There is a stranger asleep in our kitchen, sacked out on the floor in front of the butane heater. There´s a dog sacked out on either side of him, front and back.
I don´t know who this person is, but I´m assuming he´s a pilgrim. There´s a backpack outside the door. He´s wearing a fleece and waterproof shell and hood and a three-day beard. He didn´t take off his boots. It looks like he showed up and found the gate open and the men at work inside the house, and the dogs shut in the kitchen. (we´ve been out at the lumberyard all morning.)
This is a first. I realize this guy might be a psycho killer or a hobo, but I don´t feel too afraid, as there are so many other people around. There´s very little of value in here anyone would want to steal. Una and Tim evidently made him feel right at home. There´s coffee made in the pot, and the milk is out. Thank goodness I vacuumed the floor yesterday, or the dust would stop his breathing. If the stinky dogs don´t suffocate him, nothing will.
We´re stepping over and around the big snoozing pile.
We´ll wake him up in time for lunch and find out who he is.
But for now, he obviously badly needs to sleep.
This is what the Camino in February will do to a guy.