far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Saturday, October 27, 2007

One morning more than a week ago, a city truck pulled into the plaza down the street from here, the crew spent an hour or two stringing up wires -- the first small warning that the holiday season is slowly approaching. The smallest of warnings, really, a gentle, transient blip on the local radar screen -- they're far more restrained here than in the States when it comes to rolling out the holiday frufru. The lights that will hang from those wires won't appear until late November, won't get turned on until early December. But the calendar entries are slipping past, as they do -- the warm season is slowly releasing its grip on this part of the world.

Speaking of which: a few days back, autumn crept in. I don't mean a gentle transition, temperatures gradually sinking lower. I mean something a bit ruder, a big jolting change sneaking in under cover of night. Stepping out the door in the morning meant immediate immersion in cold, almost frigid air, an unfriendly breeze blowing. A shock to my still-sleepy system, my hands immediately fumbling at the zipper of my jacket in panicked reaction.

Not really that big a deal, I know -- just unexpected, taking more than just me by surprise. Suddenly cold-weather coats and jackets were everywhere, people grumbled about the fallen temperatures in local eateries.

And speaking of local joints: something I love -- moments of no real import passed in places like that. Banal moments, of no real note apart from their simple pleasure.

This morning: sitting in the bar at one of my morning haunts, sipping a cup of pretty decent espresso, working on a barrita con tomate (a small baguette, toasted, with olive oil and a kind of tomato salsa), reading the paper. The place less than half full, conversation happening around me. The radio playing in the background (Springsteen right then, "Brilliant Disguise") along with the sounds of the high-tech slot machines found in many local joints (tragaperras), a 50ish woman standing at one, its lights flashing, cycling through various sound clips. The sound of coins pouring into a tray, the woman apparently on a winning streak.

When I stepped outside, the streets were beginning to come alive, sunlight angling down, people walking, stopping at newsstands.

Nothing special. Normal. And so sweet.




Espaņa, te quiero.

rws 6:47 PM [+]

Comments:
You must be independently wealthy, no job to rush off to? I admire that.
 
Independently wealthy?? That sound you just heard was me falling off my chair, choking with laughter.
 
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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
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September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS


Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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