“Risk of ice!”
This chilling message flashed up on the car computer, its ominous warning presaged by a little moue of disappointment from the vehicle in the form of a plaintive bleep, as if to sympathize with my horror.
Yesterday, during an otherwise pleasant and delicious lunch, Caroline informed me that it had, at one time, snowed in Castelldefels! Admittedly it had only been for one morning and her children had only been able to build a tiny snowman. But snow! In Castelldefels! My world has turned upside down and it is as if I can hear the cruel cackles of mocking laughter from my erstwhile friends trapped in the damp and frosty islands of the north.
Perhaps I am overreacting, and there is, after all, the rest of the day for Castelldefels to get its act together and produce the sunshine of which I know it is capable. The chair on the balcony is facing, optimistically, towards the east. I cast anxious glances through the window, trying to ignore the imprints of Carles’ hands still clearly visible since his visit last Sunday, searching for the first glimmerings of that liquid gold that tempted me to Spain.
Meanwhile I will have a nice cup of tea and that will warm me up!
God bless Castelldefels: by half past three it was warm enough to sit out on the balcony facing the heat from that star ninety three million miles away and wondering where the sun tan lotion was! In December! And its good to see that there are still flowers in the garden to act as subject matter for my new camera!
The Belén (The Crib - a traditional part of Catalan Christmas decoration) is provoking some domestic controversy. I have purchased a selection of what I regard as essential figures to complete the scene. These comprise a rather dowdy (I admit it) collection of workers. But I thought that they were more of a social comment: the flamboyant extravagance of the Wise Men contrasted with the sombre poverty of the real movers and shakers. A good socialist spin on what, without the metaphysical overtones, is really rather a squalid birth scene. Toni is not impressed by the dowdy colours and pointed out that the further figures that I have bought are actually of a different size to the others.
I have to admit that when I put the holy family in their stable there certainly wasn’t, to coin a phrase, much room at the inn, and the livestock were bulging out at the sides. The original family were therefore reinstalled and the usurping holy couple were relegated to the workers: Joseph to the shepherds and wood carriers and Mary to the water carriers. They do at least swell the crowd scenes.
The Magi are not very impressive with only a trace of glitter to distinguish them from the hoi polloi. At the moment the original Magi are lurking in the computer room in their entire vulgar colour and I’m not quite sure how to integrate them into the Belén without unsettling the careful stratification of society that I have engineered on what is now a very crowded drawer top!
God knows that the Pauls will make of it all!
This chilling message flashed up on the car computer, its ominous warning presaged by a little moue of disappointment from the vehicle in the form of a plaintive bleep, as if to sympathize with my horror.
Yesterday, during an otherwise pleasant and delicious lunch, Caroline informed me that it had, at one time, snowed in Castelldefels! Admittedly it had only been for one morning and her children had only been able to build a tiny snowman. But snow! In Castelldefels! My world has turned upside down and it is as if I can hear the cruel cackles of mocking laughter from my erstwhile friends trapped in the damp and frosty islands of the north.
Perhaps I am overreacting, and there is, after all, the rest of the day for Castelldefels to get its act together and produce the sunshine of which I know it is capable. The chair on the balcony is facing, optimistically, towards the east. I cast anxious glances through the window, trying to ignore the imprints of Carles’ hands still clearly visible since his visit last Sunday, searching for the first glimmerings of that liquid gold that tempted me to Spain.
Meanwhile I will have a nice cup of tea and that will warm me up!
God bless Castelldefels: by half past three it was warm enough to sit out on the balcony facing the heat from that star ninety three million miles away and wondering where the sun tan lotion was! In December! And its good to see that there are still flowers in the garden to act as subject matter for my new camera!
The Belén (The Crib - a traditional part of Catalan Christmas decoration) is provoking some domestic controversy. I have purchased a selection of what I regard as essential figures to complete the scene. These comprise a rather dowdy (I admit it) collection of workers. But I thought that they were more of a social comment: the flamboyant extravagance of the Wise Men contrasted with the sombre poverty of the real movers and shakers. A good socialist spin on what, without the metaphysical overtones, is really rather a squalid birth scene. Toni is not impressed by the dowdy colours and pointed out that the further figures that I have bought are actually of a different size to the others.
I have to admit that when I put the holy family in their stable there certainly wasn’t, to coin a phrase, much room at the inn, and the livestock were bulging out at the sides. The original family were therefore reinstalled and the usurping holy couple were relegated to the workers: Joseph to the shepherds and wood carriers and Mary to the water carriers. They do at least swell the crowd scenes.
The Magi are not very impressive with only a trace of glitter to distinguish them from the hoi polloi. At the moment the original Magi are lurking in the computer room in their entire vulgar colour and I’m not quite sure how to integrate them into the Belén without unsettling the careful stratification of society that I have engineered on what is now a very crowded drawer top!
God knows that the Pauls will make of it all!
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