Four days on Venus / Cuatro días en Venus

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

THE CHAIR HARDWARE ARRIVED FROM IKEA yesterday. We’re all very happy. The rugs were supposed to take four days to complete. Since Wednesday was 13 days (subtract two holidays and two weekends and it was still more than four days), I phoned the shop early that afternoon. I thought perhaps they were simply expecting us to show up. No, I was told, they’d be ready either Wednesday or Thursday and, yes, they would call me. Well, it’s Friday and still no rugs. If the owner had told us when we asked that it was going to take two months to fill our order, we would have said fine. But he told us four days. Maybe he meant four days on Venus, where one day is 5,832 hours.

At least the chair is now a real chair. I sat in it once yesterday. San Geraldo hasn’t had a turn. Dudo and Moose have taken it as their own and I think they’ve even written up a schedule because they haven’t had any problems sharing. I wonder if we can get slotted in.

We had dinner with Tynan and Elena last night at Mesón Salvador (two dinners out in one week). I had an exceptional salad — goat cheese, lettuce, spinach, walnuts, raisins. It was my first time and it won’t be my last. Delicious! San Geraldo and I shared a slice of cheesecake. We finished with our Pionono chupitos (shots). Lolo and Adrian made us feel loved.

I had a great walk yesterday afternoon, and I caught an excellent example of Fuengirola fashion (I suppose it should be called Fuengirola Foreigners Fashion). Today was English lesson with Jesica. She’s doing amazingly well, and I’m learning lots of new Spanish words.


LOS TORNILLOS DE LA SILLA llegó de IKEA ayer. Estamos todos muy felices. Se suponía que las alfombras tardarían cuatro días en completarse. Como el miércoles eran 13 días (reste dos días festivos y dos fines de semana y todavía eran más de cuatro días), llamé a la tienda temprano esa tarde. Pensé que quizás simplemente estaban esperando que nos presentáramos. No, me dijeron, estarían listos el miércoles o el jueves y, sí, me llamarían. Bueno, es viernes y todavía no hay alfombras. Si el propietario nos hubiera dicho cuando le preguntamos que tomaría dos meses completar nuestro pedido, habríamos dicho que estaba bien. Pero nos dijo cuatro días. Quizás se refería a cuatro días en Venus, donde un día son 5.832 horas.

Al menos la silla ahora es una silla real. Me senté en ella una vez ayer. No creo que San Geraldo haya tenido un giro. Dudo y Moose lo han tomado como propio y creo que incluso han escrito un horario porque no han tenido ningún problema para compartir. Me pregunto si podemos ubicarnos.

Cenamos con Tynan y Elena anoche en Mesón Salvador (dos cenas en una semana). Comí una ensalada excepcional: queso de cabra, lechuga, espinaca, nueces, pasas. Fue mi primera vez y no será la última. ¡Delicioso! San Geraldo y yo compartimos una pieza de tarta de queso. Terminamos con nuestros chupitos de Pionono. Lolo y Adrian nos hicieron sentir amados.

Ayer por la tarde tuve un gran paseo, y pude ver un excelente ejemplo de la moda de Fuengirola (supongo que debería llamarse Moda de Extranjeros de Fuengirola). Hoy fue una lección de inglés con Jesica. Lo está haciendo increíblemente bien y estoy aprendiendo muchas palabras nuevas en español.

Love from Lolo. / Amor de Lolo.
Love from Adrian. / Amor de Adrian.

The Cat In The Hat

I used to hate wearing hats. Since arriving in Spain, however, I discovered that if I wear a decent hat when it rains, I don’t have to carry an umbrella.

That hat became known as my Frank Sihatra Not (as friend Darrin said when his tongue slipped, meaning to say “Frank Sinatra hat” click here for that story).

I’ve had a shiny head for many years and the sun has never bothered me. This year, however, I’ve noticed I’m not as tough (meaning “young”) as I used to be when it comes to the sun’s heat. I’ve been hit with heat exhaustion a couple of times and I don’t want to end up with heatstroke.

It’s time to give in to the hat. (My father hated hats even more than I do and he gave in to the hat when he was in his 40s.)


I popped into a local market this morning while out for a walk and I found a lightweight, casual cap (as opposed to the two summer-weight Frank Sihatra Nots I have in the house).

I like everything about the cap except for the fact that it’s got a little tag that says “SPORTS.” There were other hats without the tag but they were heavy canvas. I shared my thoughts with the shop owner. He told me I was “delgado” and “un deportista” (slim and an athlete) and “Eh-sports” (his pronunciation) was appropriate in my case. I bought it. Hook line and sinker.

So, back to the title of this post: I am the Cat and this is my hat.

What’s Cooking On The Beach

Summer season is upon us, Fuengirola is getting busier (and more Spanish), and all the chiringuitos (the restaurants right on the beach) have fresh, skewered sardines cooking on open fires. I took these photos Monday. Most of what’s cooking looked delicious. But wait until you see the last photo!