I am unwell.
I tried to write a blog last night about our wonderful local newspaper, but it came out all lumpen. It must be all the antihistimines.
Or maybe I really have lost my old ability to make any old story "sing."
For now I will leave that job to Bob, who was born to it.
Only interesting thing this week is related to this very blog.
I had an email on Monday from a man who says he is Julian, brother to Esteban, native of this very village -- the older brother who, like so many rural Spaniards in years past -- sought his fortune in Germany and still lives up there. He´s loving the blog, which he considers a refreshing visit to his beloved hometown.
Problem is, Esteban and Estebanito flew to Germany a couple of weeks ago. To attend Julian´s funeral.
Eerie, man. I haven´t answered the email yet, nor asked Esteban if he has another brother in Germany named Julian ... time will tell. Meantime, thank you Julian, wherever you are.
And now I´m having a plateload of Paddy´s steaming, delicious Dirty Rice, and watching big hanks of snow fall outside -- I am assured it is the last of the year. After my nap I will plant seeds in little pots, and put them in the little greenhouse to start off: brussels sprouts, poppies, peas. Hope.