The Inmates Are Running The Asylum

One day, our niece-in-law Emily emailed her daughter Alice's teacher to let her know that Alice's grandparents, Linda (San Geraldo's sister) and Tom, would be picking her up from kindergarten the next afternoon.

Unnoticed by Emily as she typed, auto-correct changed "in-laws" to "inmates." (Or at least that's how Emily explained it to the teacher... and to Linda and Tom.)

Alice's teacher believed Emily and didn't call Social Services.

Linda was a second-grade teacher for more than 30 years. She loved her work and was exceptional at it. In addition to their granddaughter Alice (5), Linda and Tom have two other grandchildren, Eloise (8) and Bennett (11). They are the best grandparents, but Linda especially has the admiration of Tom and the rest of us. With her three grandchildren, she has unending love, patience, energy, and authority. If Grandma tells them once, they do it. (Alice is still training Grandpa.)

LINDA, OF COURSE.

Linda and Tom drive into Sioux Falls quite often to take care of the kids when Ryan and Emily have to travel or need some help.

SISTER LINDA AND SAN GERALDO.

Important Note:
No matter how exceptional Linda is, she is also, as I mentioned earlier, San Geraldo's sister.

The same week as the "inmates" email, Emily told Linda that she was having some window treatments fixed in the house. She asked if Linda could be there once it was scheduled. Linda said of course she could.

The next day, Emily asked Linda if she was available to be at the house that afternoon when the blind man came.

Perplexed, Linda asked, "Why is a blind man coming to the house and what do you want me to do with him?"

FOR YEARS I'VE WONDERED WHY THEY WERE POSED ON THE STOOL.
I FINALLY REALIZED: TO KEEP THEIR EASTER SHOES CLEAN!

As Linda told us, "I guess it runs in the family."

I am always aware that, in addition to the joy of having San Geraldo in my life, I have the added joy of Linda, Tom, and their loving family. Oh, and of course there's their entertainment value.

Barry Manilow has a song called "Linda."

Linda loves Barry Manilow.

But I just couldn't bring myself to do it (even though Barry Manilow touched my shoulder in a restaurant in Palm Springs in 2001, and we had a run-in at Kennedy Airport in 1974.

(Click here for the run-in  — it's a funny story — while you listen to "Jailhouse Rock" instead; Linda and Tom were two of the back-up dancers.)

Lucky, Lucky Me?

I took a long walk on the beach Monday and, as I strolled, I thought I'd pick up perhaps four pieces of sea glass to add to my collection. I was thinking about the standard colours I always find: light green, dark green, brown, and clear (frosted). I haven't come across another piece of yellow sea glass since I dropped one a few minutes after I discovered it (click here).

(Click any image. If you get as excited as I did, you just might [almost, nearly, but not quite] pee yourself.)

Everywhere I looked were beautiful translucent shells in a multitude of colours. These shells are always to be found here, but never have I seen them in this quantity and in such variety. I had already found my four pieces of glass and decided to start another collection.

After carefully pocketing my new treasures, I noticed one more bit of gold shining in the wet sand just beyond the shoreline. I bent down and discovered it was a piece of glass. Yellow glass! I placed it deep in my other pocket and it actually made it home with me. Simple pleasures are definitely the best.

How'd I get so lucky?

Erotic Tapas: Breast Men

BITE-SIZED.

I haven't stuck to my commitment of sampling at least one tapa erótica each day of the final five days of competition (click here). Today is the last day and I've only been to two places. Saturday night, we finally got back to Meson Salvador (with friends Tynan and Elena) for dinner and the tapa special.

The waiter, Ricardo, told us their theme was pechitos (little breasts). They were very tastefully (in every way) done. Bacon wrapped around sausage, topped by seasoned mash potato with a dollop of slightly spicy sauce; and in the centre of another bit of mashed potato, a heart- (or breasts-) shaped wedge of fried mash. It was charming and exceptionally delicious.

And, in case you don't know by now, the preceding paragraph is as close to 'cooking' as I comfortably get.

TAPA EROTICA AT MESON SALVADOR.

After dinner, San Geraldo told Ricardo he was in the mood for dessert and, before he could even order, Ricardo ran off to do something. We had no idea what. He soon returned with two chocolate chip mini-muffins topped with whipped cream.

POSTRE DE PECHITOS (DESSERT OF LITTLE BREASTS).
SAN GERALDO DID NOT SHARE!

Ricardo said he wanted to maintain the "little breast" theme. That's more breasts than San Geraldo has had in his lifetime.


Tetas y culo...

Spotted Dick In Spain

Our favourite English-style restaurant here in Fuengirola is, as you might already know, Sandpiper. Chef/Owner Jason recently added two new desserts. Jessica told me about them.

One of the new desserts is "Treacle Sponge," a traditional British dessert of sponge cake drizzled with treacle (golden syrup) and often served with custard.

Jessica was very unhappy to learn that the other dessert was called "Spotted Dick." I've heard of it before — the dessert, I mean. Well, come to think of it... Oh, never mind. Anyway, the dessert is commonly made with suet, flour and raisins, and served with custard.

Jessica (Spanish) was appalled and told Jason that, until the new menus were printed, she would write the desserts on a piece of paper. She was not going to say "Spotted Dick."

A few days later, there was more to the story. Ana, Jessica's mother and Jason's life and business partner, was told about the new desserts.

"Spotted Dick," she said.

No problem.

But then she tried "Treacle Sponge."

With Ana's Spanish accent, "Treacle Sponge" sounded like "Treacle Spunk." And no matter how many times she tried, it always came out the same.

When Jason stopped laughing, he told her what "spunk" was. Jessica had already told her about "dick." Ana said she would not be selling either until they were printed on the menu.

Friday night, I ordered Spotted Dick to share with San Geraldo.

When Jessica brought the dish to the table, San Geraldo asked (cluelessly), "Does the spotted dick have nuts?"

Jessica stood in stunned silence.

San Geraldo continued (still clueless), "Because I hate nuts."

Jessica walked away before I could tell her that I usually eat San Geraldo's nuts.

SPOTTED DICK, NO NUTS.

TREACLE SPUNK... I MEAN SPUNK... AHEM, SPONGE.

"Me mother says I must be quick to get me bit o' spotted dick."

Soon Within My Tapestry

As Carole King wrote, "My life has been a tapestry..."  And, although, the patterns of my life haven't always been harmonious, they at least continue to be interesting.

(Click the images to experience the symphony of colours and patterns here in Fuengirola on the Costa del Sol this month.) 

Interestingly, I don't see as much of this in summer when the town is mostly Spanish. (I just thought I'd mention that.)

FOREVER PLAID... 

AND SOMETHING ELSE.

Just what is it they're here for and, more importantly, where ought they go?

And, yes, I know this isn't actually an example of tapestry but I don't know any songs [that I like] about patchwork quilts.

Erotic Tapas: I Want Some Seafood, Mama

It's time for Fuengirola's 7th Annual Ruta de la Tapa Erótica (Route of the Erotic Tapa). Some of you may remember last year's event (click here).

One hundred local restaurants are participating, creating their own erotic tapa. You can register and obtain a card to be stamped by each establishment you visit. The tapas are only 2 euros each and include a beverage — beer, wine, water, soft drink. If you've registered, you can then vote for your favourite.

I didn't sample much last year and this year I got a late start. An understatement. The event runs from October 30 to November 15. I finally sampled my first erotic tapa November 11. However, I will try to hit at least one tapas restaurant a day until the "ruta" ends.

My first stop was a nearby restaurant called "La Esquinita" (The Little Corner). It's an exceptional place that San Geraldo and I only recently discovered. A five-minute walk. Truly local. Very popular. Entirely Spanish. And it took us nearly three years to find it! But we're so glad we did. Their tapa erotica was well presented and absolutely delicious — as long as I didn't dwell too long on the symbolism.

INSIDE BAR LA ESQUINITA, LOS BOLICHES.

BREAD, CHIP, AND BOWL ALL CAME TO A POINT.
CHUNKS OF FISH, MUSSELS, ONIONS... IN A RED SAUCE.
AN ENVELOPE SEALED WITH A RED DOT.

THE PRIVATE MESSAGE INSIDE MY ENVELOPE:
"YOU MUST DO THE 69 POSITION."

"When I come home late at night, I get my favorite dish. Fish!"

A Whale Of A Tale Of The Tail Of Dickie Dragon

Our niece Lindy says Dudo looks like Kate Moss. He's nice to look at, loves to pose, and his "head shots" always look like he's sucking in his cheeks giving him that undernourished supermodel look (not that ALL supermodels have that undernourished look, but it IS one of the looks). Also, he seems to always know exactly how to tilt his head for best effect.

(Click any image for a tall tale... tail.)

MOOSE (LEFT) AND DUDO THE SUPERMODEL.

I'm fascinated by cats' tails (and tales of cats, in case you hadn't noticed). Our cat Dobie, in California, was long-haired with a huge (gigantic) fluffy tail. It had no tensile strength and just softly billowed in his wake. His brother Maynard (who was excruciatingly neurotic and of course we loved him), had identical markings but medium hair. His tail was almost prehensile.

When San Geraldo and I had our bed & breakfast hotel in Palm Springs, Maynard would walk out onto the patio, pass under one of the aluminum chairs, hook his tail to the underside as he went, and drag the chair along the patio behind him. Every single day for two years.

And every single day (for two years), the moving chair would scare the crap out of Maynard and he'd run back inside.

DOBIE (AGE 13) AND HIS TAIL (ALSO AGE 13).

Dudo's tail snaps, and curls, and waves. And when he lies idle, his tail seems to always be perfectly positioned to complement his pose. Sometimes, he even holds it in place.

Musy's tail is soft and gentle and often gets in his way. So this is the tail of Dudo.

SORRY. EVEN DUDO HAS HAD ENOUGH.

This song hasn't stopped playing in my head since I began thinking about tail... oops, I mean tails. The Kid Brother had the record a very, very long time ago. And I, of course, would listen to it with him. He would never sing along, but I was expected to. I still know it by heart. It's a whale of a tale...

And the long and the short of it is true...

I Can See All Obstacles In My Way

I've been frustrated in recent weeks with the quality of my photos, from both my Canon compact digital camera and my Sony phone. I had been blaming poor light conditions — too much, too little — but have continued to try. I've been improving the results in Photoshop, sharpening focus, reducing what looked like shake, and improving colour. But I prefer to have better quality to start with.

In addition, I've begun to collect photos of Dudo and how he creatively positions his tail. He was lying on the bed in the den this morning in the heavenly glow coming through the vertical blinds. I snapped a couple of shots. But the heavenly glow made the photo really unclear.

But I thought, "That shouldn't produce such a bad photo." And then it hit me. All my photos had a very "misty" quality. "When was the last time I had cleaned the lens?" I wondered. The answer: Long before the most recent tempesta and vientos ciclónicos (click here).

The camera lenses on both my Canon and my phone had gotten covered in salty sea spray. As Homer Simpson would say, "D'oh!"

And speaking of "d'oh," the other night, I wasn't looking where I was going and I walked into the sharp branches of a low-hanging tree. I got a hard knock on the head and some scratches. I even took a selfie when I got home. The quality of the image seemed blurred to me. Maybe it was the knock on the head.

I'm sometimes slow, but I do eventually get there...

Check out Dudo before and after... (Click to enlarge.)

BEFORE...

AND AFTER.

I can see clearly now...

Masterpieces

In case yesterday's video wasn't enough, here's another shot of singer/songwriter Pablo Alborán.

I forgot to mention, he's from Málaga (a hometown boy). And he's gay. (Not that it matters.)

So, of course there were rumours he and Ricky Martin were dating.

After all, Ricky Martin is gay, too. And they both speak Spanish.

Back To The Beach
(Without Pablo)
The beach is in a sorry state and there was more rain on and off Tuesday, so not much clean up was done. The worst of the debris was plowed up and hauled away. The rest will be gone quickly. The City of Fuengirola does a great job maintaining the beach and paseo. Ivo the sand sculptor has his work cut out for him. His collection of Greek Gods and Goddesses lasted several months, but didn't survive the storm. I suppose that's expected when you build your life on sand. 

(Click the images, including Pablo, to see the masterpieces.)

STILL IN PROGRESS IN JUNE.
(POSEIDON'S CROWN AND NIPPLES DONE BUT
HIS NAME, ΠΟΣΕΙΔΩΝ, NOT YET ADDED.)

TODAY, (ΠΟΣΕΙΔΩΝ'S PECS AND NIPPLES SURVIVED.)

Because it's the theme from The Poseidon Adventure...

La Tormenta Y Los Ciclónicos

Sunday was quite the day here on the serene Mediterranean. We began the day with rough seas, which continued rougher until the sky exploded with thunder, lightning, heavy rain. And ... San Geraldo's cyclonic winds. A storm is "una tormenta," which seems especially appropriate for San Geraldo given how tormented he becomes. But he still calls them los ciclónicos (the cyclonics).  This was almost deserving of the designation. I went out on the terrace to take some pictures, tried to go around the corner for a different view, and was almost blown off my feet. (So no photos from there.)

We moved (San Geraldo did) plants and brought in (San Geraldo did) some furniture. We also picked up (I did. See? I did do something) a couple of big cacti that got blown over. All three yuccas are finally well-secured and positioned (click here for a bit of their stormy history).

We were supposed to take a walk down the paseo with our friends/neighbors Jean and Ray for an always wonderful dinner at Sandpiper. But it was blowing and storming so hard at the time that we instead went downstairs to Cosmopolita, a restaurant right outside our front door. All the street lights went out for a short time as a result of a lightning strike. San Geraldo, whose great-grandmother was killed in 1909 when their house was struck by lightning, was slightly stressed (to put it mildly).

The surf actually came up onto the paseo in places (over the low wall separating the beach from the street) and even flipped heavy wooden trash holders and walkways on the beach. The walkways end far from the surf-line, usually.

(Click the images for a closer look at how things progressed.)

THE ALWAYS-CHIC JEAN MODELING HER WATERPROOF "STOCKINGS."

The name of the song is "Llueve," which means "It Rains." His name is Pablo Alborán (or as our friend Elena calls him "Mi Pablito" — My Little Pablo).
He was next to me on my overnight flight from New York in September. He slept. I respected his obvious desire for privacy and quiet. Elena will never forgive me.