the day we arrived the temperatures started to rise to well above zero. I theorize that as soon as Dorian and I stepped off the plane, Alaska sucked the tan and warmth off of our skin and released it directly into the atmosphere. Instantly 30-40 temperatures.
Ice wall along Turnagain arm, one of the ones the ice climbers climb.
Sunrise, around 10:30 I think.
more sunrise taken while driving (I told you I drive like a Tico)
If you look closely you can see the wind whipping off the top of the mountain. It definitely made it a wee bit chilly.
Yes this is better than -30, however if you have not lived in a state like AK, then you do not realize what comes with warm days and freezing nights, and that is the aforementioned speed skating roads. Literally roads of ice, covered in a thin layer of water to aid in the release of any possible remaining friction. In fact this time it was so bad, schools were closed and roads were closed. Four-wheel drives were ditched in attempts to climb the hills home and every available piece of unfrozen dirt was spread to give back some of that lost friction. A normal Alaskan winter, and a perfect day for a 3 hour drive to Soldotna.
Mid day Turnagain Arm.
Whats up Doc? Not the temperature.
If this guy thinks its cold, then its cold. Yes McDonald's free product placement.
Common sight in Soldotna.
All in all the driving came back to me pretty quickly, especially with the front wheel drive. I did however get the obligatory rock chip on the windshield, something that I have not seen since I left.
There were a lot of things I observed about myself while in Alaska.
1. I drink a lot more coffee, I mean 2 to 3 times as much as I do in Costa Rica.
2. I take a lot hotter showers. Long, very hot, to the point of the pointless shower sweats.
3. My feet are always cold.
4. My skin is always dry and flaking off my body as if it wanted to remain in AK.
Eli, Mackenzie, Chloe and Jojean.
Jojean at church with Asia and ? I don't know this little girl but she quickly friended us, and then informed me that I was not invited to her house.
All that being said, it was well worth it to see family and friends. It was great to visit and share, even though I was sharing the same things over and over again. It was great driving through my favorite coffee stands, going to Fred Meyer’s and most of all it was awesome to spend time with Jo. She has gotten so big and had some many stories to share. She has become quite the dresser as well. I was glad to see her healthy and having a lot of friends. I was also very thankful to find that our friends were helping to take care of her, our whole church in fact. She is covered in love in our absence.
Jo and Dorian Facetiming with mom.
Ipad facetime in action. Well worth every penny for the memories it created.
I didn’t get to see everyone I wanted to see, I didn’t get to eat with everyone I wanted to eat with, I didn’t get to spend as much time with those I wanted to spend time with, but it was still worth it. I got to spend a lot of time with some awesome friends and family, and I especially enjoyed the hospitality of the Brown’s and Davis’s as they opened up their homes to me and Dorian. It was much better than any 5 star hotel I could ever find on Priceline.
Noah welcoming me to his house. He plays ball better than any Labrador Retriever I have ever met.
Chloe insisted I stay the night, as she lugged my luggage all the way upstairs.
My favorite part of the trip, my time with my little princess Jo.
She still melts my heart. Which is good since I was a little chilly in AK.
I got to enjoy the beauty of Alaska again, despite the miserable roads and the bitter cold ( anything below 50 is bitter cold). It felt natural to be amongst the camo and Carhart laden people. To see the bunny boots, parkas hats and gloves, to defrost my windows in the morning and truly appreciate that first piping hot cup of coffee. It was normal to slow down a little as I came upon a trio of moose anticipating the quick road cross, and even the inevitable rock to the windshield was just like old times. And other than my feet freezing the whole time I was there, it was like slipping on an old pair of socks, I just wish that they had been thick wool.
It is good to go home again, if not for the land, for the people. Although next time, I hope I see more of the green land, more of the golden sun, and more of the hearty people.
Golden Grandmas
Now that mom and grandma have left us, life is returning back to normal, even though we have not yet determined what that is. It was great having them here, they are feisty, up for anything, great cooks, great company and simply fun to be with. They filled our house with love and also filled it with the sweet aroma of fried bread, sourdough, brisket and much more. We ate well and we ate much. They even helped cook for youth group, life group and a church potluck. They made it much easier for us to transition through our first holiday away from the states, and again we ate well. They got hot often, but complained little. They reveled in the simple things, such as Fox News in english and Pops ice cream parlor.
wedding cruise
Dr. Doolittle making new friends
Grandma slept well, in the car, but not in her bed. Mom swam in the pool pretty much every day and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the exercise. Grandma flourished at the beach and on our adventures despite burning her back to match the flesh of a spawning red salmon, and peeling much the same way. Mom was in her element packing for the beach, lunches, snacks, and making sure we never ran out of sun tea. She also made sure there was always some kind of fresh baked goods close at hand: Cinnamon rolls, bread, fried bread, cookies, cakes, it was all there.
Nana, Livy, Dorian walking Avellanas
Grandma never went anywhere without one of her cameras and took pictures of everywhere and everything. Then she would upload them to her Facebook page faster than Mark Zuckerberg ever dreamed possible. Yes, my 82-year-old grandma has a Facebook page and she owns that thing. Posting picture after picture, commenting on statuses and reading posts from her grandchildren and friends upload throughout the day. My kids discovered a fatal flaw in Facebook because of her, there is no great grandma relationship available. In the evenings, after helping in the kitchen she would check her Facebook, play solitaire and wait for us to let her watch Fox News. One thing is for certain, I never worked up enough courage to drive by a Pop’s ice cream shop without stopping, because I am too scared to know what would’ve happened if grandma could not get her mango ice cream cone.
The 70's gals ready to party
We miss them already and can’t wait until they return for another visit. And perhaps by then we will all be able to follow my grandma’s tweets as she travels the country searching for pretty flowers, monkeys, cows and critters worthy of an upload. And if Pop’s ever gets free wi-fi, I guarantee you will see about a dozen pictures of a double scoop mango ice cream cone being devoured on Facebook.
Here are a lot more pictures from their trip.
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- Nana
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- didn’t ask, don’t know
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- We could’ve had a lot of these pictures
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- camera ready to roll
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- If Jake can do it, I can do it.
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- more camera time
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- Jungle woman
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- what did you say?
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- camera in hand for a critter shot
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- grandma enjoyed resting in the back yard
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- Love this one because her white hair blends in with the froth of the wave
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- Don’t know didn’t ask.
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- Livy and grandma
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- The oldest grandson
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- I said Coca Cola, not Coconut.
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- waiting for our boat
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- camera in hand ready to ride
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- nana and Wolfy looking for fishes
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- mom playing the bongos on the cruise
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- a wee bit breezy
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- star gazing
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- Dr. Doolittle making new friends
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- Los Lagos at Arenal
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- wedding cruise
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- Mom preferred this over the zip line.
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- She don’t go anywhere without a camera.
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- Enjoying the Fortuna waterfall
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- Nana, Livy, Dorian walking Avellanas
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- The 70′s gals ready to party
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- This took about 17 takes
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- See Alli this is how facebook works.
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- Are you sure this is safe? I mean really really safe.
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- Mom zipping
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- good times
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- Grandma in her new favorite mode of transport
Weekend at Arenal
Living in Anchorage, when we wanted to get away for the weekend we would load up the minivan, point her south and head down to the Kenai Peninsula. In two and a half hours we could be in Kenai, an hour further we would be in Homer. It didn’t matter much which one, just as long as we were out of town.
Traveling view of Lake Arenal.
Well the same thing applies here in Costa Rica. With mom and grandma visiting we figured it was a great time to head to Arenal, one of the local active volcanos in Costa Rica. We loaded up the 12 seater with 11 bodies, and a bundle of bags and took off in hopes of catching a glimpse of the molten red lava spewing into the night sky.
Now Costa Rica is know for its diversiveness, and we live in the dry region famous for great beaches. We were headed towards the rain forest and jungles. The drive is about 4 hours and I like to divide it into three sections. The first section I would call the highway, from here to Liberia and a little beyond. The roads are well traveled, pretty straight and blast through small town after small town. The second section takes you into the hills where the winds await. There are sparse trees, wind farms, and a giant lake littered with wind surfers and their neon colored kites speckling the white capped lake. From inside the car, it looks cold, very cold. It reminds me of a lonesome bay in Alaska on cold blustery summer day. In reality, it is about 80 degrees out, and the wind, 20-25 mph, is a welcomed coolant.
Watching fish.
Once pass the sparse hills we enter the jungle, clouds appear, fog is present and the edge of the road disappears into the vivd green dripping jungle. There are a myriad of one lane bridges, rivers and eroding, albeit paved, roads along the way. The temperature is significantly cooler and the air becomes heavy with moisture. It is af you are driving into Jurrassic Park.
Contrary to what you may think, we are not making that bridge sag.
Four hours into our expedition we arrived at our destination, Los Lagos, a hotel / resort known for its spa and hot springs. But it had much more than we anticipated, a small butterfly farm, a frog farm, a crocodile farm and it was nestled right on the shoulder of the active Arenal volcano. It was very lush, very green well kept and catered towards tourists:us. It was perfect for this party of 11. For the kids it had three fast water slides, for the adults 7 different hot springs, pools and a spa.
At least one of them found the camera lens.
Grandma kept getting in trouble for not paying attention. The best part, she never knew it.
Happy, sad, scared, nervous? Not sure, perhaps a mix.
During our two day tour we decided to take advantage of some of the must do activites. We decided on the Ecoglide canopy / zip line tour, horseback riding for some, and a hike to the La Fortuna waterfall. In between all this we would soak our weary bodies in the hot springs and sip virgin pina colados served out of pineapples, can’t get much touristier than that.
Our Tico coffee at our new favorite place to eat in La Fortuna, La Choza. If you visit, you must eat there.
The zip line was the highlight for most. It consisted of 15 different zip lines at varying lengths, heights and speeds. All fantastically fun and exhiliariting. But what really set it over the top was the Tarzan swing perilously awaiting you in the middle of of the tour. Of course I was offered up as the sacrificial Tarzan to go first. As I eased forward onto the shaky mesh metal platform hanging over what felt like the abyss, they strapped me in the never explaining what was about to occur. The guides hooked two thin, weary looking and frayed white lines into my harness. They tugged, tightened and pulled me right next to a gate overlooking a 1000 foot drop ( at least it looked that far) and told me to press up against the gate. At this point I thought they would explain what was going to happen, instead “click” the gate was open. “Wait what is going on” I stammered, “relax, just sit” and I as bent my knees to sit I began free falling to the earth below. My intestines just about flew out of my mouth as I began screaming “NO, NO, NO”. It felt as if the two puny ropes had failed and I was going to be a ball of mush on the side of a mountain. But then the lines gently grabbed hold and began rocketing me straight up to the sky, inches away from the canopy above, and I began swinging, like Tarzan, back and forth, inches away from tree trunks. It was scary, it was exhiliarting and it was fun. The best part was watching those who went after me, knowing what they were going through, but also knowing they had the advantage of knowing what was going to happen. I must acknowledge those who took the leap, Tracy, Dorian, Alli, Jeremy, Olivia, and Grandma. Yes my 83 year old grandma took the leap screaming ‘WHEEEEE!! You’re going to miss out” Much like the Geico pig. She loved it. Mom, well she got strapped in, stepped up to the gate, and then couldn’t go through with it. But she got close.
Can you see the toucan? I can.
After the two hour tour, we rushed a group to the horse riding tour while the rest of us elected to rest our weary bodies in the hot springs. I hear the horseback tour was awesome, but I did not go as I prefered not to have saddle sores for the remainder of our stay. Besides, the last time I did the tour it ended up being a little more adventurous than I bargained for. They however loved it, especially my wife who got to ride her favorite kind of horse.
Returning to the stables after a month long cow herd.
After an excellent, gigando dinner at La Choza in La Fortuna, the next morning, we headed out for our hike to the waterfall in La Fortuna. The hike was down the side of a mountian on steps made of perforated concrete which allowed the massive vegetation to grow through and around it, almost engulfing it as part of the earth. I am not sure how many steps there were, I stopped counting after one trillion, but at least they were of varying heights angles and depths to keep it interesting. The trip down was worth the view, the trip up was tenuous. Next time we are packing a lunch and our swimming trunks and enjoying the view for a while.
Is that Bear Gryls?
Although we did not get to see any lava, or even the very top of the the volcano, it was a weekend to be remembered, a great way to spend the last one before school starts up again. We got to see a lot of critters; the infamous coati begging on the side of the road,monkeys chilling and posing, toucans, iguanas, butterflies, crocodiles, frogs and even a sloth. I am extremely proud of grandma as she did each an every adventure set before her, living life to the fullest. But most of all I am proud of her for surviving three days and two nights without her facebook. That my friends was a real challenge!
This is about as much of the volcano as we ever saw.
Here is a short video compilation of our weekend for you to enjoy. Until our next adventure, I need some sleep.
6 month update
As this will be my last post of 2011 and my 55th post of the year (my goal) I figured it would be great to give our six month update. I already covered the year in our 2011 Christmas Letter, so I wanted to get you all caught up on where we are at in our little adventure.
Currently we have car, and we just recently got our bank account. Those were two primary things to check of our list. Next on the list is to work on residency and to get our Costa Rica driver’s license. Both tasks will require trips to San Jose, four and a half hour trips of which I am not fond.
We have really begun to settle in. We find it relatively easy to meet people here and to make friends. I find that we have an instant built-in bond. The bond of being a loco expat that has moved to Costa Rica. We all have our reasons for being here, but whatever that reason we are the few crazy ones that have done it, so that gives us an instant connection.
Part of the Godfrey/ Gugel clan setting up camp at Playa Danta.
Life in the Guanacaste region is slow, and by that I mean there is not a lot going on here. The kids have a few school activities, there are a few activities for adults, but there is no movie theater, no bowling, no malls nothing but beaches, bars, restaurants and tourist traps. So our definition of fun has truly evolved. As for Dorian, Jeremy, Ben Jake, Kassie and I, we like big waves for boogie boarding or surfing. It has become our go to activity, and we really enjoy it. Tracy just likes going to remote beaches and relaxing, Alli goes where her friends are and Livy doesn’t much care for the beach. Hopefully we can get her surfing. I have been helping coach the boys basketball team, and it looks like I will continue to do so into the new year. Tracy continues to sing with the church worship team and we both attend Bible studies with our relative gender.
I have enlisted a couple of my friends to teach me the art of spear fishing. They are eager to do so and I am eager to learn as my affinity for killing fish has not weaned from my Alaska days. Until then I will continue to stay on top of the water.
Mystery fish in the surf, a common sighting.
Another view, begging for a spear fisher.
Me on the hunt!
We still have bouts of home-sickness, especially during that holidays. We look forward to visiting, hopefully this summer, but it has been a huge blessing to have Mom and Grandma here during the holidays to bring a sliver of home to Costa Rica.
Jake and Kassie in a Costa Rican hot tub.
We are looking forward to doing missionary trip to Nicarauga with our church and have been involved in a small way with aiding local schools. Unexpectedly, we have a found a huge need amongst the local expats as well as the Ticos, so perhaps that is the path God is taking us down. Wherever he is leading, we will do our best to follow
Kassie and Ben watching daddy.
So there you have it. The biggest events from the three-month update has been our local bank account and the arrival of mom and grandma. At this rate, within two years we should have our local driver’s license, and residency sometime before we die. Until then, if you read this blog you will have to endure endless pictures of the beach, sunsets, and Godfrey’s in shorts. I figure by next rainy season, we will all be in sweaters. Pura Vida.
so this is Christmas
Instead of sleds, snowboards, socks, jackets and hats, our gifts are surfboards, skim boards, shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. Instead of hot cocoa by the fire, we go watch the sunset on the beach testing out our new beach equipment and begging for ice-cold water. Instead of shutting all the doors and windows and watching the snow fall, we open up everything and lay by the pool dangling our feet into the water and long for the Papagou winds to flurry across our face.
Jake showing off his new guitar
Jake and Kassie showing off their new pool horse.
Me offering moral support.
It doesn’t sound like Christmas, but does it feel like Christmas? It depends. I suppose it feels like Christmas to those born and raised here. I suppose it feels like Christmas to this who have been supplanted here decades ago, but it does not “feel” like Christmas to us, at least not yet.
Dorian sporting his new board shorts on Christmas Day.
A different kind of Christmas.
Jake submarining
boys will be boys.
last one in is a roadkill iguana.
It helped to have mom and grandma here baking and cooking until their backs ached. It helped having 9 different pies and cakes, a well cooked turkey and countless traditional side dishes.It also helped being able to fly to Florida to do a little shopping before the big day. It helped having a great Christmas Eve service at Beach Community Church to ground us. But it was vastly different from any Christmas I have ever had. It wasn’t bad, it was just different. I have a sneaky suspicion the next one won’t feel so different.
Now on to the next holiday, New Year’s eve. I hear they do it big down here, but you’ll just have to tune in to see. We’ll see how different that one feels.
Grandma on Christmas Day
Watch out Grandma!
Too late.
Mom watching the sunset.
Until then, time for me to put on my new flip-flops, my new Billabong board shorts, my new tank top, grab a boogie board, check out the tide on my new tide watch and hit the beach for a little surfing. Nah, still doesn’t feel like Christmas. Oh well, I just need an iced latte with some whip cream and I’ll cope.
Daddy in action
Jeremy trying out his new skim board on a Christmas sunset.
Whirlwind
I have been off the blogosphere for a bit as we made a whirlwind trip back to America for our 3 month reprieve. You see until you have residency here in CR, we have to leave the country every 3 months, get your passport stamped, and then you can return again. You don’t have to go to America, you just have to go. However, we have had round trip tickets the last couple of times and we decided this time would be a good time to do some Christmas shopping and to pick up Mom and Grandma and bring them home. A quick relaxing one week trip to Orlando. However, I have discounted the effect the Pura Vida life has had on us. We are used to the slow pace, the anything goes mantra that permeates this small country. Orlando is anything but that, and Orlando’s malls are the exact opposite of that, an area where we spent the vast majority of our time.
You see when we travel we now travel with a mission, shop for stuff that is to expensive or does not exist here, see some movies in english, eat at places we don’t get to eat at, and force ourselves to have some fun. What we failed to realize is that there is no relaxing that fits into the following schedule.
Jake digging into one of the far too many desserts we ate. Thanks Mom & Grandma!
Pausing at the Florida Mall for a picture.
Day one, shop, pick up Mom and Grandma from the airport.
Day two, eat, shop, eat, shop, get home exhausted.
Day three, eat, shop, eat, shop, movie, drive, shop, eat. Get home exhausted.
Day four, eat, eat, shop, shop, drive, look for specific presents, drive, keep looking, drive, pass out from exhaustion.
Kassie, Jake and snakes.
Exhausted shoppers. Note the long sleeve shirts.
Mall scenes
Day five, drive 3 hours to West Palm Beach to visit Dorian’s potential college, take an 1 1/2 hour tour, eat, drive 3 hours home, go to a movie, maybe catch a nap during the flick in a very loud Imax theater, eat and sleep.
Dorian's welcome to Palm Beach Atlantic University.
University views.
The view from the street side dorms.
The chapel.
Inside the chapel.
The library, it was very impressive.
Library
Day Six, last-minute shopping, all that stuff we forgot, drive like crazy to find it with minimal success. Shop, check mom and grandma into a hotel near the airport, go to dinner at Downtown Disney, a super hectic place, lose Olivia, find Olivia, get back at the house to pack about 4 hours behind schedule.
I think he is giving Alli the cold shoulder.
The Millenia Mall doing its best to get us in the spending spirit.
Another mall another picture.
Like father like son.
Day seven, get up early, drop off rental car, get to airport 2.5 hours early so that 9 people and 12 bags can get checked in, which is a blog in and of itself, fly 2.5 hours to CR, drive 4.5 hours back to Flamingo in the dark, open door, breathe.
Livy and Jake taking a break.
Day eight, sleep, and surf, back home.
It is funny, but as soon as we hit the front door of our house, or even the street in front of our house Tracy and I both breathe a huge sigh of relief. We are home, it is familiar, it is relaxing and busy, but it is where we are now living our life. America is great, it is convenient, it is busy, bustling, big and beautiful, but it wears us out. We got a lot done, visited Dorian’s potential college Palm Beach Atlantic, bought a lot of Christmas Presents, sent a ton of mail, lost Olivia at Downtown Disney, and found Olivia at Downtown Disney and ate at a dozen different restaurants. But I feel tense the whole time I am there, like I am not moving fast enough, like I have too many places to eat, too many things to do, too many choices to make. Once I get here my choices are the pool, the beach or stay home. It is simple, it is slow, it is nice and we like it. And as we walked in the door and realized that daddy forgot to pay the bills so our internet and phones were shut off, we smiled relaxed and said Pura Vida.
18 Years
She was the ultimate ham, the “look at me” girl, dancing, singing, telling stories, a broadway show all in herself. Her short heavy black hair, chubby little cheeks, squeaky little voice, she was the light of every room she entered, the center of attention, and not unwanted. Cute beyond any measure of cuteness, 18 by the time she was four, making friends everywhere she went.
Daddy and Alli
Nobody told her to put her hands like that, we never had to.
One of her first best friends.
He wasn’t shy, but not outgoing. He loved to laugh and laughed hard. He would run in and out of a room, his short black hair, chubby dark cheeks and squinty eyes, never desiring to be the center of attention, but happy to be playing something, basketball, baseball, football. Unlike her he didn’t make friends instantaneously, it usually took some time. But his friends were always his friends. He was always happy, always hungry and very easy-going. They were a perfect complement to each other, Best friends, buddies and siblings.
Our earliest pictures of Dorian. He was a chunk.
Momma's boy
He loved snuggling with mommy
They were twins, if not by blood, by family. They journeyed through every phase of life together, walking, home school, Sunday school, T-ball, getting new brother’s and sisters, becoming annoyed with new brother and sisters and even High School. Although as they got older their interests may not have stayed the same, her the social butterfly making a new friend every day, dancing, drama ( a suitable fit) and any other activity she could get him to drive her to. Him, football, baseball, and eventually settling on basketball. He became a very hard studier, pushing himself far beyond average, very organized and self motivated. He made a few friends, but they were his friends, and that is all he needed. His quiet demeanor making him mysterious and popular although not to his liking. She at every dance, he at none. He studying hard for every test, her waiting for the last-minute choosing to read books instead. The results were very similar, the grades very similar, they are very different, but very similar.
she always loved the camera, and it loved her.
Dorian and Uncle Gerad
Grandpa reading to Dorian in Kodiak. They both loved bird watching.
Beautiful from a very young age.
Two finally adjusted kids, the oldest of this family of 8, the leaders, the ones who had to suffer through our blunders as parents, our impatience, often taken for granted as new babies came. They became our rocks. The ones we counted on to come through for us, that we leaned on, that we trusted to be Godly, wholesome people, the ones to help us with the rest of the family. And now together they turn 18. Likely this is the last year they will live with us, and they will be missed. The Bible says in God’s eyes a day is like a thousand years and life is but a twinkle of an eye. Looking back in my mind’s eye, I think I know what that means now. Because as much as I love them now, as proud as I am of what they have become and as excited as I am for where they are going, they will always live in my heart as the two-three year old gifts from God who brightened even minute of my life and the lives of those that had the pleasure to meet them.
Dorian with his first of many King Salmon.
Again, just her natural pose after a piano recital
Post dance
Best buddies forever.
Dorian and his oldest cousin Josh
Alli, Kassie, Livy after yet another dance recital.
My girls
My boys
I pray Alli and Dorian that you find joy in this life through your relationship with God and others, and that you follow the path that he leads you on. Your mom and I will always pray for you, always be here for you and are always forever thankful for all you have brought into our lives. You could never be replaced and you could not be loved more. Thank you for being awesome role models for all your younger siblings. You are awesome adults, but you will always be our oldest LITTLE boy and girl. We are confident that no matter where you go or what you do you will excel. Thank you so much for all you have brought into my life and all you will continue to bring. And if you ever decide to go into business together, Alli you be the “talent” Dorian you be the manager and I promise you will be unstoppable. .
My all time favorite Alli / Dorian picture. This is how daddy will always remember you.
Sail Away on the Marlin Del Ray
With the dry season now upon us, the only logical thing to do is to take to the water, which we did. BCC sponsored a sunset cruise aboard the Marlin Del Ray and the day couldn’t have been better. There were a smattering of clouds in the piercing blue sky, a slight breeze and perfect air temperature to be skimming across the slightly rippled blue sea. On board the cruise about 60 family and friends, drinks, fruit and food provided.
Our chariot awaits
Nary 20 minutes out of Tamarindo we spotted some humpback whales, a calf and her momma and we veered course to ride next to them. They put on a nice show for all of us, breaching, spewing and generally delighting all those on board before swimming off into the deep. Immediately after getting back on course we were greeted by some dolphins who playfully glided by each hull on the 60 foot catamaran. Right along side of them was a small manta ray sunning his wingtips. Soon after that we sailed upon some Leatherback turtles having an intimate moment. They seemed slightly irritated as we slid by them 10 feet away. In between all this were fish jumping, snakes swimming, and the wind and sea slapping gently against the hulls of the boat. On board, kids and adults were laughing in glee with every new sighting.
Thar she blows! Whale watchers moving over the the starboard side.
Once we reached our destination, a private beach, the anchor was dropped and everyone hit the water with snorkels, noodles or life jackets. The water was not the clearest, but it was clear enough to see the plethora of colorful fish and sea life along the reef. I don’t know what kind of fish I saw but I do know that they were neon blue, yellow, rainbow-colored, small, large, fast slow and all curious. The beach itself was empty except for those of us from the boat, so it was ripe for a walk or a little beach combing. It was a small dark beach sheltered by small cliffs on each side, making the bay it hosted nearly glass calm. No surf to speak of, but great for some swimming and snorkeling.
Jeremy and Octavia checking on the anchor.
The day finished with some food, singing and a typical Costa Rica sunset, the money shot. However, they always seem to be a little more impressive from the water. Something about being able to look back onto the beach having the same view the sun has makes it slightly more breathtaking. Cameras were smoking as their shutters flashed, and there was a slight quietness and stillness that enveloped the whole vessel as we waited for that magical moment when the sun disappeared over the edge of the world. We were not disappointed, as we never are. And as we were shuttled back to the beach in the 20 foot fiberglass, white open skiff, which got us close enough to wade back to the beach in the warm Pacific water, I realized that this was November, and we had just all been kissed by a touch of sunburn. I also realized that our reality had changed from shoveling snow, driving on icy roads and trying to keep my bald head warm, to trying to stay cool, dealing with jellyfish stings, and trying to make sure my bald head doesn’t burn. It is a change, but we are doing our best to cope.
P.S. There are so many pictures that I just put them in slideshow below for you to enjoy.
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Shell Shocked
Since we live in an area known for its beautiful beaches, we tend to spend a lot of time on them. As you have seen in previous posts, each beach has its own personality, some for surfing, some for swimming, some for tanning and almost all for shell hunting. One of our favorite activities since we have been married beach combing on a beach, any beach. Funny thing, the kids have really gotten into this pastime as well. They view it as a treasure hunt. And if you are not surfing or swimming, it is a great way to get some sun and have some fun. In fact, we have cases of shells and beach glass that I have paid to move to at least three different houses. What do we do with them? Good question.
Jake and Kassie doing what they love to do, look for treasure. I prefer non-living.
Jeremy looking for his piece of the pie
A gaggle of gatherers!
A typical find, nothing outstanding.
Barefoot in the warm moist sand, waves crashing against the beach, a slight breeze and the smell of the ocean as you leave a trail of slowly drying foot impressions behind you; You never know what you might see. By accident, last time we were here we found a very small beach, a lonely beach, with giant shells. We have been back several times since. However, surprisingly our most recent best finds came this past week at a beach we have been to a multitude of times, a popular beach known for surfing, Grande.
one short beach sweep
it's like berry picking in the tropics! Except we can't eat em.
a good start
As me and the boys attempted to surf ( and I truly mean attempt) Tra and the girls decided to go for a walk. The tide was very low, hence the lousy surfing, giving a huge runway of beach to comb. As they walked they heard a clinking and decided to investigate. What they found was a small gully in the beach, right where two crests of waves were meeting to etch out the gully. In the gully, hundreds of hermit crabs leaving their current shell for an upgrade. They would crawl out of their shell, and then test out a new bigger shell, if it fit well they would stay, too big too small they would return to their old shell and try again. Amongst them, a treasure trove of shells, shells like we have never seen. All unbroken, all unique and all beautiful.
a non-typical as we would say back home.
Boone N Crockett
Kassie's classic
Looks like it'll cost me a bundle to move this new batch!
and more.......
...and even more. They never end!
The ladies, they loaded up, but the day’s winner for sure was Kassie. As she walked along the shoreline, she was shin deep into the Pacific as kids tend to do, when she kicked up a nice little shell. She bent over and pulled out a gem, probably the best one we have seen since we have been here. An unbroken hand sized shell, a rarity for sure. So when you come to visit, and you see the silhouettes in the sun of people walking slowly on the beach, bent over at the waist and appearing to be looking for a lost wedding ring in the sand ( not saying it did or did not happen) be advised that they are simply shell hunting. And if you join them and happen to see a crab wearing a 14 carat gold belt, go ahead and grab him for me. I’m sure we’ve got a new condo for him here that will fit perfectly in return for the belt.
You wanna look for shells on OUR BEACH!???!!!
Our favorite Costa Rican Fish, The Dark Jackson.
There have been a lot of surprises since we have relocated. Most of them we expected, a few are shocking, and some are more difficult than anticipated. One of the most surprising has been the kids acclamation to water. Being raised in Alaska, the opportunities to swim outside the occasional visit to the local pool, are daunted by the freezing water, and most often end up being an ankle-deep wade at best. Living with a pool in your front yard, a beach 5 minutes away, and perennial 90 degree Fahrenheit air and water tends to change that a little. None more apparent than our favorite fish the Dark Jackson, whom you may know as Jake. Since leaving Alaska Jake has lived in the water. Jake would sleep in the water if he could.
Getting ready for a pairs dive
Pairs diving
Jake doing a dive he invented
showing off
more of the same
Can you see the thumbs up? Maybe he is more of ham than a fish.
He always finds the camera
In the morning, after breakfast, and sometimes before, he is in the pool. Throughout the day into the dark, he is often in the pool. After coming home from all day at the beach, he is in the pool. The kid loves the water, and has become very proficient in it. He can hold his breath longer than me, he can do better dives than any of us, he can swim like a manta ray and no one ever taught him how to swim. He never had a lesson, he was never old enough for us to really teach, he just did it.
the elusive the Dark Jackson
The ham thing must run in the family
About to be crushed by a big wave, no worries.
Perhaps it is allegoric to our life. Just maybe we need to lead them to the opportunities, or provide the tools for our children, ie. the pool, and let them swim. We can be right there to help them, in the water or on the edge jumping to their rescue when needed, but perhaps if we give them a little leeway and let them go just a little they will swim and they will excel in the way that God intended, beyond anything we could imagine. But then we would have to live with the realization that perhaps what God wants with our lives and our children’s lives is much bigger than anything we could imagine. That makes it much more difficult to let them out of the wading pool, unfortunately with us stuck right by their side. Or maybe Jake is just a natural-born swimmer.
Short video showing some of the kiddos sacrificing boogie boards and getting crushed at Playa Flamingo. I was laughing at them, not with them.
In his element
Surfing USA
Alright, I know we aren’t in the USA, but it was Independence Day and we are still US citizens, so I figured I could take a little liberty there with the title. We were eager to see what the Fourth of July would be like in CR, whether anyone would care or even know. They know, but I am not sure they care, other than caring to party.
Playa Grande
Alli shell hunting
looking for more shells
action Jackson
For us we decided to make it a family day and do something we had never ever done on the Fourth; surf. Since we had never surfed on the fourth, and most of us had never surfed at all, what better place to go than the place known for its big waves, Playa Grande. At the surf board shop we rented the biggest fattest board they had, because we like to go old school, and because they are supposed to be easier to use for beginners.
grand rock at Grande
The rocks residents
Kassie and Jake taking a rare break from the water
Big board Benny
The beach is called grande because it is a huge beach. White sand, big waves and a little wind, pretty much all you need. The white sand seems to go on forever, the waves are never-ending, the people are few and the water as warm as a spa. So into the water we went, dad the instructor who does not know how to surf, a 9 foot surf board and eager students. I suppose like anything, when you watch the pros do it, it looks easy. Swim out, turn around, catch the wave, stand up, your surfing! Of course it never is. To my surprise the hardest part was the swimming out. Almost every kid who tried had a hard time getting the board out past the waves on their own. Conversely, only after a few spills, every kid who tried to stand up and ride a wave succeeded. Our technique was simple, practice jumping up on the beach, practice balancing on the board in the water, dad holds the board until he sees a good wave then sends them on their way. Their job, jump up when they feel comfortable. To my shock, it worked.
Tra and Kassie cheesing it
hmmmm, I don't like to get my face wet, but this looks pretty cool.
Tra catching a wave on the boogie board
I can't believe I just did that! Righteous!
Now surfing is not just about standing on a surf board, that I know. But that is all I know, so until we have some actual teachers we will call that success.
After three hours in the water shuffling kids through the board, I could feel my head start to get warm and my muscles start to get tired, so I had to take a break. In fact, if I could figure out a way to sell a DVD with a wave pool that generated 5-8 foot waves over and over in people’s living room, I would be the next millionaire in the exercise market. It is definitely a workout to just stand in the surf.
Jake praying at the Mar Bar
our new favorite hole in the wall for lunch
Starving, thirsty salty and soggy we asked around for a good quick local eat and were told about Mar Bar, somewhat hidden but the only place to get some good quick grub. The Mar Bar is exactly what I would picture as a surfers hangout. Located as part of small, low-budget hotel, with a pool; It was very small, just wide enough for a row of eight three person tables an chairs in the “dining area” about 5 feet away from the six person bar. The bar had a 1/2 wall to block the road, and the rest was open. The small kitchen plainly visible to the patrons, with a flat screen tv hanging from the wall playing surf videos from around the world. Locals were in and out, the owner knowing them all by name. It was as much as of a pass-thru as a hangout. Our food was prepared by two local Ticas, and it was fantastic. All the items were fresh and handmade, especially the fries. The fries were hand cut half moons, light crispy, not greasy at all and seasoned with salt and rosemary; amazing. The fish burrito, again light but filling, loaded with fresh ingredients, as were the BLT wraps with slices of perfectly ripened avocados and special sauce. It was all excellent, and we will be back.
We finished the day with a local fireworks celebration near the Happy Snapper, a local eatery located across the street from the beach. There was live music which could be heard blocks away. Oddly enough, for USA independence day, the music was mostly Latin flavor and in Spanish. We chose to sit by the beach, not knowing where the fireworks would be displayed. Then in the pitch dark, at 7:30 we noticed that we had parked right next to the lighting station. No fences, yellow tape, nothing to keep you at a safe distance. We move a little ways away and made camp under some palm trees about 50 feet away. Half an hour late and the lighter man began the show. Now it may not have been the most awesome display we have ever seen, but what was awesome was that we were sitting on a beach, under palm trees, 8:00 pm in shorts and T-shirts, as the residual from the exploding rockets fell all around us and sizzled into the edge of the ocean. That was new. It was subdued, not overdone, simple but exotic, late, slow and appreciated, just like everything in Costa Rica. It was a good way to spend our first Independence Day abroad.
Alli and Playa Grande
Partridge Godfreys for Project Rescue
Ahhh the dessert auction, is there any other better way to raise money? I cannot think of any. Spend outrageous amounts of cash for awesome looking desserts that you would never think to make or buy. I have attended several and I have always walked away with something, usually a couple more pounds. The most recent one was for Project Rescue, an extremely worthy cause. If you have not heard of it, click on this LINK and learn more. The bad news, as much as I enjoy a dessert auction my mother and grandmother enjoy them 10 times more. In fact they treat it as a mission or even a battlefield zone. They have special stealth skills and bidding strategies which all but guarantee victory in the silent auction. They lurk around the auction zones, pen in hand, fake names pre-planned, and body checks ready to go. If they bid, they intend to win, and it is fruitless to bid directly against them.
This was the scene at our church’s last dessert auction, and they did well walking away with 6, yes 6 different desserts. But why were they there you ask? They don’t live here, they don’t often visit randomly, so why? Well you see this auction also had a talent show, and some of the talent were their grandkids, or as Pastor Nick refers to them ” Charity Bait”. I know what you’re thinking “what is their talent? Having the coolest dad in all of America?” Well they have other talents as well, and unfortunately they usually keep them hidden. For this show Olivia played the piano, Ben played a song on the guitar and sang, and Alli performed a dance. All this in front of impatient sugar starved bidders ready to attack the foray of desserts tantalizing them from the display section. They were all nervous, but not nearly as nervous as mom and dad. They all three did fantastic, and we couldn’t be prouder. To see them fight back their nerves and perform for a worthy cause was very proud moment. I was proud enough that I wanted to share it with those of you who could not be there. So the following video is a combination of all three performances. The sound may be a little quiet as I recorded it all from my phone, so I couldn’t adjust the sound or zoom in but you’ll get the point.The whole video is about 9 minutes, with some random facts to keep your interest, so please enjoy.
Road Trips
Every once in a while a man has to get out of dodge and take road trip. In college a road trip consisted of; scraping up some gas money, spending most of it on snacks ( pickled red-hot sausage for me please), a car full of screaming teenage boys, very loud 80s music in the cassette, excessive speeding and not planning ahead for the trip home. They were spontaneous, reckless and usually fun fraught with a touch of danger and self-induced issues.
road trip scenes
Cook Inlet Turnagain Arm
Tern Lake
Now our road trips are just a touch different; Get through all the days appointments, PLAN for two days, pack for you the kids and for every contingency under the winter sun, take care of the dog, take care of the cars and leave about 2 hours later than planned, with no pickled red-hot sausage for dad because a 40-year-old gut can’t handle it. But probably the biggest difference is the purpose. In college, the purpose was not usually well-defined and sometimes not well intended. Now there is a purpose. Perhaps for a shopping trip, a family visit, or just some family time.
This past weekend we went out on one of our road trips to attend a family function. When my family has a function it is usually not an intimate thing. This time it was to congratulate my brother on graduating from law school and to celebrate my grandmother’s 81 (0r 82) birthday. After four years of working a full-time job and taking classes my brother was finally able to graduate with his law degree and take his bar exam, all while getting fantastic grades. We are very proud of him, and we just hope he doesn’t bill us when we call him, because he can be a little long-winded at times and we don’t have that kind of money.
A small portion of the gathering, Dorian, Jeremy, Jennifer, Brad and Wyatt
Brad " is that one of my kids crying or one of the 30 other kids?"
Just one of the kid's tables
These ones couldn't find a table
Grandma, well she keeps plugging along. She is the type of grandma that acts about 1/3 her age. My kids love being around her because she is so much fun, In fact Ben just did a road with her to Homer and he said he was laughing the whole time; it was his best road trip ever. So maybe she acts more like a 1/7 her age. Whatever it is I have learned that the older you get the younger you act the younger you will feel.
The adults beginning to gather after the cow bell for dinner was rung.
Olivia, Alli, Dorian, Tim and a whole slug of other eaters
Gerad about 1/2 hour into his thank you speech, with Deb and Grandma looking on.
The event itself was just that, lots of puroke, potato salad, turkey and desserts; new family members introduced, stories were shared, relationships rekindled, people were honored, and all were fed well. It was awesome. There were approximately 57 people in attendance. I could not give an exact number because approximately 30 of those people were under the age of 14 and they didn’t stand still long enough to be counted. We ended up having a grand time seeing family members we had not seen in years, and some new ones we had never seen. Unfortunately we were unable to stay as long as we would’ve liked, perhaps next time I will skip that pickled red-hot sausage on the drive over.
Not Me
It has become readily apparent to us that our house is haunted by naughty little imps. We have denied it for years, but lately the evidence has mounted to a point that to deny it would be sheer foolishness. We didn’t have to use a Geiger monitor, infrared cameras, or laser detectors; We don’t have pictures of them, we haven’t talked to them, no one has, and we haven’t seen them, just the trail of destruction they leave in their wake. I have thought about installing some trail cameras, but everyone knows they cannot be captured on a simple camera, again foolishness. So instead we have decided to live them, at least for the time being.
I can hear you screaming ” How do you know, what evidence? ” Well let me share the evidence with you, but be forewarned, your eyes will no longer be closed and you too will likely start encountering the impish little fiends in your abode as you are awakened to the clues surrounding you.
#1: Who keeps tracking wetness into the house? It isn’t Tracy, it isn’t me and it isn’t Shyla. Each and every one of my children swear it isn’t them. So the evidence tells me that these imps put on the kids shoes, when they are wet, and march around the house with nary a care. Leaving the kids shoe prints for all the world to see.
Backpacks laying around and nobody put them there. Exhibit #1
#2 Who keeps eating all the potato chips and putting the empty bags back in the pantry? And who is putting a small sip of backwash milk in the fridge? Tracy and I don’t eat chips or drink milk, and Shyla could’ve done it, but she prefers to eat food that falls on the floor. Again, it wasn’t any of our kids as they keep telling us to a child “not me!” So again, who could it be? You do the math.
#3. Who keeps leaving the kids coats, blankets, shirts, pants and shoes strewn around the house? Again, Tra & I are out as suspects, Shyla, well she does get an occasional sock and run around the house like a cat with its tail on fire . But I have never seen her dragging anything other than socks, and a coat is definitely too big for mouse dog. So that once again leaves the kids and when each and everyone is confronted they all say “not me”, even if it was their clothes, shoes or coat. So once again the facts all point to one direction.
shoes just spread randomly on the floor. Exhibit #2
I could go on and on and on with all the evidence, broken faucets, tools, toys and games, missing tools, doors left open, lights left on, water left running and chores that were sworn to be finished, undone by the imps.
a jacket thrown mysteriously on the rug. Exhibit #3
So, based purely on evidence, it has become evident that not only are these fiends messing with us, they are attempting to frame our kids for their crimes! I am furious just thinking about it.Why can’t they pick on someone their own size and leave our innocent little never-do-anything-wrong kids alone? We often feel guilty accusing our kids of such misdoings, but I must continue to eliminate suspects, as that is what I do. It has gotten so bad that the little creatures have started dragging out my stuff and leaving all over; my shoes, coats, hats everything! An obvious attempt to frame me now that I am on to them!
another jacket, almost shoved into the vacuum in an obvious attempt to disable the vacuum. Exhibit #4
Now that you know, pay attention to the evidence around your house, especially if you have kids and often if you have a husband. Soon you will begin to notice the misdoings of these unseen critters
my desk, again with mysterious items strewn about in an attempt to frame me.
and perhaps you will be the first one to get photographic evidence. And if you need to borrow my Geiger meter, just let me know and I’ll ask the kids if they have seen it around. I swear I had it sitting on my desk.
House full of sickies
Name something that’s easy to catch, hard to get rid of, and often shared; You guessed it, the flu, or any kind of sickness for that matter. Everyone knows how brutally any virus spreads amongst a school full of children. Children that seldom wash hands and often put them places they ought not be. Well in a large family, a virus spreads much the same way. Only one of us has to catch it and then we can share it with everyone in the house. We are givers, that’s what we do. It’s funny how it spreads in our house. Usually one person gets it and is miserable for days, then just when they get better one or two people get it, and as they are getting better the rest of us get it. I call it sickness by thirds. I can’t recall a time when we all got sick at exactly the same time, unless you count the bad Chinese food.
Of course the reason I am blogging about this now is that we are currently fighting this battle, and this is a pretty good one; 3-4 days of high fevers, hacking, coughing, vomitting and crying. The crying is me because I keep getting my sleep interrupted by sick pitiful children begging mom for help. So far, every time we have been capabable of battling through the other side, stronger for it. I believe this time will be no different, although the rest of the family will have to contend with a grouchy bear of a dad if I don’t get some sleep one of these nights.
two sickies doing what sickies do
I find it pretty amazing that no matter when you share the story of your families sickness, it is almost always met with the ” I heard that is going around” comment. The odd thing is I heard that even with the bad chinese food. None-the-less, I have heard that this is going around right now.
The chink in our armor is Tra. You see any one of us can get sick and things just move along quite peachy. But when mom is sick, that’s when the whole system starts to fall apart. Mom’s are nurturing, loving, caring, healing, loving, nurturing, you get the point. Dads; “suck it up and walk it off. Have you sat on the pot yet? Gargle some salt water and it will be all better. Try to throw up quieter, I can’t hear the TV, and it will help you fell better too.” Not a lot of sympathy or nurturing, but lots of loving, tough loving. The irony is if dads get sick we need the most of mom’s qualities than any other member of the household. For some reason the sickness always hits the dads the hardest and makes us the sickest. I’m sure it has something to do with body weight, the heavier the victim the more intense the Illness. It makes us almost immobile, and causes whining sounds emit from our vocal cords. We are nearly paralyzed with pain, needing to be waited on hand an foot. Our every need tended to by the most nurturing, loving person in the house. However, I have noticed she must be taking notes on my style, because the last time my medicine was a dose of ” get up and take a shower,you’ll feel better, and you smell”. Nurturing and tough love at its best.
A couch full of sickies, note sickie medicine.
When moms get sick the whole system collapses. Personally I have been getting better, keeping the kids quiet, the house clean ( at least to my standards), and tending to my wife’s every need as long as it doesn’t involve a lot of work, or is needed during my favorite show. Finally, I make sure and leave a few things so she won’t feel left out, you know things like some dirty laundry and dishes. I can tell she appreciates it because as soon as she emerges from her den of sickness, she immediately gives me some of that tough love which just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Or is that a fever coming on?
The Blur
A while back I wrote on milestones, and they seem to keep on coming. I guess that’s what happens when you have a passle of youngen’s who keep reaching em. I know when I reflect on my life, I can see clear and present milestones strewn throughout. The big ones, graduating highschool, going to college ( note I did not say graduating college) getting married, having kids, getting a career and they keep on coming. One huge one that I keep reflecting on is my marriage. Not the marriage as a whole, but the event itself. You see I was 20 when I got married, and my folks, well they were 39 &40. I remember looking at them and thinking that they were old, despite my peers having parents much older than mine. Just recently I realized that I am now older than both my parents were when I got married. Did you hear that? I am older than those old people that were at my wedding, and I still have a little kids running around my house and will for a while.
Now, I don’t feel old. And unlike every UFC fighter about to take the ring, I do not feel I’m in “the best shape of my life”, but I feel okay. My bones creak, my back aches, my hair….. well we all know about that one. I can still run for 3-4 miles, still do a few push-ups and sit-ups, still remember most things, but I definitely feel a change. You know how your grandpa would say ” the weather is going to change, I can feel it in my bones”? Well apparently that is a skill that improves with age, and I now have it in my left knee. Sure, the Dr. calls it arthritis, but it is more accurate than my weather app.
Baby Olivia
Where was I going with all this? Ah yes, milestones. Well I just took my sweet little baby to get her driving permit, and she did something that no one in this house has ever done; she passed on her very first try. What makes this a milestone is that she is not my oldest. Dorian is already driving, and Alli could be if she had any motivation at all. The thing that makes it special is that I remember the very first time I saw Olivia. Tracy had come to see me half-way through the Trooper Academy in Sitka. I had never seen Olivia before that. So she signifies my job, and my time on the job, and this period of our life. I have been on this job long enough for her to go from the womb to driver’s seat. For some reason that period between her laying on the beige flower covered comforter in the Sitka Motel 8, swaddled in a pink blanket with her dark big cheeks, dark eyes and black hair; to her posing for her permit picture just a couple days ago, that period is a blur. How did we get here from there?
Glenn's graduation from the Trooper Academy 1996
Yet, also, when I look back at the picture of my graduation from the Academy, 14 years ago, I see a young boy that I hardly recognize. I try to recall what I was thinking, where I thought I may end up. I don’t recall having any big plans other than working for 25-30 years and retiring; I don’t recall ever thinking that I may have 8 kids, or live in Soldotna. I didn’t know what life had in store for us, but I was pretty sure it would be exciting. At that exact moment, I am sure I was just happy that it was over, that that milestone which was so taxing was done and I was onto the next stressful challenge. I had no idea that some of my future best friends were only 15 years old at the time, that I would live in a log house, or ever own or want to own a 15-passenger van. Yet here I am, and there I stood, holding Olivia, Dorian and Alli in front of me and Tracy beside me. I was young, nieve, excited, skinny and I still had a little hair. And as l look back remembering, I wonder if I knew then what I know now how much would I have changed? I know this for sure, I am glad that little tuft of hair is gone, because I still have to teach at least 6 more kids how to drive and I would hate to be pulling it out all over the car.
A week of a lifetime in one post.
I realize that my blog posts have not been coming as fast and furious as in the past. This has been one of the busiest periods of my life. I feel as if I have some things to write about, but I am also trying to keep things in order, and my time in perspective. I want to thank those of you who take the time to comment and say such nice things. So without further adieu, I am going to wrap up the end of our summer guests in this post, even though I could probably break it down into another 3-4 blogs.
As I have said in the past, when family comes to visit it gives us an excuse to act like tourists, so act like tourists we must, and we did. One of the first things we did was to hike up to Russian River Falls. Our main goal was to see some bears, and I figured this was as good a place as any. We didn’t see any bears, but we did see a Bri, and she walked all the way the falls, 2 miles each way, in Crocs with no socks. Oh did I mention she was pregnant? That is more rare than a bear in my mind, and worth the trip. Their only complaint, not enough potties along the way. I didn’t have a problem, but apparently they are used to having privacy. Which, as we all now, is a difficult proposition on the Kenai in July. It was an exhilarating hike, especially on the way back as there was a noticeable pep-in-the-step of those looking for the outhouse at the trailhead.
Tina near the end of the hike and near the end of her life?
Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!
I told you that they really had to go. I don't know who did it but...........
......... I don't know what aunt Bev is doing here.
Because of the lack of bears, we had to take a dangerous white water rapids trip down the Kenai River. Now when I say whitewater rapids I mean we saw one small patch of white water, and it almost splashed on me! I like to live on the edge. It was a lazy, cold trip down the Kenai, a good way to take a nap. And yes, we saw a bear. It was one of the Russian River Bears tearing into a salmon, so hopefully that made the trip worthwhile. They did have some good sausage and cheese prior to departing, so that was something! I don’t think it was quite as exciting as they expected, especially after they geared us up into 25 pounds of safety gear.
Livy and Alli testing out some prom outfits, if daddy got to choose that is!
Looks like we are all ready to get in the yellow submarine.
Not sure if I want to be on the raft that this crew is running.
notice, only one cool cat is wearing camo, and sun glasses, and a sweet ball cap ( I didn't want anyone to know that I was taking a paid rafting trip down the kenai!) Note the extreme amount of patches on the port bow of our raft, hmmmmmmm.
Money shot! No, that's not Shyla.
Unfortunately I had to work a few days, so the family had to do a few trips without me. They took a trip to Seward and to Girdwood, and spent some time in Anchorage, shopping. Which, shock of all shocks, was their favorite part of the trip.
So during their time up here in the last frontier, they got to experience pretty much all of the Kenai Peninsula. It was fun to have the real housewives of Moberly here for a visit. They put a twinkle in Tra’s eyes and made us stop on smell the rotten salmon carcasses. I find it is easy to forget how awesome of a place we live in; and the best way to get that feeling back is to see it through the eyes of someone who is appreciating it for the first time. Much like helping someone to catch their first salmon or halibut, there is great joy in that.
Jo n Kassie checking out the dippers on the Kenai River
the gratuitous fireweed shot. The bee adds a special something.
Only Austin would wade 50 feet away from a melting glacier, and smile.
Glenn said if you drink a gallon of it, you will look like Angeline Jolie.
Exit Glacier in Seward
It's receding faster than my hairline.
glacial hike
Mom, I think we found something for dinner! Alaska Wildberry in Anchorage.
Sorry baby, but this one is going to have to sleep with us.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that the bear is a breeding ground for lice from foreign tourists.
So now we are back to reality, back to the grind, back to work, back to the rain and early mornings, back to school, back to the cycle of life on the Kenai Peninsula. Excited for what is ahead and what God has in store for us. I have a funny feeling the next time family visits us, the backgrounds will look a lot different.
Briana, Lana, Aunt Bev and Tina ( Austin is probably fishing or swimming in the Kenai River) You are all welcome to our house anytime. Thanks for the laughs and the memories.
Salty Dawgs
My favorite part of our recent family visit was the “trip”. If you have been a follower of our blog, you know we like to take a boat trip every year over to Jakalof Bay to pick some berries and fish for some halibut. We decided it would be a good idea to take the ladies out and let them experience special part of Alaska. Like any good mariner, I checked the weather regularly before the day of the trip, and not once did it look very good. But since we were just jetting across the bay, I thought we could pull it off. So off we headed, back to Homer for a little adventure.
The gaggle of gals headed down to the boat, while I parked the car, and I could see them milling around the boat. To their delight a seal had decided to make a home on the swim-step of our boat. Someone had the foresight to keep Austin from harvesting it, and instead they took pictures like they were in a petting zoo.
Security guard for the boat
"Hey Tra do you think I can bring it home with me?"
With the lines tossed, we were on our way. It was a very pleasant trip, for about 10 minutes, then we snuck out around the spit. In an instant we were in it, The Perfect Storm. Okay, perhaps not quite that dramatic, but at least 6-7 footers, which to a 24 foot boat are pretty decent. I calmly answered the cries of ” is this normal?” or”are we going to die” and” I trust you, you wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t safe would you?” With a very calm and sweaty palmed ” This is nothing; a piece of cake” . ” I have been in much, much worse!” I didn’t tell them it was in 121 foot deep sea patrol vessel at the time.
The day started out beautifully.
Very soon shades of green were popping up amongst the passengers. I could tell, as the talking quickly subsided, minus the screams as we would crest the waves, that there was some uncertainty amongst us. Perhaps they were looking for a Jonah, and they kept eyeballing me. I knew it was far too late to turn around, and perhaps far too dangerous, so onward, upward, downward, upward, downward…… we continued. Every once in a while I had to pull back the throttle to keep us from slamming off the top of wave, which tended to add to the excitement.
Then for some reason I thought I would say something to comfort everyone. ” As long as the engine keeps running, we will be fine. ” Hmmmm, that didn’t come out as I expected, and it didn’t cause the reaction I was looking for. Eventually, in what probably seemed like hours to some, we pulled into the cover of the bay and all was well. We managed to tie up safely, eat some fried chicken, and go pick some salmon berries. I am not convinced they thought it was worth it, but I think they had fun once we got there.
Man I am happy to get off that boat with all them women!
The real housewives of Jakalof Bay have found their new home!
Lana tore that rope swing up!
Tina showing off her trophy berries
It's a bald bear, it's a bald eagle, nope it's super berry picker.
A view into the bay
A portion of our bounty
After several hours, we decided to try to catch some halibut, and I was anxious to try a new spot right outside the bay. As we cast the lines, I sensed a slight tinge of nervousness, as I assured them it would not be nearly as rough as before, and it wasn’t. However the motion of the boat in a long, almost gentle swell, while at anchor, seemed to have an even more adverse effect on the briny crew. Soon there were heads hanging over both sides of the boat, and Tina laughing her head off in the cabin. I knew it was bad when my first mate, whom I had never seen sick, succumbed to chumming over the port rail. You just better be thankful my camera isn’t a smell-o-vision.
Hey first mate, whatchya looking at?
Salty dawg fail.
Due to my ultra -sensitivity to those around me, and my first mate begging me to go, I decided that it was time to move on, halibut or not. We had one last spot to try, and then we would call it a day with only berries as our prize. A pride buster for any old salt. Again, this was a new spot, but it was in protected waters. However, we would once again have to cross the straits of horror to get there. But as I assured them, the ride would be much smoother as we would be traveling with the seas. The sick and wounded climbed into the bunk area and off we went.
Passing the honorary salty dawg initiaiton.
Attempting the honorary salty dog initiation
Failing the salty dawg initiation.
We made it across without too much excitement and managed to drop anchor in some flat calm waters. Very quickly the herring laden hooks were weighted and dropped and there they sat for a lengthy time. It was poor fishing. A fine finish to a fine day.
Again, my ultra-sensitivity radar kicked in and I could sense that the ladies wanted to call it a day. Perhaps the cat calls of ” how much longer” ” when we can we go” and “there’s no fish” aided in tuning in my radar. So as we always do we pulled up one line at a time. Dorian the die-hard always waiting to the last second, kept on fishing while I reeled all other lines in. Now this strategy never works. I can never, not one time remember catching a fish by cleaning up one rod at a time; except today. With three lines in the boat I hear Dorian ” Dad I got one” and I look over at his rod bent over mightily and I knew instantly it was a good fish. Quickly we put Austin’s rod back in the water and in a matter of seconds he had a big fish on.
Dorian saves the trip once again
Dorian informed me that this was a good fish, and having boated a 160 pounder last year, I figured he would know. So there I was bouncing between Dorian and Austin trying to help them land their catch. I figured Dorian would land his first, but every time it got close it made a run for the bottom. unfortunately the two halibut conspired to get the lines tangled up and Austin eventually lost his. After a lengthy battle Dorian was able to bring his to the surface and I harpooned her as if she was Moby Dick and I was Ahab. She figured to be in the 60 pound range, not huge but often the best fighters. While we let her rest I put Austin’s rod back in the water and once again he hooked into a big one, and once again he lost it. DANG!
Homer Harbor (some stinking tourists in the foreground)
By then it was time to go. Considering the start of the day, the ill-fated journey ended well. We harvested berries, saw a ghost ( ask Tra about that one) got some great pictures, got enough halibut to share, earned some awesome stories, saw some first class chumming and grunting, and grabbed a McKinley Mac on the way out-of-town. Even though they failed some of the tests, I have now declared all on-board official salty dawgs. Next time we will look for some real rough water.
