Nuria

Nuria, my Costa Rican lady friend, is like the Eveready Bunny. She goes and goes and just won't stop going. 

She got up early this morning—around 5AM. She worked on some kind of project on her laptop. I don't know exactly what she was doing, but she helps some of her American friends manage their property in Costa Rica. She's their interface to a Spanish-speaking lawyer that is involved in the property management. There's a little corporation, and Nuria is the Treasurer, and the owners of the property are using Nuria to interface to the government agency that is trying to make Nuria's employer tear down his handyman's family home because he (the American) won't pay the expected bribe to the government people. Or something like that. I've probably gotten something wrong here, so I'll have to let Nuria explain, if she feels like doing it—but she's not here at the moment.

She left the house for her morning walk at 8AM. She usually walks for about an hour. 

Where is she now? She's going to Walmart to buy canned food items for the local food pantry. She also took the empty gas can I use for lawn tractor gasoline and she'll get some gas so that I can mow the lawn later this week. After that, I don't know. Probably, she will prepare lunch, wash and dry the laundry, and so on. She's always moving.

She's not here, so I prepared lunch for myself: two scrambled eggs, two crisp slices of bacon. I don't know what she wants to eat. I'll leave that—preparing her lunch—to her.

Oh, she just got back home. I opened the door and she handed me a container of gasoline. Then she returned to her car two more times to bring in six bags of canned food items—to be donated to the local Food Pantry.

She's also trying to collect donations for the local animal shelter. The only thing standing in her way is, ironically, the local animal shelter. But that's another story and you can guess the problem: managers who can't manage. At least, that's the way it seems from this blogger's desk.