FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Whilst looking for hints on how to increase traffic to my blog I discovered that if you click on the 'following blog' heading or whatever it is at the top of the page this will help. I have no idea how but tried it anyway and all I can say is that every single one of them was of two styles. Mums and their new babies or Christians of some form or another. It is astonishing and as one mum's blog said 'it's funny, sad, embarrassing and it's all there'. So I am in good company then. Any fear of a Muslim planet can be soothed if you check these web sites out. They just seem to go on for ever. Adoption from the Ukraine to 'teach our son about the love of Jesus'. Opening sentences from families who announce 'we are from Alabama'. I even checked out other blogs and the same thing happens, mums and Christians. Maybe it is a sign and so I tried it out. I prayed for something different and was answered, I ended up with a choice between Marxists or Unethical Eligibilty Criterion for Maharashi Taxi Drivers! (sic).

Living in Spain is as I have said before often like being in a Luis Bunuel film. There is something you want/desire and every attempt to get it is thwarted. Recent events have been trying to get a Hoover via Travel Miles and downloading Skype. I think I might have had luck with the Skype but I have slipt into the manana syndrome so won't know till.

After years of trial and error I think I may have found the hangover cure that suits me. Everyone has their version and my restorer now involves first a cup of coffee and something, if tolerated, to eat, say a nice piece of toast and butter, then a paracetemol and wash this down with a drink they have here called Aquarius which sportsmen and women drink to sort out their electrolytes. A little lie down helps too and then when you feel it kicking in it's time to get up and eat well and resume life with a vim and vigour you thought you would never have again a few hours earlier.

I was told a joke or two the other evening over dinner. A woman goes into a baker's and orders two 'funcionarios' which are two civil servants or 'pen pushers' as they are known in this house. The baker scolds by saying 'missus, I have told you already, they are called baguettes', baguettes being a little bread stick but also a 'funny' way of saying 'vago' which means lazy, like saying I've already told you woman, they are called little lazies'. Yes, I know, I feel the same but oh how they roared.

Lastly, I knew spring had arrived when I got a view of my first Hoopoe, a lovely looking bird who flew in front of me near a little village I am fond of called Bolea. It sat in a tree and tried to hide but I could clearly make out its crown of feathers. So on that note, maybe there is a God.