Mornings are usually quiet. Lunchtime around 2 o'clock is the revival hour. At times, flavors of grilled sardines and green peppers float in the sultry air. Siesta follows lunch.
We bought a hammock yesterday at Gym's shop. Monchéri is about to set it up, while I’m writing this post. That is, he just made some lemonade and picked up a book while waiting to get into action....I would love to wind the clock back so that it would be sunday again.
Yesterday, at this precise time of 6 pm, we were wandering through the narrow streets in the village where I lived before. Its name is Restabal and I was telling Monchéri it sounds like the French words reste au bal, meaning stay at the ball, one of the reasons I like its name....
When I lived in Restabal, an old man intrigued me who lived right at the entrance of the village. Except during the cold and rainy days, he would sit under a tree facing his house, every morning and afternoon. He was still there yesterday. His hair was slightly whiter and neatly combed. He looked as "tranquilo" and serene as ever and it rejoiced me to see him in good form. Contrary to the other people in the village, he'd never uttered a proper "hola" to me but only acknowledged me with a faint nod. His contemplative behavior always subdued me and I often wondered what his thoughts could be.
The hammock is still not installed. Monchéri doesn’t have the right drill or bolts and had to go to the ferreteria. I pick up the book he left on the table. I like what I read:
Y el aire en mis pulmones
Ya es saber, ya es amor, ya es alegría
and the air in my lungs
is now wisdom, is now love, is now happiness
(from an antology by Spanish poet Jorge Guillen)
and by the time, I struggle to publish this post because Firefox crashes down and it takes ages to upload the photos, Monchéri comes back from the ferreteria. The hammock is half installed now but still the hooks are not strong enough...so I guess, it will have to be mañana...!
photos by your devoted blogging hostess