My raison d’être

I am a little bit beside myself. I’m pretty certain the Russian is gone. If you haven’t previously read about my Russian, see Suspicious Minds

What am I going to do now? Who am I going to watch, track, monitor, report on? There was a young couple in his place recently who had a car with French plates, but they’re gone now. In the past, the cars have come and gone and whatever people may have been in the house besides the Russian himself have kept a very low profile. The presumed French people were walking around the neighbourhood, not stealthily.The same bicycles are in the garage, but I suppose they could belong to the actual owner, if not the Russian, or maybe he just left them behind. Or maybe he’s coming back — but it’s been over a month.

It is interesting to me that both the Russian and his German neighbor next door left the area during the two and a half months I was in the States this past summer. I wonder if they realized I was getting too close. I guess I’ll never know uness his photo ends up on the front page of some newspaper. Damn. I feel like I’ve lost some of my raison d’être!! I rather fancied being a modern-day female Sherlock Holmes. Maybe it would be more accurate to aspire to be Jason Bourne or Jack Ryan, famous spy hunters!

One of the few con’s of living here is that I don’t have a clothes dryer. Many, if not most, people do not. It simply uses too much electricity and is expensive, so my landlords have not installed one. I don’t know where they could put it anyway as the washing machine takes up the whole closet where it resides. So I hope for sunny days!! The sun works well for clothes-drying in full summer. They dry pretty quickly and fully then, but the rest of the time it’s a challenge. When the sun is out on my balcony, I put them out on a rack. They start getting dry but if I leave them too long and the humidity rolls in, they get wetter again. Then I have to move the rack indoors and hope they will dry out more inside before I put them back out in the sunshine the next day. Then it happens again. All of my clothes these days are damp. I sometimes resort to putting them piece by piece on the radiator. This is probably dangerous and not the radiator’s best use, but radiator drying is all I can do unless I want to cart everything to the washateria. At least now there is a washateria in Begur! It’s actually very nice with large, efficient machines. Before it came to town, I had to drive 30 minutes to get to a washateria. It’s the small things!

Recently, my Catalan coffee buddy told me about a nearby festival that sounded pretty fascinating, La Carbonera. The people in the town of Forallac, every autumn go to the woods and assemble large mounds of wood and cover them with dirt. They set the logs on fire and allow the mounds to burn for two weeks under the dirt to create coal, in the very old-fashioned way. My friend told me that people go to observe the ritual and have picnics and camp and participate in the project. There are sooo many local festivals and customs. It fascinates me. I wish I had time to know them all!

La Carbonera

I jumped out of bed for a couple of really good sunrises last week:

Good luck, bad luck, no luck at all

“If it wasn’t for bad luck. You know, I wouldn’t have no luck at all” is a line from a song – Born Under a Bad Sign. Link to song is included. Great song.

I’ve always thought of myself as lucky. I’m an optimist. I’m positive. I’ve been spared a lot of pain experienced by others. I feel lucky that I had loving and supportive parents, that I was born a free woman in the United States, that I was given opportunities for a good education and rewarding employment. And I have the best children in the world. Sorry, but it’s true. For better or for worse, I’ve gotten most of the things I’ve ever really wanted.

Looking at my life through an objective lens, however, there have been some things…Shit seems to happen to me, small things, but they add up when looked at in their totality. Just in the past couple of years I’ve had the my car robbed; I’ve had all sorts of trouble with my car (s) – my Peugeot just got out of the shop AGAIN after it died on the highway: I’ve had so many faulty air conditioner(s); and I’m sure there’s more…Just saying that sometimes I look up and see that small cloud following me. But I just gotta keep going and smiling.

I recently received some more bad news, devastating news really. My beloved dog, Cassie, has a cancerous tumor in her kidney and metastases in her lungs and lymph nodes. She is not a candidate for surgery, but we are going to be treating her with a cancer medication used to shrink cancer cells. First me with my stomach cancer, now her – we’re a pair – a pair of tough, old broads. Cassie is 14, and I know it’s not curable, but I’m hopeful we can have a little more time together. She’s my girl.

Speaking of aging and death, have you heard of Maria Branya Morera? She was a Catalan woman who when she died last year at the age of 117, was the oldest human on earth. She was born in the U.S. to a family of Catalan origin who moved back to Spain when she was young. She made Barcelona her home and died in Olot, Spain, a town not far from where I live. She identified as Catalan, using the name “Super Catalan Grandma” on social media. 

Lots of medical professionals studied Maria before her death, trying to determine how she managed to live so long. Clearly, part of the reason was heredity – she was simply born an incredibly durable woman with a fantastic immune system. But one of the factors to which Maria herself attributed her long life was that she ate plain yogurt three times a day. Scientists have agreed that having a healthy, effective microbiome is definitely a booster for good overall health. She ate a certain brand of yogurt, Fageda. I read that its sales skyrocketed when this information about Maria became known. So I’ve started buying it too. I’m not sure if strawberry-flavored counts, but I can’t stomach (ha ha) the plain. It looks and tastes too much like milk. Horrors. And I’m not going to eat it three times a day. But maybe once a day with fresh strawberries will bring my life expectancy closer to 100!

Potato Chips Revisted

The array of available potato chips in Europe (and I assume around the world) is seemingly endless. Americans seem pretty satisfied with the regular ones plus sour cream and onion, barbecue, salt and vinegar, honey mustard, and a few others. I wrote about my potato chip taste test in my “Chips Ahoy” post (link included) a few years ago, and I’ve commented on a few other ones since then. A friend shared photos of some really crazy ones from Asia! My all-time favorite weird flavor is hamburger! I tasted the separate flavors of beef, onion, tomato, maybe pickle? It was surprisingly good!

On my way to Spain through France this September, I discovered some more luscious varieties, others when I was in London, and even more here that I hadn’t seen before! I haven’t tried them all, but I’ve listed the ones I did try in order of preference:

  • ketchup (#1)
  • grilled beef (#2)
  • camembert (#3)
  • yakitori (#4)
  • pepper roasted chorizo (#5)
  • bacon & cheese (#6)
  • pili pili
  • Paris mushroom
  • French fries and sauce (?)
  • pesto mozzarella
  • aioli
  • summer truffle
  • cheese and black truffle
  • curry sauce
  • blue cheese
  • mushroom
  • Tex Mex chicken
  • Thai beef
  • cheese naan
  • goat cheese with espelette peppers
  • tapenade
  • Sobrasada and honey (sobrasada is a raw, cured sausage made with ground pork, paprika, salt, and spices)  

I wish I could have bought and tasted them all, but my car was already packed tight and there was no room for bags of chips! I expected that bacon and cheese would be the winner, but it was pretty gross and the ketchup variety definitely won this round!

Toward the end of my journey to Begur, I spent a couple of nights in Sitges, a beach town just south of Barcelona. To my surprise, it was Bears Week. If you don’t know what it is, look it up. There was quite a party atmosphere in the streets. But I am glad I missed the partying at the nude beach!

When I got back to Barcelona from a jaunt to the UK, I discovered that my car, which I’d left in the airport garage, had been ransacked. This is the latest in my list of petty crimes experienced in Barcelona. (See my post “Crime and Punishment“). Everything was strewn on the seats and the floor that had been in the glove compartment, the console, and the door pockets. There was nothing of value and they didn’t even take my mini boxes of Werther’s caramels. But they took one thing – my car title!! I had been told not to leave it in the car, but I really thought it could be a problem only if the car was stolen, and I didn’t expect that to happen, especially with all its dings and dents. My immediate worry was that I would have to make a Police report, and I am scared of the police. I don’t have a driver’s license for one thing. Well, I have my international driver’s license, but supposedly after six months here you are supposed to get a Spanish license. I’ve heard it is expensive and difficult to pass, so I’ve been avoiding police as much as possible and gambling on not being caught. The police are often stopped at the side of the road by a roundabout – usually at least two or three of them and a couple of police cars. They pull people over, presumably for having expired registrations or maybe just looking funny, but I always hold my breath and so far I’ve always been waved on. When my registration was out of date (actually this happened a couple of times for perfectly good reasons), I would take another route if I saw them ahead.

I haven’t seen any evidence of my Russian neighbor/spy since my return. No movement of the window shades (closed) or cars on the street or in the garage. I don’t know if he’s moved or is just away. If he’s gone, I wonder if I blew his cover!! In addition, his next door neighbor, a German, is also gone and there is another family living in that house. I always expected that he and the Russian were colluding. The German told me he had a wife and a baby but I never saw them. Hmmm….

Cough, cough, hack, hack

I’ve had a bad cough plus congestion for a month! I’m VERY tired of coughing and blowing my nose. This has slightly coloured my usual excitement at arriving back in Begur. Hopefully, at some point soon, I will recover!! And on the pro´s and con´s list of USA vs Europe, Europe is winning in cough syrup. It tastes good!!

I always fly out of Paris non-stop to Houston every summer, and I leave my Peugeot 505 with a friend in France, so my return trip to Begur in September involves picking up my car and driving through France with the dogs, and sometimes my dog mule. I like to pick a different route each time. France never disappoints. This year included visits to Saumur (below below), Chambord (1), Rocamadour (3), La Roque Gageac (4), Saint Cirq Lapopie (5), and a repeat visit to Carcassonne because the snails (2) were soooo good last time!

The Mushroom Museum in Saumur which was billed as the largest in Europe, was a disappointment. I love to see colourful. mushrooms of all sizes, shapes, and textures. The ones below were interesting to see, but not as spectacular or numerous as I was expecting! The Mushroom Festival celebrating the mushrooms of Catalunya that I attended last year in a very small town near me, was far superior. Hope I can make it back there for it again this year.

I’m moved back in and I was excited to try the new air conditioner, but lo and behold, the weather has been just about perfect and there is no need. Too bad, right?

A bizarre thing happened to me. It’s one of the scariest and most frustrating aspects of old age – I can’t remember shit! A few years ago, I ordered a Revlon hairdryer that Is a brush dryer. I really like it and I ordered a second one in Spain that has the correct voltage and a European plug. I usually leave my Spanish hairdryer in Begur when I fly to the States because I have the other one with US voltage and an American plug in Galveston. This past summer I decided to bring my Spanish one with me when I left Spain because I was going to be spending time with my daughter and her family in St. Jean-de-Luz, France, and I wanted to look nice. When unpacking everything recently in Begur, I discovered that I had two hair dryers in my luggage – one European hairdryer and one American – both black and pink. The one I have and keep in Galveston is black and turquoise. Cue eerie music!!

How did I end up with three hairdryers? I know this isn’t a major international incident, but WTF? If I have stolen your hairdryer…if it is missing…please let me know!! Above is a photo of the “Extra” hairdryer.

Happy to be home!

Lucky Trip #7

The trip back to the US in July was challenging as usual, but this time I was accompanied by my daughter and her family, so there was the additional complication of traveling with two toddlers – my grandsons – plus the two dogs, stroller, luggage, and my backpack with the strap that broke at the last minute. Then add in the eight-hour delay at Charles de Gaulle airport! My eldest grandson took a little stroll with my dog Cam. Luckily, they didn’t get on the moving sidewalk!

A boy and a dog

I had two positive experiences in the midst of this. The gruff Air France ticketing agent actually told me my French was good (a total lie, but very appreciated). I thanked him for speaking French back to me because many times service personnel will reply in English. I’m sure it’s easier for them, but it robs me (the person trying to speak their language) of a useful learning experience and occasionally a feeling of accomplishment. The other bright spot was when the French border agent looked at my passport and told me in French that I looked much younger than my age and winked at me! That made my week!

We finally made it to Houston at midnight and had to spend the night at the airport hotel, making our return a day late. Maybe next summer’s trip will be easier. We’ll see. My daughter and I mutually agreed that we’d never travel together again on a transatlantic flight with our dogs and children.

The summer flew by – time spent with kids and grandkids and good friends. But I spent way too much time with medical professionals. The bottom line after various tests is that something other than cancer will probably kill me. My heart is showing some wear and tear, along with most of my other parts, but nothing dire or urgent. The cancer in my stomach is one-half its prior size. It’s unclear if it remains malignant and I won’t know until the next check-up in January. Living with uncertainty is difficult, but life is uncertain, isn’t it? I’ll probably die in a car wreck (you’ve seen my car?!) or falling down and hitting my head, which I accomplished once this summer – I had a bump on my head and scabs on my knees to prove it.

Throughout my life, I’ve been called variations of the name Susan and other sundry nicknames, including Dorsal and Shrimp, but by far my favorite one is Zsa Zsa. Of course it’s my favorite because that is what my three grandsons call me. I’ve explained before that I chose the name because it is the Hungarian version of Susan. But also, it’s so FUN! No Granny or grandma for me! And Zsa Zsa Gabor, the only other Zsa Zsa I am familiar with, is such a fabulous role model. She was a Hungarian actress, socialite, and former beauty queen. She was a star of movies and television and famously was married NINE times. Her ex-husbands included Conrad Hilton and the actor George Sanders. And she lived to be 99! My goal!

It’s been seven years since I started my adventure in Spain. This month is the beginning of my eighth year. That is hard to believe! The trip went pretty smoothly this time. No dogs lost! ! I’ve only just arrived on the other side this week and I haven’t made it down to Begur yet. I CAN’T WAIT!! My landlady surprised me when she let me know that she had installed air-conditioning in my apartment – something I NEVER imagined would ever happen!

Every year the road trip from France (where I leave my car with a friend) to Begur is interesting and different. This time I stopped at the Mushroom Museum in Saumur, France !!!! More about that in the next episode!

Lagniappe: I read this description in a real estate ad here – “There is a small storage room ideal for storage.”

Before I go…to the U.S.

My French tutor sent me a news article she thought might interest me. Of course she knows about my Russian neighbor because she reads my blog posts, and we have discussed him (in French, of course) many times. The article is based on a report by a Latvian intelligence service which includes a list of tips for spotting potential Russian agents within its borders. A practical guide like no other!

Besides being re-published by Le Parisien, the information was reported by the Associated Press and The Guardian. Latvia is a member of the European Union and NATO, but it is increasingly concerned with the threat from Russia, with which it shares a border of nearly 270 kilometers. The Baltic country is warning its citizens of the potential presence of spies sent by Moscow. Taking this information to heart, I have applied it to my Russian neighbor.

The first piece of advice given by Latvian intelligence is to monitor the suspicious person’s physical appearance. They say that a slovenly appearance and “insufficient hygiene” could be telltale signs of a clandestine saboteur. My Russian looks clean, although I haven’t gotten very close to him. Their second clue to spotting a Russian spy is to assess the agent’s behavior. Intelligence reports suggest an increase in “overly indiscreet conversations with locals, or equipment inconsistent with their claimed occupation.” I can’t speak to that, but I do know that his behavior is unusual, merely based on the comings and goings of the different cars, people, and dogs into and out of his house and garage. And the third clue is that the agent may sport a short, military-style haircut. BINGO!! My guy definitely has very close-cropped hair. The Latvians warn that Russian agents have recently improved their strategy by using disguises to make them harder to detect. “Their members may no longer visually correspond to the classic profile of a reconnaissance-sabotage group,” explains the report. They say if a Latvian citizen believes they have identified an agent, they should not intervene and should contact the police or the military, who are better qualified to act in cases of suspicion. I’m still monitoring…

But I do feel pretty justified now in my suspicions!!

I knew about the vessel above – I’ve seen them around. Apparently this simple olive oil receptacle found in virtually every Catalan kitchen, is considered an icon of Catalan design. The Marquina non-drip bottle (in Catalan: setrill antidegoteig de Marquina, in Spanish: aceitera antigoteo de Marquina) is traditionally a transparent and conical glass cruet designed to contain oil without dripping or dirtying, and was designed by a Catalan, Rafael Marquina, in 1961. The premise of the anti-drip-system bottle is that the little cone catches the drips and returns them to the reservoir in the bottle without leaving the bottle greasy or a spot on your table. Its success has led to countless copies of the design in metal and plastic as well as glass. I learned about them in my Catalan class along with other Catalan “inventions” such as the Chupa Chup. I recently tried the ever-popular Coca-Cola flavor, but they come in other fruitier flavors.

I was hoping to report on a fantastic celebration of St. John’s Day on June 23, also the summer solstice. I wrote about this day in an earlier post, “So Many Holidays.” https://susiessenioryearabroad.blog/2022/07/02/so-many-holidays/.
Begur’s celebration paled in comparison to the one I went to by accident, basically, a few years ago in Arties, a small town in the Pyrenees. It was still fun to be out amongst my fellow Begurencs. You can see the flames from the bonfire through the trees. Not a big crowd!

That’s all for now, folks. I leave for the U.S. from Paris on Tuesday, in keeping with my customary summer schedule. This time, besides visiting friends and family, there will be medical tests to check on the progress of my stomach cancer, or hopefully the lack thereof !

See you in September, unless something interesting happens! You never know!

A real gem

A few weeks ago, I went to a winetasting in Perelada, a small medieval town near Begur. The event included a visit to the museum in the adjacent castle before the visit to the winery. I was dreading the museum visit, but it turned out to be fascinating!! The castle dates back to the mid-thirteenth century and houses a library containing over 100,000 books, including one of the largest collections of the works of Cervantes in the world. There are also amazing collections of glass and ceramics.

But the most interesting thing to me, and possibly to those who like old cars, is that the most recent owners of the castle (they acquired it in 1923) also owned the Hispano Suiza car company. Almost immediately I remembered two instances of seeing these old cars on display under vastly different circumstances. In 2016, the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston hosted an exhibit of Art Nouveau automobiles from the 1920’s and 1930’s. The exhibit was exquisite and the cars were unique and modern for their time, and so beautiful.

Also, randomly, and I wrote about this in Costa del Sol Revisited, there was another Hispano Suiza vehicle in the permanent exhibit in Málaga at the Museum of Automobiles and Fashion, which I visited last year. The brand is known for its high-performance luxury cars and aircraft engines manufactured from 1904 to 1946. Hispano Suiza was recently revived in 2019 with the all-electric Carmen hypercar. The model sells for a mere $2.5 million.

The company’s emblem is a stylized stork. it pays tribute to a French fighter pilot who had a stork painted on his plane powered by a Hispano Suiza engine during World War I. His squadron was known as “Les Cigognes” (The Storks). But also, and it may be coincidental, there is a colony of about 30 stork couples that nest on the property. The family paid homage to the storks by creating its Cigonyes wines.

In addition to the museum, and the cars, the family hired architects to renovate the existing buildings on the property for use in its current enterprise of making high quality and experimental wines. It is definitely a unique destination.

To keep you up-to-date on my wildlife journal, I recently saw a fox one night on the road near Begur.

And in the grocery store, I saw something I thought interesting – they were selling celery by the stalk and sun-dried tomatoes in bulk. Maybe these things are not unusual, but you won’t find them in Kroger!

One of the best parts about living here is that I’m so close to other beautiful destinations, and discount airlines make travel fairly easy (is travel ever easy these days??). These photos are a sampling from my recent trip to Switzerland – land of glaciers (melting), clean air, and chocolate!!

Oh, we have your information…

I have to confess to a deep failing. I guess I have a little slightly immoral streak at times – primarily in minor ways, but it is contradictory to my even stronger sense of justice and standing up for what is right. People are complex, what can I say? I don’t need to go into all of the ways I bend the rules, but recently I hit a car and I didn’t hang around. It seemed like a pretty insignificant touching of cars, and I was in a hurry to go to dinner with my friends, who were waiting. I know, I know, I should have stayed, or at the very least left my number. But I didn’t. I did get into my friends’ car, leaving my white car behind next to his black car with a pale white stripe down the side. If I could turn back time, there are a lot of things I would do differently in my life, but definitely I would have left a note on this car.

While enjoying a pre-dinner Aperol Spritz and trying to forget about the incident, my cell phone rang. It was the local police. After determining that I was going to cooperate, that I admitted guilt, and that I would face up to my responsibilities, the policeman was pretty nice. We settled on my meeting with the vehicle’s owner the next day (afterall, I was at dinner!). One of my nightmare scenarios since moving to Spain has been that I would have an accident with a Spaniard/Catalan who would exit his vehicle and flail his arms and scream at me. I asked the policeman if the man whose car I hit was nice, and he said yes. What a relief. As we were about to hang up, I asked the policeman if he wanted my information. That’s when he said in a stern, yet condescending way, “Oh, we HAVE your information!” Yes, they would, I suppose, have it all from my car registration. Also, the Spanish have their ways. See one of my early posts, “They’re Watching Me!”

The next day, my Catalan neighbor accompanied me to meet the car owner. Thank God. I think it would have gone smoothly, regardless, but it was definitely the moral support I needed. The car owner was from Granada and we chit-chatted about Andalucía and it was all quite friendly. We got it handled pretty easily. Whew!

Since returning to Begur this Spring after my cancer treatments, I’ve felt that my life would be a little different, slightly slower. But it is also coinciding with the loss of a few friends for various reasons (not death!) – moving, etc. So I’ve joined a couple of new groups and I’m meeting new people. It is more of a renaissance than I had even contemplated. But, no matter what challenges or disappointments hurdle my way, I have this every day…

Ciao!

STOP (Estop as they say in Spanish)

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!

A real head-breaker

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.