|MY CAFÉ CON LECHE.|
When Jerry got back from Mercadona, he unpacked the groceries and we went to Dos de Mayo for lunch, which was delicious — beautiful battered and fried (OK, not the healthiest choice) langostinos and a beans and fish tapa that I ordered because Jerry thought it looked good. (I knew I would hate it, but I wanted him to be happy.) Well, it was delicious and I was happier than he was.
We then came back upstairs and Jerry sat down to see if he could figure out our connectivity problems before having to call Vodafone again. I headed back out to run a few errands. I returned home less than an hour later and Jerry opened the door before I could turn my key in the lock. He was beaming.
|CREPE MYRTLE ACROSS THE PLAZA. ALICE IS HERE!|
"It's working! Sit down at your computer and see." The router currently sits in the alcove between the foyer and the living room. My bedroom is almost as far away as you can get in the apartment and there are several thick concrete walls between. We walked down the long hall. I sat down at my desk. I clicked on Firefox. And, in a heartbeat, I was connected. I clicked on my desktop email and all my new messages appeared. Jerry had figured it out without even phoning Vodafone a second time. I already knew he was a genius. I already knew I loved him. But, well, he is and I do.
|OUR COAT RACK— PURCHASED IN WASHINGTON, D.C. IN 1984 — WAS MADE FOR THIS SPACE.|
ONCE AGAIN, A PLACE TO HANG OUR HATS. (NOW WE HAVE TO BUY HATS.)