Today`s (which, to be strictly accurate is now yesterday’s) highlights have undoubtedly been the gazpacho made by Toni and the paella mixta made by his mum. I laid the table. Nothing like working together to build up an appetite!
Today is basically a non-day.
It is merely the day before the World Cup Final in South Africa.
There is an air of tense anticipation which is steadily being whipped up into a nationalistic frenzy by the unbelievable television coverage. I don’t watch much television, but I have seen Puyol’s goal so many times that I feel that I am an active participant in the Association Football version of Groundhog Day!
I hope to god that Spain wins because I do not want to be anywhere near the recriminations and despair if they lose.
In Catalonia it is quite ironic that Spain are meeting Holland in the final as the relationship between Catalonia and Holland is quite a strong one based on Dutch players and coaches having done their time in Barça. Kruff who is seen as more than an honorary Catalan is in a particularly stressful position and he must be sick of being asked which side he supports; though he does now have an acceptable answer for the media off pat!
While shopping for the ingredients for the paella I met the Head of the Secondary Section of the last school in which I worked before my present one. In a quick chat she did stress that no member of the English Department had left – perhaps she was reading behind my eyes!
Her appearance did emphasise the tasks that I have left: the clearing up of the study. I will, after all, be teaching three new areas of study next year and I will not have the breathing space that I had last year. Last September we had a fortnight in school before the kids arrived; this year it is just a week. I know that sounds absurdly generous when British schools usually have two days max to get ready for the major teaching term of the year, but the writing of a three term course is no small thing, even if one only has to get the outline done.
What I should bear in mind is the mutability of firm plans in this country. I could well turn up on the 1st of September and find that my timetable bears no relationship to the one that I was given at the end of the last term. If anything happens to the History of Art bit then I will be seriously annoyed; and that is the part of the timetable which is most at risk. Although I was told that no, whatever happened, I would be teaching it the reality is more subject to ‘knock-on’ effects from other timetables than any other aspect of my allocations.
I will continue with the lesson plans that I am developing and hope for the best. And of course buy books and charge them to the school!
The medusa’s kiss is developing into quite a feature on my left leg. The casual contact of my limb with the tentacles of the floating blob has produced an ellipse of swellings which look like an encyclopaedia illustration of the phases of the Red Planet. I am liberally coating said area with a thick layer of the same transparent salve that didn’t work on Toni’s mosquito stings last year. But on the other hand I did ask for it in Spanish in Sitges in the central pharmacy which is the second most important feature of the quaint non-square shape square in the old town. The most important feature there is a restored Modernista clock which looks something straight out of The Brothers Grimm!
In a continuation of the Quick Spending of the Bonus of the Summer (we have 14 pay days with an extra one in June and in December – don’t ask) I have had to buy a new chair to replace the vaguely dentist-chair like contraption I had before. This has taken to slipping to one side and sitting on it involves a complex balancing act and is not really, in any sense, relaxing.
I have tried, in a general mood of ecology to find somewhere to repair the chair. Perhaps asking in furniture shops is not the right approach, but their looks of blank astonishment that anyone would want to try and get a chair repaired speaks volumes for the world in which we live.
I am well aware that I bought a new GPS because I ‘reasoned’ that the difference between a new device and the cost of up-dating the maps was small enough to be ignored. In the event of course I spent far more than I should have, but I do now have a GPS to which I can talk!
I do not talk to my new chair, but it is one which is solidly placed on four feet on the floor, rather than the single vulnerable post of the previous revolving masterpiece. The present one does of course recline and has a foot rest but it is not made of leather and it doesn’t go round. Even I am capable of making sacrifices!
I have resolved that some of the major tasks of the summer will have at least have to be contemplated with some degree of seriousness during the next week.
A seriousness which is seriously lacking in one of the flats on our left where ¡Fiesta! Has obviously been declared and all the rest of us have to join in!
Well the little raucous celebration in the flat will be as nothing compared to the national explosion of delight there will be if everything goes well in the southern hemisphere tomorrow.
We’ll see!
We saw!
Spain have won and all is well with the world. Though the same could not be said for the behaviour of the Dutch team (cheating bastards) and the English ref (incompetent fool) but, when all is said and done, and believe me Spanish television went on saying and doing well after everything that could be said and done was, well, said and done.
Every notable Spanish speaker in the South African crowd was, at some point, forced to give a completely inconsequential interview to some hyped up reporter.
The most touching interview was that given by the Spanish goalkeeper Iker Casillas (or “Bloody Casillas” as he is known to Barça supporters as he stops goal which should be scored against Real Madrid) to a female interviewer who also happened to be his girlfriend. Iker started well but, as he thanked his parents etc he became chocked up and finished the interview by giving the interviewer a full on kiss, to a round of applause and a muttered “¡Dios mio!” from the lady herself. It is a moment from the World Cup which is destined to be replayed many times! And believe you me, Spanish television has no qualms whatsoever about replaying quite mundane pieces of film ad nausium, so something of genuine interest becomes a sort of visual wallpaper on the screen!
But, away with jollifications: today is Monday and there are tasks to be done.
I have made a truly insignificant start to the clearing up of the Third Floor study by cutting some decorative plastic water bottles in half and filling them with pens, pencils, scissors, markers and highlighters. You can now see part of the surface of the desk. The only way is up!
But first a little light spending.
Today is basically a non-day.
It is merely the day before the World Cup Final in South Africa.
There is an air of tense anticipation which is steadily being whipped up into a nationalistic frenzy by the unbelievable television coverage. I don’t watch much television, but I have seen Puyol’s goal so many times that I feel that I am an active participant in the Association Football version of Groundhog Day!
I hope to god that Spain wins because I do not want to be anywhere near the recriminations and despair if they lose.
In Catalonia it is quite ironic that Spain are meeting Holland in the final as the relationship between Catalonia and Holland is quite a strong one based on Dutch players and coaches having done their time in Barça. Kruff who is seen as more than an honorary Catalan is in a particularly stressful position and he must be sick of being asked which side he supports; though he does now have an acceptable answer for the media off pat!
While shopping for the ingredients for the paella I met the Head of the Secondary Section of the last school in which I worked before my present one. In a quick chat she did stress that no member of the English Department had left – perhaps she was reading behind my eyes!
Her appearance did emphasise the tasks that I have left: the clearing up of the study. I will, after all, be teaching three new areas of study next year and I will not have the breathing space that I had last year. Last September we had a fortnight in school before the kids arrived; this year it is just a week. I know that sounds absurdly generous when British schools usually have two days max to get ready for the major teaching term of the year, but the writing of a three term course is no small thing, even if one only has to get the outline done.
What I should bear in mind is the mutability of firm plans in this country. I could well turn up on the 1st of September and find that my timetable bears no relationship to the one that I was given at the end of the last term. If anything happens to the History of Art bit then I will be seriously annoyed; and that is the part of the timetable which is most at risk. Although I was told that no, whatever happened, I would be teaching it the reality is more subject to ‘knock-on’ effects from other timetables than any other aspect of my allocations.
I will continue with the lesson plans that I am developing and hope for the best. And of course buy books and charge them to the school!
The medusa’s kiss is developing into quite a feature on my left leg. The casual contact of my limb with the tentacles of the floating blob has produced an ellipse of swellings which look like an encyclopaedia illustration of the phases of the Red Planet. I am liberally coating said area with a thick layer of the same transparent salve that didn’t work on Toni’s mosquito stings last year. But on the other hand I did ask for it in Spanish in Sitges in the central pharmacy which is the second most important feature of the quaint non-square shape square in the old town. The most important feature there is a restored Modernista clock which looks something straight out of The Brothers Grimm!
In a continuation of the Quick Spending of the Bonus of the Summer (we have 14 pay days with an extra one in June and in December – don’t ask) I have had to buy a new chair to replace the vaguely dentist-chair like contraption I had before. This has taken to slipping to one side and sitting on it involves a complex balancing act and is not really, in any sense, relaxing.
I have tried, in a general mood of ecology to find somewhere to repair the chair. Perhaps asking in furniture shops is not the right approach, but their looks of blank astonishment that anyone would want to try and get a chair repaired speaks volumes for the world in which we live.
I am well aware that I bought a new GPS because I ‘reasoned’ that the difference between a new device and the cost of up-dating the maps was small enough to be ignored. In the event of course I spent far more than I should have, but I do now have a GPS to which I can talk!
I do not talk to my new chair, but it is one which is solidly placed on four feet on the floor, rather than the single vulnerable post of the previous revolving masterpiece. The present one does of course recline and has a foot rest but it is not made of leather and it doesn’t go round. Even I am capable of making sacrifices!
I have resolved that some of the major tasks of the summer will have at least have to be contemplated with some degree of seriousness during the next week.
A seriousness which is seriously lacking in one of the flats on our left where ¡Fiesta! Has obviously been declared and all the rest of us have to join in!
Well the little raucous celebration in the flat will be as nothing compared to the national explosion of delight there will be if everything goes well in the southern hemisphere tomorrow.
We’ll see!
We saw!
Spain have won and all is well with the world. Though the same could not be said for the behaviour of the Dutch team (cheating bastards) and the English ref (incompetent fool) but, when all is said and done, and believe me Spanish television went on saying and doing well after everything that could be said and done was, well, said and done.
Every notable Spanish speaker in the South African crowd was, at some point, forced to give a completely inconsequential interview to some hyped up reporter.
The most touching interview was that given by the Spanish goalkeeper Iker Casillas (or “Bloody Casillas” as he is known to Barça supporters as he stops goal which should be scored against Real Madrid) to a female interviewer who also happened to be his girlfriend. Iker started well but, as he thanked his parents etc he became chocked up and finished the interview by giving the interviewer a full on kiss, to a round of applause and a muttered “¡Dios mio!” from the lady herself. It is a moment from the World Cup which is destined to be replayed many times! And believe you me, Spanish television has no qualms whatsoever about replaying quite mundane pieces of film ad nausium, so something of genuine interest becomes a sort of visual wallpaper on the screen!
But, away with jollifications: today is Monday and there are tasks to be done.
I have made a truly insignificant start to the clearing up of the Third Floor study by cutting some decorative plastic water bottles in half and filling them with pens, pencils, scissors, markers and highlighters. You can now see part of the surface of the desk. The only way is up!
But first a little light spending.
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