The weatherman / El meteorólogo

La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.

“IT’S OVER 90 DEGREES (32C) today,” I commented to San Geraldo as he prepared lunch Thursday. “Really?” he asked. “Really,” I answered.

“Inside or outside?”

*Crickets* [Note: For those of you, like San Geraldo, who won’t know what I mean by *crickets*, it’s the sound of silence, as in “We heard nothing but crickets.”]

San Geraldo could read the expression on my face and muttered. “Well, don’t laugh at me! Some people have both outdoor and indoor thermometers!”

“Do we?” I asked.

“No, but that’s beside the point. Well, on second thought, maybe that is the point. Still, don’t laugh!”

By the way, it’s currently about 78F (30C). Outside.

These photos are from my walk Tuesday afternoon. I went in a new direction (for me). It wasn’t all picture-postcard perfect.

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“HOY HACE MÁS DE 90 grados (32C)”, le comenté a San Geraldo mientras preparaba el almuerzo del jueves. “¿De verdad?” preguntó. “De verdad,” respondí.

“¿Dentro o fuera?”

* Crickets * [Nota: Para aquellos de vosotros, como San Geraldo, que no sabrá lo que quiero decir con * crickets * [grillos], en la jerga estadounidense es el sonido del silencio, como en, “No escuchamos nada más que grillos”].

San Geraldo pudo leer el expresión en mi rostro y murmuré. “¡Bueno, no te rías de mí! ¡Algunas personas tienen termómetros para exteriores e interiores! ”

“¿Hacemos?” yo pregunté.

“No, pero eso no viene al caso. Bueno, pensándolo bien, tal vez ese sea el punto. Aún así, ¡no te rías!”

Por cierto, ahora es actualmente 78°F (30°C). Afuera.

Estas fotos son de mi caminata el martes por la tarde. Fui en una nueva dirección (para mí). No todo fue perfecto como una postal.

An old fig orchard. I think it’s been abandoned.
Un viejo huerto de higueras. Creo que ha sido abandonado.

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At 1:02, you’ll understand why I chose this song. Or maybe it will just be *crickets*.
A la 1:02 entenderás por qué elegí esta canción. O tal vez solo sean *crickets*.

Grown-up Tastes / Gustos Adultos

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

FOR SOMEONE WHO doesn’t cook, I sure do enjoy looking at all the ingredients. Málaga has a few large public markets and, whenever I can, I visit the one closest to the train station in the old town center. It’s called Mercado Ataranzas, which means “shipyard market,” and that makes perfect sense since it was originally a shipyard built in the 14th century when the Mediterranean Sea reached right to the front wall. That changed in the 18th century when the area was filled in. The sea is now .5 km (.3 miles) away. In 1487, the newly empowered Catholics set up a convent on the site. But apparently they found themselves too distracted from prayers by the noise of the waves, so it was then a fort for weapons storage, a hospital, and then a medical school, until in 1868, one arch from the original seven 14th-century Moorish arches was saved from demolition and the public market was built with modern iron.

I could have loaded up with so much goodness, but having only just begun my wanderings, I limited myself to a couple of fresh empanadas for lunch, walked to a nearby plaza, and sat on a bench in the sunshine. Then I headed off for some more culture.

Don’t forget to click the photos to increase the deliciousness. The video at the end is a commercial jingle from 1979 that has been running through my head for days. I have no idea why (although I did love Peek Freans).

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PARA ALGUIEN QUE que no cocina, me encanta mirar todos los ingredientes. Málaga tiene algunos mercados públicos grandes y, cada vez que puedo, visito el más cercano a la estación de tren en el casco antiguo. Se llama Mercado Ataranzas, y eso tiene mucho sentido ya que originalmente era una ataranza construido en el siglo XIV cuando el Mar Mediterráneo llegó hasta la pared frontal. Eso cambió en el siglo XVIII. El mar está ahora a .5 km (.3 millas) de distancia. En 1487, los católicos recién empoderados establecieron un convento en el sitio. Pero aparentemente se encontraron demasiado distraídos de las oraciones por el ruido de las olas, por lo que era un fuerte para el almacenamiento de armas, un hospital, y luego una escuela de medicina, hasta que en 1868, un arco de los siete arcos moros originales del siglo XIV fue salvado de la demolición y el mercado público fue construido con hierro moderno.

Podría haber cargado con tanta bondad, pero apenas comencé a pasear, me limité a un par de empanadas frescas para almuerzo, caminé hacia una plaza cercana, y me senté en un banco al sol. Luego me dirigí a un poco más de cultura.

No olvides hacer clic en las fotos para aumentar la delicia. El video al final es un tintineo comercial de 1979 que ha estado corriendo por mi cabeza durante días. No tengo idea de por qué (aunque me encantó Peek Freans).

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Las Letras de la Canción:
Peek Freans son una galleta muy seria.
Están hechos para gustos adultos.
Peek Freans son demasiado buenos para desperdiciarlos en los niños.
Oh, son serios, muy serios.
Peek Freans son extraordinariamente serios.
Si eres un adulto o planeas serlo, sabrás a qué nos referimos.
Peek Freans son una galleta muy seria.

NOTA:
En inglés estadiounidense, “galleta” es “cookie.” En ingles britanico, es “biscuit,” Biscuit es algo completamente diferente en los Estados Unidos.

PollO Or A?

I want to build my own holiday village — of sorts. Nothing holy and totally irreverent.

Judy bought some figures for Tynan and Elena’s “Belen.” A few ducks to join Elena’s farm animals and a dead chicken for Tynan. Just because.

Their friend Jim has two Christmas villages at his house. A bit religious and a bit festive. There’s even a man with his bits out peeing wherever he happens to be standing (he gets moved all over town). Although the caganer (click here) is a Christmas tradition, Peeing Man appears to be on his own.

Remember, “pollo” is chicken in Spanish and “polla” is cock. Consider this blog post your Spanish lesson for the day. You’re welcome.

TYNAN’S DEAD CHICKEN INAPPROPRIATELY, BUT WELL-, HUNG.
AT LEAST I THINK HE’S PEEING.
HE’S AWFULLY CLOSE TO THAT SHEEP!
SUNDAY FACETIME WITH THE KID BROTHER.
HE WOULD TELL ME THE ABOVE IMAGES “ARE NOT NICE!”

AND, after a brief listen to this video, the Kid Brother would say,
“What are you nuts?!? Turn that junk off! Sheesh!”

It’s Greek To Me

There’s a local Greek restaurant called Santorini that we had never tried before. It’s well-rated, so we decided to check it out the other night with Tynan and Elena.

I told San Geraldo and Tynan that it was a 5-minute walk from our apartment. It was 8 minutes. And those whiners had the nerve to complain.

So sue me.

Anyway, they didn’t complain once we were there. Friendly and excellent service. Delicious and authentic dishes. And very affordable prices. The menu includes Spanish dishes, as well. But we stuck with what we were there for and went totally Greek. (Oh, stop it.)


(Click the images and enlarge the delicious.)

DOLMADES — STUFFED GRAPE LEAVES.
TZATZIKI.
(YOGURT, LEMON JUICE, OLIVE OIL, PEPPER DILL, CUCUMBER.)
KEBAB WITH TZATZIKI AND RICE (AND SALAD).

A nearby foursome (I swear it wasn’t us) followed their meal with a flaming drink called Queimada. The drink originates in Galicia (northwestern Spain). (Learn about it here.)

Elena explained the drink to us. She’s from Northern Spain, although quite a long distance from Galicia. But she’s very smart. And she has quite a bit of experience with alcoholic beverages.

COME ON BABY,  LIGHT MY FIRE.
(NO FLOWERS WERE HARMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS DRINK.)