Well! We flew through the worst snow storm of all time, but made it to Europe, had a fabulous week, and lived to tell the tale! We are all jet-lagged at the moment. It's amazing, though, the amount of teaching you can do while your internal clock is entirely screwed up.
Spills made friends from all over, discovered the world's tiniest but most immaculately tiled cat door with the words "Casa Gato" on it, performed Sanjaya songs for a whole pile of bemused senior citizens, was proposed to by a retired British school teacher at the top of a mountain, walked the ramparts of her first real castle (in princess regalia), was knocked over by the Atlantic ocean, ate a lot of glorious Portuguese frozen goodies, made friends with every stray animal (and there were plenty), tried octopus, visited the site of Henry the Navigator's school, bartered with a street seller from Africa ("Make me your best offer, my dear!"), attended a real ancient Roman spa, and consumed a lot of yummy custard tarts.
Her marriage proposal took place at the end of a highly memorable lunch, during which she and the retired teacher in question (James) were in complete cahoots with each other, giggling away together shamelessly while their respective luncheon parties looked on and rolled their eyes. James was highly piqued when she turned him down with the explanation that she was going to marry Robbie.
James: "But does this Robbie fellow have any money?"
Spilly: [with energy] OH, YEAH!!!
James: But I haven't told you about my house in Manchester. Did you know it has fifteen rooms? And did you know my library has over ten thousand books in it? And did you know that I have three cars? Except that the Rolls is in the shop at the moment.
Spills: N-O spells NO.
James: Can he tell you jokes like I can? Does he know the name of every fish? Because I do. I know because the fish tell it to me. I go right up to the edge of the aquarium like this, and I put my face close, and I say, "What's your name?" And do you know what they all say?
Spills: [in a hushed tone] What?
James: They all say, "Bob."
Nothing he tried could sway her, but he did give us his card and ask that we come to stay with him in England. And then he slipped her a 5 Euro bill, as if to seal the deal. Amazing the doors that a Spills can open.
As for Mommy and Daddy, we had an excellent time sampling the cuisine of the region. I am a definite fan of sardine paste, olives, cheese, and chewy Portuguese bread. I also like vino branco, and can order white coffee with the best of them.
Showing posts with label Portugal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Portugal. Show all posts
Monday, March 17, 2008
Friday, March 7, 2008
The Snow Maker
Yep, another winter storm is headed our way. A weatherman called it "The Snow Maker" today. Up to 40 centimetres, potentially. Which would ordinarily delight me, as I could sit cozily inside my house with my family, drink hot chocolate, and say things like, "Wow, look at that snow! It's really coming down out there! Sure glad we're inside!"
Except that we are supposed to be flying to Portugal tomorrow. And we are certain to be delayed. The Weather Network is providing helpful tips to parents stranded at the airport with young children. That's a bad sign.
Spills' spirits refuse to be dampened, though. She has not stopped talking since she got up this morning. And we're not sure exactly when she got up. I was in the kitchen quietly humming "Twist and Shout" while making my lunch, quite sure she was fast asleep.
Me: Well, shake it up baby now
Unseen Echo on the Landing: [Very softly] Shake it up baby
Me: [surprised, but flexible] Twist and shout
Echo: [Gaining momentum] Twist and shout
Me: Come on come on come on come on baby now
Echo: [with gusto, dancing into view down the stairs resplendent in her red flannels] Come on baby, come on and WORK IT ON OUT! WORK IT ON OUT! WORK IT ON OU-OU-OU-OUT!!!!!!
....You get the idea. Man, it's going to be a long night tomorrow.
Except that we are supposed to be flying to Portugal tomorrow. And we are certain to be delayed. The Weather Network is providing helpful tips to parents stranded at the airport with young children. That's a bad sign.
Spills' spirits refuse to be dampened, though. She has not stopped talking since she got up this morning. And we're not sure exactly when she got up. I was in the kitchen quietly humming "Twist and Shout" while making my lunch, quite sure she was fast asleep.
Me: Well, shake it up baby now
Unseen Echo on the Landing: [Very softly] Shake it up baby
Me: [surprised, but flexible] Twist and shout
Echo: [Gaining momentum] Twist and shout
Me: Come on come on come on come on baby now
Echo: [with gusto, dancing into view down the stairs resplendent in her red flannels] Come on baby, come on and WORK IT ON OUT! WORK IT ON OUT! WORK IT ON OU-OU-OU-OUT!!!!!!
....You get the idea. Man, it's going to be a long night tomorrow.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Busy Day
Saturdays are supposed to be lazy days. This one started offensively early, though, when Spills climbed into our bed and said, "I'm going to make your hair look like a boy." (This consisted of scraping every strand of my hair behind the back of my head, so I looked like I was wearing the world's tightest bun. Attractive. Kind of painful.)
Once she had us up -- it didn't take as long as you'd think -- we wolfed down breakfast, started cleaning frantically, then threw on clothes and headed out to buy something that might resemble a decent lunch for my parents and brother, who would be arriving late morning. My brother, who lives in B.C., is here this week for a conference. We hardly ever see him, so having him for lunch today was a big deal.
Spilly knows him best as the guy who was here when she fell down the stairs. He didn't mean for it to happen, and he certainly didn't initiate it. She was about a year old. Nobody knew she could climb stairs, and nobody was watching at that particular split-second. (Bad us.)
No sooner was he in the door today, then she said severely, "Uncle David, do you remember when I fell down the stairs?"
"Yes, I do," he said.
"And what did you say?" This is Spills' favourite question at the moment.
"I said, 'Oh no, she's fallen down the stairs.'"
"And what did I say?"
"You said, 'Waaaaahhhhh.'"
We had a wonderful visit, all too short, policed by Spills. And after everyone was gone, we began the Fashion Show. We are off to Portugal (the Algarve) very soon for a one-week holiday, and Spills has been growing a surprising amount since the last time she wore shorts. So we tried everything on, discarding most of what we'd hoped would fit.
Then, we piled into the car and headed to the shopping mall to see what we could find for her. Much angst later, she has several suitable items, and I have new capri pants. Whee!
And this trip will come not a moment too soon. Yet another storm watch is in effect for our area. And here I was thinking that we'd gone almost a week without one, and wondering if someone was asleep at the controls. Apparently not.
Once she had us up -- it didn't take as long as you'd think -- we wolfed down breakfast, started cleaning frantically, then threw on clothes and headed out to buy something that might resemble a decent lunch for my parents and brother, who would be arriving late morning. My brother, who lives in B.C., is here this week for a conference. We hardly ever see him, so having him for lunch today was a big deal.
Spilly knows him best as the guy who was here when she fell down the stairs. He didn't mean for it to happen, and he certainly didn't initiate it. She was about a year old. Nobody knew she could climb stairs, and nobody was watching at that particular split-second. (Bad us.)
No sooner was he in the door today, then she said severely, "Uncle David, do you remember when I fell down the stairs?"
"Yes, I do," he said.
"And what did you say?" This is Spills' favourite question at the moment.
"I said, 'Oh no, she's fallen down the stairs.'"
"And what did I say?"
"You said, 'Waaaaahhhhh.'"
We had a wonderful visit, all too short, policed by Spills. And after everyone was gone, we began the Fashion Show. We are off to Portugal (the Algarve) very soon for a one-week holiday, and Spills has been growing a surprising amount since the last time she wore shorts. So we tried everything on, discarding most of what we'd hoped would fit.
Then, we piled into the car and headed to the shopping mall to see what we could find for her. Much angst later, she has several suitable items, and I have new capri pants. Whee!
And this trip will come not a moment too soon. Yet another storm watch is in effect for our area. And here I was thinking that we'd gone almost a week without one, and wondering if someone was asleep at the controls. Apparently not.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
