… hasn’t happened very much this winter at all in my part of Spain, and we are all moaning about how much we need the water.
Normally the winter months ie Jan to March do see some decent rainfall, with snow on the mountains, but this year there has been muy poco (very little).
Naturally, on Saturday morning in Gibraltar, with a sulking tumble dryer, we awoke to hear the sound of rain on the window. Quite heavy. ‘Quickly,’ I ordered, from the comfort of my thermarest, ‘Get the washing in.’ Which he did.
Hey, he’d got up to make coffee, might as well make himself useful while I grabbed a few more minutes snooze time.
He’d done it remarkably quickly, so I draped it all around the flat, and hoped it would be dry on our return.
The journey up to Spain was cloudy, but no torrential downpours.
And then, it started spotting. As we approached our normal dogwalking stop by the beach, it was bucketing down. The dog doesn’t like the rain so we by-passed that one.
I jumped out elsewhere to take a few piccies.
We arrived home, jumped out, ran inside. We opened the door to watch the rain and the dog promptly ran outside!! He came back inside equally promptly. Silly dog.
It didn’t last long however, and today dawned bright and sunny although with a cold wind.
Just as I was getting brunch ready, José called me.
My heart sank. We were having some left over bean slop for breakfast and some tempeh sandwiches.
He proffered a plate of sweet Spanish cakey things that they eat at Easter. Adelina had got two glasses ready for us to get rat-arsed on anis while getting sugar-overdosed on the cakey things. Roscas de Pascua.
I explained we were coming back to Gib so we couldn’t drink while driving and we were about to eat and ….
Their little faces fell. Partner came out and saved the day by picking up one of the cakes and shovelling it in. I caved in and said I would have a glass of anis after all (passenger me so no worries there). They looked much happier.
There was a long chat about how they hadn’t seen us over Easter to offer us these goodies, and we were often gone too soon.
We sighed in sympathy and pointed out that we did have to go to work (well, Partner does), and there ain’t much of that in España right now.
From there we discussed world politics as you do, which as usual included Gib’s status and the Spanish claim, and Argentina sabre-rattling about the Falklands. I did notice some weeks ago that the first motion on the agenda for the new Argentine parliament was about Las Malvinas. (Spanish for Falkland Islands). I do think President Kirchner should back off with her bellicose bollocks, or perhaps she thinks she is the new Margaret Thatcher?
However, we managed to avoid falling out with our neighbours, and in the midst of these political hot topics, Adelina was busy saying how she had made the roscas. This was probably because after so many years of living next to us, they know exactly what we eat and don’t eat. So many bought Spanish sweet things are full of lard. I still left the roscas alone, and we agreed to take the rest of them back with us as Partner’s compañeros will no doubt appreciate them tomorrow. Or maybe not.