My apartment is located 8 kilometers from the town of Begur. There are two stop signs between here and there. All of the stop signs here say STOP – apparently, the international designation. But here, at least, it seems to be just a suggestion. Unless someone is in sight coming towards the intersection, I’ve never seen anyone stop at these signs. They don’t even pretend. They may slow slightly, but almost imperceptibly. You can tell someone is a tourist if they actually stop.

On my way home the other night around dusk, I saw a slinky animal hauling ass into the woods – not a squirrel (in almost 7 years here I have never seen a squirrel), it was too long-bodied. After a quick google search, I determined it must have been a European mink! It says they live in northern Spain (check) and they are slinky. And I saw another one a few days later. The photos above are from the Internet, not photos I took myself.

I recently moved my binoculars from near the balcony where I check out the boats, to the kitchen because I can see the Russian’s balcony from my kitchen window. It makes me feel like Mrs. Kravitz on Bewitched watching the strange comings and goings at Darrin and Samantha’s house, but there WERE strange things happening at the Stephens’ home!! Ditto here. I don’t think Dimitri (I think that may be his name, and if not, that’s what I’m going to call him for now) is a warlock, but I do think he might be a spy.

I spent Sant Jordi Day (Catalan Valentine’s Day) in Platje d’Aro, a beach town near here. I’ve included a link to a prior post about the holiday. There were tables set up along the main street where women were sitting making lace. Lots of women were making lots of lace. I don’t think it had any special connection to Sant Jordi Day, but it was interesting to see. The other photo is SJ Day in Palafrugell with all the rose and book stalls set up in the street. The yellow and red striped cloths covering the tables represent the Catalan flag.

I also took a fantastic walk recently with a Meet-up group along a part of the Camí de Ronda. The Camí is a 43-kilometer long footpath along the Costa Brava coast previously used by smugglers, sailors, and fishermen. I’m told that the portion we walked near the town of S’Agaró is the most beautiful part of the Camí.

Oddly, I met up with my parents in S’Agaro at Christmas the year I was in college in Madrid, a long, long time ago. We stayed at an elegant hotel frequented at one time by the rich and famous: Ava Gardner and her bullfighter lover, Peter Sellers and Britt Eckland, Sean Connery, John Wayne, and others. My mother always knew about the places that were “in” or cool. But, it was an odd circumstance when I met my family there as I only went because of a communication mix-up with my then-boyfriend (no cell phones). So I had a mixture of emotions entering the hotel. And then suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the desire to call my mother and tell her where I was. She passed away in 2014. What a gal!

From time to time, I like to do a jigsaw puzzle. The translation of jigsaw puzzle in Spanish is “rompecabezas,” literally “head-breaker” and “trencaclosques ” in Catalan, “skull-breaker.” I do occasionally feel that the puzzle is trying to break my head! During the Pandemic, I was bored enough to discover online jigsaw puzzles. There is more than one site, but I used this one:  https://www.jigsawplanet.com. I specialized in well known monuments and places of interest in Spain. It was a somewhat different endeavor, but equally frustrating, even though there were usually only 200 – 300 pieces. 

For a real puzzle, I usually choose a 1,000 piece one as a puzzle with only 500 pieces just isn’t challenging enough and doesn’t take that long. If you only devote an hour or so a day to the puzzle at hand, it can take a long time (at least for me) to finish! That’s what happened to me last week when I had the puzzle 80% (?) complete and invited friends over for onion soup. We needed to eat on the dining room table where the puzzle was laid out. What to do? I segregated all of the as-yet unused pieces into baggies with similar colors together and put the placemats on top of the puzzle. Guests were required to eat gingerly so as not to disturb my work!

February is the month that I’m required to have my car inspected every two years. This year, I had two broken headlights (not the big ones, but a tiny one and another horizontal one in the front). Peugeot wanted 1300€ for new ones. I was in the States for my treatments for six weeks during February and March, and upon my return, my mechanic had located some used ones and installed them. I only drove around illegally for a couple of weeks trying to avoid the Police who often hang out at the roundabouts waiting for lawbreakers!

Taking an ITV (technical inspection) test in Spain can be quite a daunting experience for foreigners, especially if it’s your first time. I wrote extensively about my experience at the car inspection facility in a prior post when they discovered that my car was previously equipped for a handicapped person and they didn’t pass me on the first round.  https://susiessenioryearabroadhome.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=1612&action=edit. It was a headache! This one went much smoother – not as dramatic for me or for them having to deal with a woman who didn’t know technical terms like car horn or turn indicator in Spanish or Catalan!

I commented before that the process is extremely thorough and serious here. It’s quite an operation with multiple mechanics inspecting my car – not a flunky at Jiffy Lube! And two years ago in Texas, the Governor signed a bill into law which eliminates regular mandatory vehicle safety inspections for noncommercial vehicles. Hmmm.  Safety first?

I can’t believe it, but I still have not learned!! Cassie (and maybe Cam, but certainly Cassie) ate a half a jar of peanut butter. I usually have one food that I am addicted to at a time (Snackwells, wasabi peas, marcona almonds, etc.). Now it’s peanut butter. I brought a jar of my favorite variety from the States (the Kroger brand) with me this trip but I ate it all, so I’ve been trying various brands I’ve found in grocery stores here. So far, I’ve only liked one brand. So, I had three extra jars that I don’t like in a bag to take to a friend next week when we have Catalan class, and the bag was on a chair. I went out to dinner with a friend from Begur, came home, and I didn’t notice anything “off” until the morning when I heard Cam slurping under the dining room table. That’s when I discovered the half-eaten jar. I contacted the vet immediately. Luckily, it was the jar of peanut butter from the health food store which has no additives, just peanuts. I think she (Cassie, I’m sure) knocked or dragged the bag out of the chair, cracking the lid, which enabled her to get the jar open. OMG! Whew!

And there have been two more cars at the Russian’s house. For a few days there was a labradoodle and then a couple of days later there was a labrador, no doodle. I’m making a folder on my computer with the photos of all the cars. If anything should happen to me…hack into my computer and show the photos to the Guardia Civil (federal police) or Interpol.

I was very excited to return to Catalunya last week for many reasons, amongst them that I had tickets to a show called “Bona Gent” (“Good People” in English). The show is more or less a stage version or extension of a Catalan television program called “El Foraster” (“The Stranger” in English). In the TV show, the television presenter, Quim Masferrer, visits small towns in Catalunya where he spends 48 hours talking with residents and learning all about the town. Then, with many of the townspeople in attendance in a local auditorium, he presents and comments on what he’s learned and talks with members of the audience. I would describe him as a Jimmy Fallon-type entertainer – lots of energy, enthusiasm, and curiosity. I’ve only watched a few episodes, but it’s hard not to like him and be drawn into the action.

When I found out that the stage show was coming to Palamòs, a town near me, I bought tickets. I was really looking forward to it. I thought it would be an immersion into Catalan culture that would be fun and informative for me. I knew I would not understand everything, and I was praying I wouldn’t be one of the people in the audience that he interviewed (!!), but I thought it would make a great story for my blog – especially if I was interviewed and made a total fool of myself on TV!! Unfortunately, my radiation treatments and delayed return to Begur meant that I missed the show. Maybe I’ll have another opportunity. He looks goofy in this picture, and he is, but it’s all in good fun!

Just watch a few minutes of the show and tell me it doesn’t look like fun!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHIuAPaIKG0

This week I picked up my renewed residency card, but I’m in a bit of trouble about my future residency status. I’ll explain. My first step in the residency process was to apply at the Spanish Consulate in the US for a temporary visa in Spain. I applied for a “non-lucrative visa,” meaning I can support myself financially. I had to prove that I carry local, private Spanish health insurance, I have no communicable disease, and I’m not a threat according to an FBI background check. Once approved, the next step was to visit one of the national police stations in Spain to show my paperwork and pick up my residency card, which was good for one year. It could be renewed for two years twice, both times by preparing and providing the same documents updated. I just received my second two-year card. After this period of temporary residency is completed, I can make an application for five-year permanent residency. It’s actually more complicated than it sounds. Clear instructions are difficult to find online, and very little help is provided by the bureaucrats. The national police are scary, unhelpful, and wear guns. I think they’re hired based on their ability to intimidate. Last time I was there, an officer literally yelled at me for not filling out the form correctly. In Spanish it’s very unnerving, but I held my own!

I’ve made other mistakes along the way, such as letting my first visa expire without renewing it timely. I thought at the time that the process was so burdensome I’d just visit Spain for three months at a time as any tourist can. Boy that was a big mistake, because the first three months I was here, the Pandemic struck. I’m not going into all that again and how I had to find a dual national to help me get the dogs home (quite a few blog posts chronicle that nightmare!), but I had to start the whole process over when I decided three months at a time wouldn’t work for me. I needed to be here for longer stretches. I needed to be here on a more permanent basis.

My second mistake was when I lost my residency card. I had to go to the local Police station to make an official report, then take that paper to the National Police to get another piece of paper that would hopefully allow me to exit and enter Spain. When I made my most recent trip, no one asked me diddly-squat, so it was cool and now I have the renewed card.

My latest mistake, it turns out, was bigger. Just like I don’t read the instructions for any new appliance or constructing a piece of furniture from IKEA, I didn’t read the fine print somewhere in the materials that says in order to apply for the five-year permanent residency, you cannot have been out of Spain for more than 300 days during the five previous years of residency. Whoops!! When I discovered this, I was already at the limit of the 300 days and I was embarking on my cancer tour in Houston. Even if I could claim a medical exception (which I was told by an immigration lawyer might be possible), I’m not willing to forego visits to the US to see my children and grandchildren for the next two years in order to stop the counting of the 300 days! I’ve been told that I may be able to apply for a “second chance” visa, but who knows… As Scarlett said in Gone with the Wind, tomorrow is another day. I can be here legally until December 2026. I’ll worry about it next year. Maybe I’ll get married in order to get my “green card”!!! HA HA HA…that would be the absolute LAST resort!

Just to keep you up to date, the Russian is still at it – different cars in and out of the garage. A new one with Spanish plates and the Hungarian one that’s been here before.

I am very much looking forward to the first day of Spring — March 20, 2025! That is the day I fly back to Europe from America after having completed my course of radiation therapy. Spring is a time of rebirth and renewal of life – a renaissance. That is what I am planning to have – my own renaissance. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, someone told me that I would emerge a different person on the other side. I suppose that is true to some extent because I do have a new outlook.

For many years my primary goal has been to stay busy. That way I was able to avoid thinking of anything unpleasant, disappointing, or stressful in my life, and at the same time expand my horizons through experiences and friendships. But now, after this diagnosis and time alone to think and just “be,” I realize that in the future, more than living life to the fullest, I want to live life to the best.

It may be hard to resist my nature to aspire to the highest level of social butterfly status, but that is my objective. I don’t want to sink into a rocking chair on a porch somewhere, but rather I want to be more selective in my activities and in applying boundaries – an activity in which I’ve rarely participated. My intentions are both an act of self-preservation and an attempt to enjoy every moment, even when I’m alone. I plan to return to my exercise activities and language classes and work to be the healthiest I can be physically and mentally!!

I’m not going to drop off the radar…I hope to continue to experience Catalan life in a way that will be of interest to my friends and readers…

After 12 sessions of low-dose radiation, I rang the bell as is a custom when one finishes cancer treatment. I actually sailed through the treatments and experienced no negative effects. As scans revealed no additional cancer in other parts of my body, I am confident that I will be declared to be in remission when follow-up exams are performed in August. I hope this phase of my life is over, never to return, but that is probably a foolish notion. My oncologist explained that my particular type of cancer is a chronic one, and so may return to my stomach, where it was discovered, or to another part of my body. I plan to live with vigilance, but without anxiety. I feel great at the moment!

I’ve always felt lucky – I had great parents, I have good friends, and I was blessed with extraordinarily wonderful children (and recently, grandchildren). Now, I must add to this list the good fortune I had to have been diagnosed so early and to have received such superb treatment from doctors and staff at Houston Methodist Hospital, my former employer. It’s not for nothing they were ranked on US News and World Report’s Honor Roll of top U.S. hospitals! I’m so grateful!!

Now, som-hi! as they say in Catalan…Let’s go!

I’ve said it before, but it’s odd to feel so completely at home in two places, and two places that are so different from one another. I think the key is that I have people I love in both of them. So I’m always happy to be at each – Catalunya and Texas.

It was very special to celebrate Christmas and New Year’s with my family, especially now with the three little ones (aged 1, 2, and 3!). We had Christmas (dinner and presents) on Christmas Eve as is the tradition with my son’s family. In Galveston with all of my family present, we had our traditional fondue dinner (both cheese and beef) on New Year’s Eve, and pigs in a blanket and mimosas for breakfast on New Year’s Day, followed by a lunch of black-eyed peas (for luck) with cornbread and sausages.

It was wonderful all the way around, although chaotic in a small house with five adults, three toddlers, and a large dog. There was lots of activity, cooking, opening of presents, and most of all, for me, joy. After such a wonderful visit I was blissfully happy and at the same time ecstatic about my return to Catalunya.

I’ve already shared the following personal “announcement”with some of you, but if you haven’t heard, the day I was returning to Spain, on a layover at the Atlanta airport, I received news from my gastroenterologist that the suspect small growth in my stomach he discovered during an endoscopy was cancerous – that hated word. I’m told that this type of cancer is one of the “good” kinds. I don’t say this here in order to garner sympathy, but just as a statement and an explanation of why I am returning to the US this next week and may not write again for a while. I am scheduled for further tests and treatment as soon as I arrive. Trying to keep this diagnosis private would not be natural for me. I’ve always been open about my life and this is just one more experience I’m sharing with my friends. There is no need-to-know basis. All my peeps need to know.

If you’re medically-minded or just curious, the type of cancer is called gastric MALT (mucosa-assisted lymphoid tissue) lymphoma and it’s a rare subtype of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It’s a slow-growing lymphoma that typically affects people 65 and older. There are treatments that put it into remission, but the condition can come back. Early on, it may not cause noticeable symptoms (it hasn’t). In some cases, people receive a MALT lymphoma diagnosis while undergoing tests for unrelated medical issues (yes, that’s what happened to me). People may live for many years with MALT lymphoma (I hope so!), even if the condition recurs after treatment. The prognosis seems to be good.

I’m trying to continue my life as if nothing has changed, but it has, and I haven’t quite gotten my bearings. I feel little topsy turvy. I know some of you have experienced this type of challenge.

On a happier note, I had a proud moment in the supermarket recently. I placed the placard on the checkout counter between my products and those of the man behind me to separate them. One side of the placard had an advertisement and the other side said “Caixa Tancada” – meaning this checkout lane is closed in Catalan. Because the placard facing him said “Caixa Tancada,” I turned it around so he would not think the lane was closed. He indicated that the placard should go back the other way. I pointed out to him the word “tancada” (closed). He asked me if I spoke Catalan and I said I speak some. He asked if I was English and I replied that I was American. He called his wife over and exclaimed loudly “here is an American who speaks Catalan!!!” Made my day!!!

So, hang in there with me…I hope I’m back in the saddle again soon…I plan to return to Spain with a vengeance for languages – Spanish, Catalan, and French; exercise – walking, tai chi, yoga, pilates; eating well and drinking less (a little less).

I’ll try to post an update(s) as I learn more. Stay tuned. Hearts to all! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Going in with a smile!

An update on my visa nightmare in a future episode…

I’m off to the U.S. for a month of seeing friends, doctors’ appointments, and loads of family time with the kiddos. But first, I had a stopover in Barcelona for the night to enjoy some of my favorite tapas, shopping at the big Corte Ingles, and holiday lights! I did the same last year and it was a very special way for me to head out to America.

I read in someone else’s blog about a fantastic holiday light show at the old Hospital of Sant Pau in Barcelona. I have seen the hospital from the outside before and I knew it was designed by Lluís Domènech I Montaner, an important architect of Art Nouveau in Catalunya. But I discovered that it is not just one hospital building. There are a total of 27 buildings over 9 blocks. The outlier buildings were hospitals designed to hold various specialties. The lights on the beautiful buildings were spectacular! A true wonderland!

Shamefully, I have to report that I left my carry-on bag unzipped on the bed in my guest room where I was packing two nights before leaving. I forgot that there were some chocolate turrón bars in it. She (Cassie) of course found it. It looked like this (below) and she ate the WHOLE thing and she only weighs 11 pounds, tops. The vet said the dosage could have been fatal. Luckily, I discovered the evidence within a couple of hours of ingestion and the Vet was able to give her a vomit-inducing injection to get the chocolate out of her. There were about 10 piles of dark brown goo that came out of her. I won’t include the photo, but it looked really bad. The Vet said he thought they had gotten to her in time, but he suggested she stay overnight. I was happy to have her be under observation! All this of course took place around midnight, so I got little sleep that night. She is thankfully back to normal, no thanks to my forgetfulness. I would never have forgiven myself if she had not recovered.

I hope everyone has a lovely, merry Christmas time and a very happy new year…cheers to 2025!!!

Not all of you know this, but I have a true passion for mushrooms – not the eating of them, though I do like eating them – but I’m fascinated by their colors, textures, and shapes. Different types can grow right next to each other. I like finding them and taking pictures of them and seeing photos of them taken by others. They just blow my mind!

You can imagine I was in absolute heaven last weekend when I attended the annual mushroom festival in a small town near me. There was an exhibit of about one hundred varieties of mushrooms found in this area of Catalunya. They were marked as edible, inedible, toxic, and VERY toxic. This is the time of year Catalans go to the woods with their baskets to collect edible (hopefully) mushrooms. Check out the colors!

Some of the names of the mushrooms below are descriptive, such as “devil’s egg,” “soft wolf fart,” “donkey’s ear,” “narrow rat’s foot,” and “pine cauliflower”…

And my favorite name is velvety relative killer (as in parent, sibling, etc.), below. The ones to the right look like little men!

Educational posters at the exhibit show which mushrooms to avoid and which are most poisonous.

The festival itself was a typical Catalan party with food and wine and music and dancing. It was THE BEST day ever! Sublime.

The band played “Country Roads” (a John Denver song) in Catalan…and then of course, there was the traditional Catalan dance, the Sardana, where everyone makes a big circle (it was a really big circle) and dances and sings. Oh, and check out this old hippie (on the bottom)!

I know this has been a long post but this day was so fun and so much the epitome of why I love being here. I actually cried a couple of times just because I was so happy. And because I’m such a mushroom nerd, I bought a book about mushrooms in Catalunya and the author signed it!

I found out later that I appeared three times in a local news report on the festivities. Once I was caught running past the camera trying not to be interviewed!

The night before the mushroom festival (it was a weekend of culture!), I attended my second Carmen Amaya festival in Begur celebrating a famous female flamenco dancer who lived her final years here. This was a “jazz” flamenco group with a keyboard and drums, which is not traditional, but very fun!

Reporting from Sant Sadurní de l’Heura…

I’m sure all of you have read about and seen horrific pictures of the recent flooding in Valencia. The loss of life and the immense efforts necessary for the clean-up in the aftermath of the storm are heartbreaking and overwhelming. This type of climate event is called a “DANA” – a Spanish acronym for a high-altitude isolated depression episode (whatever that means!). The DANA which hit the area around Valencia was the deadliest in modern Spanish history and the most catastrophic flood-related event in Europe in decades.

But, the real story for the people of Valencia is the incredibly slow and inadequate response of their government. The public safety alarm which goes out to all residents via their mobile devices did not sound until 8:00 p.m., after the storm had already reached catastrophic proportions. And recently it was made public that the President of the State of Valencia, Carlos Mazón, on the afternoon the city was flooding was having a three-hour lunch with a female journalist (I don’t know if there is any importance to her gender, but just saying) supposedly to discuss the possibility of her taking over the State’s television channel. Mazón was two hours late for a meeting where the state of the emergency was being discussed, and so was late in approving the emergency notification.

It was also reported that Spain’s military emergency unit (UME), which can be deployed by the central government, was on standby the morning of the storm ready to assist in rescue efforts. Protocol, however, dictates that the regional government has to request any such support. That responsibility fell to Mazón, who at first declined the offers of assistance from the UME because he said the rains were ending. There are plenty of recriminations to go around regarding who is at fault. There have been protests and calls for Mazón to step down.

The people of Valencia are very angry. The King and Queen of Spain who arrived to offer the government’s support and convey condolences, were pelted with mud. Over 130,000 people protested in the city’s streets this past weekend. Over 200 people have died and there are still 80 people missing. Seven people died in an underground garage that was completely filled with water at a mall.

In the absence of a meaningful government response, farmers with tractors and workers with brooms took to the streets to search for victims and begin the massive clean-up. Volunteers have arrived from all over. I read that some French soldiers arrived in Valencia ahead of the Spanish soldiers. In at least one instance, a human chain of about fifty people carried water from a pool in the center of the town to the main street, where they dumped it to break up the mud. There were incredible acts of charity throughout the area.

The veterinary clinic here where I take my dogs was taking donations for pets. I took some dog and cat food on one of the first days. Later that week, there was quite a lot collected! It doesn’t look like that much, but small towns and groups of people and individuals all over Spain are contributing to the cause.

In other news, my car broke down on the freeway last week on my way to Girona train station to pick up a friend. All of the dashboard lights were flashing and the car declared in Spanish (its native language) that it was experiencing an epic fail and was going to shut itself off. Luckily, I was able to coast to the shoulder, and luckily I was near a friend’s house who came to assist and give moral support and ultimately drive me to Girona! It was scary! The car is still not fixed after a week…

I did a(nother) stupid thing. Since last summer, when renters were in my apartment, three of the six wine glasses went missing and I wanted to replace them. They looked like they came from Ikea, so I ordered three glasses. They came in a huge box with three BOXES of six wine glasses. I now have 21 wine glasses! I guess I need to have a party!

And I made a cake for the first time in years. I’m not a baker, but it came out pretty well! Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting… Cheers!

“Love Among the Ruins” is the title of a poem, a novel, an album, and a movie. The title came to mind because last week the Begur International Film Fest was held here beneath the one thousand-year old castle in ruins. And I love movies! A red carpet was laid out on the cobblestone walkway between the main plaza and the old Casino building where movies are held. Although I’ve seen advertisements for the film festival in past years, I’d never attended. I went this year on opening night. The theatre was packed with locals. The mayor spoke, the organizer of the festival spoke, as well as the director of a documentary film about a man from the village who was known as the Photographer of Begur. He chronicled in photos Elizabeth Taylor’s stay in Begur during the course of making the movie “Suddenly Last Summer” in the 1950’s. All of the speeches and the documentary were in Catalan. Then came TWO additional short films (each about 30 minutes in length), in Catalan, before they finally got to the feature film, “The Miracle Club,” which was in English. But by that time, my friend (who spoke no Catalan) and I were exhausted and left. It kind of took the fun out of it, but hey, I participated in a local activity!

I girded myself for what might await me at the closing of the Film festival, and with good reason. Fifth graders at two area elementary schools made some “creative” films. Besides sitting through those, we sat through the introduction of each of the students from both schools – some two dozen kids. Small town life! But it was worth it. The movie that closed the festival, “Tramuntana,” tells the story of my town, Begur, in days gone by through the eyes of some of its elderly residents. It was a beautiful film and made me cry. If you have any interest, here is the trailer for the movie.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0xOLrWf5V4&t=204s

During the festival, the castle was lit up in red!

I bring up the ruins also because I recently visited some ruins in Empuriès, about 30 minutes’ drive north from my house. The remains of one of Spain’s earliest cities prove that it was a thriving market town with places of worship, salt factories, irrigation, art, palaces for the wealthy, and stone dwellings for the poor. Greek traders were sailing around this area as early as the seventh century BC before they established a settlement a century later and took advantage of trading routes with inhabitants of the peninsula. The Greek/Roman ruins at Empuries were considered to be the gateway to the Iberian Peninsula for the classical cultures and is the only archaeological site in the Iberian Peninsula where the remains of a Greek city coexist with those from a Roman city.

The Greeks called the city Emporium, meaning “market,” and it was an ancient port city that thrived for some 300 years. By 195 BC, the Romans were building their own city adjacent to the Greeks’ Emporium. They renamed the site Emporiae, and for roughly 100 years it was occupied until the more accessible ports at Tarragona and Barcelona led the Romans to abandon it. The stunning location backdrop to the city was the sparkling blue Mediterranean.

The Empuries ruins were discovered in 1908 and excavations are still ongoing. Only 25% of the large site has been excavated to date. The most renowned feature of the ruins are the beautiful roman mosaics floors you can see above.

A crazy thing happened to me last weekend. I was trapped in my apartment. The door wouldn’t open. The lock, which is somewhat medieval, has a metal bar that goes into the ceiling and down into the floor. When I turned the key, the part in the ceiling came down, but the part in the floor did not come up. My landlady talked me through dismantling the whole thing. Tasks like that are not really in my wheelhouse, but I successfully removed the lock. It was the secondary lock, so I’m perfectly safe without it until they get the replacement part, but it was a little scary not being able to get out. I suggested to my neighbor, who was trying unsuccessfully to unlock it from the outside, that I lower the dogs down in a bag from the balcony. They’d been waiting, mystified, for a couple of hours to go out for their morning pee and poop. He declined to take part in that I Love Lucy plan.