It made a lovely sound when it landed

Oh, you would have loved the noise, this delightful splintering smash with pops and a trickle on of small bits landing. I went up to the terrace, three stories over the road, and stationed the kids on the balcony so we didn't brain any neighbours and then let it rip. It was so lovely, the TV went next, followed by the phone and the VCR...........smash, boom, crash, pop. The tube in the TV was the best, a huge banging pop, like a hundred corks pulled out at oncce, and then tinkles that went on and on and on.

Actually I lie and lie and lie. Though there was a point today...... And someone is throwing out a TV, it is out there in the street all neglected. The husband even offered to haul it up for theraputic purposes, but no, we're new here and its a small town, and I would like some of the neighbours children to be allowed to come here to play someday..................

I did rip the back porch off the house one day though, with a circular saw and two crowbars....... it made lovely tearing noises too.

We're all weird aren't we

Well, not so dramatic today. In fact a mixed bag so to speak. This morning was one of those mornings when you buzz around and stuff gets DONE. Good thing too, because this afternoon wasn't. Battled the damn computer and it's winning. At this stage, I can only e-mail my CV. Cannot create any sort of document that I can print. Hmmmmmm maybe a draft from here??????? Fortunately people like e-mail. I was suprisingly good humoured about the whole battle as I have a long history of computer abuse. At work in the summers I have restrained myself and only slapp it hard. This laptop screen doesn't look like it will take the punching that those desk top models can. Kids thought I was losing my mind as I started making up silly songs about the computer driving me crazy.
Living here is never boring. This morning I was happy and content that my Catalan is coming along, and I am growing increasingly capable. By the end of the Catalan class tonight though I was fairly convinced I am the dimmest bulb in the box. Granted, everyone else speaks Castillian fairly fluently so can understand, say the explanations and instructions, but hey! Nothing like taking foreign language lessons in a second foreign language. I will NEVER get the two languages sorted out.

Here's some weird quirks from Catalonia and the language:
They have two words for a headboard and none for a footboard on a bed.
There is no word for a power bar, not the food, the one for the computer, in either Catalan or Castillian.
What we would call a coffee shop, they call a granja, which is a word that also means a farm. Go figure. Tim Hortons, home home on the range.

There is only a ruler. Whether it is a french curve, a foot long, one of those rectangular ones with the template shapes cut out, Engineers scales, etc. I think draftsmen here must have the worst time.
-Pass me the ruler please.
-This one?
- No the other one
-The one with the holes in it?
-No, the other one.
-The one with the curvey sides?
-etc etc etc.

I found a website though with 2000 obsene catalan words. Man I gotta be careful, there are a lot of mistakes you can make.

They have a character who is traditional in the nativity scenes here too, you know Mary and Josep and all, there is this guy, who looks for all the world like a French Canadian voyageur, squatting with his pants down, and there is a steaming loaf right behind him. Earthy humour. Not sure where he is supposed to stand, next to Mary? Behind Josep? Is this an offering on par with the Frankinscense.(How do you spell that word?)

This is a great story too. They need a little work with the copy editing in places. One of the local newspapers struggles with the multiple languages. They publish some stories in Catalan and some in Castillian, and throw in some English ones to boot. This was a kid's story. I don't remember the whole tale, but at one point a juggler "gets off the bus with his balls in his hands and he goes over to a little boy and asks him if he wants to play with them." 'nuff said. I should be able to find work.

Here's a final one I love. I've been struggling to read Harry Potter in Catalan, V_E_R_Y S_L_O_W_L_Y. I can get lost for a page or two and still figure out what the hell is going on, although my vocabulary is getting a little weird. Anyway, as I am reading, I get to one phrase, pujar un mosc al nas. Well I look it up. Push up, a fly, your nose. Push a fly up your nose. Now while I haven't exactly got the Potter oevre memorised, I didn't remember anything like that, so I asked around. Apparently when you are angry here, the phrase goes, (or idiom for you grammatical types) you push a fly up you nose. So look out kids, don't irritate your Mom, never know WHAT will happen.

I am sure we're just as nuts in English, we just got used to ourselves and think it's normal. Oh, I'll set a challenge, who can come up with truely bizarre English phrases that we just don't notice anymore..... Post 'em here.................

And as a final comment, two almost impossible to say english words. Rural, and try this five times fast, sixths.

I just keep adding to this, here's another stumper, a box wrench, ...you know the one that doesn't slip off and strip the nut (keep your minds out the the gutter here folks). ANYWAY, the box wrench is called a clau anglais. An english key! Go figure.

Beauty and violence

Friends of ours are crossing the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas today, and I am so jealous. They have a big beautiful catamaran that they built themselves, and they are simply amazing people. They have been at a rendezvous this weekend that we have joined them at for the last few years. I knew it would get harder as we moved into the season when we are usually on board our beautiful boat. The water over there is so stunning, like nothing else you can imagine anywhere, and there are many friends and lots of fish to snorkel with and I miss it a lot.

That said. Must stop before I become maudlin.

We got sent photos about this artist and they are amazing, scroll down to the 2D illusions here.

Went into Barcelona this weekend, to Parc Guell. Designed by Antoni Gaudi, look at pictures here. Tons of people, tons of amazing architecture and tons of guys selling stuff on rugs. What we hadn't expected was some local teenage blokes, who really should have toboggans. They are in the wrong climate. They had large sheets of ply, and plastic siding, and they were starting off at the very top of incredibly long flights of stairs. These stairs are outdoors and go up a mountain. We are talking 15 or 20 flights. They sit on these sheets, and as you would expect slide down the stairs. The ply or plastic sheets are long enough to cover most of a flight of stairs. The hammering their kidneys were taking as they rattled over these mini-moguls must have a lasting effect, and when they rolled off, well, lest say, don't try this at home folks. Good way to get in a lot of tourists photo albums.
Predictably we were the only people there without a camera of any sort. No fancy cell phone and we don't yet own a camera of any kind. Not even a disposable. Maybe one of these days.

Walked down the mountain into Barcelona, eating chocolate croissants, gotta like that kind of hiking, and stopping in stores to look at shoes, bought mugs and small stuffed animals, when out of the blue a bizarre and for the kids rather uncomfortable event. All of a sudden there were 3 guys running past, fast as they could go with large gym bags on their backs, then a few more. There are quite a few illegal street vendors who lay out goods on rugs that they can roll up fast and stuff into these bags and go. These looked to be some of them. We stop to see who is following them. A few more go by, making increasingly dangerous moves as they run through the traffic, obviously the pursuer is getting closer, a couple more and then one last guy, younger, slower and less co-ordinated. This is all in complete silence. The drivers are not even blowing their horns. Then comes the pursuer, and he is catching the last one. They deek and turn several time and the pursuer is older, heavier and gaining. The younger guy ran out into the intersection and was about to get caught, and it looked like he was about to get the pounding of a lifetime, so he slipped his bag off, and his luck held, by chance the chaser stumbled over the bag, gave up and took the bag. He went back to a bystander who had picked up his keys, kicked the knapsack around a few times and then walked off with it. This was all completely silent. None of them said a peep, even their runners were quiet. None of the pedestrians joined in, no cars got involved, no one yelled anything and then it was over. The kids questions went on for a long time, and I am glad we didn't see the beating that looked imminent. Who was in the right? Hard to say, but if a guy that big was chasing me, and I had that many friends around? I think I would be yelling if I were innocent. We'll never know.

Today, a walk in the mountains behind the house. Spectacular view, kids investigated ants, and ate wild anise seeds, debated picking prickly pears, looked like a different sub-species though and met a hunter in full fatigues and the works. Looked like a lot of effort for a rabbit or a pheasant. Not that big a gun but the kids thought it was. More brushes with violence than we are used to, although the kids didn't seem that disturbed. They did wonder why people still hunt though.

Watched some fairly hilarious sailboat spinnaker work. That baby looked like it was headed back to the sailmaker.

Aaaaaaggghhhh Dorky Dad already tagged everyone I know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK,

For those of you not aware of it, I was tagged in the last post, and I have to confess to 6 weird things about me...... then I have to tag 6 other bloggers, list them here, and leave them notes on their blogs. They must do the same. Since Dorky Dad, who tagged me, also tagged every single other blog I usually read, this should get interesting.

So whomever you are whose blogs I find, and acknowlege.....BLAME HIM.

6 weird things about me, I am sure my kids could come up with six, NO PROBLEM

1: I hate refrigerators. I hate the noise they make all the time, and it is such a relief when they turn off. I hate the electricity they use, and I hate that they are so damn big that we end up storing all sorts of things in them that don't need to be kept cool. And they are so big . I mean really.

2: I talk to strangers, ALL the time. I didn't think I did. My mother told me I shouldn't. I thought for a long time that they just talk to me, but upon study, while they talk to me sometimes, I indeed talk to them. All the time. Sorry Mom.

3: I lose my wallet really often. Well, it usually isn't actually lost, but I am not sure exactly where it is, and I have as the crowning gem of these events, actually gone all the way to France without my wallet. It was in my raincoat pocket. In the closet. At home. Had the passport anyway.

4: I have only one pair of shoes. This, particularily for a woman is a very weird thing. As a past shoe fan, not in Imelda's class, but there have been times when I had over 20 pairs. Then I got pregnant, and none of them fit. Not fair. I had been wearing the same pair of shoes since before I met my husband. When they finally died this summer and I got a new pair, he dubbed these shoes..... you guessed it......WEIRD! Granted, he had rarely seen me in other footwear and it must have been strange. As we will be in Poland at Christmas however, and facing the first winter weather in four years, I may have to get something other than these sandals. Now that will be weird.

5: I am not picky about tea. This may not seem weird to you Americans, but to my British relatives, it is downright bizarre. I just spent 10 days with them, and stopped offering to make it for them.. I like chai, different types of tea, will drink it cold I will even drink the same pot all even when it gets cold.

6: I break the handles off of mugs all the time when I am washing them, and then continue to use them anyway. I gave up. I broke the handle off SOOOOOO many mugs, and they still held fluid, so I gave up throwing them away..... this is living dangerously though, they are suprisingly sharp I discovered one day and 6 stitches later. Now I file down the handle left-overs and still use them. That probably is pretty weird.

Now I need to find 6 blogs to tag.

Mr K, french freek in france, Tracie B, Expat Mama,The Spanish Cockpit (this is taking one VERY long time to find blogs) Sorry folks, I may look for more tomorrow, but it is late and I've read a GABILLioooooooonnnnnnnn blogs.

Work and languages and fun with text.

Looking for work here is kind of exciting. Had to hold it off until we got a phone, just doesn't look good on the CV if you don't. Getting the phone was exciting in and of itself. Hookup charge is 100 Euros, that's about 130 Canadian dollars folks, plus we were told we would have to wait three week to get them to come at that price. When we managed to choke the idea of the cost down and asked them come to do the work, we were then informed that there were no phone lines available in our town, and we would have to wait until at least the New Year. This is part of the EU isn't it? Well then we get the call that the guys will be showing up at 9 am the next day, and GUESS WHAT? THEY DO!!!! Only 20 minutes late too! When they leave we have a phone and internet all hooked up, and we are off. Weirdness. Better than in Poland where they phoned my sister up to tell her that they were not going to be able to install her phone that YEAR and maybe she would get it next year. _*sheesh* and we complain if they can't tell us if it will be in the morning or evening.

I've got a call into the local schools who are looking for an English teacher for after school classes, could be a foot in the door, but I had to get the husband to call because while my Catalan is getting better and better, the phone is still tricky. I can't wave my hands around at all.

Looked up the Montessori schools in Barcelona as possibilities, one looks like a maybe, but the other appears to be run by the Italian consulate and seems to be in Italian. Now I am already a pretty mixed up girl trying to learn Catalan and Spanish at the same time, but if I have to Italian too..........

In a land of multi-linguists, I look pretty pathetic in my monolinguistic hole.


_{Thanks to http://chchatter.blogspot.com for the lead on HTML editing, and www.ptialaska.net/~melissag/ for the lesson}

My kids keep bugging me while I am writing, it doesn't improve it. Although I will grant that I am doing it while homeshooling them.

Pics from us sailing in the Bahamas

Who is that frog girl?



On the beach at Allen's Cay, there is a population of lizards that live there and no where else in the world. They are, as you can see, very bold. They are also very beautiful.




The girls and I sailing the dingy, it was really good fun to sail, but the rig was slow. May re-rig it to something a little speedier.

Here we are in a race, obviously the concentration is amazing. With us is Mike from Twice in a Blue Moon, his wife Pat took the picture, along with all the photos above. They are great people. (and have to come and visit us soon, that means YOU)

A pic of us sailing in Georgetown in the Bahamas, photo is by friends off "Ketch Ya Later'

Well, a short glimpse of our former life.... Not many yet of the Spanish adventure, we'll all have to wait and see.

Spanish stamina part 3

11:45, more people have arrived, and they are still going strong. I am amazed that this is not the biggest nation of obnoxious bitchy people in the world. I would be....How do they do it?????????

Spanish stamina part 2

11:10, more people just arrived......

Spanish stamina

One of the things that amazes me the most about living here is the sheer stamina of the Spanish, or at least of the Catalans we dwell amongst. Granted, after last evenings festivities, I am not exactly feeling spry and lively, but these people are amazing. It is Wednesday night, at 10:25 and there is a party building up downstairs. We can hear their doorbell ring, so we know people are just arriving. There are thee guys who live down there, all in their mid-twenties, and a couple of girlfriends are kicking around. They all get up and go in the morning. They will probably all go out in about half an hour, this is what usually happens. They do this several nights a week. We haven't figured out their schedual for when they get in, but it is at all hours. Someone frequently around 3 am and then someone gets in usually at around 6am.
We asked X's cousin about this, and this is normal. Most clubs don't open till 1am, and close at 6. The "after-hours" clubs start up at about 6:30. It brings the thought of raising teenagers to a scary level. As the cousins put it, the problem is not that they go out, its that they never return.
The school kids are the same. They don't go to bed until at least 10 pm on weekdays, and get up for school at the usual time. Weekends, they stay up till 12 or 1 am. These are grade school kids, you know 6 or 7. And the siesta? No such thing as far as I can see. Kids have a two hour lunch, first hour eating, then an hour playing outside in the street. Now I know what I would be like and what my kids would be like after that.......

The flip side of the coin on this is that it is a culture that truely enjoys their children and has no desire to pack them off to bed as soon as they can. Still.........how do they do it?

Well....it wasn't the shrimp......but......

Yes indeed a nasty night was had. It wasn't the shrimp as no one else foundered. Thank goodness, the image of all of us jostling for space at the one and only loo doesn't bear comtemplating. At least on the boat there was plenty of room on the rail, although I now remember I was the only one who ever needed it.

Nasty night, better in the morning, although achy and tired and yucky.

'Nuff said.