Living in this village is like being famous or how I imagine it would be if everything you do, wear or say comes under scrutiny. At the moment I am minus photographers but the gangs of gypsies and muslims I battle with to get out of my door of a morning are a refreshing alternative. Yesterday I passed Mercedes and astounded myself by saying hello. She wasn't too happy with this and gave me a mouthful. I thought I might tell her at tomorrow's community meeting that if this is a competition to see who can make the most noise, she will win. I also want to ask the gestor if she wouldn't mind letting the neighbours know that it isn't very becoming to toss various bits of shit out the window willy nilly as well. Should be interesting. Henderson is adamant that she, Mercedes won't be there but I am not so sure but any sarcasm or witticisms will all be in vain so I might just agree with everything she says. 'Yes, I know, I am MALA and have a certain amount of VERGUENZA'. Another neighbour Isabel has said she will go as she would like to close off her terrace but needs permission. She asked me kindly if I would vote for her to be able to do this and I almost wept with relief that I have one normal neighbour.
Apart from being stalked, blasphemed and accused of heinous crimes I have found the time to attend a friend's exhibition where we were expecting the presence of the newish mayor Luis Felipe. I was rather worried when H said he would tag along as he hasn't 'introduced' himself to this mayor yet and when we arrived and found out the old chieftain wasn't there it was at least a crumb of comfort. The exhibition is about three cities, ours, Olot and Tournefeuille and the connections we have with each other and it kept H bemused for about an hour especially when he found some earth and rocks from the three towns lying on the floor waiting to be kicked or stepped on and maybe that's why there wasn't any free booze or cake.
I was informed yesterday that the moon was full and at its closest to the earth in a long time so I felt the need to celebrate. We found ourselves in Bar Rugaca and then Herve where we were greeted by drunks singing. It's why most nations have national anthems, so you have something to sing when you are pissed. These blokes looked like they had been looking after sheep all week and had been let out by their wives to what H calls Las Vegas. Later in another bar, Juan Sebastian, I think I saw what could have been the wives. You can always tell when folk have been 'let out', it's something in the way they move.
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