Let's Hope Christmas Is Not One Huge Turkey

We'll be spending a traditional Spanish Christmas Eve at the home of friends. Christmas Day will be spent at our home with other friends. You'll be able to read all about it in just a few days. In the meantime, I thought it might be time to decorate for Christmas. With no tree (damn cats) on which to hang all our ornaments, we got creative and strung them across all the mirrors in the living room and dining room. It looks... interesting. I'll share that later in the week, too.

THE CHURCH OF NUESTRA SEÑORA DEL CARMEN
NEIGHBORHOOD: LOS BOLICHES.  CITY: FUENGIROLA.  PROVINCE: MÁLAGA.

Oh, the title of this post? San Geraldo headed to the butcher shop the other day and was elated because he was able to converse with the butcher entirely in Spanish. In addition, when he asked if it was still possible to order a turkey for Christmas, the butcher said "yes" (well, actually, he said "sí").  So, San Geraldo ordered a turkey. An 8-kilo turkey. (That's close to 18 pounds.)

When I gasped, he said, "We'll have plenty of leftovers for everyone!" (But that's not what I was worried about.)

We went to buy a roasting pan. When I found one that I thought would be big enough for an 8-kilo turkey, San Geraldo said, "Oh, I don't think that will fit in the oven." (Spanish ovens are most often much smaller than what we're used to.)

That's when I said, "Uh-huh. And will the turkey???"

San Geraldo said, "I hope so."

So, yes, there will also be turkey pictures (and stories).

Today, a glimpse of what Fuengirola looks like just before Christmas. No music. Just hum to yourselves.

WINTER FLOWERS.
(CLICK ANY IMAGE TO GET INTO THE SPIRIT.)

OLIVE TREES AND POINSETTIEAS.

TREES FILLED WITH ORANGES ALL OVER TOWN.

AN "ICE-COVERED" TREE DOWN THE STREET.

MESON SALVADOR. PASTRIES FILLED WITH SHRIMP AND TIED WITH ONION.

A "RAW" WINTERY MORNING ON THE MEDITERREAN SEA.
(IT GOT UP TO A CHILLY 18C/68F.)

CREPE WITH FRENCH CHOCOLATE, COMPLEMENTS OF CAFE EL NOVENTA.

MY FAVORITE SCULPTOR, PAUL BLANE, IS IN THE PROCESS OF
REPLACING THE SIMPSON FAMILY WITH THE HOLY FAMILY.

ONE OF SAN GERALDO'S HIBISCUS ON THE TERRACE.

SAN GERALDO'S LEMON BARS.
(SHORTBREAD, LEMON CUSTARD, RASPBERRY JAM, POWDERED SUGAR.)

ON PLAZA SAN RAFAEL, LOS BOLICHES.

Leave Me Alone I'm Lonely

San Geraldo and I, after all our years together, truly appreciate and respect one another's need for time to ourselves.

Like us, our cats Moose and Dudo thrive on affection and interaction. Like us, they need solitary time.

Unlike us, the cats have no respect or appreciation for each other's (or our) needs.

If Dudo sleeps when Moose wants to play, Moose wanders the house yowling until Dudo gets up. If Moose sleeps when Dudo wants to play, Dudo simply pounces on him.

When either Moose or Dudo wants us, we usually obey. Sometimes it's a cuddle. Or a lap to sit on. Moose doesn't like to nap alone in the afternoon and stalks San Geraldo until he complies. Moose also doesn't like to eat without company (or perhaps it's a guard on duty). One of us usually follows him into the kitchen when he commands (he can be very insistent).

I've been a bit "off" these last few days. Lost in my own head. Wanting to socialize but not wanting to socialize. Oddly, I've been lonely at the same time. I thought some undemanding cat companionship would be nice. No conversation needed.

This is what I got.

MOOSE.

DUDO.

I'm glad San Geraldo understands.

It's obvious Pink hired Dudo and Moose to write the lyrics for this song.
(Warning to My Mother The Dowager Duchess: Pink uses the F word a couple of times.)

Which Is Why I Can't Sleep

I'm not known for being the best sleeper. Every so often, I have a really good night's sleep. But, mostly, I sleep for an hour or so, wake up for a few minutes (or more), and then doze again. I don't turn on a light because, if I do, I could be awake for the rest of the night. (I even walk to the bathroom, if the need arises, with my eyes closed.)

Thankfully, sunrise is still kind of late because it takes quite a bit of self-control (and a certain degree of exhaustion) for me to not get out of bed every morning to take pictures. This morning, I snapped 50 shots before putting the camera down and getting a bit more sleep.

THE FIRST PICTURE OF THE DAY FROM THE TERRACE.

CLOSER...

CLOSER...

AND CLOSER STILL.

BACK IN BED... BUT JUST ONE MORE SHOT.

I prefer my reason (this morning) for being unable to sleep.

Glitter And Be Gay

Thursday evening, San Geraldo, Kristina (click here if you don't know about Kristina), and I checked out Málaga's Christmas decorations. San Geraldo found a restaurant recommendation online. We tried it and have now scratched it from our list. Later in the evening, Kristina sniffed out a tea house/dessert place, and that's now at the top of our list. As for the rest, the company and the decorations glittered. (Click any image for a closer look.)

Calle Larios, a grand, pedestrianized central street of the old city.

AFTER THE SKY COMPLETELY DARKENED.

A STREET PERFORMER.
AT LEAST I THINK HE WAS A STREET PERFORMER.

ONE OF SEVERAL CHRISTMAS TREES,
THIS ONE IN PLAZA DE LA CONSTITUCIÓN.

CHANGING COLORS ON PLAZA DE LA CONSTITUCIÓN.

LOOKING DOWN A SIDE STREET.

WALKING DOWN THAT SIDE STREET.

ANOTHER SIDE STREET.

CATHEDRAL TOWER.

THE CATHEDRAL WITH ITS ORANGE TREES DRAPED IN LIGHTS (AND ORANGES).

All that glitter and this is the song that came to my mind: "Glitter And Be Gay"

You've Got To Be In Love To See A Purple Cow

San Geraldo made chicken soup Monday night. It was delicious. It was filled with vegetables. It was nutritious.

It was purple.

At Ana Crespillo's fruit market Monday morning, San Geraldo picked up some unbelievably beautiful carrots. He tasted some as he cut them up for the soup. He said they were unbelievably delicious. They were also purple.

PURPLE CARROTS AT ANA CRESPILLO'S MARKET, LOS BOLICHES.
(CLICK ANY IMAGE TO "PURPLIZE.")

I just learned that until the late 16th century, most carrots were purple, with mutations in yellow and white. At that time, Dutch growers began developing the orange carrots that we now know so well.

Sadly, no Dutch growers were available to tell San Geraldo what purple carrots would do to his soup. The potatoes and other vegetables — and the chicken — took on a sickly lavender hue. The broth was a richer shade of lavender. Surprisingly... or perhaps not surprisingly... it tasted just like chicken soup.

But, it was similar to the color of borscht (made from beets).

I hate borscht, but I liked the soup.

San Geraldo loves borscht, but not purple chicken soup.

COOKED PURPLE CARROT.

Maybe, like Doris Day, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love...




And, speaking of a purple cow...

SAN GERALDO SPOTTED THIS PEELING PAINT FROM HIS WINDOW.
IT LOOKS JUST LIKE A BUFFALO.

THIS IS WHAT I SEE WHEN I LOOK OUT THAT WINDOW.

INSPIRATION FOR THE SONG: POEM BY GELETT BURGESS, 1895.
(ILLUSTRATION BY BURGESS, TOO.)

Sweet Inspiration

I used to consider myself an artist. If I had at hand a pen, pencil, crayon, piece of chalk, or anything that could leave a mark, I would draw. A dusty table was always a joy. To my parents consternation, steamed up windows (in the car, in the kitchen) were a perfect medium. At those times, I drew for myself. I was never as relaxed as when I was doodling my stream-of-consciousness creations.

The first time I visited Florence, Italy, I was 19. I was tempted to stay, parking myself on the Ponte Vecchio with other hippy-type artists. But, as you know, I like to eat. And I don't like to share a bathroom. And, even with the best diet I looked under-nourished, so starving young artist would have been extreme.

I worked as an illustrator at a few points in my early career. I could produce on-demand and per specifications. But I never enjoyed it.

My career evolved into graphic design and production, writing and editing, publications management, and a few other creative and non-creative businesses along the way. Since I haven't been creating every hour of every day (or even one day of every month) for years, I feel like I've lost my mojo. I would try to simply doodle but found myself trying too hard.

A DOODLE FROM WAY BACK.

CARRARA, ITALY.  ALONE IN MY ROOM.

ON A TRAIN TO FLORENCE, ITALY.
MY FRIEND JOSEPHINE HAS THIS HANGING IN HER HOME IN SICILY.
(YOU CAN SEE HER REFLECTED IN THE GLASS AS SHE SNAPPED THE PHOTO.)

SITTING AT HOME IN BOSTON WITH NOTHING TO DO.

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS.
PASSING SOME TIME WHILE WAITING FOR A FRIEND.

SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO, KILLING TIME BY THE POOL.
SAN GERALDO'S BUTT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD SUBJECT.

Then along came Javier (click here). I was honored to be asked to contribute something to his personal collection of artists' works. After lots of brainstorms, I decided to simply doodle. I completed my page this morning and I was, throughout the process, elated doing it. As has been common practice for most of Javier's contributors, I worked on my own paper and then pasted it onto my assigned page in the sketch book. I applied an excellent paper glue — invisible, smooth... and permanent.

THE LATEST DOODLE.  IT'S A START.

Then I regretted it.

And that's the story of my life. Maybe in another 10 (or 40) years I'll look at my doodle and enjoy it. For now, at least I have something to give to Javier and I'm inspired to get back to creating on a daily basis.

Temptation, I Can't Resist

I''ve been trying to get up to speed on my new photo-editing software. My old (very old) version of Adobe Photoshop isn't compatible with my new (very new) operating system. I'd rather not spend the money on the new Photoshop. So, I downloaded GIMP. I don't like the name (which originally stood for General Image Manipulation Program), but it appears to be able to do just about everything Photoshop can. The tools just aren't in the same places.

Also, I've been working joyfully on my drawing for Javier's artists' diary (click here), which means I've been completely absorbed and don't even want to take a break for meals. I'll be sharing my finished piece with you this week.

Speaking of food, I've eaten my way through a goodly amount of the sweets the Dowager Duchess sent me home with. Unfortunately, more were added to the assortment. Our sometimes-neighbor Jean asked me if I had ever liked any English chocolates. I told her my family used to always bring back a tin of Macintosh (now Nestlē) Quality Street chocolates. I'm not too bright. Jean and Ray returned that evening with a container of those. (All gone now.)

That same day, San Geraldo returned from the supermarket with a gift for me because I seemed a bit down — barquillos al chocolate (chocolate-filled wafers). (All gone now.)

And then there's a  store that just opened down the street for the Christmas season. It's filled with all traditional Andalusian treats and I felt obligated to try at least a few. (And, yes, all gone now.)

As if all the above were not enough temptation, Ana and David at our local fruit market have a supply of holiday goodies. Chocolate-covered nuts of just about every type, wine gums, and more. It took all my self-control to come home from there empty handed.

IN EASY REACH AT MY NEW COMPUTER (AND NOW GONE).

ALL THAT REMAINS...

I HAD ABSOLUTELY NO CHOICE.
RAINY WEATHER FORCED ME INSIDE.

STILL AT THE FRUIT MARKET.
(I'M JUST WAITING TO CLEAR SOME SPACE AT HOME.)

WOULD YOU SAY NO TO DAVID?

And that should explain why my blogging attendance has been so sporadic lately. Just too much temptation.

The Ladies' Room And The Handlebar Moustache

I've been out of commission for several days. San Geraldo and I have very old laptop computers. We've each used ours for years as desktop computers by plugging in a large monitor, and external mouse and keyboard. But they're old and tired and, even if they weren't tired, they can't keep up with the memory hogging applications and peripherals we now use. They freeze and jiggle and lock-up. The fan on mine runs constantly and the laptop will still overheat if I don't turn on an external fan stand.

So, The Dowager Duchess bought us new desktop computers!!! She's amazing, I know. We are so lucky to have her and her generosity is the least of the reasons.

We are now the proud owners of brand-new, super-duper, iMacs... with all the bells and whistles. Thank you, again, Dowager Duchess.

We have spent the last several days "migrating" what we can from our MacBooks to our new iMacs. It's never as easy as it's cracked up to be. San Geraldo's migration went a little more smoothly than did mine. The people on Apple Support have been great. I spent about six hours chatting with them!

But I've at least got a wonderful, powerful, sleek and beautiful new computer. Oh how I love the bells and whistles. Now I just have to get up to speed on some new software, and figure out where everything is on my Spanish keyboard.

Last night we had dinner with Tynan and Elena — a belated birthday dinner for The Goddess. We went to El Rio, which has become another one of our regular haunts. I glanced across the long space and noticed the signs on the restroom doors.

"Oh my, God," I said. "I used the women's room last time I was here."

"What?!?" Elena laughed. "You did not!"

"Yeah, I used the one on the left. The one on the right has a picture of a guy with a handlebar mustache. Obviously, the men's room."

"Handlebar mustache? What are you talking about? That's a girl with pigtails!"

We went for a closer look. I won't tell you who was right. But when I pulled out my camera, our waiter Francisco, laughed and told me, "That happens all the time."

THE UNIVERSAL SYMBOLS ATOP THE DOORS ARE A DEAD GIVE-AWAY.

I REALIZE IT'S MORE OF A SHAVING BRUSH MUSTACHE THAN A HANDLEBAR...

The video is a stretch but, well, it's "bathroom session."