Some Things Are Easier Here - On Healthcare

Our little caboose has been struggling with a terrible cough for some time. As per usual, we tried to ride it out hoping that his God-given, healthy body would fight off the bugs. But, after 2.5 weeks of coughing all night, I gave in and stated that we were heading to the doctor - today - no excuses! Problem is, even though we have Spanish health insurance I have no idea how to use it. After a few hours on the Internet and phone, it was revealed to me that no doctor could fit him in because it was, yet another, National Holiday. So on the advice of a friend we headed to the 24-hour 'Urgencias'. Somehow I was thinking we were going to an urgent care clinic, not an ER, so when our GPS took us to the emergency room I nearly turned the car around. But that poor little boy was coughing and choking so in the back seat, so I pushed down the urge to avoid a sticky language situation and we herded the family in.

Side note: In Spain you have to pay for parking at medical facilities, even hospitals -- but luggage carts at the airport are free. In the US you pay for luggage carts but parking at most healthcare facilities (I've been to) is free. Not wrong, just different. Somehow though, I begrudged having to pay for parking when I had a sick three year old in tow. I think I'd rather pay for the luggage cart when I'm healthy.

Turns out, all the triage areas at the hospital are filled with coughing and feverish folks. No gun shot wounds, or broken bones to be found here. The place looked like a regular medical waiting room. The wait was a bit long due to the holiday but eventually we got a diagnosis - Bronchitis - and were on our way out (to pay for parking) and get prescriptions.

That first round of antibiotics wasn't potent enough to do the trick. Probably has something to do with the fact that two weeks ago I didn't realize a 'nevera' was Spanish for 'fridge'.  I admit I botched that round by leaving the antibiotics on the counter, and not in the fridge. Well, when you are busy mixing and shaking and translating kilos to lbs and calming a boy who hates medicine some things tend to slip your mind.

After 10 days, not much improvement, and the onset of a 2 a.m. ear ache, I woke with a renewed energy to tackle the "we need a doctor" situation. Thanks to a friend's recommendation I found one that accepted our insurance on the first try. They were so kind to put up with my 'muy malo español' for several minutes. But at one point I was told to wait and I knew they were trying to fetch someone whose English was better than my Spanish. I asked if they could get him in today and they offered, "Okay, can you come right now"? Of course I could!  After 20 minutes of the GPS taking us the most indirect route, we arrived at the location and found free street parking. Yes! Things were looking up.

The office building didn't have a number or the doctor's name on the door.  I was standing outside wondering if this was the right place when a kind mom suggested I go in, informing me it was the doctor's office. (How did she know?) We entered, it was small and very clean. Even better, the nice nurse-man I had talked to on the phone immediately knew it was me and ushered us straight back to the doctor. Apparently, I don't blend it so much. I had no appointment and there were others obviously waiting for their appointments in the waiting room, but we were swept right in.

We were taken back to an office/patient room where we were told to take a seat in front of desk of a pleasant, youngish women. She asked about our wee one's health history. She asked five questions (not five hundred) and took neat hand written notes on a half sheet of paper. It was only when she asked us to take him over to the table and began examining him that I realized this was the doctor. All the time I thought it was some assistant. Nice nurse-man remained with us the entirety of the visit comforting and genuinely trying to sooth my baby too.  The both practiced their rusty English with me and insisted it was their pleasure to do so. After the observations were completed we retreated back to her desk where she again neatly hand wrote the prescription for four different medications and the detailed instructions on how to administer them in English.

When I went to leave I asked if they needed my insurance card, realizing it was in Daddy's wallet after the previous hospital adventure. They said any kid's card would do. No copay. No showing of ID. No filling out those obnoxious multi-page forms. (You know the ones.)  I heartily thanked them (I could have kissed em) and headed around the couple of blocks up the street to the pharmacy.

I love these pharmacies! Here's why. It's simple and easy! You hand the piece of paper to the clerk who returns in an instant with all of the medications, puts them in a bag, I pay and leave. Grand total for all four medications -- € 22 ($30). No insurance needed - you don't need insurance for medications in Spain because it's already so cheap.  Then she handed me back my prescription. Guess we could go back for more ... ?

If you are a Mom or you've ever lived in the US you don't need me to belabor the differences between the US and Spanish ways of dealing with medical appointments and obtaining prescriptions. Let's just say I don't miss the long waits and piles of paper work.

Some Things Are Easier Here.

With the news that we only have to wait six more days for our possessions, the safe arrival of two big boxes bursting with Christmas presents from the Grands, and our new phones finally obtained from a  long wait in customs -- it feels too as if some things are getting easier. It's all Good news here in our 'casa' as we await the Celebration of the Best News ever, Christ's birth.

Merriest of Christmases to you and yours. You are well loved and missed from abroad.

Making Nice

Sometimes what you are looking for is not that hard to find. 

Admittedly, our landing in Spain has been a bit rocky. In fact, if I'm honest I'd say Spain and I just didn't like each other THAT much in the first months. She's slow, I'm efficient. She's complicated, I'm simple. She's multi-linguist, I'm a floundering Spanish student. She's cultural and mod, I'm a homemaker and secret wanna be homesteader. 

Yesterday marked tres meses en España. At last with our home stocked with basics and our routines established these last few weeks I've had enough breathing room to explore our neighborhood. 

Many of the other families from Benjamin Franklin International School live within walking distance of the school and the heart of Barcelona and English speakers. We live out of the city in a suburban, very Catalan area. We rely heavily on our car to get around a lot of the time. I've found myself envious of those able to be footloose and fancy free in the city. However, taking the time to check out what is just around the corner from our house has afforded me the perspective to realize we've got it pretty good out here in the 'country' too. While I still can't wait to check out the Picasso museum and tour the Cathedrals my heart is full and thankful for what is just around the corner. 

These pics are a collection from a few explorations last week. What I lack in photographic quality I make up for in quantity... or something like that. 

Big kids, posing for me. They were such troopers and didn't complain (much) about all the walking.

It's a shame this house on the left is abandoned. It could be so amazing.

Pretty, unique architecture greets us at every turn.

Spanish tend to enjoy their privacy, so getting a glimpse of a traditional style house is not always possible.

Wish these flood lights weren't blocking the view. This is a beautiful, dilapidated church 5 minutes from our house.

Pure energy.

A beautiful antique church stained glass window.

Beautiful wrought iron fences, picturesque stonework everywhere.

Peeking through the gate of a house being renovated. So pretty.

If old houses could talk, I wonder what this one would say. Why did they leave her behind? 

The kids love drawing with sticks in the sand at the parks.

I wish I could trade up my modern entry for this lovely gate.

This mountain peeking behind looks truly majestic on clear days.

Two old friends, leaning on on another.

Catching a glimpse of an abandoned building.

For this Oregon born girl, these houses make me stop in gasp! 

The weather here in late November is something like September in Seattle. Crisp. Highlight of the walk was collecting beautiful fall leaves and hearing my son thank Jesus aloud for them. 

Love the palm trees.

DH calls this one the watch tower. They have super high privacy fences but you can see the tower daunting above. Maybe that's where the guards stand ready with big guns? 

Closer to the mountain the houses start looking more rural. 

Still can't believe I live right next to these houses. 

Gorgeous path up to...

... the clock tower on this building.  Every day on my way home I see it and I've been dying to find out what it was. 

Turns out it's an old farm, that the owners had to let go and agreed to give to the city for farming. Later when the 'crisis' (recession) subsides they intend to renovate it for some community purpose. 

 

A lovely little vineyard. 

And huge garden.

Authentically rustic, complete with obsolete farm equipment and old window panes leaning beside the building. 

Major cactus bushes decorate the back of the buildings. 

The path returning. 

A little further up the opposite road I discovered a hiking path.

I admit the first time I came alone I was quite scared. There are wild boars (ugly ones) that live in these parts. I realized I didn't have any identification on me or a cell phone. Good thing I had my running shoes one because when I heard a rustle in the woods I was running! 

A vista on the way up. 

Although the way was steep it was a short ten minutes before my eyes were blessed with this sight. 

It's called La Salut (Chapel of Health),  I couldn't believe this was here the whole time and I never knew it! 

It is made up of some pre-Roman and tenth century pieces. It's undergone several name changes but it's existence as a parish is documented from the late 9th century. It now serves as a warm greeting at the top of the mountain for hikers, mountain bikers and picnickers. Apparently it's open on local holidays and events take place on the grounds.

The view of Barcelona while standing atop the benches outside the church. You can hear the faint hum of the city far away...

 Beautiful door, DH says the lock would be easy to pick, maybe we'll sneak in sometime. How can it be wrong to want to be in God's house and worship him?

Sweet window. 

Spanish sky. 

Now that I've seen a bit more of her natural side and not so much of the bureaucratic side Spain and I are getting along quite nicely. After all, I'm okay skipping the tourist sites and finding my own jewels. 

Just the Basics, Please?

I know myself well enough to know that moving abroad was going to rattle me a bit (okay, a bigger bit) but that in the end it would be good for me. Some things I like a lot include peace, harmony, control, order, and efficiency. I knew most of the aforementioned things would not be available for some time. Simply put, my expectations have lowered to the point where getting the basic needs of our brood met is satisfying.

(Side note, as I'm proofreading this I just realized that I have this lingering sense of American entitlement that tells me I deserve/ must have/ need Internet. Plenty of people in the world survive without it. It's just that I really don't want to ... especially since it's the only mode I can stay in communication with all the people I know and love in the States. In that same vein, in case some of you may be wondering why it seems I’ve fallen off of the face of the earth. Here’s a little glimpse as to why the process of getting up and running here is Spain is going at a glacially slow speed – read imperceptible movement.)

I did quite a bit of research before coming to Spain and knew that getting Internet and phone can be a major challenge for expats. For this reason I began early on prodding our lovely relocation company with the request to begin working on getting us wired. Since we don’t possess the ever important NIE (think "green card") and only have our American passports to show for ourselves Relocations España had their work cut out for them. Finally, a company was located that promised us the moon – contracted cell service, land-line phone, and Internet. When we arrived at their storefront our hopes of cell service were dashed. Our translator quickly informed us that  it would be impossible to get a cell contract. They did agree to Internet and land-line phone. They said it would take 10-15 days.  We were happy with that. But after 30 days of waiting they sent word that the wiring at our house was incompatible with their systems and they would not be able to provide service. Really, it took a month to figure that out? The American in me wants to stamp my foot and say, unacceptable! Or at least to call someone and complain about the lack of customer service... but I wouldn't be able to say it in Spanish anyway. Also, customer service is not available here. You think I exaggerate!

Back to the drawing board. After more waiting, some surveying of other expats in our neighborhood and with the help of google translate we found a company that could provide service, but the question remained – it they would without our NIEs. We passed the job onto our dutiful relocation agent, David, who went to bat for us. I told him it was absolutely imperative that mi marido have Internet in order to keep a roof over our heads. His work without Iinternet is like a pilot without a plane. After another week of waiting, hoping (and David even promising to sign up for the sevice in his own name if need be)  we were all rewarded with the sweet news that telecom company Moviestar would provide us with service and that they would be out in 5 days to install the appropriate wiring or connect or whatever it is those magic men do.

DH and I couldn’t believe it. We were finally going to have a phone and internet and maybe even a bit of Spanish TV to pass the time…. The morning came and I excitedly announced to the moms at the bus stop that today was a big day “we’re getting furntiture delivered, Internet installed and I’m picking up or new car tonight”. My news was greeted with a more tempered enthusiasm than I'd hoped. We'll keep our cell phones'  handy (in case I have need emergency translation assistance - they are good to me like that) and good luck. I was feeling a growing sense of doom already. 

The long awaited hour came and... went. At 10 a.m. I called David, to confirm the time was indeed scheduled for 9 a.m. He relayed that the tech had been lost but should be arriving shortly. Finally the blessed door buzzed. Tech man shows his ID, I let him in the gate and he immediately begins a tyraid of sorts asking about the end of the line and where is this and that. Having not built the house and only understanding about half of his Spanish I asked him to hold on while I phoned the owner. Owner and now grumpy tech man chat feverishly for several minutes. Tech rambles a bit more and leaves. 20 minutes later Tech 1 returns with Tech 2 asking where owner is. I call owner, he says he is on his way (I missed that somehow, big surprise). Techs both combing house looking for outlet of wiring of some kind I assume. Owner and handy man arrive... Fast forward 20 minutes.

I had this moment standing in my living room of realizing how totally ridiculous my life had become.  I was literally chuckling as four men are wandering about trying to figure out how and where to do something to make internet and phone happen in our home. Three of them were are on their phones all in the same room talking very loudly. Two more men from IKEA are installing a storage system into the wall in said room. They are using drills and making an obscene amount of noise in otherwise empty of furniture and very echoey room. At the same time I'm translating the Spanish that is being spoken to me by owner and handy man I'm also attempting to think and speak in Spanish to the IKEA men that I want the wall unit equally spaced between two walls but not entirely mounted to the wall so we can still access the outlets behind them. All the while in the same room, our lovely new canary is happily and loudly singing his little heart out.  It was a lot like a zoo except it didn't smell as bad. 

End of story, need electrician to come and rewire part of the house for fibre optic lines, as opposed to traditional copper wire. He doesn't know when he can fit it in his calendar, some time next week. After that we can call and schedule an appointment for the unhappy techs to pay us another visit. I have no expectations that they will accomplish much on that second visit either. This is the way of Spain. The reason we love it - slow pace of life, and the reason we hate it - slow pace of life.

"Patience can persuade a prince, and soft speech can break bones." Pro 25:15

*Just for your kicks - no word on when a phone line can be installed, or tv or gas for heat. The owner calls every single day to ask when they will install the gas. I hear it can take six months of longer. Who needs heat, or internet or phone anyway. Can you imagine this ever happening stateside? Like, never. People would revolt and take their business elsewhere, slander the company's name all over the review sites online and they would be out of business. Problem here is that most of these utility companies are monopolies. They know you will wait because they are the only once who got what I need.

**I know blogs aren't even half the fun w/o pictures. I promise to make up for it when my new fibre Internet is installed and my blazing fast connection can handle downloading pictures. 

The Good News and the Bad News

Today was good and bad, bad and good. Actually, that's a typical Spain day for me - ride the coaster. I woke up had time to read my Bible and prepare a healthy breakfast for the kids, in my own home -  very good. The kids have been feeling sick with colds and no amount of dragging/coaxing was getting them off their mattresses - bad. In just two hours I had a team of people arriving at the house for various repairs and cleaning projects, I needed those kids off to school - worse.  Since they would miss the bus after snoozing a couple of extra hours DH agreed to drive them into school for me - good.  Don't worry they popped up just fine, I didn't actually force them to school.

Fast forward several hours. 3/4 of the days's repair and cleaning projects completed - good (for Spain). But it means I'll be housebound again tomorrow since they need to come back - ugh, bad since I've got things to do like shop for groceries!

DH calls and says he's got good news, our household goods shipment is finally on it's way. And bad news, it won't arrive until December 4th. Bad, very very bad. Can you say, crestfallen? That's me. How can I possibly survive two more months, 8 more weeks, 55 more days without our precious belongings? What could possibly take so long? Apparently, they are putting our goods on the slow slow boat.

We've been in our new house about a week now and I've been sketching drawings and planning where our furniture will go. I've only allowed myself to purchase items we don't already have or absolutely can't live without thinking our shipment is 2 weeks out, not 2 months.

When you are a stay at home mum, your home really is your workplace and a big big part of your world. So realizing I wouldn't have the items I need to make our home felt pretty bad. After I stomped upstairs, plopped on my bed and half heartedly picked up a book ironically titled "What to do After the Boxes are Unpacked" (ironic since my boxes won't be unpacked for a long long time) I realized something. The fact is, I was given the gift of time today. Time to catch my breath, time to get on the floor and play with my babes (literally since there isn't anything to sit on), to read to my 9 year old until she falls asleep (I don't have to rush downstairs and clean anything up since the little we brought with us is it's neatly tucked into our closets) time to go for a walk and wonder what's behind all those high brick walls my neighbors have, time to read books (since we have no tv, and internet is spotty), time to be quiet (since my phone is too expensive to use for just chatting) time to BE, A human being, instead of a human doing...

This is a simple lesson, but one I'm positive God himself has set before me with His perfect timing. I'm out of excuses: not much to clean, organize or distract.  So looks like it's me and the fam spending some serious QT for the next 55 days. And as I  dutifully repeat to myself when I feel my blood pressure rising about some thing being sullied, "people are more important than things".  So while the bad news is I don't have my things, the good news is I do have my cherished husband and precious three babies and time to honestly appreciate them.


Colossians 1:10-12

New International Version (NIV)

¹⁰ so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, ¹¹ being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, ¹² and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you^[a] to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.

Mama always said

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." - Anais Nin

Note: Pictures will be added when I find that cord thingy that connects the camera to my computer...

My Mama always said if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. It's been two weeks since I've posted, besides the two I just put up (they were drafts). I haven't had much nice to say, and I was beginning to fear that I was using my blog as a big whine fest. Seriously, who wants to read about a girl fussing about how hard it is to move abroad. The fact remains, it's hard work. Let's just be clear for those of you who may have some misconceptions about the romantic notion of moving to Europe - this ain't no vacation. At least not, yet.

We've been here 33 days now, and I figure it's just about time to get back into writing. Here's the facts to catch you up. We've moved hotels, and have spent the last two weeks at a lovely four star hotel in the heart of Sant Cugat (the little town outside of Barcelona that we've fallen in love with and will live in). We are in very short walking distance of groceries, shops, restaurants, and parks. We've got two adjoining rooms which means kids in one and adultos in the other which is a massive improvement!

Our air freight arrived in perfect shape on Asher's birthday which was fantastic considering it had his birthday presents within. It was a huge celebration by all, sort of like Christmas, probably less meaningful that Jesus's birthday, but definitely more exciting than any Christmas morning we've ever had. We'd been waiting for these items for two weeks and you'd think it had been two years what with all the squeals of delight!

The kids are adjusted to and loving school. Their teachers are perfectly suited for each of them. Big A's love's art and has worked in museums all over the world, Medium A's is a highly skilled seasoned teacher who knows how to handle a boy with some passion. Both are American, which is an added bonus.

Our house is nearly finished! We've been anxiously waiting for it and visiting it several times a week. The interior is completely done and the exterior has some final touches and it too will be completed. We've ordered a few furnishings to get us by until our container comes (which is who knows when) and they are set to be delivered tomorrow. Now, you see why I've finally caught my breath enough to sit down and write a bit. Sweet relief of having a place of our own to lay my babes heads down at night is on the way...

I haven't had any time to sit down and study Spanish with my Rosetta program, or apply for language schools, HOWever I'm understanding more and more every day. I wish I could say the same for my speech... I don't think I'm sounding any better or forming correct sentences. But I am able to get the idea across. Enough to compare mattresses with the saleswomen, ask questions and order them for delivery all by myself! Well, hubs was there for moral support. I was walking around tonight and realized that I was so relaxed I was actually comprehending surrounding conversation bits without even trying. let's just say the light bulb is seriously considering turning on in my brain. Wouldn't that be grand?

My driving has improved, I don't grip the wheel quite as tightly, don't always need the GPS, and some days go by without even a honk, the odd look or hand flail. However, it's still intimidating driving in heart of Barcelona... I'd rather take the train. You always get there on time when you take public transport. Pretty much never when we drive.

I've seen a bit of Barcelona beauty. Our new Spanish friends Ester and her novio, Jose Luiz were kind enough to take us to Plaza Espana and show off some of the pretties. And we're going to Spanish speaking church again this weekend. The kids were begging us to return before we'd even left last week. God has richly blessed us indeed.

Default : Deny

Many of you know mi marido (DH) works with computer security. One of the main things he tries to teach his clients to protect their networks with the principal of "default deny". In other words block access to your valuable data unless someone has an express need for having it. According to DH not too many companies employ this principal which why there is a success brood of hackers about, an incidentally why my DH is highly employable.

Apparently the Spanish government has imbued this principle to it's citizens in every form of bureauracy  from retail grunts to immigration lawyers. This is especially true if you are a foreigner from a non European Union country. We're told Spain takes second in worst bureaucratic bull, surpassed only by Italy.

By default Spain as a country doesn't trust anyone. (The opinions expressed here are solely ours and most likely highly ignorant, you are warned - locals please don't bother to correct me, at the time of posting, I'm over it all anyway). Consider the following examples (and also see below the reason for my lack there of posts these previous weeks).

Drivers License:  By default they don't trust that you've learned to drive in another country and have been doing so for 18 years. In six months from the time I arrived my US driver's will no longer be valid. If I am found driving with it after that time my car would be immediately impounded. (Information obtained by actual real people's experiences). I cannot simply convert my license. Instead I am obligated to take a 40 hour driving course which consists of two consecutive weekends all day Saturday and Sunday. I suspect I will be taking these classes with other unfortunate expatriates and Spanish teenagers. After such time if deemed capable I can sign up to take the written test (in English, but more difficult because it's a mix of American, British and Australian English with odd phrasing) and the driving test (given in Spanish only). If I pass the written I can take the driving. I hear I should expect to 'suffer' during this process and most likely take the tests several times before passing. At such a time as I am given my Spanish license I will have a big "L" on it for learner (or loser depending). This L states that I am a new driver and am not allowed to drive over 80 km (50 MPH). Um, I'll get run over on the freeway at that slow of speed. I would have that L limitation on my license for three years until I gained my experience. However, if I want to convert my US driving experience to Spain I can do so. It only requires an obscene amount of patience, a lawyer fluent in English and Spanish and money to burn.

Banks: When you open account you have to open special non resident account which is only valid for six months. This special type of account wins you higher bank fees for everything including obscene fees to transfer my own money from the US into my own account. We've figured out that being a non resident here pretty much means you get your pocketbook gouged at every turn. After six month's time our account will automatically be closed and we'll have to sit through the 2 hour process to open another resident account. It was literally two hours. I mean it. Can you imagine the outrage if it took you that long to complete any service in the US?

Grocery Stores: There is only one way in and out of the grocery store. The bathrooms are located on the outer side behind the cash registers and you are strictly prohibited from going out to use them and coming back in. Some stores even seal bags from other retailers (seal a meal style) to prohibit you from stealing.

Cell Phone: We can't get a contracted cell phones. That means, up no iPhone! Don't even get me started on this one. Let's just say it's sort of like my boyfriend (iPhone) dumped me and I still can't stop thinking about him (except, it's a her, cuz she's purple and she helped me do everything like um navigate, organize my contacts, surf the net while away from my computer). Now it's just me and my ordinary cheapo - basic - ordinary - not smart - can't even text, well hardly - foreigner pay as you go phone. I'd have to have an NIE which is like my green card and I can't get that until the VISAs are settled and a truck load more paper work is shuffled.

Hotels: They require photo copies of front and back of your credit cards, copies of your passport, and charge you every few days to just make sure you are good for it. We went rounds with the hotel manager about how giving photo copies of your credit card and signature is like a major security no go. It was that or sleep in the car.

The whole thing is kind of ironic since Barcelona is the number one city in the world for pickpocketing/ purse snatching. They don't trust us, yet I'm the one wearing my cross body purse in front and holding on to it!

Odd images from our first week

This post is well, three weeks overdue. The first week was a bit overwhelming, taking pictures was definitely down the list of priorities after finding something to eat, and managing our way about, um anywhere. However,  a few things stuck my fancy and I somehow finagled my camera out and captured them. 

A tiny terrace, as most are in the city. I love that people fill the space with fruit trees. I can't wait to plant a lemon tree in our garden. 

My first 'grocery run' at afore mentioned 7 eleven style store - we've come to adore the 'jamon' flavored potato chips. You won't find cheese flavored snacks here, but ham oh, yes!

This contraption, was indicative of our first lodging at the 'apart hotel'. There was no way this thing was going to dry my hair in time for me to collect retirement. Oh, wait I won't have any. Oh well. 

Nothing too exciting for those that have been to Europe. But. now instead of figuring out what state cars are from, we quiz the kids on what country from whence they've come. 

No such thing as a trash cute in apartments, folks have to walk their garbage and mandatory recycling down the street to the nearest eye sore bins. They perfume the air a bit, so they are easy to find. Our house has a cute little door in the outer wall of the gate / fence that you put garbage into on one side and the garbage man opens on the other and takes away the stuff. We still have to hoof it down the street to recycle... Um, "Asher, I've got something fun for you to do". 

This is everywhere. The Catalan's want free and many of us non natives just want to understand them (literally, why can't they just speak Castellano / Spanish?)

Carrer is the Catalan word for Calle which is the Spanish word for street. This is how I have to decipher 80 % of the language, twice! 

Enjoying a cup of gazpacho, some bread and wine with my love while we watch the kids exhaust themselves in the adjacent play structure. 

Something beautiful in our hotel garden. I dreamed about going down there to journal, but chores and obligations pressed in and time ran out before we left. 

My future place of pensiveness... a lovely tree in our upper back garden just waiting for the sweet little table and chairs to arrive so we can finally, sit together. 

Just an example of the GORGEOUS houses surrounding the kid's school just on the outskirts of Barcelona in Sarria. I'm dying for some of that lovely purple flowering foliage to grace our home. It's everywhere and SO pretty.