Heather and Nora at the internet cafe

Today’s updates:

1) Sick children

2) The state of lettuce in Madrid.

3) Madrid is gorgeous.

On the sick children: Original Festering Mess is back to normal, mostly. There’s some burst blood vessels in one eye from throwing up so severely, but otherwise the child is back to sunniness and light. Hot Mess is still very hot (104), but we’re hoping this is the beginning of the end. And Junior Festering Mess is now in Stage 2 of that illness, running a 101 fever in addition to the pinkeye. This is all to say, Jon and I have not left the apartment at the same time in over 10 days, and it looks like it’s going to be another 5 before everyone’s on the mend. Thus you’re going to be hearing a lot about the rather mundane aspects of life in Madrid (i.e., the lettuce situation), as all we pretty much do is shop at the store, drink Fanta at the internet café, and swim with whomever is not sick. And play cards. Jon taught the big kids hearts, and they’ve been known to play as many as four hours straight.

On to lettuce. For those of you who know me (Heather), you know that I’m very attached to my salad at the end of the day. Sometimes it’s my only ruffage and certainly at least half of the “fruits and veggies” that the U.S. Surgeon General frequently urges upon me.

Lettuce is not so important for the Madrileños. I started off searching for lettuce in the giant K-Mart-like grocery store we’re near, and there amongst various shrines to peaches and tomatoes was…one very wilted, brown head of lettuce. I thought this might be just the K-Mart-ness of the store, but upon voyaging to shop at little green grocers, the story is much the same: mountains of tomatoes, peaches, melons, buckets of olives….and in the corner on the floor, a few browned heads of lettuce.

Confirmation of this was received when I searched in the store for salad dressing. Was it near the vinegar? No. Near the oil? No. Near the fresh veggies? No. Near the condiments? No. (Mind you that all these items are all in different parts of the store). Thinking that asking the local clerks for “ropa de ensalada” (clothing for salad) would result in only laughter, I returned home, consulted the dictionary (it's aderezo) and marched back to ask. The result? One tiny little packet of seasoning to add to oil and vinegar. In the whole store.

Finally, despite all the illnesses and the endless search for ruffage, Madrid is gorgeous! We love it here and are having a great time. Favorite activities = wandering through neighborhoods with non—sick children, who seem to have taken a holiday from whining for the special occasion.