Life: Idiotropic

One week camping:

Hide and seek in an empty house, lots of sandwiches and pre-made food, awkward standoffs between new puppy, new pregnant cat, and antique cat, short outings, dinner with friends, dinner out, storms, heat, humidity, air mattress living, finishing a great book. Felt the baby kittens kick for the first time. Cleaned cupboards, shelves, sorted through odds and ends left behind. Through a lot stuff away.

That was Week 1 in a nutshell.

And then the truck showed up. I checked the numbers. The same two trucks. Seals the same. Trucks the same. German movers - great ones.

A full day directing furniture and boxes into rooms I'd prelabeled with sticky notes. A full evening of unpacking. And days and days...

That's been it. Since last Wednesday, except for a grocery run, a dinner break with a friend, and this morning's trip to the airport to drop off Kirk, I've been buried in boxes, paper, and stuff. Lots of stuff. It's hot, I'm tired, and unpacking is losing its charm with each move. This used to be fun. It's not fun anymore.

I tried rubbing this brass lamp, but it's not working. Where's my Genie????

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=137132&id=674507268&l=a745affdbe

Last night the thunder storms rolled in dumping heavy rains onto our lawn which, with the suns prodding, awoke clouds of translucent flying bugs that rose from the grass in steam like waves. Those bugs brought a swarm of starlings - some with orange bellies and some with white - doing a rhythmic dance darting and looping above the patch of lawn. Every few minutes Elise would run through the swarm to stir up more bugs and the starlings would renew their feast with vigor. We probably had 30 small birds here and watched them for at least a half hour moving to the edge of the sidewalk without disturbing them. They didn't even seem to notice us. Photos of these rapid swarms were near impossible to get, but this one should give you just a glimpse - it's a small part of a larger flock.

Thunderstorms graced us again tonight around 10 hitting the coast first before we saw any rain, and creating a spectacular light show with strobe light flashes illuminating the clouds over the Med. We watched from the balcony, me with my camera poised, so I was happy to catch a few lightening bolts with my camera.













Of course these storms followed just after the morning that my landlord had come over to water the "brown spots" in the lawn for hours. I don't see any brown spots. Love my landlord, but I think I'll do my own garden now unless he wants to pay my water bill.

Friday night and for the first time since arriving here in Spain, we're finally going out for dinner.

Restaurants don't open until 9, so we left just after and headed down to the beach. El Turko was closed as are many normal businesses here as shop owners take their vacations in August, but El Nazareth was open with just a couple patio tables full and the inside completely empty, so we sat down and waited. No reservation. But that was ok. We ordered a tapas plate and calamari to start, then Paella Valenciana for 5. 8 toasted breads sat on the tapas plate topped with chopped tomatoes and herbs, then fat strips of fish and good Spanish ham. Tuna, salmon, herring and a few others I couldn't identify, but it was all delicious as was the calamari.

So relaxing. At 9:30 it was light out and the restaurant was near empty. By 10, crowds started to trickle in and even the boardwalk along the sand's edge began to fill with people of all ages. A group of teens came into the restaurant to order ice cream to go, then leaned against the cement wall separating the sand from the pavement and talked for hours. Families with small children and babies sat talking and eating together while the kids ran to and from the table in groups laughing and playing. Kids made normal kid noise. Some brought scooters and rode up and down the sidewalk while the adults enjoyed the peace. Some children ran and played at the nearby playground. My three ran to the beach and poked their toes in the sand within our view.

Large families, older couples, obvious tourists out of their element. And as the hour got later, the place got full and though the level of noise rose, it didn't offend. The sounds were happy ones.

The paella was served with 5 big spoons so we could all help ourselves and eat from the same large pan that it was cooked in, but I still got plates for the little girls. Delicious. I could eat that every day. We sat and watched kids play and couples walk their dogs along the boardwalk. By 11:30 when we were getting ready to go, the entire area had come to life full of people's movement and laughter.

Tired and not quite adapted fully for the later night, we left dessert for another day although it was killing me. I haven't had coffee in days and the tiny cups of java I saw at other tables called to me. But 11:30 is late enough, no?

We got home just before 12 with exhausted girls. Next time we go, we'll bring scooters, so that they can ride and play too.

(Tiara was not at dinner with us. :) We brought home extra paella for her, but she would not leave her puppy alone for so long. Such a good "mommy.")

And on the puppy front - all is well. She's been with us just under a week managing to squirm her way into our hearts. Her likes are plants of all kinds with a special interest in giant dry ficus leaves. Her dislikes are cats (she's curious, but scared), and the word "no." Oh, and she loves dirt - particularly wet dirt. The yard guys came today to fix the watering system and so there was a wet mess in front and Logan rolled and played, jumped and wiggled all around it.

Dirty, but adorable. We might just have to keep her. ;)

After a long day, a long move, days of camping in an empty house, this is just kind of nice.

This is the club in our neighborhood. Membership is included in our rent. It's within walking distance and has an eclectic mix of members from all over the world. Today I met ladies from Norway, Portugal, and Italy. Nice people.

I feel like little orphan Annie moving into Daddy Warbucks neighborhood. "I think I'm going to like it here."

Oh, but among the beauty of the mountains and the pools, there is, sitting on white plastic chairs poolside, the more brawn than brains bronzed lifeguard who would rather talk on his cell phone or read a novel than do his job. He's polite enough to finish his conversation while an Italian mother holds a towel over the hole in her son's head screaming "sangre, sangre!!!" Luckily the mother is smart and quick with her car. Her son was fine after 4 staples in his head. This was not due to any help by the lifeguard at all who actually stalled her leaving for the emergency room by 10 minutes only to get a coworker who (also brawn and bronze - no brain) just looked at the open wound and concurred, yep, needs staples. She should take him to the emergency room. A sense of urgency? A bit of a hurry? None. These boys sauntered to the scene like they were heading to the bar for a cool one. Guess it's Mom's on Guard here.

It seems that while there are wines that I don't enjoy as much as others, here in Spain, there is not a single bad Spanish wine (that I've found so far). This is, in part, due to the inspired beverage called Sangria which can turn any average wine (or even downright bad one) miraculously into something you want to sip, gulp, or chug, over ice on a hot summer day until the pitcher, tub, or bucket is empty.

The time came to clean the guest house and after a full month, we found just a few bottles of red sitting around. I didn't have time to steam off labels or even to copy them down, so this is my way of note taking. The photo of 6 bottle are the ones that aren't bad, but not great. I won't necessarily buy them again. But, they ended up making great sangria. The photo of three were all great. The one in the middle we tried first. Of the two on the sides, the first was better, but I don't remember which one we opened first that night. Was a nice night with friends we'd just met, a good meal with BBQ, kisir, and dolmas. Good wine flowing.

This entry will be almost sans comments since I have to pack up this place and head to our empty home.

The photos are from Bétera where we went this morning to do some banking. They are setting up for a festival hence the white painted streets with streamers. The tile is a mail slot set into the side of a beautiful house. About 30 seconds after I took it, I heard "hola, hola...," turned around and saw a lady walking to me. She asked what I took a picture of and when I told her it was the beautiful tile mailbox, her face lit up. She told me that her husband painted it and has painted a lot of ceramic tile in the town. "People don't understand it now," she said. It was a nice exchange. I think I'll go talk to her next time I'm in Bétera and see if she'll show me his other work.

Anyway, today I'm packing up the sprawl that's occurred in our guest house from the 4+ weeks living here and heading to our empty house. Our furniture and endless sea of boxes should arrive on the 12th giving us exactly one week to "camp" at home.

No internet there yet. I'll pop in and post a few photos once it's up again.

Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=133227&id=674507268&l=0ea5ad8250

Spanish Fauna: Big moth. Sitting on the ground, so we scooped him up to take photos of him. He didn't fly well, nor walk well. Seemed as though he might have been a bit borracho. Fell off the lemons, stumbled off the table, then fell onto Elise' bunny where we found him a couple hours later.




Wisdom from today: Do not lay in damp grass right after they fertilize it. Could produce a constellation of blue on previously clean clothes. Tiara and I made this mistake in our eagerness to take cute pictures of her (with hair and makeup done) and Logan. The previous day Tiara was absent from photos because it was her first full day with Logan after a long night and it took her a long time to actually get a shower. Such a new mommy! (Logan is doing great at night, but Tiara isn't sleeping well - mother worry? Plus she's setting her alarm and getting up every couple hours to check on Logan and take her potty.)

9 hours in the car. Not the 7 I'd hoped for, but totally worth it.

From the day we arrived we were told that EVERYTHING in Spain (other than the tourist industry) shuts down in August. So here I am, happy-go-luckily planning my Saturday to do a quick drive to Barcelona and back. The GPS said 3 hours and 40 minutes to the breeder's house. May be on another day. Not a Saturday. Not the 1st of August. Not when half of France were going home and all the Spanish were on the roads leaving it.

I appreciate the signs though. The first said "Accidente en 10km. Retencion en 2km." I was happy to get about 4 km down the road before the traffic stopped. Fully stopped. Car doors opened, people got out, talked to each other by the median, pulled out cigarettes and smoked. Some stayed in their cars with the windows rolled down and their legs sticking out. A woman wove in and out of cars "taking a walk" eating a peach. I was thankful that it wasn't a hot day. But I did get out, saunter down the road a couple cars behind and ask a couple guys how long this usually takes. "Depende." On the seriousness of the accident. This one seems bad. Could be an hour. I was happy he was wrong. Two more "retenciones" later and several toll booths and we found ourselves on a highway leading us winding up into the mountains where big terracotta colored homes sat precariously on cliffs edge as if ornaments hung on a giant tree. Villages with narrow winding streets lined with buildings sun faded from centuries ago. Women with scarves on their heads and baskets shopping. Then a steep road serpentine through the trees until it came to a really sweet village nestled in a valley that I'd love to explore some day, but couldn't today. So many photo ops missed. The views from the drive high up on the mountain were amazing.

We finally ended up in Castellcir - a tiny village with a round about at each end. We entered town, then called the breeder, got to the last round about as instructed, then called again just 60 seconds later and parked at the school just there. 5 minutes waiting and there she was in a cloud of dust from the tiny dirt road by the school. Eva, a tiny lady with short dark hair, slight features, a grand smile, and a chipped tooth. We followed her on probably the worst road I've ever driven, uneven dirt and rock, 8" gullies that I feared would swallow my tires if I slowed down. And arrived, finally, at a really run down stone building that looked more ruin that home, but served for her well - another lesson in the deceptive nature of websites, but a pretty house are not prerequisite for pretty dogs, so into her yard we went pushing past a sea of white tail wagging golden retrievers who wanted desperately to be loved by each of us before we were allowed entrance. The girls loved it. There we found amidst the 14 adult dogs, 4 darling puppies. The boy was sleeping in a corner and the girls all huddled under the picnic table trying to stay cool in the dry dusty heat. We stayed about an hour. Tiara played with the girls quickly falling in love with fatty. La gordita, we called her for a while. The biggest, strongest, prettiest of the girls. Though I could have taken the all home. The little girls played with the breeder's boys, picking unripe grapes and pelting each other with them. Eventually, we got the papers, paid, and got ready to make the drive back. Eva carried her to our van, cuddling her, loving her, obviously sad to let her go. She told us that she is the best of the litter and show quality though I don't think we'll ever do that.

Anyway, she did beautifully on the drive home. Cuddled in Tiara's arms sleeping most of it, happy and curious. She loves her toys and bark and leaves and dirt. And we all love her.

Breeder: http://www.diosneptuno.com/en/puppies.html
Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=132353&id=674507268&l=48e74def5f

Ahhh. I've found my beach. Just 25 minutes from my house in a nice village with a long boardwalk with small vendors that set up each evening selling ice cream and imported clothing and jewelry. The beach and it's boardwalk seem to stretch out forever, long and wide with silky soft sand and aqua water shallow enough to wade out into as far in as the dunes are away - it's wonderful. Gentle waves with no undertow. Lifeguards. People in all shapes, sizes, and colors playing paddle ball, jumping in the waves, reading in lawn chairs, and walking. I've never seen so many people just walking the beach. I am a beach walker. Sitting still has never appealed to me, and here, I will not be alone. As I watched the girls play, I saw in the constant flow of people obscuring the view from my lens, many people walk by once, then return, and some even walk back and forth several times in the time we were there.

Topless is the norm. And while I cannot imagine the pain of a sunburn, well, there. I also am learning to just not notice, or not be bothered. It's just normal here. So there they are. Bouncing, hanging, swaying as the ladies walk. Brown, white, red. And though I don't think it's particularly attractive, eh, it's their country and if my little ones have noticed, they must not care. No, I won't acclimate here quite that much.

So far Luci and I have been disappointed by the scarcity of shells, but we were able to find a handful. Jut a handful, but that was enough to console us, the beach combers of the family. Leaving a beach without a shells is like returning from a trip without a single photo.

Not to leave without a bit of "strange" - not that the beach attire wasn't strange enough - we returned to our car parked just in front of a stage now congested with an ecclectic assortment of sweaty people wearing some sort of shoe elevated from the ground on a bouncy oval. Aerobics in funny shoes. Sweat, the handful of awkward ladies who were clearly lost, the girls who couldn't concentrate with their tongue in their mouth, and the instructor wearing a thong under the ill chosen white yogi (not yoga) pants clinging damply.

We watched that for a good 10 minutes before driving away, then laughed hysterically later at the photos I took... the facial expressions and the women who really needed more support. :)

Loving Spain.

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=131455&id=674507268&l=646d88e2b5

This is Alex. She was a stray cat that lives in the gardens at the place that we're staying. From the first day we arrived, the girls have showered her with love, affection, and a name. Arianna is the one that named her. Elise picks her up and carries her all over the place. Alex just goes limp in her arms and tolerates it all. She purrs, she follows us around. She is absolutely wonderful. Within a week the girls were campaigning to keep her. Kirk thought yes. I said no thinking that Misha is old and shouldn't have to deal with another cat. Two days ago I noticed that her belly was getting big and her teats were swollen. Alex is pregnant. I thought yes. We need to make sure these babies have a chance. Kirk said no. But then, he saw Alex laying on "her" chair on the porch. He saw how the girls loved on her. He likes tabbys anyway. Then he fed her all the leftover scampi. That was it. There's no going back now. So, we now have enlarged our family by 4 paws. She'll have her kittens in a couple weeks (I think) which will be a wonderful experience for the girls. Then, when they are old enough, we will find homes or take them to the shelter with the hope for a happy outcome.

Misha is still with us. She's 21 and starting to really show it, but she did wonderfully on the move and I think she likes the small accommodations where she can't get lost and always find someone to snuggle with. Still affectionate, she is slowing down which worries me. Her hips are arthritic to the point that she her hind end falls over once in a while. We want to get her into our house and see how she does there when the stress of this move is over and she's in her permanent home. But we'll see. I'm worried and don't know if she'll make it to Christmas. I don't want her to suffer. So, we're all enjoying these moments. The littles argue over who gets to sleep with her and Tiara enjoys her quiet presence while she chats with friends on MSN. How she'll deal with Alex? I think she'll be ok. She's dealt with a lot of critters in her life and wold rather curl up on a bed than battle with another cat.

On Saturday our house will expand again, by another 4 paws, this time canine. We saw a puppy last Saturday that was adorable, but the situation was odd. We thought we were going to go see a little of puppies and had read about how to pick one. We were prepared to see the mother, watch the puppies play, then hold and play with our favorites. We arrived, were led inside the gate, then Esther went inside her home and brought out one darling white golden puppy and set her on the table. We didn't see the little, the mother, or where she slept. No choices. Just, here's the puppy. We all liked her ok, but didn't feel bonded with her. We wanted choices. So, this Saturday I'm driving to Barcelona (3.5 hours away) to see a breeder who has 3 puppies left for us to see and choose from. She's very nice, understands well what we want to do, and also guarantees the health of the puppy which the other breeder doesn't do. So, I think we'll come home with a puppy - a dog that Tiara's been wanting for years. At the top of her birthday and Christmas lists for, oh, probably the last 8 years or more.

The 25 minute walk in the hotter than hot heat of San Antonio just about killed me and instantly squelched any itchy-footed guilt about spending so much time lounging by the pool. Oh no. There is NO WAY I could have done sight-seeing today. It is "face of the sun" hot. Should have known by the empty streets that 3pm is not the time to be out. Shady poolside, here I come. I'll explore in September.

Over 100. Restless and grouchy. The kids are grumpy. It’s hot. Did I say that already. Kids play. Swim. Come in. Complain. Swim and play. I’m in and out. Trying to read, but it’s hot. Even too hot to tan. Sweat and flies - not my cup o' tea.

The one good thing about this heat of the laundry that dries in just a couple of hours where it was days before. Of course, the water is so hard here, I think my clothes will sprout calcified skeletons and walk off the racks themselves. Ugh.

PHOTOS:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=129891&id=674507268&l=e1426b5d30

Paraguayos. From Paraguay? I don't know. I looked these up on Wikipedia in English and Spanish and couldn't find anything. Paraguayo - as far as I know is a word referring to something from the country of Paraguay, but here, in my local grocery, these little fruits resembling squatty peaches are labelled by this odd name.

They taste, to me, a bit like a mild cross between an apple and a peach with flesh a bit crisper than a peach, but not quite as citrusy. The girls don't like them, but I think they are kind of nice. Not as sweet and sticky as a peach. A bit cooler - more refreshing.

Began my day watching synchronized swimming with the girls on TV. Spain won. Luci thinks she can do that. I don't doubt it. The US and Japan weren't there this year because of the "crisis." Crisis is a word that I'm hearing a lot here in random conversations. It's at the forefront of people's minds here and the scapegoat for anything going wrong.

I need new makeup, but all the foundation and press powder colors at the Mercadona are a lot darker than me. Either I tan significantly, or I will be ordering my "makeup for pale people" color translucent, online.

Other than the quick grocery run with Luci, we stayed home and played. I lounged in and out of the sun with a book, we watched the tremendous downpours of rain broken intermittently by shining sun, and the girls pretended that they were fish. Convincing little things. I think they are about to sprout gills. Elise went so deeply under water that the top of her snorkel was at least 1" below the surface, so she came up sputtering. I told her that if she took off the snorkel and just took a deep breath, she could swim without it. The rest of the day she swam all by herself in the deep part of the pool, following Tiara all over the pool. She's tireless and determined. Fun to watch.

All three little girls spent half the day playing with the large group of British youth here as a part of a church camp. They're learning to speak with a certain non-American inflection that is kind of funny to hear. And those long foam floatie things we Americans call noodles in the pool - in Brit speak, they are woggles. Elise likes the purple woggles best.

Tiara played ping pong and "hung out" with the French kids today. They speak very little English and she is too shy to try out her French, but they smiled and were polite together. A quiet group. The guitar player with his Beatles haircut told her he was going to sing in English. "Just the two of us. We can make it if we try. Just the two of us. You and I..." "Did you understand it?," he asks after? "Oui," she says and he beams with pride that he was able to sing in English. I wonder if he even understands the words. We don't know their names, so we talk about them mostly, according to the shirts that they seem to never change. Purple, the twin brother keeps staring at Tiara and watching her, but he's the quietest one. Dark hair and bright pale blue eyes. She's watching him too, but they mostly just smile at each other. Green is guitar boy - longer hair. Twenty is the older friend who speaks more English and made the mix up thinking that Tiara was in college. And "sister" is 12 and shy. Tiara smiled at her one day and "sister" just ran the other way.

Oh this Spanish schedule... at midnight walking through the gardens you can hear the clinking of silverware on plates and the quiet conversations. Coffee as my hydrant makes 0130 feel like 10. Sleeping until 10am, up until 2am. The lazy days of summer are liquid in Spain.

About a year ago I joined my Spanish friends for coffee at Noemi's house, a friend from Madrid. She's traveled a lot and is a bonafide foodie. Her husband had just returned from Spain with a few boxes of these, one of her favorite treats, something that she was gracious enough to share. It's always fun watching Noemi eat. Her eyes light up, the edges of her lips curl up as she takes a bite. She laughs and mmmms and just makes food look fun. So when I went grocery shopping and saw this familiar box on the shelf - here of all places, I was thrilled! A specialty of Leon, these flaky flower shaped pastries are made from layers of flaky pastry doused in powdered sugar. They are light and sweet and extremely messy. Must have coffee on hand.

Today (two-day)
n.
1. A period of time from about 10am until sometime after midnight on what was mostly 15 July, 2009 spent almost entirely under palms with a good book occasionally splashing into the pool just to cool off in which I acquired a bit more tan, ate some really good ice cream, and played ping pong and badminton with Tiara to the conclusion that it will take A LOT more practice to actually have a game, though all that bending over has GOT to be good for the abs.

2. A good day with minimal stress and a bit of humor and yes... drumroll, hysterical laughing. (Yes, by me, not at me)


The humor began ironically by accident first thing in the morning when Kirk sent me a note and signed it, "'Irk." I thought that he was making light of our moods, stressed and confined in a tight space these last few days. It was purely accidental, but amusing to me nonetheless. Kirk = irk.

Not to point the finger to him only, I did look up my "nickname" (not one that I really like much, but that's another story) for Tiara just to give us both a chuckle. The definition is mostly why my mother and I always hated the name "tiff."

tiff (tf)
So Kirk irks me and in a "fit of irritation" a "petty quarrel" begins. Sometimes names are way too telling. Like when I named Arianna thinking of the lovely musical "arias" and she was the one to first perfect the high pitched scream. If I only knew.

The hysterical laughing occurred tonight during our not-so-heated badminton match between Tiara and I... I serve, she hits it, I miss. She serves, I hit it back, she misses. Or she swings at the air twice, then serves it into a tree. That wasn't the funny part. That was the sad part. Elise was the humor being the "fetcher" girl, setting the rules with hands on hips and her most determined tone, not once, but three times because Tiara and I clearly didn't get it (and didn't obey.) So, if I miss it, Elise grabs it from my side of the net and runs it to Tiara. And if Tiara misses the birdie, Elise grabs it from her side and runs it to me. Fine. But then Tiara was hot, so Elise offers to get a hair band for Tiara "IF" we wait for her and "STOP playing until [she] gets back." We watched her walk behind the bushes and when she was out of sight, I served the birdie. Tiara went to serve it back and there was Elise standing there with her hands on her hips. "Guys!!! I will NOT get a air band for Tiara if you keep playing!!!" The next time we waited until she was inside, volleyed it back and forth a couple times, then made sure that the birdie was securely in my hand where Elise left it. "Oh good," she said when she returned, "Mom still has it." We got looks from passers by we were laughing so hard through this all. But this is Elise! She's 5. She's very small. And she has this sweet face with a dimpled smile that looks so non-threatening. Her hands on her hips and tone of voice are so commanding though that she can actually almost stop a game of volleyball over a hair band. Crazy.

Small successes to be proud of: ALL THREE of my little girls ate the same sauteed chicken that I made and... LIKED IT!!!! And, better yet, Luci and Elise who have been carefully nibbling the flesh out of their peach wedges as if it were watermelon, FINALLY TODAY decided that not only was the skin ok, but according to Elise, "is healthy and calms a sick tummy." When it comes to parenthood, there's nothing to small to celebrate.

Today = 3.5 hours at Caxton College to test all four girls because may be they might be able to find places for all four after my landlord spoke to a personal friend of hers who happens to be the director. We had NO idea that the kids would be tested. Tiara felt ambushed, but did well. We got a nice tour. They'll be in touch.

+ 3 or so hours divided into two different trips to our new house to see it, talk to the landlords, be social, and pick out paint colors. Will post more photos when it's cleaned, painted, and I'm in (around Aug 5th possible furniture delivery). Can't say enough about how amazing Manuel and Begonia are. So kind. They have antiques, art, and pottery that they are leaving in the house for us to use as we want. They are repainting the entire house inside and out. Begonia wants to take me shopping when we're ready to show me all the best markets/shops around and introduce me to shop owners that she's known for 20+ years. She'll teach us paella. They are SOOOO kind. It feels great to be there.

Reading, cleaning, cooking a little, shopping at the Mercadona, a store that I'm tiring of quickly...

I'm surprised and irritated by the high number of chocolaty, unhealthy foods. Half the cereals are chocolate. Most of the bread items are filled with chocolate cream. The fish selection is amazing. Of course, local Spanish ham is amazing. French and Spanish cheeses are available. Produce is fine. But I can't find the spices I want/need. Where are the crackers? I only see toasted bread and cookies. Many vegetables seem elusive as well. I need to broaden my shopping horizon and see some other grocers because this one is only ok for this hotel living thing where I don't cook anything fancy. When I do want to have more fun with cooking, the shopping part might become a mouse maze with shifting cheese.

They have Old El Paso tortillas on the bottom shelf at the end of an aisle and Oscar Meyer bacon in a tiny package. Philadelphia Cream Cheese is very popular in Europe, known at least, so I can always get that. Did find our favorite shampoo brand. Cornflakes. No cheerios. I'll have to get those shipped. And Bisquick. I need that too and can't find it here. At the end of it all though, it's the spices that will kill this... I NEED spices. Gotta go search the other stores. Or start a spice farm in my back yard.

Relaxing by the pool, jumping in, filling some time with random photos of the place.

Luci and Arianna are becoming more fish like by the day, finally tossing their snorkels to the side and plunging under water with only the masks. They're doing great.

Went for the beach for the first time today after arriving here just a week ago. Tried the Puzol beach, "our beach," that will be just 10 minutes away from our new house when we move in next month.

It's a long stretch of beach with long rocky strips protruding out to the deep water for the fisherman. Most of the waterfront is lined with a sidewalk and a continual line of attached beach homes with open patios where people sat talking and playing card games. At main entrance points there were a few restaurants with more outdoor seating than in.

The sand is gritty and coarse, more than any other beach I've been to with larger rocks randomly strewn about and no shells that Luci or I could find. So Elise built a tower of rocks and Luci collected a seaweed headdress for it. Tiara and I read under the umbrella and Kirk played in the waves. The waves are small and gentle along the long stretch of shallow water, so it's easy to walk out a ways and just play in the waves. A lot of families had floating devices that they'd ride the waves with and occasionally tip over. All the little girls tried to walk out into the waves a little, but all three got nervous and stuck to the shallow edge.

I'd like to find a better beach. This one was ok, but not fabulous. Luci and I need shells to satisfy our inner beach comber.

Walking back to find a restaurant, we saw a huge group of young, well-endowed, topless women. Something I'll get used to, but I think I prefer the older French women sun bathing to these "perky" Spanish woman playing sports.

At 6 then I was starving, had not eaten enough and needed food. At 6, all the restaurants here are stripping tables, washing linens, mopping floors, and cleaning up after the lunch hour not to reopen until 9. "?Esta abierta?" answered only with a strange look and a rigorous swish of the mop.

Plans foiled by the Spanish clock. Home for food after being set on a hot meal out. Gotta plan better here. Snack at home to tide me over. Dinner tonight served on our patio at 10. Kirk grilled and I made a cous cous salad.

Our rule about birthdays is that the birthday kid can pick pretty much what ever they want to do/eat - within reason.

So, Tiara picked French toast for breakfast which I had to prepare with a real whole vanilla bean since the Mercadona didn't carry vanilla extract. I'd never done anything with a vanilla bean before. It was strange. But I opened it up and scraped the thick black insides out and I think it worked. The kids didn't complain.

The Mercadona didn't carry sesame oil either for the beef bulgoki that she wanted for dinner. I should have taken this as a sign that today wouldn't be easy.

Tiara's requests were:
a) sleeping in which she did get to do a little more than we'd planned,
b) chatting online with her friends which she did late into the night while I read my book,
c) swimming which she did with her sisters when we got home from the city, and
d) going to Starbucks in Valencia which I didn't think would but hard, but was.

I've been to Valencia and know how the traffic and parking can be, so I thought it would be less stressful and more fun to take the train. We jumped into the van, programmed the GPS for the nearest Renfe station, and drove the 15 minutes to the station just 5 kilometers up the road in Riba Roja. Hmmm. There was a dusty dirt road that ended at nothing between two industrial looking buildings. Renfe station number 1, a bust.

So I programmed the next nearest station, also in Riba Roja, this one in the direction of the town center. Oh good! Of course, it makes more sense for it to be in the town center. We drove there, down really narrow two lane roads that had room for exactly one car, rounded corners that were almost too narrow for my car to clear, drove around a tiny square three times by the station until I finally parked illegally briefly just to run up to the station and get more information. The windows were boarded up with particle board and cardboard. The doors were locked. I rounded the corner to see that where there should be track, there was a smoothly bricked surface and a lively cafe fully of people having lunch. Renfe station number 2, gone.

So I asked someone walking by. He told me that the line had been cut short. The nearest renfe station is in Manises. Ok. So it took me a good 15 minutes just to get out of the town given the tight corners, strange signals, and one-way streets. Got out with my GPS programmed for the closest Renfe in Manises. The photo on the right is it. Down a forest lined road with nothing on either side. "Arriving at destination on right." And there it it. On right. A long strip of cement. Pipes on the side. No track. No train. No station. Renfe station number 3, elusive.

We'd been on the road almost an hour. Ok. Let's try just one more. We programmed yet another Renfe into the GPS - another one in Manises. This time we were hopeful. It is near the airport. It does make sense to have a station there. AND we saw a sign that said Renfe and pointed to the right. We turned, looked, drove all the way down one side of the street and back with several people honking at us. Finally turned around again then parked quickly to ask where it was. A man kindly pointed to the black building in the middle of the road. Parking? Anywhere there's a space, he said. There were no spaces. We drove by a rock concert gearing up. A crumby, dirty street. Not a place I felt great about parking. And nothing, so we pulled off onto another street, even shabbier, looked at each other, and parked praying our car would still be there when we returned. Got to the black building. It was a metro station. I asked the lady working there where the train is. There's no train here, she explained, it's down the road in Manises. A man in a orange shirt and an older heavyset woman in an embroidered floral skirt both stopped to talk to us and help us. I explained that it was Tiara's 14th birthday and we were just trying to get to the Valencia centro. They all talked together about the best way for us to go. Finally we got two round trip tickets - 6.60 total and a slow 25 minute ride to the Xativa station right in front of the main Renfe station and the Plaza de los Toros. So, Renfe station number 4 - still elusive, but at least we were on our way.

The train was slow - very slow, so that the lights in the tunnels were visible separately and barely blurred. The signs inside were all bilingual written in the local Valenciano and Castellano, the Spanish language that we are mostly familiar with.

Arriving 1 hour and 45 minutes after we left, I probably could have driven it in 30. Oh well. We learned something. At least in my village, I know where the train station is.

I remembered Valencia well and the streets and directions. Tiara, of course, remembered exactly where the Starbucks was, so it was a quick walk until we were inside the spacious cafe where just a handful of people sat with their coffee. We both ordered Venti frappuccinos then both decided that Venti is too big and these particular ones were a bit sweeter than we cared for. Next time we'll get Grandes and add an extra shot.

From there we wandered in and out of clothing shops. July is a big sale month in Europe, so almost every window had large signs with "Ofertas" written in bold print. Disappointment. The first shop had tons of badly organized, picked through styles for dirt cheap prices, but nothing that was even worth trying on. Another store, Zara, had a few things that were ok... some basics, but a lot of crazy colors and styles that were just not us. Sfera at Corte Ingles had us down right terrified and convinced that we'd only be shopping online from here on out... bright neons, crazy patterns, 80's style hammer pants, lots of ruffles. We walked all the way down the Calle de Colon and back. Even went into H&M and found nothing. Finally, happily, we found Massimo Dutti - an amazing store that looked very high end, but had an amazing sale and beautiful clothes in colors that we could wear!!!! Yeah! We each got a couple things and then felt like ok, coffee and shopping complete, we could go home and feel like we've been successful in our outing. Stopped at a delicious gyro shop before we got on the Metro and lucked out with a train that actually made the lights blur on the way back.

Happily, our car was still there when we got back to Manises and rounded the corner. We'd been seriously worried. Made several wrong turns in and out of the airport loops trying to get back to the house. Kirk called. "We're at the airport. On the way home." I'm sure he thought that was strange. Got back for a swim while Kirk made bulgoki stew and then we had a chocolate mousse cake from Mercadona under protest because I'd forgotten the candles and according to Tiara, it's not a birthday without the candles. I'll make my chocolate espresso torte when she's 14 years and 14 weeks and we'll have 28 candles then. :)

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126822&id=674507268&l=98693ec66f

An entire day spent inside my oasis, this little compound sitting, reading, relaxing, and enjoying the last few sips of a bottle of wine we opened on Wednesday night. A day of small pleasures needed after yesterdays drama.

1. An amazingly good wine. I wanted a good wine for Wednesday's company, but the most expensive bottle I could find was only 6 Euros. Yes, I realize that price and flavor aren't always connected, but still, knowing nothing about the local wine, it was all I had to go off of. 6 Euros got me a full-bodied, fruity red reserve from 1999. Delicious. Not to dry, nor sweet. I'd buy another bottle or two just to have around. We finished it tonight. Still good.

2. A book that is easier to finish than begin. Finding time to read is precious but here I've renewed my interest in a book that quite frankly lost me at the last read. The Zookeepers Wife - great story lost in bad writing that, thankfully, is picking up here towards the end.

3. Familiarity. Although I enjoy adventure and never actually eat the pancakes that I cook, it gave me joy to smell the familiar smell of my pancakes and to watch the girls rapidly pick them off the plate. A little taste of home in this new place that just isn't yet.

4. Joy in confidence. Arianna and Luci got out their snorkels and face masks tonight, jumped into the pool, and started swimming really well back and forth confidently. Smiling from ear to ear, excited and joyful. A joy to watch. Infectious energy. Tiara also helped Elise on the noodle until she mastered it paddling herself all over the pool by herself.