Reconsiderations

In and out they come, the animals, seasons, fiestas, seeds and harvests, days and nights and travelers.

We have a new cat living on the workbench in our barn, a very beautiful kitten we named John Murphy, after the Very Irish Pilgrim who was staying here when the kitten showed up. We have two doves living in our spruce tree, and they sing duets and trios in the evening with Bob Canary.

For a few days we had another third dog, a little terrier we called Nobby. Today his real owner came and took him home.

I live a rather simple life these days, with the animals providing characters for our tiny drama. As you know, I have a blog, and a good number of readers. Writing the blog helps me feel like I am still connected to the outside world, like I still do something noticeable and enjoyable and maybe even a little important.

It looks like that might, for a while, have to go away too. On Friday we lost our internet connection. Now, Monday evening, the internet service provider phoned up from Madrid to tell us it´s back, New and Improved.

But not here. We still cannot connect, and the provider guy, after much head-scratching, says our computer is not recognized by their system, and it cannot be any of their doing, and why´d we want a Mac anyway? I phoned Jean-Marc, the Mac God. He gave it a try, but he is in Paris. The Mac is in Moratinos. No dice.

So, dear readers, seeing as we now must travel 9 km. to use the internet, Big Fun in a Tiny Pueblo may need to scale back radically for a while, or maybe even disappear. This is mighty upsetting to me, but I hope it is for the best.

You may just miss out on details like our epic search for sheep manure, the driving exam drama, the pilgrim parade, the bullfight in Palencia.

But the Mac still works. I still can write on it. I just can´t use it to connect to the interne at home at The Peaceable. I lived for many years without Internet. I can still do that, I think. Maybe this way I will no longer be so distracted. I can get some “real” writing done.

Suddenly I feel miles and miles from everywhere. Our telephones don´t work much of the time, and we cut down the TV antenna mast, and now our Internet is severed. The pilgrim numbers are diminishing as summer comes to an end.

It´s hard not to imagine we soon will disappear altogether… or the outside world will vanish from our sight, while we live on in our own tiny world. We will send out letters now and then, to a small circle of individuals, messages in bottles, cries from the wilderness.

We may curl up inside our ochre walls with the doves, and two fine dogs, and now the beautiful barn cat.

Maybe it´s not so bad. Maybe there is an easy solution. We still are looking. Please be patient.

But I face it: Sometimes it´s really tough, living as a foreigner out here in a strange land. I miss you guys.