ID:4 and a bit of Orgullo

SATURDAY wake-up to the light taps of clanking in the kitchen, metal fork on thick glassware filled with something thick being mixed. That's fine cause it's about time to rise anyway. Walk through narrow sunfilled hall and enter la cocina to find Natalia facing away. Only one thing could be happening. It's the day of the last Aussie barbie, and Natalia's prepping her Blue Ribbon Guapamole.

Fuencarral Styleyes

First Weekend in July...

Last weekend in Madrid. Been out of my place since the end of June, living like a king on a couch in Tribunal with glorious hosts, gregarious gatherings, and gradual preparations. Right now I'm on the couch with my computer in my lap and my bags semi-packed around the room as the sideways evening glow fills the room and a languid breeze carries me back to the weekend that began the summer...

FRIDAY: Darkness fell, I don't know when or why. Somehow it was night and time to go meet my oldest Madridleña friend for to commence festivities.

SlowSummerMadrid

I'M TRYING HARD not to take it for granted.

Yet as I wake to look out the window at what feels like the 100th immaculately blue, sun-filled sky, I find myself having to make a conscious effort to appreciate every second of this. My efforts are, of course, stifled by both virtue of my residence here and the heat that accompanies the unfiltered sun. Sleeping sin A/C is not really sleeping, and waking up is more like rising to your feet after climbing a mountain. And anything becomes commonplace when it's a daily occurrence.

Nonetheless, this is what summers are dreamt of being like. The deep, clear cerulean blue affirms life above the streets and trees and has everyone smiling. Or sleeping in the shade.