John Deere Does Sahagun

I think the pilgrim gave me her germ. My eyes are not working right. They keep falling asleep. My bones hurt.

There´s a big agricultural fair this weekend in Sahagún, and the throngs pouring in to view the latest trends in tractors and turkeys have snatched up all the good parking spaces. We are told there´s been an agriculture fair in Sahagún since sometime in the 1300s, long before John Deere was a twinkle in his daddy´s eye. (Although manure-spreaders and cement mixers were probably fixtures already in most civilized homes.)

The electricians are happily chopping channels into the walls and plaster and adobe, freeing the Living End of the Peaceable Kingdom from its more unpleasantly shocking tendencies. They have the hugest drills I ever saw, which may give rise to their jaunty and carefree air. The light they put up to illuminate the patio is not in keeping with the decor. (this is not because the light actually works, or is less than 30 years old. It is to say it is very industrial. But what the heck. We´ll get to charming and characteristic and rustic sometime down the road.)

The power keeps going on and off. That is my excuse for not answering all my emails. Be patient with me. The place is absolutely coated in plaster dust, and I don´t feel good.

Libby is in Palas de Rei, about three days short of Santiago. The doctor this morning told her to not walk for two days, or she will do some real damage... she´s got a sort of sciatica pain in her left leg, top to bottom. So she decided to only walk a mere 15k tomorrow. But I pulled the Mom Privilege card and told her No, Don´t Do That You Stupid Kid or I´ll Whup You Good. Palas de Rei is not exactly a swinging hotspot, but neither is the osteo ward. And in Spain, she´s got no health coverage.

So I will go and curl up in my bed in the apartment in Sahagún til I feel better. Don´t worry. Be happy. And I have health insurance.