Day 43: Rain drops keep dumping on our heads

The rain wouldn’t stop. Instead, it just got stronger. I woke up, what felt like, every twenty minutes from the racket. I couldn’t hear anything else; no birds, no frogs, no people, no music, no singing, no yelling, no engines, nothing…just rain. It sounded like our room was filled with people applauding around our bed, right next to our ears. That combined with my dream that our bed was filled with bugs (not the first bug dream I’ve had here), gave me probably the worst night’s sleep since we’ve been in Costa Rica. I’m contemplating stepping in the ring with Benadryl tonight so it can knock me out.

I wasn’t optimistic about it letting up and it was too heavy for our saran wrap ponchos. I really wanted to get to the internet café and post some blog entries and open my unread emails. Mike also had to return his loaner board to the surf shop in return for his own board. So we waited. And waited some more. And then, when we had already resigned to the fact that it wasn’t gonna stop and were busy battling a troop of tiny worker ants trying to takeover our bathroom, someone pushed the mute button. We looked out the window and made a run for it.

Walking through the lake that surrounded our pool and flowed into our driveway was not fun. I worried about stepping on things like the bloated dead frog that was floating in a puddle last week. Or a live snake. Or worms and lizards. Or Mickey’s poop. I’m determined to find a pair of galoshes this weekend. Or maybe those rubber fisherman pants that go up to your waist with suspenders.

We thought someone had shut it off but really, it was just intermission and the progression began again - the opening act before the real concert. We made it to the internet café and stayed dry in there for a few hours before heading back through a steady stream. Since the surf shop was closed (probably due to the rain, who surfs in this?) Mike had his surfboard as protection from the drops and the return of The Puppy. He was 50 yards away, sitting in the dirt road staring at us with his tail wagging. We stopped and stared back (cue old Western music). Mike and I grabbed our sticks and boldly warned him to stay away (which sounded as mean as baby talk with a lot of “good puppy” thrown in). And then the jumping and nibbling began.

The sticks distracted him a little but he was more interested in Mike’s zipper, which was worth standing in the rain a few seconds longer to grab that pic. Eventually, the only thing that stopped him from following us was Mike’s surfboard, acting as a wall between him and his crotch. As we walked away, he stood in the middle of the road, getting rained on, looking defeated. Poor puppy…he’s just a little crazy (and we’re used to that with Marley…awww Marley…we miss him soooo much).

We waded through the lake back to our front door and as I sit and write this, we’re still being dumped on. Quoting Mike a few minutes ago, “I haven’t seen this much rain before at one time in my life.” We’re really hoping this isn’t the beginning of the rainy season and Matt’s month long visit gets rained out. So get it out clouds, as much as you can before he gets here in a few days. Even though we really need to go grocery shopping. We’re in desperate need of very important things like toilet paper and dark chocolate.