Panama Farm Life January 14, 2025

 Codi is out.  His morning routine is underway.  Barking at the farm workers that pass by our gate on their way to the bus stop is an important job.  This oddly comforts me rather than annoying.  I seek anything familiar and routine in this, a chaotic and devastating, start to 2025.

The normal routines of the farm go forward as if nothing else in the world impinges.  The horses clang their feed buckets as the sky yields pinks and corals heralding the sun.  The nocturnal sounds recede as the morning birds fill the air with their song.  I take comfort.  I need comfort.  Los Angeles, my childhood stomping grounds, is burning to the ground.

This new year began with family visits.  Cousins on both my mom's and dad's side have finally come to see what our Panama farm life is all about.  There will be a constant flow of family through the next few months.  I am my mother's daughter... I delight in this company and the ability to reconnect, update and revitalize the family ties.  In this decade of my life, family and the tangled roots that come with it is of prioritized importance.  Thank you mom Shirley and auntie Geraldine!  You were spot on with your forecast from years ago as to what my future attitude would be.  You both certainly must have had a crystal ball where I was concerned.

In December, we determined that Rocinante was ready to be returned to the beach farm that is Carlos' land.  Che and Rocinante mix it up and the paddocks are too small to accommodate horses that don't get along.  I have seen the devastating result when horses intend on damaging one another.  That won't happen here.  I will see to that.  And Rocinante was not being ridden enough to burn off his energy.  He is a youngster compared to the rest of the farm animals.  Gary and I included.

One afternoon during the December holidays, Carlos brought the truck to transport Rocinante back to the open fields on his farm near the beach.  Panamanians do not use horse trailers.  Their mode of transport is a flatbed truck with a metal cage constructed to contain the animal within.  The trucks are a bit too high off the ground for most horses to leap into so a berm, rockwall or other natural ramp is used to assist with the loading.  Our natural ramp is part of the stairway access to Carlos and Amanda's house.  It is a short rock wall consisting of stacked rocks and backfilled with dirt.  It had been successfully used for this purpose...up until Rocinante's intended departure.

After two hours of coaxing to load him into the truck, using a variety of methods, Rocinante was hot, sweaty, irritated and completely lathered up.   Not going to go.  Uh uh.  No way!  Treats, whips, blindfolds...nada...not going. He loves the farm life here.  Doesn't love Che.  The natural ramp took a complete beating.  Rocks and dirt spread everywhere and the height of the ramp was reduced by more than 12 inches.  Three of us unscathed but helpless with this 1000 pound recalcitrant equine. Note to self...rebuild the natural ramp with rebar reinforced cement.  Add to the list of projects for the dry season.  Meanwhile, Rocinante remains here for a time.  Sometimes you are the bug.  Sometimes you are the windshield.

Lilly is now 8 months old and is so very proud of her first kill.  A field mouse.  I watch as she disengages from ball chasing with the other dogs and begins to track something.  She disappears from view for awhile to return with a long tail sticking out of her cheek.  I call her to me.  Nope.  The prize is stashed under the parked car.  OK by me.  The field above us is overgrown with purple flowers and weeds. Perfect rodent cover.  Each year at this time the plants produce seeds that are spread by sticking to whatever brushes against them.  In this case...Lilly.  She comes back into the house covered with little green sticky balls that take a good hour to remove.  Not the first time and I know not the last time.  The next morning, another kill.  Poor mice.  The killer-dog-on-the-loose memo is yet to be circulated among them.

The long labor of the new villa construction has finally ended.  Well...except for a few final items such as a glass shower door to be quoted and installed and a library type ladder to afford access to the storage space between the ceiling and the roofline about 10 feet above the floor.  Even though the finish date was much later than desired, the timing might just be perfect.  The tsunami of expats looking to move or retire out of the U.S. to Panama began a few months back. Many are looking to rent for a year or more to determine if and where they might want to live permanently; buy or build. 

Our challenge will be to find folks compatible with our farm lifestyle and progressive attitude.  The outside world is devisive enough at the moment.  We don't want this to be the vibe on our farm.  Love animals?  Want privacy? Interested in growing vegetables organically? What about grooming horses or boarding one of your own here? You might just be the right renters!  Should anyone reading my blog have possible candidates, let me know via email and I will forward the rental information and pictures. My cousins that visited in December have friends already in the process of moving to Boquete.  Yes, a small world. 

During December to January, the transition from the rainy season to the dry season, dry sunny days alternate with overcast misty days.  The winds have changed now blowing from the north, the Caribbean coast, as opposed to winds coming from the Pacific coast on the south.  Storms come from the Pacific.  Mist comes from the Caribbean. The warm ocean water sends moisture laden air over the continential divide where it cools and condenses. The prevailing winds blow it through the Boquete valley where it settles as mist.  The translation of 'Boquete' from Spanish is 'gap'. Portuguese is, well.... 'blow job'.  It is an apt description of the whipping winds the gap experiences for 8 to 10 weeks per year as the dry season arrives.  

With the mist and the winds, the clouds part and the sun plays with the mist producing multiple rainbows that dance across the valley. Boquete is known as the valley of rainbows.  The mist also keeps the vegetation from drying out too soon.  The dry season typically produces some afternoon showers but last year the rainfall was minimal.  All but the tall trees became crunchy tinder.

Another project for this dry season is to dig a pool for the pig.  He needs a watering hole to lie in.  Mud is a plus. I mentally shop the best areas among the paddocks to install this.  And the list goes on.  The front door chain bell jangles.  It is Alex our farm worker.  He hurt his back a few days ago and finally saw the doctor this morning.  The medical paper requires two days off and injections of steroids.  He will be evaluated for spine injury but hopefully the problem is muscular.  The dry season project list is now on hold.