Un refrano

A little advice, from Spain and me, to all of you...

Le dijo el mosquito a la rana
Más vale morir en vino
Que vivir en agua. -Quevedo

(For those of you who are Spanish-challenged: Said the mosquito to the frog / It is better to die in wine / Than to live in water.)

Ashley and I saw this quote on a plaque in Segovia last weekend, and we decided it´s a good life philosophy. No, not to be taken literally -- I don´t think it means one should drink all the time. But it means live in the moment, go places, carpe diem and all that jazz. (Bear with me...it´s after midnight here!)

If I could share a glimpse of Spanish life with all of you, I would have chosen tonight. Concha unfortunately had to go to a party, but Victor, Elena, Ignacio and I had dinner together...around 10 p.m., which doesn´t even faze me anymore. (Apparently I´ve assimilated.)

We ate on the patio. Ignacio set the table with yellow and blue placemats and and candles and pretty white and blue plates. (I don´t think this family even owns paper plates.) Our meal was really simple, just pizza and salad, but it was a beautiful, warm night and the conversation was lively. It reminded me of my first night here, when we had a similar meal, except now I really feel at home with the family, free to joke around and be part of the conversation. It really made me realize, as well, how much my Spanish has improved since I arrived, when I compared how much of the conversation I followed tonight (virtually all of it) to my first night here. Of course, it also made me miss my own family, but I´ve really been blessed to be with these people.

Forgive me if I wax a little poetic. I can assure you it´ll be even worse when I go to Italy!

As for updates on my amazing and exciting adventures (ha) today I went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum in Madrid...and isn´t that one heck of a name?! It was formed from a huge private collection by some rich German-Hungarian family, my guidebook tells me. Anyway, on my way inside, I became acquainted with two British ladies in their thirties on vacation ("on holiday") and we decided to tour the museum together. Their names were Cathy and Louise. It was a great time. They said things like "blimey" and "bloke" and generally kept me in stitches. Afterward, we stopped at a sidewalk café and had coffee and cake. Yay for new friends!

And speaking of new friends...I was just kidding about marrying the Spanish policeman, Manolo. IF I were to marry a Spaniard, it´d be Pedro. (I know, try to keep up. Sometimes I get confused, too.)

Who, you might ask, is Pedro? I met him earlier this week in Madrid...he´s 25, a lawyer (but currently unemployed) and cute as all get-out. We´re talking tall, dark, and handsome, here. And...he speaks English! Don´t worry, folks, I have my head on straight. And I won´t come back married! (haha, Lyndsey!) But as the mosquito said to the frog... ;-)