The Great State of Santacoda?

Last night, we had a tapas dinner in La Alameda neighborhood with our warm, charming, funny, and fascinating Sevillana friend, Margarita.  Margarita teaches English and Spanish, but our rapid-fire American English at times leaves her a bit confused.  In January, while trying to fill a lifetime of information into a few brief meetings, we told her about Jerry's childhood in South Dakota.  As part of Margarita's studies, she learned about all the states of the USA and all their capitals.  (She's probably more informed than I am.)  But, because we were speaking so quickly, she didn't clearly catch the words "South Dakota."  So, she admitted last night, immediately after we left in February she began to do research on the place she thought Jerry was from.  She said she became more and more frustrated because she could find absolutely no reference to this placed called "Santacoda."  After a couple of days, the light bulb went on, "Hmm," she thought, "that sounds an awful lot like South Dakota."
 

THE JUST-COMPLETED PLAZA DE ENCARNACION, HOME TO THE PUBLIC MARKET.

What a warm welcome we have felt in this exceptional city.  We are so glad to be back here and to have decided that this will be our home in Spain.  The counter-person at our favorite breakfast place, Nostalgia, (remember "dos especiales, por favor"?) recognized us and welcomed us back with a huge smile and warm greeting.  Thursday night, we had dinner at our favorite restaurant, San Marco, the place we visited every Sunday when we were here in January/February, and one of the servers remembered us and even offered to treat us to after-dinner drinks.

HISTORICAL PURISTS ARE NOT THRILLED WITH THE DESIGN. BUT I FIND IT UPLIFTING.

Our friend Alberto, who had been visiting family far from here for 12 days and only just returned for two days before heading off again, still managed to schedule an appointment for us with a rental agent he knows.  He met us for drinks before introducing us to the agent and he then raced off.  He is so kind.  The agent was great and showed us the one and only apartment she has available and, unbelievably, we fell in love with it.  So, we may even have a home!

CALLE CUNA; POSSIBLY OUR NEW STREET.

I had my own Margarita Moment (Santacoda) yesterday while talking with the agent as we were leaving the apartment, which is part of the top floor of a former private palace.  I told her in Spanish that we were very interested.  Well, I MEANT to tell her in Spanish that we were very interested.  What I in fact said was that we were very interestING.  I realized my mistake and started to laugh and then corrected myself (interasado, not interesante).  She laughed, too, but said she agreed, we WERE very interesting.

WE ASKED MARGARITA TO DO THE ORDERING.  EXCELLENT ENSALADILLA RUSA
AND, A FIRST FOR US, DELICIOUS SALMOREJO — ANDALUSIAN CREAMY, COLD SOUP.

Also, we told Margarita that Thursday evening when we walked by Rodilla, a very good chain cafe, the counter person remembered us and excitedly welcomed us home.  Margarita said, "Ah, Rodilla.  Si."  Jerry thought she was correcting our pronunciation of the name, so he repeated, Arodilla.  I then had to explain... to him and to her.  This is certainly going to be entertaining!

REDUCED FROM €199 TO €169.  MORE THAN THE PRICE OF A COUPLE OF SAILORS.

ANOTHER MAGICAL MOMENT

On our way to La Alameda with Margarita last night, we passed an antique and collectibles store.  It was closed, but the lights were on and, from across the narrow street, I noticed what looked like the Parachute Jump sitting on a small table in the window.  I excitedly crossed the street to get a closer look.  Yes!  It was an actual working replica of the Parachute Jump from the 1939 New York World's Fair.  The Parachute Jump visible from my mother's apartment windows.  The Parachute Jump my mother got to ride with her friend Harriet in the mid-1940s by "picking up a couple of sailors."  So, now I'm trying to keep myself from going back to the store to buy it.

If It's Thursday, It Must Be Sevilla

We have made it to Sevilla.  Three jumbo suitcases, two carry-on bags, two computer bags — and all on wheels, thankfully.  I wish Jerry and I had wheels as well — and someone to push/drag us. 

FLAMENCO WEDNESDAY NIGHT IN MALAGA.
AT AN EXCEPTIONAL RESTAURANT (DESPITE BEING TOURISTY), VINO MIO.

We've been at our hotel about an hour.  It feels great to be back, even if it is 104 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). 

AN OLD OLIVE PROCESSOR ALONG THE WAY TO SEVILLA.

The hunt for a place to live begins tomorrow.  The naps begin NOW!

ACRE UPON ACRE OF SUNFLOWERS.
I THOUGHT OF ASKING THE ENGINEER TO STOP SO I COULD GET A CLEAR SHOT.

If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium... Um, Dublin... Um, Málaga

PLENTY OF TIME FOR A COMPLETE IRISH BREAKFAST AT DUBLIN AIRPORT.
MUCHO TIEMPO PARA UN DESAYUNO IRLANDÉS EN EL AEROPUERTO DE DUBLÍN.

With our recent and continuing wanderings: Irvine, Pierre, Sioux Falls, Minneapolis, Pierre, Sioux Falls, Los Angeles, Irvine, Los Angeles, New York, Dublin... I'm so confused that the only way I know we're in Málaga is because yesterday was Tuesday and I know for certain that we were scheduled to arrive in Málaga Tuesday.  It feels like one of those really cheesy, hectic tours spoofed in the 1969 movie ("If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium").  Well, maybe not cheesy.  But, at times, hectic.  I've got a mix of camera photos and iPhone photos to share some highlights of our trek from New York to Málaga.

Con nuestras recientes y continuas andanzas: Irvine, Pierre, Sioux Falls, Minneapolis, Pierre, Sioux Falls, Los Ángeles, Irvine, Los Ángeles, Nueva York, Dublín ... Estoy tan confundido que la única forma en que sé que estamos en Málaga es porque ayer fue martes y sé con certeza que teníamos previsto llegar a Málaga el martes. Se siente como uno de esos recorridos realmente cursis y agitados falsificados en la película de 1969 (“Si es martes, esto debe ser Bélgica”). Bueno, tal vez no cursi. Pero, a veces, agitado. Tengo una combinación de fotos de cámara y fotos de iPhone para compartir algunos aspectos destacados de nuestra caminata desde Nueva York a Málaga.

VIEW DURING BREAKFAST AT THE BEAUTIFUL NEW TERMINAL 2 AT DUBLIN AIRPORT.
VEA DURANGTE EL DESAYUNO EN LA HERMOSA TERMINAL 2 EN EL AEROPUERTO DE DUBLÍN.

We arrived here in Málaga mid-day Tuesday, flying Aer Lingus via Dublin from New York.  The entire trip was uneventful (mostly) and surreal.  You probably all know by now that Spanish is my second language (DISTANT second language).  But I was so tired by the time we arrived in Málaga that English was beginning to sound like my THIRD language.  I could not successfully complete a sentence.  And conversation with Jerry — which as you also probably already know can be entertaining at the best of times — had begun to sound like an Abbott & Costello routine.

Llegamos aquí a Málaga a medio día del martes, volando Aer Lingus a través de Dublín desde Nueva York. Todo el viaje transcurrió sin incidentes (en su mayoría) y surrealista. Probablemente todos ya sepan que el español es mi segundo idioma (DISTANTE segundo idioma). Pero cuando llegamos a Málaga estaba tan cansado que el inglés comenzaba a sonar como mi TERCER idioma. No pude completar con éxito una oración. Y la conversación con Jerry, que como probablemente ya saben, puede ser entretenida en el mejor de los casos, comenzó a sonar como una rutina de Abbott & Costello.

But, every so often, when the fog of jetlag lifted, we were both elated.  After making our way to our temporary apartment here in Málaga, we settled in and took brief naps.  We woke up feeling refreshed only to feel completely muddled a few minutes later.  

Pero, de vez en cuando, cuando se levantaba la niebla del desfase horario, ambos estábamos eufóricos. Después de llegar a nuestro apartamento temporal aquí en Málaga, nos instalamos y tomamos breves siestas. Nos despertamos sintiéndonos renovados solo para sentirnos completamente confundidos unos minutos más tarde.

ON THE STREETS OF MALAGA TUESDAY NIGHT.
MARQUES DE LARIOS, THE MAIN PEDESTRIAN/SHOPPING THOROUGHFARE.
EN LAS CALLES DE MALAGA MARTES EN LA NOCHE.
MARQUES DE LARIOS, EL PRINCIPAL PEATONAL / COMERCIALIZADORA.

So we took a walk around town, picked up a cheap temporary mobile phone to use until we figure out what plan and contract is best for us, and we enjoyed some of the sights.  Málaga is mobbed with tourists.  Obviously, it's quite different from the way it was when we were here in January.  Feria de Málaga, the annual summer fair, will be here mid-August, and that will really liven things up.

Así que dimos un paseo por la ciudad, recogimos un teléfono móvil temporal barato para usar hasta que descubramos qué plan y contrato es mejor para nosotros, y disfrutamos de algunas de las vistas. Málaga está atestada de turistas. Obviamente, es bastante diferente de como era cuando estuvimos aquí en enero. La Feria de Málaga, la feria anual de verano, estará aquí a mediados de agosto, y eso realmente animará las cosas.

ENSALADILLA RUSA CAN BE GOOD!
ENSALADILLA RUSA PUEDE SER BUENA!

We stumbled upon an obviously popular tapas bar, Azahar, just two streets away from our apartment.  Below the restaurant name, the sign read (in Spanish): "More than tapas."  We figured it was going to be good, because it was only 8:30 p.m. (20:30), which is about two hours early for a stylish dinner, and it was filled with locals.  So, we sat and ordered and had an excellent dinner, including Azahar's version of ensaladilla rusa.  Do you remember our ensaladilla rusa disaster in Sevilla? (If not, click this link.) This time we were smart enough to order a tapas portion.  And this version was delicious and filled with a variety of foods — tasting nothing like the mayo- and cheese-choked blunder we ordered in Sevilla.  We are learning!

Nos topamos con un obviamente popular bar de tapas, Azahar, a solo dos calles de nuestro apartamento. Debajo del nombre del restaurante, el letrero decía: “Más que tapas”. Pensamos que iba a ser bueno, porque solo eran las 20:30, que es aproximadamente dos horas antes para una cena elegante, y estaba llena de lugareños. Entonces, nos sentamos y pedimos y tuvimos una excelente cena, incluyendo la versión de ensaladilla rusa de Azahar. ¿Recuerdas nuestro desastre de ensaladilla rusa en Sevilla? (Si no, haz clic en este enlace). Esta vez fuimos lo suficientemente inteligentes como para pedir una porción de tapas. Y esta versión era deliciosa y estaba llena de una variedad de alimentos, que no sabían nada como la pifia de mayonesa y queso que pedimos en Sevilla. ¡Estamos aprendiendo!

A CLEVER WAY TO PAY FOR THE WEDDING.
THEY HUGGED AND CHANGED THE POSE WHEN MONEY WAS DROPPED IN THE BOX.
UNA MANERA INTELIGENTE DE PAGAR LA BODA.
ABRAZARON Y CAMBIARON LA POSICIÓN CUANDO EL DINERO FUE DEJADO EN LA CAJA.

It's now 2:20 p.m. (14:40) Wednesday.  We rolled out of bed at 11 and finally got to breakfast at 12:35, which meant there weren't many places in the neighborhood to grab breakfast.  They had mostly closed for siesta at 12:30.  But we found one very good little cafe on a shady corner of a beautiful plaza and we had two “French breakfasts” — cafe con leche, croissants and jam, orange juice.  It wasn't necessarily healthy and it wasn't substantial, but it was good.

Ahora son las 14:40, del miércoles. Salimos de la cama a las 11 y finalmente desayunamos a las 12:35, lo que significaba que no había muchos lugares en el vecindario para tomar el desayuno. Habían cerrado principalmente para la siesta a las 12:30. Pero encontramos un pequeño café muy bueno en un rincón sombreado de una hermosa plaza y tuvimos dos “desayunos franceses”: café con leche, cruasanes y mermelada, jugo de naranja. No era necesariamente saludable y no era sustancial, pero era bueno.

THE VIEW WHILE WE ENJOYED TODAY’S FRENCH BREAKFAST.
LA VISTA MIENTRAS DISFRUTAMOS EL DESAYUNO FRANCÉS DE HOY.

We then strolled around town for an hour or so, visiting El Corte Inglés to browse home furnishings and electronics (because we'll need some things pretty soon) and to pick up some necessities.  In a few minutes we'll head out for lunch and then naps before, we hope, dinner with an online friend who is recently here from Texas (and who just happens to have rented an apartment in the building right next to ours).  We plan to take the train to Sevilla Thursday, where we'll settle into a hotel until we find a place to live!

Luego paseamos por la ciudad durante una hora más o menos, visitando El Corte Inglés para buscar muebles y artículos electrónicos para el hogar (porque necesitaremos algunas cosas muy pronto) y para recoger algunas necesidades. En unos minutos saldremos a almorzar y luego tomaremos una siesta antes, esperamos, cenar con un amigo en línea que acaba de llegar de Texas (y que acaba de alquilar un apartamento en el edificio justo al lado del nuestro). ¡Planeamos tomar el tren a Sevilla el jueves, donde nos instalaremos en un hotel hasta que encontremos un lugar para vivir!

WALKING BACK TO OUR APARTMENT AFTER SHOPPING.
CAMINANDO A NUESTRO APARTAMENTO DESPUÉS DE COMPRAS.

  

Random, Roaming, and a Bit of Beefcake

We have one more day here in New York.  Jerry and I are spending a couple of hours at Starbucks getting caught up again with the cyber world.  We then get to have lunch in Park Slope, Brooklyn, with an old friend we haven't seen since we left Connecticut in 1993. We are really looking forward to that.  This evening will be spent having a buen viaje dinner with my mother.  Perhaps we (Jerry... he's a saint) will do a load of laundry in the morning.  Another visit to Starbucks.  And we'll then pack and head to the airport.  The reality has not set in.  I think we'll both be overwhelmed with the excitement once we get on the plane tomorrow.

WAITING FOR THE NUMBER 7 IN THE HOT AND HUMID STATION.

We made a trip to Grand Central Station for lunch with two people very special to us. I had hoped to take a lot more pictures and do a lot more posting during our stay in New York.  There has been so much to shoot and share.  But, time did not allow it.  So, I'll instead just share some random shots taken with my iPhone in recent days.  We spent a few minutes in Grand Central Market and walked away with a bag of chocolate-covered raisin clusters for Jerry and SUGAR-FREE (and still delicious) chocolate-covered cashews for me.  The chocolate Statue of Liberty and Empire State Building looked like fun.

AND TO THINK WE WALKED AWAY WITH ONLY A HALF POUND (.226 KG) OF CHOCOLATE.

We had dinner last night in Rego Park, Queens, with long-time friends who are so kind and always ready to brave NYC traffic just to get together with us.  They chose another amazing restaurant — London Lenny's — which bills itself as the best seafood restaurant in Queens.  I wouldn't argue (although it's the ONLY seafood restaurant in Queens I've ever experienced). 

LONDON LENNY'S BROILED SCROD, SCALLOPS, SHRIMP, AND SOLE.  SUPERB.
(AND SO HEALTHY THAT I COULD ALLOW MYSELF A SLICE OF KEY LIME PIE.)

We returned home from London Lenny's to discover that my mother's co-op was experiencing a blackout.  We turned the corner to discover emergency vehicles, police cars, pedestrians, stores, and five high-rise buildings containing 2,500 apartments all in the dark.  The co-op runs on its own power plant, which at times can be a plus.  It was just about the only neighborhood lit up during the major blackouts in the Northeast.  Fortunately, we only had to wait 20 minutes until power was restored.  But, then came the ride to the top in the elevator with Jerry, who was convinced the power was going to fail again and get us stuck.  We made it!

IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE WE SAW THE LIGHT.

The other night, Jerry, my mother, and I were all too tired/lazy to head back out for dinner, so Jerry offered to just scramble up some eggs and make some toast.  Now, if I were the one offering to scramble eggs and make toast, you might be served — if all went well — scrambled eggs and toast.  Jerry, the master chef (and former caterer of Russian dinners), doesn't know how to keep it that simple.  He scrounged my mother's refrigerator and produced what my mother and I would both call a gourmet scramble — with a side of fried sweet potatoes, and a blueberry/strawberry garnish.  I think he's a keeper.

JUST A LITTLE SOMETHING JERRY THREW TOGETHER.

Before leaving Irvine, Jerry and I shipped off all our old family 35mm slides to have them digitized.  The two disks arrived and we have been having a wonderful time tripping down Memory Lane.  I found an old "beefcake" shot of me poolside in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  I was 15 at the time.  It might be better described as "beefSTICK" since that was more my shape.

BEEFCAKE OR BEEFSTICK.  YOU DECIDE.

Mermaids Before Málaga

Just four more days and we'll be on our way to JFK for our flight to Málaga!  In January, we obtained a lease for a place in Sevilla before deciding to relocate to Málaga.  As a result (and we thought this might be the case), our residency visas were issued for Sevilla and we are required to live there at least until our resident cards are issued (which could take several months).  Jerry and I fell in love with Sevilla, so it's no great hardship to have another change in plans.  So, we have our vacation rental in Málaga for the remainder of July and will find a permanent place in Sevilla (which is only about an hour and a half away on the express train).  We thrive on change!

THE MERMAID (AND MERMAN?) ON THE STATION
AT THE CORNER OF OCEAN PARKWAY AND BRIGHTON BEACH AVENUE.

I hope to post at least a couple more times before we leave New York.  Maybe there will be Malaga Mermaids and Mermen to photograph next week.  Right now, we're sitting in a Starbucks in Fresh Meadows, Queens, after visiting an old cemetery to do some research on dead relatives for Jerry's genealogy website, connectedbloodlines.com.  This afternoon and evening will be spent visiting and being visited by living relatives.

Picking Up a Couple of Sailors

The Parachute Jump still stands as a recognizable icon of Coney Island.  It was moved to its current location in 1941 from its original spot at the 1939 New York World's Fair in Flushing Meadow Park.  The ride became part of Steeplechase Park, which closed in 1964, the year my family moved to Brooklyn from Long Island.  I don't remember the ride running after Steeplechase Park closed and for that reason alone (or simple cowardice), I myself never rode the Parachute Jump.  My mother, however, did.

THE PARACHUTE JUMP THIS BEAUTIFUL, SUNNY MORNING.

The story I remember from my childhood — this is what I remember my mother telling me when I was 10 — was that she rode the Parachute Jump with my father when they were first dating.  She would have been 16 and he 17.  More of the story that I remember my mother telling me was that she went on it to impress my father.  Now, the Parachute Jump was not something I could imagine my mother riding.  In fact, I had never seen my mother go on any ride at an amusement park.  They all made her "too dizzy," she insisted.  So, when she told me the story and I asked her why she didn't go on rides any more.  Her response was, "Well, your father married me."

YESTERDAY FROM MY BEDROOM WINDOW, SHOWING THE WONDER WHEEL AND CYCLONE.
THE PARACHUTE JUMP IS BEHIND THE BUILDING ON THE RIGHT.

A few years ago, while my mother was visiting us in Las Vegas, one of my cousins was also visiting and we were talking about Coney Island.  My cousin was from LA and she had only seen Coney Island once when she flew in for my mother's 80th birthday.  In jest, I began to tell my cousin how my mother had tricked my father into marrying her by going on the Parachute Jump and making him think she was fun.  But, my mother immediately corrected me (she does that quite a bit).

THE CONEY ISLAND BOARDWALK THIS QUIET MORNING AFTER THE HOLIDAY WEEKEND.

"No. No," she said.  "I didn't go on with your father.  He was in the Army.  Harriet and I picked up a couple of sailors."

What?!?

We all burst out laughing.  "YOU picked up a couple of sailors?" I roared.  (If you met my very proper mother, you would know how absurd the idea would be — even the fact that she could say something like that aloud.)

THE PICK-UP "ARTIST" MORE THAN 60 YEARS LATER.

And then the back-pedaling began.  "Well, Harriet did the picking up.  She was much more forward than I.  I would never do anything like that."

I had tears in my eyes. "But you and Harriet picked up a couple of sailors?"

"It wasn't like that.  It wasn't nice for two girls to go on a ride like that by themselves."

"But it was nice to pick up a couple of sailors?"  I was having such a good time.  "What about your husbands?"

MY PARENTS.  YEARS AFTER THE SAILORS.
(MY FATHER WAS NEVER TOLD.)

"Well, of course, we weren't even engaged at the time.  Murray was in the Navy and your father was in the Army."  My mother was actually blushing now and Jerry and my cousin Joan were wiping tears from their eyes.

"So, what did you do AFTER the ride?" I asked.

"They walked us to the subway station and we took the train home.  It was completely innocent."

We recently took my mother to a local diner for lunch.  The diner is called "The Parkview" because it's not far from the Coney Island amusements and you can see some of the rides from its south-facing windows.  I was gleeful when I saw the photos on the cover of the large (diner-sized) menu.  There were old shots of the rides and amusements at Coney Island, including the Parachute Jump.  And at the very bottom of the cover... my mother and Harriet's sailors!

Brooklyn, a Couple of Slugs, and No Mermaids

We are both so tired from our travels and I think the excitement of what we're doing that we arrived at my mother's house (that's what we who grew up in apartments call our apartments) and have become a couple of slugs.  Today, our second day here, we hung around the house in the morning, went out for lunch at a local diner, took hour-long naps, and then deserted my mother to walk the mile to Starbuck's to get online again.  My poor mother must think we're the most boring people around. 

A SHOT THIS EVENING OF THE RESTORED BRIGHTON BEACH AVENUE
SUBWAY STATION (THE EL... SHORT FOR ELEVATED) AT OCEAN PARKWAY.

This is a big holiday weekend (July 4th, Independence Day), and my mother lives within walking distance of the boardwalk and a very busy beach resort.  So, I don't think we'll be doing much for the next couple of days except avoiding the crowds.  (I'll think like a New Yorker here and also mention that I don't want to give up our good parking spot because we may not find another until Monday night.)  It might be fun, though, to take a walk along the boardwalk tomorrow and get shots of the holiday crowds in Coney Island.  Too bad we missed the annual "Mermaid Parade" in late June.  That's a tradition that began in 1981, but I didn't know about it until we stumbled on it during a stroll to Nathan's (for hot dogs) while here for my mother's birthday in 2007.

MERMAIDS ON THE SUBWAY.  SO, I DON'T THINK THEY'RE "REAL" MERMAIDS.
(I FOUND THIS SHOT ON THE WEB FROM THE 2011 MERMAID PARADE.)

Little Russia by the Sea

RUSSIAN, THE MOST COMMON LANGUAGE ON THE NOW-THRIVING AVENUE UNDER THE EL.

We are sitting at the Starbucks on Brighton Beach Avenue in Brooklyn, New York, catching up on email and other things cyber.  This is about a mile from my mother's apartment (which is sadly not wired), so Jerry and I strolled over here a short time ago after Jerry had quite a lie-in this morning.  We arrived yesterday at Kennedy Airport from Los Angeles at 10:00 pm (that's 22:00 in Euro-time... for our dear cousin in Norway who always gets "a.m." and "p.m." confused; military time makes a lot more sense anyway).

"HOUSE OF BOOKS, ST. PETERSBURG" ON BRIGHTON BEACH AVENUE.

I plan to share lots of pictures while we're here.  I don't think there's any place quite like it.  I can't wait to have my first — and possibly last — hot dog and French fries from the original Nathan's in Coney Island (the adjacent neighborhood on the beach).  But, right now we have to finish our coffees and get back home to my mother before I feel really guilty!

Visas and Veggies

ONE MAJOR STEP CLOSER TO SPAIN

We hopped in our rental car this morning and drove over to the Spanish Consulate in Los Angeles.  We have passports imprinted with residency visas for Spain!  It was sadly anti-climactic.  We had, afterall, worked several months to get everything in order just to submit our applications.  We then waited two months to be notified that we were approved, and then nearly another month before we got back to LA to pick up the documents.  The woman at the consulate who gave us our visas this morning (the same one who accepted our applications in April) was once again professional, warm, and charming.  So, no complaints.  It just seemed that, after the build-up we've given this, there should have been a parade or at least applause, hand-shakes, and Spanish-flag stickers for our lapels.  I guess a picture of Jerry standing outside the door to the consulate and holding his visa-imprinted passport will have to suffice.  Oh, yeah, and the fact that we can now go live in Spain.  Less than two weeks to go!

LINDY, REPRESENTING, AT CAPITAL CITY FARMERS MARKET.
STILL EARLY IN THE GROWING SEASON.

KEEPING THEM DOWN ON THE FARM

Before we left Pierre, South Dakota, on Sunday we had the pleasure of spending quality time with Linda and Tom, as well as with our nephew Matt and his wife Lindy.  We can never spend enough time with our loving, kind, funny, enlightened, generous, and admirable family in Pierre.

SOMETHING EDIBLE (I THINK IT'S ITALIAN PARSLEY) IN FOREGROUND.
GREENHOUSE FILLED WITH SEEDLINGS IN BACKGROUND.

In recent years, Matt and Lindy, among their many interests and talents, began an organic farm business (B&G Produce) with Lindy's parents on the family farm outside Pierre.

MATT (THE HAT, BACKGROUND CENTER) PICKING SOMETHING FOR US TO TASTE.

Matt and Lindy then co-founded Capital City Farmers' Market, which they operate downtown Saturday mornings along with a variety of vendors.  B&G Produce not only offers the expected farm-fresh, organically grown staples like radishes, spinach, and potatoes, but they include in their repertoire beautiful fresh flowers as well as unusual specialty produce that isn't traditionally grown in South Dakota.

I THINK I'VE GOT THE THYME.

Eating Stinging Nettles

Matt is a trained and very talented chef (he feeds us well whenever we visit) and he provides recipes and cooking guidelines for whatever he and Lindy sell, which is especially helpful when you buy a bunch of stinging nettles and wonder how to prepare them.  Apparently, they stop stinging shortly after they're picked and can be cooked up to be similar to spinach.  (This reminds me of our great-nephew, Bennett, who sat with us at dinner one night digging into a salad his father — Matt's brother, Ryan — had prepared.  It was one of those gourmet lettuce mixes.  Bennett shoveled some greens into his mouth and then quickly spit them onto his plate as he howled, "I'm eating thistle!")

MATT.  SHOWING US AROUND.

Jerry, Linda, and I drove out to the farm last Thursday afternoon to see all that B&G has going on.  We couldn't have found it without Linda — even if her directions were a bit creative.  We drove out of town and then were to turn past the water tower at some point (if we went over the ridge we would have gone too far) before turning right on a dirt road (just past a sign for something) and then right on another dirt road and then left down yet another dirt road at the end of which we would find the farm.  And we did it all on the first try.  The day was glorious and we passed wild pheasant, pronghorns, and deer along the way.

"GREEN MANURE."
LOCAL PRAIRIE GRASSES AND MORE, GROWING SIMPLY TO ENRICH THE SOIL.

All In The Family

Seeing Matt so blissful on the farm warmed our hearts and is especially meaningful for Jerry.  There were many farmers in Jerry's (and Matt's) ancestry.  Jerry's father and grandfather began farming again outside Sioux Falls for a short time after Jerry's grandfather retired.  When he was a boy, Jerry spent summer breaks at the farm of one of his great-uncles outside of town.  And Jerry's fantasy (well, one of Jerry's many fantasies) was to have a "gentleman's farm" — no relying on it to make a living for Jerry, just a place to grow good tomatoes and sweet corn and to enjoy some chickens, pigs, black swans, and the like.

NEPHEW AND UNCLE SHARING THE BLISS.

We were overwhelmed by the size of the B&G operation, which includes vegetables, herbs, flowers, and even fruit trees.  We got to breathe in the fragrance of chocolate mint and other herbs the names of which I can't remember because that's too much like cooking for me (remember, I consider it cooking when I open a package of microwave oatmeal).

MATT DISPLAYING SOME FRESHLY PICKED (AND RINSED) POTATOES.

And, if you've never tasted a South Dakota potato freshly picked, you don't know what you're missing.  It was like eating an apple.  (And that may be news to nobody but city boys like me.)

I COULDN'T RESIST (BECAUSE MATT WASHED IT FOR ME).

Returning the Car After Seeing the Art

TURNED IN THE HONDA.  RENTED A FORD.
We timed our move to coincide as closely as possible with the expiration of our 4-year auto lease.  So this morning, another major item came off our ever-dwindling checklist.  We returned our Honda Element to the dealership here in Sioux Falls (we originally leased it while living in Las Vegas).  When I checked the odometer, I saw that we had driven 3,281 miles (5,280 km) since leaving California June 2.

We're back here in Sioux Falls for a few days before we fly to Los Angeles to pick up our visas; we then head across the country to New York to see my mother, brother, and other family and friends; and then we head off to Spain.  We can't believe the big move is now less than two weeks away.  We're anxious to get going, but it's a joy to spend a little more time here in Sioux Falls with our other amazing nephew, niece-in-law, and their three exceptional children (and I speak of them all entirely without bias of any kind).

MURALS ON THE TOWN

On our way from Pierre to Sioux Falls yesterday, we made a little stop in Huron to meet "Lavon," an old friend of ours (via Jerry's mother).  We hadn't seen Lavon in a long time and had a really wonderful lunch.  She's 89 and still bowls (which is how she met Jerry's mother in the 1970s) and golfs.  But she doesn't just bowl and golf; she bowls and golfs well.  She's got awards and trophies covering the shelves and walls of her apartment.  Buffets are standard fare in South Dakota.  So, we met Lavon at her favorite buffet restaurant in Huron; and it was good.  I ate healthy: an omelette and fresh fruit... I enjoyed it.  Jerry and Lavon had hearty food and gooey pastries... they enjoyed theirs even more.

THE COWBOY SITTING BY THE DOOR IS ACTUALLY PART OF THE MURAL.

THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE
I had never been in Huron before.  It's basically east of the middle of nowhere — two hours east of Pierre, which is in the center of South Dakota.  And, man, am I ever going to "get it" from Linda for equating Pierre with the middle of nowhere.  But, while I'm at it, I might as well mention two of my favorite Pierre T-shirts (especially since Linda bought me the first one way back in 1984; and I still have it; and it STILL fits).  1) Pierre, South Dakota, is not the end of the world.  But you can see it from there"; 2) "Welcome to Pierre, South Dakota.  Set your watches back 10 years."  You would truly appreciate T-shirt #1 had you spent Christmas 1983 with us in Sioux Falls (where we were stranded for three days) and Pierre.  The windchill was minus 81 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 63 degrees Celsius)!

BUT BACK TO HURON IN SUMMER
The city of Huron (population approximately 13,000) was surprisingly charming with a wonderful public arts project — outdoor murals gracing the sides of downtown buildings.  The murals are intended to "depict unique aspects of Huron's history."  After spending a life-enriching three hours with Lavon, we were anxious to get back on the road to Sioux Falls.  But, we made a quick circuit of the town so I could snap away at some of the inspired and inspiring public art.

THE PAINTER ON THE LADDER IS LAVON'S FAVORITE.