Monday, March 30, 2015

True Colors

Summer has returned to the Costa del Sol. Just in time for Easter. I won't be surprised if winter rears its ugly head one more time. But, at its worst, winter here is really only mildly unattractive. Winter in New York? Now that was ugly.

OUR TRUE COLORS.
(CLICK IMAGES TO ENLARGE.)

I'm feeling great again (well, except for the hernia).

Our American passports expire soon, so after a brief phone conversation last week with the American Consular office, we went this morning to have new photos done and to submit the paperwork (and pay).

Everything went smoothly, although not necessarily pleasantly. I will say that, like bureaucrats everywhere, American bureaucrats are alive and well (and officious).

There was a large sparsely furnished waiting room separated from the work area by a high counter topped by an impenetrable glass partition. The first thing I noticed through the glass was a laser-printed sign standing atop a file cabinet in the background. It's a quote I've seen often over the years. However, it's a quote I would never expect to see in any consular office.

"Just when you think you've made it idiot-proof,
someone comes along and makes a better idiot."

I was tempted to comment on the inappropriateness — and offensiveness — of the sign, but didn't want to risk creating any kind of snag in our processing. At any rate, I didn't know if San Geraldo had also noticed the sign. And, since, he was already having a difficult time distinguishing between his inner voice and his outer voice, I decided to let it pass. San Geraldo reigned it in. We smiled (insincerely) and said, "Thank you."

STILL LOOKING FOR BLUE SEA GLASS.  TODAY'S BITS.

So, we're both feeling well, our passport renewals are in the works, I spent this afternoon at the beach, and it's Holy Week, which means we're going to enjoy a procession or two in Málaga. Some things at least do get better.


In the words of Cindi Lauper...

Friday, March 27, 2015

When Life Gives You Lemons?

San Geraldo baked his indescribably incomparably excruciatingly beautiful and delicious lemon merengue pie. We enjoyed it and, Tuesday, the day of my doctor's appointment, we decided to split the remaining half between us, as dessert after lunch. (His idea, not mine.)

(CLICK IMAGE FOR A BIGGER PIECE OF PIE.)

When I started to feel a bit "off" later that afternoon, I assumed it was a combination of anxiety and pie. (That's what I get for taking my cue from San Geraldo.)

By the time the evening was over, I knew it was a stomach virus (see yesterday's post).

What a waste of lemon merengue pie.


The Merengue with Celia Cruz — What my stomach did Tuesday night...

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Do You Want Me To Hold Your Head?

As I suspected, I do have a hernia. I'll have surgery probably toward the end of April. (The doctor initially scheduled it for April 9, but that would have impacted my social calendar!)

Today's photos have nothing to do with today's story. Once you've read, you'll understand why and will be grateful. (Still, click any image to enlarge the adorable.)

MOOSE DISCOVERS A CANVAS TOTE BAG.
(NOTE THE FLASH OF WHITE INSIDE THE BAG... DUDO GOT THERE FIRST.)

My stomach was upset Tuesday afternoon and, as I sat at the medical center waiting for my appointment, I proceeded to feel worse. At first I thought it was nerves, but by the time we headed home I felt weak, feverish, and had chills. I got out of the taxi and headed quickly into our building.

In the elevator, San Geraldo asked, "Do you feel like you're going to throw up?"

"No," I responded, "I just feel like I can't stand much longer."

A minute later, as I slipped the key in the lock, I said, "I think maybe I am going to..."

DUDO:  "HE'S SO ANNOYING!"

Fortunately I made it to the bathroom.

And that's as much detail as you'll get about my stomach virus. Except I will tell you that as I knelt and worshipped at the porcelain god, San Geraldo called from the den, "Do you want me to hold your head?"

Some people might find that endearing. (Well, I suppose I do, too.) But if I hadn't been choking at the time, I would have laughed. San Geraldo gets the dry heaves at the mention of the word "vomit." A great help he would have been.

AND MOOSE ENDS UP THE WINNER... FOR ONCE.

Later that night, San Geraldo did get the dry heaves. At first we thought he had also contracted the stomach bug, but as we look back now we're pretty certain his was an empathetic illness — dry heaves carried to an extreme.


Reciprocation
In the middle of the night, San Geraldo called out (as he is wont to do when he's not feeling well), "Miiiii-tchulllllllll."

I staggered to the bathroom to find him, as expected, kneeling on the floor and tipping sideways. I threw a towel under his head and said, "I'll get you a pillow."

I returned and realised I myself was close to passing out.

I thought, 'Maybe I should help him up.'

Then I thought, 'I have a hernia!'

"Here's a pillow. I can't help you," I blurted as I grabbed the doorframe for support before staggering back to bed.


A recent typical evening at Meson Salvador.
(Because I didn't take video Tuesday night ... John Gray of the blog, "Going Gently," probably would have — click here.)
video