Another Brilliant Idea? / ¿Otra Idea Brillante?

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

OK, I’M GOING to tell you what I really think of our new so-called fountain across the street (click here).

It’s not a fountain! It’s a wading pool!

It seems obvious (to me at least) that no one at City Hall gave significant thought to what would happen after they installed a wading pool that is not supposed to be a wading pool alongside the beach.

People wade in it!

Children of all ages play in it!

Children of all ages wash their feet in it!

It’s already filled with sand, it’s going to be impossible to keep clean, and it’s going to be a health and safety hazard. Oh, and I already saw someone try to pull off one of the flags!

These must be the same people that decided painting the natural boulders near the Port of Fuengirola to “look like a giant mosaic” (click here) was a great idea.

AND, YES, I DO REALIZE THAT my over-reaction to this little bit of idiocy is a way of avoiding what really matters in this world of ours. Like corrupt governments; dishonest politicians; human rights abuses; climate change; environmental time bombs; racism; hatred; homophobia; misogyny; terrorism; xenophobia; religious fundamentalism; Brexit; a dishonest, ignorant, narcissistic, giant Cheeto in Washington, D.C.; and, worse than the giant Cheeto, his supporters. There, I’ve said it. So, now I’m going across the street to wash my feet.

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VALE, VOY A decir lo que realmente pienso de nuestra nueva, supuesta, fuente al otro lado de la calle (haz clic aquí).

¡No es una fuente! ¡Es una piscina poco profunda!

Parece obvio (al menos para mí) que nadie en el Ayuntamiento pensó mucho en lo que sucedería después de instalar una piscina para niños que no se supone que sea una piscina para niños junto a la playa.

¡Niños de todas las edades juegan en él!

¡Niños de todas la edades se lavan los pies!

Ya está lleno de arena, será imposible mantenerlo limpio, y representará un peligro para la salud y la seguridad. ¡Ah, y ya vi que alguien intentaba sacar una de las banderas!

Deben ser las mismas personas que decidieron pintar las rocas naturales cerca del Puerto de Fuengirola “parecer un mosaico gigante” (haz clic aquí) fue una gran idea.

Y, SÍ, ME DOY CUENTA de que mi reacción exagerada a esta pequeña idiotez es una forma de evitar lo que realmente importa en este mundo nuestro. Como gobiernos corruptos; políticos deshonestos; abusos de derechos humanos; cambio climático; bombas de tiempo ambientales; racismo; odio; homofobia misoginia; terrorismo; xenofobia; fundamentalismo religioso; Brexit; un Cheeto gigante (deshonesto, ignorante, narcisista) en Washington, D.C .; y, peor que el gigante Cheeto, sus seguidores. Ahí lo he dicho. Entonces, ahora voy a cruzar la calle para lavarme los pies.

The foot bath.
El baño de pies.
And about those mobility scooters the teenagers and their mother were racing around the pedestrians. Oh, don’t get me started.
Y sobre esos scooters de movilidad, los adolescentes y su madre corrían alrededor de los peatones. Oh, no me hagas empezar.

Not The Last Supper / No La Ultima Cena

ON MY WAY home from the orthodontist this evening, I was elated to discover that sand sculptor Paul Blane’s last Last Supper was not in actuality his LAST Last Supper. He’s back on the beach here in Fuengirola creating another meal for Semana Santa. And I hope this one is also not his last. I’ll be back with more photos later in the week. I’m guessing Paul will have this year’s creation completed by Maundy Thursday in time to commemorate that other Last Supper.

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EN MI CAMINO a casa del ortodoncista esta tarde, me alegré al descubrir que la última Última Cena de Paul Blane, el escultor de arena, no fue en realidad su ÚLTIMA Última Cena. Él está de vuelta en la playa aquí en Fuengirola creando otra comida para Semana Santa. Y espero que éste tampoco sea el último. Volveré con más fotos más adelante en la semana. Supongo que Paul tendrá la creación de este año completada por el Jueves Santo a tiempo para conmemorar la Última Cena oficial

Paul, getting more water. / Paul, consiguiendo más agua.

A Sacred Cow / Una Vaca Sagrada

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

Lately, our local sand sculptures haven’t really excited me, and I was just Wednesday morning thinking about how much I’ve missed Paul Blane. He lives nearby and, during our first few years in Fuengirola, I could find him on the beach most days creating exceptional works of art (click here). He’s got the perfect combination of skill, talent, creativity, intelligence, and wit.

Paul has been busy with other things these couple of years and I had thought of writing him this week. So, what a great surprise to be out for a walk and come upon Paul creating something for Christmas. He may only be available temporarily but he brightened up my week. He’s still applying the finishing touches. So I’ll be back.

Ultimamente, nuestras esculturas de arena locales realmente no me han emocionado, y el miércoles por la mañana estaba pensando en lo mucho que extrañaba a Paul Blane. Él vive cerca y, durante nuestros primeros años en Fuengirola, lo pude encontrar en la playa casi todos los días creando maravillosas obras de arte. (haz clic aquí). Él tiene la combinación perfecta de habilidad, talento, creatividad, inteligencia, e ingenio.

Paul ha estado ocupado con otras cosas estos dos años y había pensado escribirle esta semana. Entonces, qué gran sorpresa salir de paseo y encontrar a Paul creando algo para la Navidad. Puede que solo esté disponible temporalmente pero alegró mi semana. Él todavía está aplicando los toques finales. Así que volveré.

Wednesday. / El Miércoles
Paul replenishing supplies. / Paul, reponiendo suministros.
Thursday / El Jueves
Friday / El Viernes
Mary looks like she just got away with something. What could it be? / María parece a alguien que se salió con la suya. ¿Que podría ser?

A Trail Of Memories

I had my regular psychiatrist appointment yesterday. It’s not much more than a “med check” to ensure all is well. All is not well with one of my two meds, which I’ve been on for most of the 4-1/2 years we’ve been in Spain. I’ve noticed I’m experiencing some side-effects in recent months. Really very minor, but enough for us to make a change. So, I’m phasing off this one and will probably try something new soon.

(Click any image to make the trails — all bird prints — more clear.)

My visit was a revelation (I’d say Epiphany, but that was Wednesday). I can now easily speak with my psychiatrist, in Spanish, on any subject.

A WALK ON THE BEACH.

During our brief conversation, as I answered a question, it dawned on me that despite all the bumps in the road it turns out my life is the kind of life I fantasized about as a child. My sister Dale had the same kinds of childhood fantasies and, although her life was filled with bumps and only lasted 29 years, I think a lot of her fantasies came true, as well.

We both imagined lives different from most of our friends and family (not better, just different). We both imagined foreign lands, foreign loves. Dale traveled the world, married young, and lived in England with her foreign prince.

I met San Geraldo from South Dakota (even more foreign to a New Yorker than someone from England). We moved often, constantly re-imagining our lives. And now we’ve made a foreign land our home — and no longer foreign. And we’re still constantly re-imagining our lives.

The psychiatrist  asked me if I felt that Dale was traveling with me through life. Without hesitation, I said, “Absolutely.”

I was never a fan of author Louis L’Amour, but I like this:

“No memory is ever alone;
 it’s at the end of a trail of memories,
a dozen trails that each have their own associations.”


Where are you going?

Mister Sandman: Paul Blane

The last time I visited sand sculptor Paul Blane, he had just started creating his Christmas scene amid the rubble of The Simpson’s living room.

IN THE BEGINNING…
PAUL CREATED THE SIMPSONS.
22 DECEMBER:  MY PREVIOUS VISIT WITH PAUL.

I hadn’t managed to get back to that end of the beach until Sunday afternoon. My timing was perfect. Paul had just that morning completed his masterpiece.

As Paul wrote on his Facebook page:

“…8 days it took me, 15,000 litres of water fetched from the sea, by me, and about 1/2 tonne of blood, sweat, and tears…”

My American friends, that’s about 4,000 gallons of water! I wonder how much sand was used. I wasn’t there at the right time of day for the best pictures, but I managed. (Click any image to be wowed.)

THE MASTERPIECE (A COMPOSITE SHOT PROVIDED BY PAUL).
WE THREE KINGS…
BAA… BAA… BAA…
PLAYING CAT AND MOUSE…
STACKED PIGLETS…
HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM PAUL BLANE IN FUENGIROLA.
(AND FROM SAN GERALDO AND ME, TOO.)

Thanks, Mr. Sandman, for bringing us a dream…