We arrived home from New York (mostly Brooklyn) Thursday afternoon. New York is not my home and hasn't been for a very long time. But it would be impossible to "fuhgeddaboudit" (forget about it) given our love for The Dowager Duchess, The Kid Brother, and a number of other very special people.
ROUGH IS RIGHT!
As for the pace, the competition for space (parking and personal), the noise, the traffic?
Oy! Fuhgeddaboudit!
THE KID BROTHER AND A NATHAN'S HOT DOG. HE REFUSES TO ENTER THE ANNUAL HOT DOG EATING CONTEST. ALL HE NEEDS TO DO IS EAT 70 TO BREAK THE RECORD.
THE DOWAGER DUCHESS AND AN ENCYCLOPEDIC DINER MENU.
THE DOWAGER DUCHESS'S PURPLE NAILS.
NOTE THE COORDINATING PURPLISH LIPSTICK IN THE PREVIOUS SHOT.
THE BOARDWALK, CONEY ISLAND. WHO KNEW CHAMPION BRAND
UNDERWEAR IS A BATHING SUIT WHEN WORN INSIDE OUT?!?
I'M REALLY TRYING TO "FUHGEDDABOUDDAT"!
Lots more photos (no more underwear) — and stories — to come.
The flights were great (to Paris and then New York); the Dowager Duchess is still amazing; the Kid Brother is still one of a kind; and I´ll share lots more some other time.
What I have to share today is much too big [to me] and important [to me] to delay. First is a story that actually matters. A very special day with some very special relations. Following that will be a story that shows how truly shallow I am.
My wonderful cousin Evie drove in from her home in New Jersey today. She, The Dowager Duchess, and I then went to visit my Aunt Sylvie. Evie´s mother, Lilly, was the eldest of seven. Sylvie (who will be 94 in December) was third in line after the only brother. My mother was number 5 (nine years younger than Lilly and nine years older than the youngest sister).
Aunt Sylvie has been living with dementia for many years and now doesn´t know anyone or anything except her heaven-sent care-giver Leah who has made it possible for her to remain in her own home all this time. We´ve all had our experiences with people with dementia and Alzheimer´s. It´s heartbreaking and sometimes surprising. Today was both.
Sylvie used to visit us every year when we lived in California — first in San Diego, and then San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara. She and my uncle Harry had had a very difficult life. They had two severely developmentally disabled sons who required all their attention. Thankfully, both sons now live in group homes and are well taken care of.
AUNT SYLVIE AND UNCLE HARRY´S WEDDING, 1946.
HARRY´S PARENTS (LEFT), MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS (RIGHT).
Sylvie had never been on a plane until she began to visit us after my uncle died in the mid-´90s. Dale, Chucky, and I were always very close with Sylvie and Harry. And Jerry and I treated Sylvie like another mother. When we arrived at her apartment today, she was extremely unfocused. We each gave her a kiss and told her who we were. It didn´t register. When I knelt beside her I reminded her, as I always do, that I was Chucky and Dale´s brother. She squeezed my hand and said, "When are you going on a plane? I want to come, too."
Flirting
Whenever we visit Brooklyn, we make a point of having at least one lunch at Parkview Diner. It´s not far by car from The Dowager Duchess´s apartment. So, after visiting Aunt Sylvie, we three drove to the restaurant where San Geraldo met us for lunch.
PARKVIEW DINER, CROPSEY AVENUE, BROOKLYN.
Our waitress was someone we had never met. She was warm, charming, professional, and adorable (early 20s adorable). She and I really connected and she kept commenting on how much she liked me. She finally asked me my name. I introduced myself and then introduced everyone else. ¨This is my mother, Mimi; my cousin, Evie; and my husband, Jerry."
MY THREE-EGG OMELETTE, BACON, MUSHROOMS, AND CHEDDAR; WITH HOME FRIES.
MY NEW GIRLFRIEND, DEE. SHE HATED ¨THAT CHEESY GRIN.¨ (SHE MADE ME PROMISE HER BOYFRIEND WOULD NEVER SEE THIS.)
Dee blushed scarlet and said to Jerry, "Oh, my god! I´ve been coming on to your husband!" She rushed away to compose herself before coming back to apologise. I told her she had made my entire year (but, honestly, I think I´m now covered for life). The Dowager Duchess commented, "Well, she wasn´t really flirting."
As for me? I believe.
"Then I know why I believe." (OK, but I really don´t believe)...
It's been busy here. I'm still talking about Wednesday in Málaga and haven't even gotten to tell you about a wonderful Thursday in Fuengirola with Natalie (of Knatolee's World, click here to fall in love) and her husband Gordon.
Tomorrow San Geraldo and I head to New York to visit My Mother The Dowager Duchess and, also, The Kid Brother. I'll try and get caught up while there.
Meanwhile, I walked the streets of Málaga for hours and I didn't make one single centimo. (Click the pictures; they get really big.)
CERVANTES THEATRE.
17TH-CENTURY BASILICA OF SANTA MARIA DE LA VICTORIA...
... AND PLAZA ALFONSO XII IN FRONT.
WALKING ALONG CALLE VICTORIA...
... LOOK WHO WAS INSIDE!
ENTRANCE TO THE 11TH-CENTURY ALCAZABA,
(PALATIAL FORTRESS OF MÁLAGA).
I wonder if I should change the name of my blog to "Mitchell is NOT Moving." We haven't moved house for three whole years. And now that home improvements are nearly done, we're not planning to move for a very long time. We actually discussed that before we went ahead with the renovations.
But, as part of a very busy week, I spent several hours in Málaga Wednesday. I took the train in to escort (by taxi) a friend home from the hospital. Nothing serious. She said it was something to do with a vein in her leg. I'm sure she really had a boob job (no, I'm not). But she goes topless at the beach, so I'll know for sure this summer. (She had them wrap one leg in bandages and she limped just to throw me off the scent.)
ANYWAY... On my nearly 30-minute walk from the train station to the hospital, I passed through a part of Málaga I had never seen before. It's coming back to life from the "crisis" a bit more slowly than the touristy parts of town (but it's coming back).
Early in the walk, I saw an old derelict house just perfect for the loving hands of these two old derelicts (San Geraldo and yours truly). Closer to the hospital, I passed another fixer-upper I liked even more. But, I took a stroll around the neighborhood again while I waited and found the ideal fixer-upper. It's a good thing we agreed to stay put.
(Click any image to see how much there is to be done.)
FIXER-UPPER NUMBER 1.
FIXER-UPPER NUMBER 2.
THE GARDEN GATE AT FIXER-UPPER NUMBER 2.
FIXER-UPPER NUMBER 3.
Ain't got time to fix the shingles. Ain't got time to fix the floor.
Granted, Miguel de Cervantes was a genius. Although "Don Quixote" is not the easiest read, especially in the original Spanish, it is brilliant. However, when I talk about genius today, I'm talking about the genius of Meson de Cervantes, the restaurant in Málaga.
After four months, we finally managed to get back to Meson De Cervantes for another meal (click here for last time). Long-time friends Steve and Hector are in Málaga for one of their regular visits and we had the pleasure of their company. I'll take it from the rear with the photos and begin with our departure.
(Click the images to make your mouth water... well, except perhaps for the photos of me.)
OUT FRONT WITH STEVE. (SAN GERALDO IS STANDING UP ONE STEP... AS HE IS IN LIFE.)
DESSERT: THE BEST PANNA COTTA I'VE EVER HAD.
MY CROQUETAS CASERAS.
(CHICKEN CROQUETTES.)
SAN GERALDO'S GAMBAS REBOZADAS CON MIEL DE CAÑA.
(BATTERED PRAWNS WITH TREACLE.)
MY FILETE DE DORADA ENVUELTO EN BERENJENAS,
PURÉ DE ZANAHORIAS CONFITADAS Y CREMA DE ENEBRO.
(SEA BREAM WRAPPED IN AUBERGINE, CARROT PUREE, AND JUNIPER SAUCE.)
SAN GERALDO'S SALMON A LA MANTEQUILLA DE HIERBAS,
CON ARROZ NEGRO Y PURÉ DE GARBANZOS.
(SALMON WITH HERB BUTTER, BLACK RICE, AND CHICKPEA PUREE.)
HECTOR'S PULPO. (IT WAS ONE OF THE SPECIALS.)
THE BOMB* (AND PHOTO-BOMBED)!!!
*"The Bomb" is '90s slang for something that's "just totally awesome, dude."
I'm delaying sharing before and after photos of our apartment because we're heading to New York in about a week and we've decided to wait until we return to put the new slip covers on the furniture (no need to leave the cats, specifically Dudo, a brand new clawing playground with no supervision). Ditto the new bedding. We also haven't gotten the terrace back in order and I want to show it at its best.
So, here are some shots of how Dudo and Moose coped with the construction. Dudo tended to be much better at finding secure spots that wouldn't be disturbed — well, usually.
DUDO UNDERSTANDS THE VERB "TO HIDE" (ESCONDERSE). YOU CAN JUST SEE HIS EARTIPS STICKING UP FROM THE CAT BED IN REAR.
DUDO (ALONE) IN THE SHOWER SHELTER I CREATED FOR THEM BOTH.
Although I've seen horseradish from the garden, I've never seen a truly healthy specimen. So this may come as no surprise to you but it was a (huge) surprise to me when I saw it at Ana's produce market this morning. (Click the photos and see them grow.)
RÁBANO PICANTE (BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED).
Our friends/neighbors Jean and Ray have houseguests for several days. We've gotten to know Jean and Ray's son John and his wife Nicola, and now Nicola's parents are visiting. Also charming and very easy to like. Especially since they arrived with chocolates from John and Nicola. The chocolates are from Hotel Chocolat, the only company in the UK to grow cocoa on its own plantation. They even have a hotel/spa set among the cocoa groves on the Caribbean island of Saint Lucia. Talk about a chocoholic's wet dream.
THE BOX.
THE MENU.
That's all I have for you today. I hope you find it satisfying.
San Geraldo and I have been cleaning up and organizing our like-new offices.
Really, mostly I've cleaned and organized mine (and the rest of the house), while San Geraldo moves his mess from one place to another. (It's a good thing he's cute.)
OUR ALTER EGOS? DUDO READS BOOKCASE ASSEMBLY INSTRUCTIONS.
MOOSE TAKES ANOTHER BREAK.
A QUICK "AFTER" PIC WHILE I SEARCH FOR THE "BEFORES." (OUR OLD GRANDFATHER CLOCK PEAKING IN AT LEFT, MY OFFICE IN DISTANCE.)
Tynan — husband of the Goddess Elena — and I love talking about old TV, old advertising, and old music. Well, we love talking.
Johny Otis's song from 1958, "Hand Jive," came up the other night. San Geraldo wasn't familiar with it (sometimes I wonder if he spent his South Dakota childhood under a rock).
As Tynan and I sang some of the lyrics, San Geraldo looked shocked.
"Hand job!?! There was a song called 'Hand Job'?!?"
The major renovations are done. So master contractor Santi has packed up and moved on to his next project, while we're busy doing laundry, cleaning, vacuuming and wiping up sawdust, rearranging furniture, putting things away... doing laundry, cleaning, vacuuming and wiping up sawdust... oh, and doing laundry, cleaning, and vacuuming and wiping up sawdust.
WITH DALE, 1967.
We went shopping today, hauling home two huge bags of shelving organizers, bed linens, and some other crap. Two new bookcases and my new desk chair will be delivered tomorrow. Every joint in my body aches. My arms and legs are covered with cuts and scratches. I burst a blood vessel in the palm of my hand. I know I've overdone it, but I'm the type who wants to have everything in order immediately. (San Geraldo is not.)
At least I haven't been stabbed by an African Spear — today.
We have our house back. We're out of the pit that was called a holiday apartment. We've spent the last two days cleaning, hauling, arranging, and rearranging.
I'd like everything to be completely in place.
Now.
It's not. But it's already presentable and we love it. There will be pictures (before and after).
Meanwhile, I've got bruises and scratches from all this manual labor. I bruise and scratch easily (being the son of the Dowager Duchess on whom the story, "The Princess and the Pea," was based). Also, when I get into work mode, I'm a bit of a whirling dervish.
Our Sansevieria Cylindrica, purchased in December 2013 (click here), also known as Cylindrical Snake Plant or African Spear, has grown tremendously. In December 2015, I moved it from the dresser in the bedroom to a plant stand in the living room. During the final days of renovations, I moved the plant back to the dresser to keep it out of the way.
I was stabbed three times today (twice while trying to get a pair of socks from a dresser drawer). Those "spears" are aptly named. The plant is back in the living room.
Did I mention I rolled out of bed — and onto the floor — last week? My ankle, hand, and hip have healed nicely, thank you.
