Life: Idiotropic

Summer is a good excuse to slide into the crazy Spanish schedule. Sleeping until 9 (or later), getting the kids down at 11. Seems strange when I look at the numbers, but it’s natural here, at least now, in the summer before the reality of the school year begins. Eleven (yes, pm) is a perfectly acceptable dinner hour here. Restaurants open for dinner at nine. A friend didn’t get seating last night until 11:15. It’s dark then, but cool with a nice breeze and people are out.

I read the rules in our guest house guide today... quiet hours are, appropriately, from 9am until 11pm. Funny. But it’s quiet most of the time here with mostly happy voices of kids playing on the trampoline near our bungalow.

Today was slow. I was irritated once again by these tiny bodied black flies that look like specks with wings. They don’t bite or fly at you, but they are funny looking and just there. In the shower. Sitting on the wall. It’s like spiders on the ceiling. They may be well intentioned, but I still don’t trust them.

Tuesday now, it’s been 48 hours since we ran our first load of laundry here with a washer that does a barely adequate job and still, we have things, even cotton things, from that first load that aren’t dry on the racks outside. About three loads now sit on my patio... in the view of anyone who cares to walk by. Not my idea of privacy, but damp undergarments are also not an option. I miss a drier - the softness of the clothes, the light fragrance... the clothes on the rack are stiff and smell, well, not horrible, but not like the dryer sheets I like which translates into not clean smelling to me whether they are or not. But the water is hard here... a thick layer of white covering the walls of the bathtub among other things, so I think I’ll keep the washing to a minimum.

I did accomplish one thing today - to make a few dozen wrong turns onto and off of strangely intersecting highways that doubled what was supposed to be a quick drive to the American school where I finally arrived to find out that Tiara who was supposed to be the hardest to place, has a slot and the other three don’t. I’ll call again next week as I was told, and try to hold out hope, but if they don’t go there - in our neighborhood, then they’ll go to Cambridge house who has been the kindest on the phone and has slots for all 4, but don’t have bus service which translates into about 2 hours a day driving back and forth for me, not impossible, but not how I want to spend this next couple years in Spain either.

We (meaning I) tried to do something touristy today - to see an enormous castle ruin that sprawls out across a hill near our home, but 5 minutes away in full view, the kids whining got unbearable with all 4 in revolt, so I gave in to allow them a carefree evening of swimming and eating ice cream under the palms. Rough life they have.

My first experience with a celsius oven, I completely burnt the girls pizza. The coffee pot; however, was easier to manage and so I successfully made my first pot of Spanish coffee, a brand that I got at the Mercadona with a label of 4/5 - one of the stronger brews meant only for about 4 in the afternoon, but something I’ll drink any time I’m awake. Refreshing after the last few years of the bitter German stuff that is only good in macchiatto form or when Tinny makes it.

Typing this on my mac to post later or move later to Kirk’s computer hooked up on the island in the kitchen. We seem to have a WiFi cloud following us around Europe where we only book places with WiFi/internet and strike out almost every time. The computer guy was here over an hour just in my bungalow tonight. Couldn’t get his computer to work either. Finally told the owner that the WiFi is too old (3 years old) and can’t communicate with newer computers. May be by Monday, it will be fixed.