I´m in the curl-up-under-the-bed-and-stay-there kind of mood, and that is not such a bad idea, seeing as the temperatures have dropped and the sky has been overcast all day. It might be warmer under there, even if the floor is concrete. We broke out the propane heater, even. C´mon, Indian Summer! I´m ready!
I went to a doctor appointment yesterday in Leon, and wouldn´t you know, that´s when my old bud Sophronia and her crew showed up at The Peaceable. (The annual gyn checkup in Spanish...another blog entirely, for a limited audience!) Paddy got phone numbers etc., so in the evening we went into Sahagun to meet Soph and her husband Jeff and their three wild n´crazy camino hiking pals at El Cordoníz, a semi-posh restaurant. It was a really nice escape from the house and the Oppressive Hopelessness that hangs over the place. It seems this crowd has a fondness for gin & tonics, and had an early start while Paddy and I were downtown picking up dog medicine and dropping off the saw at the Chainsaw Boutique for sharpening.
Sophronia and I tried to catch up on six years of life... we walked part of the Camino together in the spring of 2001. She´s from Massachusetts, has 5 grownup kids, helped run a homeless shelter for years in Cambridge and recently got a social work degree and went to work with fractured families. She is a good person to talk to, as she too has a rocky love/hate relationship with Episcopalianism.
We chattered away in Spanish most of the meal (which was citrus duck with raisins.. Wow!) One of the Madrileños said El Corte Ingles, the horrorshow Spanish department store, has the best building contractor business in Spain, she´s used it and can recommend it. ´Wish I´d known that before!´ I told her, but it was too loud for her to hear me, or she was too busy singing...
Anyway, this morning we called El Corte Ingles in Leon. They told us the contracting business ´doesn´t exist.´ (a favorite Spanish phrase meaning "I haven´t heard of it personally and/or I don´t want to be bothered to find out.") And Bozo Fran, who said he was coming here this morning to meet with us and explain everything, did not show. I didn´t cry. I was pretty disgusted, though. We decided to walk.
(Libby´s walking, taking her time on the Camino. Sounds like she is doing very well indeed.)
Sophronia and Jeff this morning were walking from Sahagun up the old Roman Road to El Burgo Ranero, (aka ´frog town´), along the same stretch where we saw the funnel cloud a few months back. We drove up with the dogs and met them and walked along too. We needed to get out and move. We did a respectable number of kilometers in good company. I got to talk to someone else about what we are dealing with, how very dark things look, and how desperate it feels to not know what the next step should be.I heard myself saying "adventures always suck when you´re in the middle of them, in the part where you´re trapped and the boulder is rolling toward you and you can´t see any way out."
I wonder when we will see the way out of this. I wonder if the dollar will recover in time to be of any use to us here. I wonder if we will live in our kitchen all winter like pioneers. A lot of them old pioneers killed each other out there on the prairie. What will be left of us, and this stupid underfunded dream, when Spring finally comes again? Will Our Heros see daylight in time and emerge with the Golden Idol just before the poison darts pepper their flesh? Or will they become the grinning skeletons chained to the wall in the background?
All you guys out there who pray, please do. We need some daylight.
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