Ella & Jennifer Mooney
By Volunteer Anne Hill
Jennifer Mooney came to Costa Rica with a desire to see “a real jungle.” She left with a desire to change the world.
After traveling to Manuel Antonio and learning about the efforts of Kids Saving the Rainforest, Jen realized two things. The first was that the rainforest is a vital and vanishing resource that must be protected.
“My heart will forever remain with the amazing creatures of Costa Rica and their fight to survive in a world filled with change and development,” she noted.
By Nancy Buchan
Boy, we love our dogs, don’t we? My deaf, slightly doddering, small white fur ball of a dog took me to the beach tonight for sunset, and while we were sitting on a log contemplating important stuff I noticed the folks who looked the happiest were the ones with dogs. And there’s quite the assortment of these 4-legged critters here, from pocket sized yappy things to big brutes with studded harnesses. Much like this country in general—rich in variety. Which got me to wondering why so many songs about dogs are wicked sad, or they are about getting treated like a dog, or mean people say someone has a dogface. Like that’s a bad thing. We unabashedly love our own dogs’ faces and believe them to be beautiful. Like music, art, good food, a beautiful sunset and small children, they are one of our few universally shared joys. They can melt the most frozen of hearts. But there’s a long musical tradition of us tangling up our love for dogs with sadness and getting the blues.
Some Easy ways to Protect your Home (& Boat) from Mold
By Shelagh Duncan
What is Mold?
Molds (and mildew) are fungi. Fungi are not plant, animal or bacteria, they are microbial. They are responsible for such wonderful organisms as the delicious edible mushrooms, they are the makers of the “miracle drug” penicillin and the yeast that makes our bread rise, our fine wines ferment and our richly flavoured cheeses taste so good. They play important roles in bio-technology and food science in the production of many foods, beverages, antibiotics and enzymes.
By Jim Parisi
Ernest Hemingway’s fiction speaks volumes about the author. There is no mistaking the Hemingway persona and bravado in the main characters (usually named Nick Adams) of every one of his novels. And countless biographies have been penned about Papa in an attempt to analyze the man, the myth, the machismo.
I’ve just finished “The Paris Wife”, an historical fiction by American author Paula McClain. The title refers to Hadley Richardson, Ernest’s first wife. The story is told from Hadley’s point of view, in her voice, which is a unique approach. Hadley Richardson, nine years older than Hemingway, meets the young writer in Chicago in 1920. Within a year, they were wed and departed for Paris and points beyond, including Switzerland, Spain and Italy.
By Nancy Buchan
There’s nothing like a nice soft rain to lull one into indoor inactivity. A book and a hammock are my first choice, but for those of you with a higher metabolism you might want to find things to do besides gardening, or hiking or any of the outdoor stuff here that is normally so much fun. So, keeping the focus on music, here’s a few things you can do while there’s a deluge going on outside.
If you are going for the book and hammock diversion, there are tons of biographies and auto-biographies out there about musicians. I’ve read bunches of them—from Frank Sinatra to Willie Nelson to Frank Zappa to Linda Ronstadt, and they are all interesting, even the ones about musicians I was never much interested in. Like Steven Tyler—who wins for the best title, Does the Noise in My Head Bother You?
¿How do you say “there is” or “there are” in Spanish?
Exactly, say /aɪ/.
The way to say “there is” or ”there are” in Spanish is:
¿How do you pronounce it?
¿How do you write it in Spanish?
By: Duncan Coleman
The darkness was setting in on the “secret” garden. The night’s grasping fingers had finally prevailed over the shining rays of the sun. My mind swam in a sea of uncertainty. Panic was overcoming me. Questions surfaced from the depths of my consciousness like so many crashing waves in a tempestuous ocean. Would she ever come down? Would she sleep in the tree all night? What would happen if I lost her? Will she die?! A bloodthirsty swarm of mosquitoes now descended upon me in the twilight dusk, buzzing in triumph at having secured a new host. Now I questioned whether I would make it through the night.