Quick weekend update

So we’ve passed a relatively happy week here. The kids seem to be adjusting to their school: Nora is actively trying to speak Spanish in full sentences; to our great surprise, Seth has gone from screaming "I don't want to go!" to taking a shine to after-school sports and swimming; Nathan got a glowing report from his teacher (who insisted, to our complete puzzlement, that he is quite talkative in class). We found a kick-butt park yesterday in north Alcobendas (they actually had, among other things, a kid-sized ant farm) and a good pizza place nearby. Other than the slow-motion self-immolation of the Red Sox, life is good.

Just a few random comments from me (Heather) to catch you all up:

Ham: It is possible that from Jon’s last post you might have underestimated the amount of ham in the local grocery store. To get a sense for his, imagine the meat aisle in the typical U.S. grocery store. There’s one aisle (half-aisle) laid against the back of the store, and bacon takes up a few feet, ham takes up a few feet, then hamburger, steak, and chicken take up the rest. It’s maybe 15-20 yards of meat all told.

In our Spanish grocery store, here’s the situation:

· Bacon has one side of an aisle to itself

· Across from bacon, there’s a half-aisle devoted to what I call ham-bits – processed ham of all kinds, chopped ham, salami, chorizo, etc. This is my favorite aisle.

· Next aisle over – more ham. This time, however, it’s sandwich meat ham, mixed in with some turkey (ham flavored turkey lunch meat, that is). Why there’s a need for pale square ham sandwich meat here, I do not know, as the real shavings are easy to come by and very tasty.

· Next aisle over from that – “other” pork products + rabbit and chicken. In a tiny corner, there is some sad-looking (and odd-tasting) hamburger. Other pork products include pigs’ feet and ears, all bundled up nicely for easy sale.

· Lining the back of the store, as Jon mentioned, are whole hamhocks.

In total, it’s probably 60+ yards of meat – and that’s separate from the fish section, which we’ll catch you up on some other time (think giant dead toothy grinning fish at eye-level with your toddler).

The model U.N. People who knew me in high school might remember that I briefly belonged to the “model U.N.” club. It wasn’t a good fit. I don’t much care about international relations, am not a good debater, and didn’t do well on field trips (although I have maintained a lifelong curiosity about Burkino Faso).

Ironically, 25 years later, it turns out I should have invested more in those skills. Our complex is a little U.N.: Norway, France, Great Britain, Spain, the U.S. The kids from these countries have formed what we call the “Model U.N.” in the complex – starting at about 5 PM, the place is awash in children skating, cycling, scootering, and playing hide and seek, cards, and padel (a game related to tennis). We Americans free-ride off the parenting norms in Europe, essentially shoving our big kids out the door after school and then calling them in for dinner at 7:30. On weekends, the revelry starts at 2:30 and lasts until sundown. When Seth joins in, he is more often than not “adopted” by a sweet French or British girl, leaving Mommie to only read her kindle, relax in the sun, and play amateur sociologist as she watches the kids try to communicate rules/ norms and form international treaties with one another in broken Spanish. As one of my FB friends said, “The best playdates are the ones with no parents present.”

Tomorrow: Some adventures in getting from here to there.