Shirts, beaches, and that irresistible commune vibe.

For a change of pace, on Tuesday I decided to do a little reading outside in the garden. When the doorbell rang at midday and I knew we weren’t expecting anyone, the only option was for it to be the postlady. And right I was! She was bringing me a handmade shirt from my mom. Gifts-with-no-reason for the win!

So, the only proper way to celebrate was to wear the shirt out to the beach. It’s been windy here, which means the waves are big (at least on one side of the island). R. and I took that as an opportunity to check out some new coastline and admire the smashing surf and get my first sunburn of the summer. Let’s not repeat that. (Conveniently, I also hit him up for lunch after at a place called Paupa. Small dishes, but very tasty goat cheese salads!)

R. was amazed by the waves.

Also exciting is that my Dutch friend is back! A little “Northern” sensibility in the south of Europe is enough to make me feel right at home. Plus, I’m going to have a new pilates buddy!

On a less-related note, in spite of the fact that R & Bro. decided they wanted less guests in the house this summer because of increased cost and inconvenience related to having extra feet walking around, there are eight people at the house right now. Sometimes, I feel like it’s something of a commune: two of the boys from Neverland escaped and set up post. For an international feel, they invited the American and German sigOs, a Dutch girl and a friend of hers from St. Maarten (who taught me how to say good night in Dutch, which sounds remarkably similar to slap-licker. Sounds like one of Gus when he’s in an aggressive dog-kiss mood), a Flamenco player from the South of Spain (who grew up in the renowned neighborhood “Tres Mil Viviendas”…not dissimilar from a Gypsy version of a city in a rap song), and the ultra-provincial plumber who can’t help but announcing what he’s doing like a sports commentator at a football game…”I’m going to drink some water. Should we do some laundry?…”

Anyhoo. It gets bizarre enough her to make me sit through a documentary on first-year teaching that took place in the suburbs of the Midwest just to feel über normal for 58 minutes.

That’s all for today. Just thought I’d try to keep it real for ya.


photo-97  ——–Here we are!————-










photo-99 photo-100

    Touring on the moto. Llucmassanes is a  beautiful little town!

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