I first heard of the to-me-strangely-named Ding Repair Cafe when my friend Debbie Polelli recently posted that it was her new go-to favorite in town. And that our yoga teacher, Delaney Wray, worked there two days a week. The next day while in town I noticed a colorful, graffiti-style mural on the wall of a building across from Dolce Vita with the words Ding Repair on it and I guessed that it must be the new Cafe’s location. Except it looked more like a surf shop, maybe even a closed one at that, than a hip new cafe like Debbie’s …

My view this morning when I first woke up. It didn’t last long but it was there.

We’ve lived in SJDS three years now and I just had the privilege of meeting my personally, first-ever, really ugly Gringo here. And his ugly gringo behavior wasn’t even directed towards locals but rather was directed towards me and my husband when we tried to sit down at an empty table at the back side of Iguanas to watch the upcoming Hipica (horse parade) on the street down below He said he was saving the table for friends – even though he had empty seats at his own table. I typically don’t post negative things for my nuggets – unless …

Today when I walked into town at 9:30 the tide was rising and the panga ferry wasn’t on the river ferrying people across. The water came up to my knees but I had pulled my tights up and made it across without getting my clothes wet. No such luck when I headed back home around 12:30 after my yoga class and the panga ferry still was gone. This time the tide was cresting and the river/sea water came up to my crotch. I was glad I wasn’t heading anywhere but home. So…where was the panga today? Does anyone know?

A twenty-minute walk from my house along the Chocolata Road is one of my new favorite places. Well, not exactly new in that I have always loved Nacascolo Bay, the bay immediately to the north of San Juan del Sur’s bay. But before, it was wild and undeveloped and I loved it for being wild and undeveloped, the green jungle extending all the way to the sea. Whenever we gazed down upon it during our daily hikes to the Cristo statue or John and I hiked along it’s relatively calm, protected shore, we seldom saw another soul. Or if we …

After the stormswe clean up. We dry the wet towels usedto sop up the floor. We look at the black marks on our white ceiling and wonderWill bleach clean that up?Or do I have to find the leak, fix it, replace the drywall and paint?Do I wait until rainy season ends before I even bother? After the storms we rush outside,soak up the sun,set the hammocks back up,resume water aerobics. The garbage gets cleared off the beach.The smaller driftwood is gathered into piles and burned. The larger driftwood, the size of trees, rests on the beach.While the washed up boats …

While waiting for the storm, or round 2 (3?) of these seemingly huge rains, John and I stretched our legs today by walking to the beach to look at the size of the waves. Yes, they were bigger than normal but not BIG. What we did notice though was that despite the air feeling cool (hallelujah), the air was so water saturated that our skin’s pores weren’t exactly sweating but were rather becoming one with the air. Yes, as we watched the waves while waiting for the rain and we rejoiced in the overcast coolness, our poor pores were pouring. …

A couple of days ago I posted photos showing that the river, which separates downtown from the neighborhood where I live in La Talanguera for part of the year, has officially once again joined the sea, here in San Juan del Sur’s bay. I showed pictures of the predominantly plastic garbage that inevitably gets washed downstream with the rise in the river. Wow, even what looks like an entire tree! Now, THAT would have been interesting to see floating down the river! I’m glad the panga was safe and that they were out working because that’s the only way John …

Wednesday it poured. In buckets. We even let the neighbor’s two dogs (who have adopted us) inside our house for the first time ever because with the wind blowing the rain in from the west, they were shivering out on our covered front porch. The rain thrashed against the corrugated tin roofs. It turned the dirt roads to mud. Otherwise dry indentations within them became rivulets of flowing brown water. And with that the river rose. And the river joined, for the first time in six months, the sea. Sweeping its banks and earlier-dry gullies clean of plastic bags and …

Isn’t it beautiful? The Turquoise-browed Motmot, or as Nicaraguans call it, the Guardabarranco. It’s Nicaragua’s national bird. And this one I found dead today on the dirt road John and I walk every morning on our hike up to the Christ statue and back. I didn’t want to touch it (I’m pathetically squeamish) so I have no idea how it might have died.