Still life
This week's challenge is Still Life.

Where's yours?

Bittersweet
Magic happens sometimes. At the beginning of this week i was offered something that looked a lot like the job of my dreams but, alas, i could not have it.

The phone rang. I got the information. I tried not to get excited, and i think i did a good job. I waited. I went to the interview. It was fun, i met fascinating people and i had a very good day. I loved them, they liked me. All i could hear was music. I was humming. I got some feedback. It sounded good. It sounded like music.

All along this short process, i was aware things could get a little nasty. Still -and i know it's hard to believe- i kept thinking that even if i didn't get the job, the entire adventure would be worthwile.

Yesterday, i learned i couldn't have it. I understood. You would have understood too. The music stopped. I panicked for a while. And then i listened out to a bittersweet melody coming from somewhere else. Magic happens sometimes.

Spooky countdown
We're not huge on Halloween in this part of the world but, like most anglosaxon traditions, it's slowly growing stronger. I do like it, i get a kick out of the gore dressing up, the howlings, the first true winter holiday, the little cardboard and plastic bats all over the place.

In the picture of this post you can see what a hairdressers' did to promote their Halloween spirit a few years ago in Chueca. Also, you can see more pictures i took of the so called gay neighbourhood in Madrid, back when i lived there.

Parts of the costume i'll be wearing to the Sunday party are ready. Are you all set too?

Dance it all out
It's raining.

It's been raining.

It will probably keep on raining.

I could hardly hear the radio in the car today, let alone see anything through the water curtains that surrounded the entire trip back and forth. It's good to be back home. It's good to go out in the rain when you know you'll be back home.

It looks like it's gonna be wet out for a while, and it's only Monday, so why don't we just dance the week away.

One, two... one, two, three...

Cold turkey
The first time i set my eyes on this dish i didn't think much of it. It was at a camping site in a small town in the Beauce area, on the first weekend i was spending with my host family in Canada. The meal was served in a plastic recipient and it looked pretty much like a bunch of fries and an unusual dressing.

Then the sumptous scent of the gravy hit my nostrils. It was love at first smell. The very famous Poutine (poo-teen) served all over the Québec region is my current favourite craving.

I know what you're thinking. It's just a piece of junk food anyway. And you are right. It's unhealthy, it's fried, it's extremely rich: It's delicious. Unlike the other stuff i discovered at a tender age (15), this invention has made an addict of me. The thing is, i haven't had a dose for a good decade and today, in the middle of the afternoon, i realized i was having my first poutine cold turkey.

Now that i find myself writing a four paragraph post on the subject of poutine (!), i wonder whether it's the food i crave, the places and people from that time, or do i simply miss being that age?

(*) Picture originally uploaded here.

One of the reasons i've been incredibly quiet these days, aside from the social and working commitments, is this site.

I can't stop sending invitations to join the albums, and i'm developping a sudden interest in digging into older pictures to put them together on the page. They're still betatesting the web and there are a few updates i'm really looking forward to but, in general, wow.

I thought i might share that with you, photo-addict boys and girls.

Fresh start
Beginning of the week, or almost, and it's time to keep going. Got married, went on a honeymoon, shared lots of stuff with friends and primarily enjoyed the entire process as much as i possibly could.

Now the summer is certainly gone for a good few months, the rain is tormenting my laundry and people look very comfortable in their wolly scarves and high boots. Winter is kicking in, so let's welcome yet another season.

There's some work coming in and our living room is beginning to look like a real office (wait, that didn't sound great at all). It's darker outside but cosier inside and the tv commercials are already suggesting perfumes and toys for xmas. I feel we're landing on normality after the waves, the sunshine, the crazy SWP organizing. I wonder why winter makes me feel so much at home.

Regular life means going out to watch a film with friends, having talkative dinners, trying to keep my own work schedule and cooking hot meals at least every two days. It also includes unusual events, such as home hunting at Escorial, looking forward to the Wednesday night local sitcom and having a much healthier life in general.

Fuerteventura excerpts

We've calculated that the moon needs another couple of days before becoming full. Full Honey Moon.

Two British women with a baby and a little girl chase their children with their eyes from their tiny white towels. They are both reading self-help books and one seems to be quitting smoking.

My stomach, open for business 24/7, shuts down automatically when i think of the buffet dinner waiting back at the hotel. The only think i enjoy about the German and British colonization of the island is that i can have a Full English Breakfast for 4.80€ whenever i want.

North of Fuerteventura is a magma of beaches and wind. There are stone forts, knee high and circular shaped, designed for the tourist to hide from the breezes and sunbathe. We instantly love them.

Inland, there are mountains. They form the island's backbone. There are no trees. Some people have to abandon the island because there are no trees anywhere. The mountains are pretty high but washed out and they remind me of the female body. The roads are long and simple, very much like a child's drawing.

There are goats all over the place, becoming the local symbol. We have lunch with a couple of them. They make some kick ass cheese.

We have also gone South. There are less waves down there. We've followed transparent fishes into their caves. Their colourless skin made me think of the two British women.

Honeymoon ingredients