I have dirty feet. For real. And I am the kind of person that if I’ve been at a killer beach party, or chillin’ around my outdoor/indoor house and am tired, I AM NOT WASHING MY FEET before getting into bed. I know so many of you will think this is disgusting, but too bad It’s not happening. So, new plan for our future Nica house? No white fluffy bath mats or mats of any kind near a white or beige hue. Foot baths (to rinse sand and perhaps keep the black feet a trifle at bay) at entrances to every door, followed by a DARK towel wipe off. And lastly have a good supply of nail polish remover on standby. For I have realized I’m not going to clean the sand under any nails 50 times a day. So really it’s just easier to paint all nail growth some fun and bright color that distracts people from the fact I do not have a mani or pedi and hides my true beach bum lack of much personal grooming.

I also just hit an all time new low of travel living.

I have a bag for the beach, with some hair product that occasionally tames my irate frizzy, matted surf hair into a surfy yet somewhat beachy doo, that is not too scary. I have a change of cloths to put on after we rinse off either with our beach bottle of water to get the salt off, or under a hose at our friends local restaurant. We were planning a nice dinner after surfing sunset, so I thought I was all prepared until I found myself without any brushing paraphernalia. Usually I can use my fingers but my hair was having a bit more than a few unruly days. So being the resourceful woman that I am, I dug through my bag, and found a solution. All time low? Brushing my hair with a plastic fork I had saved from a take out stand, as I did not want to throw the plastic away. Did a not bad job actually, I will keep it for other emergencies.

Shaving thy face. When it happens, and that can be weeks, EJ’s latest trick is to use the worlds slowest and dullest electric razor to shave his face in odd locations. Flaked out on the bed talking to an adopted cat, in a hammock, or overlooking a sunset. Takes 30 min but looks very relaxing.

Living in an open concept house. Creatures inevitably come and very thankfully go. We have had a bat dive-bombing us daily in the palm frond roof of our palapa, until EJ was worried of getting a mouthful of hairy, smelly, salty bat. Like the two turtle doves, it found it’s way out eventually.

Or the monster spiders that decided to live in our electronics bag that is filled with ipod chords, batteries, and chargers. They were helped out with a broom. The baby skunk that was sitting mesmerized in our living room having a stare off with EJ, contemplating to spray or not to spray? It turned tail up and trotted off thankfully taking it’s ripe scent with it. Or the termites that moved onto one of the supporting poles in the bathroom, quickly (like overnight quickly) making what we fancy as a poo tunnel to hide in, that reaches from ceiling to the bathroom sink.

Washing cloths? It does not really happen much unless really needed. EJ’s new trick is pick the stinkiest shirt and go surfing in it, rinse, and throw it in the sun to dry. Voila clean! If it still does not smell perfect, smear on some clear deodorant and your good to go. That’s almost as bad as taking our dirty cloths for a swim in the neighbors pool.

Life down here becomes so slow and simple that you begin to see the clear reality of life back in Canada or the US. Gone are checking phones every minute or sending needless texts. We are happy to be able to work from here, check emails occasionally, and have a local crap phone that you do not want to text much on because it’s too much work.  Facebook is good to keep in touch but we go days or weeks without logging in, and when we do find ourselves on it, sending a quick hello or pics. People come to our house if they need us, the rule being if the stereo is loud and we are not seen, wait half an hour or come back later.

One thing that is very similar to home is that our place seems to be a hub of BBQs or sunset antics. New friends that feel like old ones, both local and expats, filter in with a bottle of rum or fresh fish for the BBQ. Someone is always coming or leaving and there seem to be endless reasons to get together. But as we flow with the days, we seem busier than ever as we accept cool opportunities or make our own.

Truth: I really love my new machete and slingshot.

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