lunes, 29 de agosto de 2011

An ending

This weekend my family and I went to Michigan to bury my grandfather. Grandpa Jim died at age 85 a few weeks ago and this past weekend was the burial of his ashes. It was both sad to say goodbye to him and wonderful to see family that I have not seen for many, many years.

My grandpa wasn't religious. This complicates matters. When my maternal grandma passed away, the Lutheran Church in Durango that she helped found, named, and participated stepped in immediately, taking over during a time of pain and grieving for my mother and her siblings. My paternal grandpa was religious in his upbringing and only occassionally went to the Unitarian church in Albuquerque with my dad and family to hear the beautiful music and teach the philosophically and ethical based Sunday school they offered. This only on Sundays where the powder in Santa Fe or Taos did not beckon them out skiing.

The ceremony, therefore, was a collection of people gathered in the beautiful cemetery by a slow-flowing river, telling stories, listening to his favorite classical music, reading poems and short stories he loved, and telling his off-color jokes. We cried and laughed.

Grandpa Jim.


When packing for the funeral, I frantically came out to tell my mom I had nothing black to wear and we should get something before I go.

My dad, reading the newspaper in the big, overstuffed chair in our living room, glass of fine Spanish Rioja next to him, suddenly piped up from deep between the sighing pieces of newsprint: "You don't need anything black. It's grandpa's burial and he doesn't want everyone wearing black. We're not mourning, we're going to be celebrating his life." He returned to the news.

My mom and I were silent for a second and then looked at each other. I sat down, mom turned back to the local news on the TV, spewing something about Hurricane Irene.

It was Grandpa Jim, summed up perfectly.

domingo, 21 de agosto de 2011

33 ounces of awesome

A salute to 'merica.

To (white, upper-middle-class slightly-food-snobby suburban) America's readily available domestic and international beer selection.


Seasonal brews.



Microbrews.

 


India Pale Ale.



Mix-and-match make your own six packs.


Of thee I sing.

lunes, 15 de agosto de 2011

Can Spain Conquer America with Sandwiches?

Can Spain Conquer America with Sandwiches?

So 100 Montaditos, a Spanish sandwich chain, wants to build 4,000 restaurants in the US. Think they'll be successful?

Yes. Yes they can. You know how? 


Make a huge jar of beer cost $1.44. Every day.

Conquering? That'd be blitzkrieg.

martes, 9 de agosto de 2011

What do Spanish kids do at summer camp?

Spanish things.



Like dressing shopping carts up as bulls and charging some 7 year olds.


Yes. This is for real.

viernes, 5 de agosto de 2011

USA! USA!

I got home yesterday to Florida for six weeks of quality time with the family and intense visa processing. Upon touchdown in New York I got a big smack of America in the face. Big. A visual representation of returning home:
An obsession with manicures and time management.

E pluribus, unum.

Good things!

In case I wanted to get my electronics on the go.

A quick several hundred dollars on a DS.

Mandatory CNN.

These aren't pay phones, it's straight business.

Wifi! And phishing!

Rolos, peanut butter M&Ms, Hershey's, Werther's Original.

Mobile recharge unit.

Every product you will never need. In case you
get the urge to consume midflight.

HP!
It's cool but weird being back. Full frontal America is a lot, even if it's your country. But it is wonderfully my country.

miércoles, 3 de agosto de 2011

The Bee Fountain

At Gredos we are knee deep in nature. Beautiful lake, stars out at night, bugs and sticks and mud. They also keep bees out back of the property. The bee boxes are farther out, so there isn't any risk of the kids tripping over them. However, they do send some emissaries out in the noon heat for a cool drink of water. The kids, also, go out for cool drinks of water. Which is a problem:

Drink at your own risk. Photo courtesy of Sarah!
These water fountains from hell the monastery also are triggers sensitive. Open 0.05 centimeters and you get a nice cool spout of water. Open 0.06 and get geysers shooting into the air soaking all around.

So when I am assigned on patio duty, where we have to watch the kids so they don't explode or something, I get nervous. There are also certain days where I'm in no mood for kids horsing around. That day is any day that ends in Y. In English.

Please observe before my arrival:


 And after:


This is how I spent my month at camp.