Oh……. this would have been a great week to be in Spain. Rafael Nadal won Wimbledon. Spain whupped German culo in the World Cup semifinals. Sara, Iman’s older daughter, graduated from college. And Tosi, the little gray cat I dubbed the berenjena, had five little berenjenitas: two white and black, one gray just like Tosi, and two white and gray.
This last bit of news was the hardest to take. I’d watched that little gray belly get bigger and bigger over the weeks I lived in that house and hoped to see the kittens come into the world (a hard date to predict, since the mamacita kept the date of conception to herself). I’d learned the Spanish say “give birth” as “dar a luz” – give to light. When I got an email from Iman after I returned to Santa Fe saying the kittens came just that night after I left Granada for Madrid, I went into an irrational dizzy spell of nostalgia. Somehow that funny gray eggplant became a nexus of the affection we shared in that house.
Meanwhile here in Santa Fe, I have my beloved hubby, our own very unpregnant cat Misty, a beautiful garden in fits of mid-summer bloom…. as I’ve always said, Santa Fe is a great place to return to from travels. But not quite yet. I’m here and I’m there. I’m still sleepy at strange times. I’m writing emails in Spanish and answering phone calls in English. I said hola to a guy on the street when I was taking a walk.
Tonight we’re having a few friends over and I’m making a salmorejo (a thick cold soup made with tomato and stale bread, topped with hard boiled egg and/or Spanish ham) and sangria (from Rafa’s recipe, one of our teachers at Castila, but a lot like this one). Friends from here, foods from there. That might bring my head and heart together on this particular piece of the earth.