Sunday 13th February 2022
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| The cake moment. |
Good morning all.
This has been a week to remember. Last Sunday just as I published my blog, Eladio came bearing sad news. His mother, Ernestina, had passed away aged 99 - just one month short of 100. She had not been well for quite some time and also caught Covid. I think she died of old age. Sadly, she died alone at her care home. That was possibly the most frustrating part. We were alone at home with our horrible squatter so for me to be able to accompany my husband we called Lucy. She was with us by noon which is when we set off. We drove to León the town where most of Eladio's family live. In Spain the custom is to bury or cremate the person who has passed away within 24 hours of death. That does not give much time for preparations. It can also be a hindrance for people coming from afar. For us it was a 3 hour journey which was made a bit longer when we stopped for lunch at a god forsaken roadside cafe. When we drive to Montrondo or to León we always stop at Palacio de Bornos in Rueda but that day it didn't seem right.
It is custom in Spain too for the deceased to be taken to a funeral parlour (tanatorio in Spanish). They are soulless, gloomy and dismal places. People come to pay their respects and to see the coffin with the body either covered or not covered, normally surrounded by many wreaths. I hate the tanatorios and I hate the wreaths for what they symbolise. In the UK, at least, it is more common for a funeral to take place at a church followed by a wake with food and drink to celebrate the departed person's life. There is no such thing in Spain which makes the whole affair soulless. My sister-in-law who was in Montrondo, kept us posted as to the proceedings.
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| RIP Ernestina |
Ernestina's coffin was in the funeral parlour by 4 and Eladio and I were the first visitors. I knew my husband was very sad but it is remarkable that at his age his mother had lived so long. But a mother is always a mother and I knew how sad he must be feeling. Ernestina was a humble but very capable woman who had 6 children in very modest circumstances. They were farmers in Montrondo and life was hard. Imagine the tiny remote mountain village of Montrondo in 1922 in Spain the year she was born? It must have been like the middle ages with no plumbing and hardly any electricity. Their main source of income was milking cows and in those days many people got TB well before antibiotics became available. She lost her sister Argentina barely 20 and her father Eladio in his 40's to this disease and Ernestina herself got pleurisy which weakened her for life. But she was made of stern stuff and had a very long life surrounded by her loving family; 6 children and countless grand and great grandchildren.
Now there she was in a coffin behind glass and surrounded by gaudy wreaths and the scene was stark to say the least.
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| RIP Ernestina |
As I looked on at the stark scene I tried to remember happier days. I searched my blog for photos with Ernestina and came across one taken around Christmas 2012 ten years ago. Here she is with us and my father of course, both of them 10 years younger. Age is so cruel.
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| The family with my father and Ernestina Christmas 2012. Happy times |
The rest of the family and their friends soon arrived to I suppose "send her off" - hate that expression. As I sat in that soulless funeral parlour I vowed my body would never set foot in one when my time comes.
It seemed pointless to sit around for hours and hours so just before dusk we left. That night we would sleep in our house in Montrondo as the funeral would be there the next day at noon. We hadn't been back since August and it felt strange to be there but nice at the same time. Eladio's brother and wife joined us for what turned out to be an impromptu and enjoyable dinner. I had taken provisions for one night so there was enough for our short stay.
Monday came. I spent most of the morning on bureaucracy to do with obtaining my retirement pension. I think I told you last week that my idea was to continue working and forfeit half of my pension. I was dumbstruck to hear a new law had come into force on 1st January which did not allow me to do that and I was furious. Thus I had no choice but to retire, albeit unwillingly. Only when my freelance status had been cancelled could I begin the process. Oh my God, I had no idea it would be so difficult. I spent every spare moment after that working on my pension. You cannot imagine the paperwork necessary which seems ridiculous as all my details are in the system or they should be. Did I tell you recently I had lost all faith in Spanish institutions. Well, this is just one more example. Life does not seem to be treating us well these days.
It was sunny in Montrondo but felt strange to be there. If only the circumstances were different and we could have enjoyed carefree days there after the funeral. But no, because of our damned squatter we could only be away for one night.
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| Our house from the back in the sun |
We had brought clothes to wear for the funeral. I am rather a stickler for tradition so packed a black dress and Eladio had brought a suit, white shirt and a black tie. Our dress was also a mark of respect for a lady of such a grand old age. No doubt when she was alive and her sister died, she wore black for a year or more. Some women after a tragic family loss wear black for the rest of their lives. That maybe a thing of the past but when you see old women dressed in black in Spain you will know why.
Just before 12 we set off to the church which is a very short walk. Apart from the family, all the villagers came, so everyone knew everyone or nearly. As we walked up the path, the hearse came behind us. It reminded me of when I saw my mother's own hearse in 1999 in Bradford. That was the moment I realised her death was final.
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| Walking to the church - hearse |
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| Eladio saying a few words about his adored mother |
God bless my marvelous husband. After the service the coffin was taken to the nearby cemetery where Ernestina's niche had been waiting for her - bought years ago - just above her husband, Antonio and her mother Lecinia. Everyone was gathered around as the coffin was lifted into the niche. This is always the most stark moment of a burial and it brought back memories of the burial of my own mother.
We then all walked back slowly down the path and to the village. Eladio and I sat on the centuries old stone wall outside and our dear neighbour, Salo, commented how good we looked. So on the spur of the moment I asked for a photo and got one. Here we were smiling on a very sad occasion.
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| Eladio and I after the funeral |
There was no wake or gathering afterwards as there would have been in England. There was talk of lunch together somewhere but there was no restaurant to be found. Thus we had the chickpea stew leftovers I had brought from Madrid alone. We set off for home at about 2.30.
It should have been a 4 hour drive home but it was longer. We stopped for petrol about 200 km from Madrid only to find the car wouldn't start afterwards. There was something wrong with the start engine - it had happened before. There was no option but to call the car rescue service and about 40 minutes later there was a tow lorry and also a taxi to take us home; all part of the insurance policy thank God. Otherwise a taxi to drive us 200km from home would have cost a bomb.
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| The lorry that came to tow our car to Madrid |
I couldn't help thinking as we were driven home, just what a spate of bad luck we are going through and wondered what would happen next.
We were home later but safe and sound. The car would be taken to a local garage the next day. It's my 20 year old Nokia Volvo but only has 200.000 km so I hoped it could be repaired. A new start engine was put in and we had it back by Thursday.
That night had a quick dinner then I spent a torturous couple of hours trying to apply for my retirement pension online as in person it seems there are no appointments available until the end of the month. I had everything they requested except my marriage certificate - as if they can't see we are married in their systems. Just in case, I got an appointment online again and wasn't given one until 28th February. The office I have to go to is in Aranjuez miles from home as there were no available slots anywhere else. Damn the system. Why do they make it so difficult? Luckily the certificate arrived on Thursday when I was able to complete the process. Fingers crossed all goes well and there are no more obstacles.
Before hitting the sack at about 11.30 pm I met our current guests, Miguel and his father Asensio who are from Elda in Alicante. Miguel is here working at a tattoo studio for 8 days. They seemed nice people. I get a lot of guests who come from different regions in Spain to work at this tattoo studio. Their money is as good as anyone's and they are all great guests.
To help me go to sleep I finished watching "A very British Scandal" on HBO - not that good (Argyl vs Argyl - a sleazy divorce in the 60's in the UK). I managed a few hours of shut eye and actually woke up a bit later on Tuesday, at around 7 am.
Tuesday was my birthday and it should have been a happy day. We tried to make it so but I, at least, didn't have the heart to celebrate after my mother-in-law's death and of course the ongoing nightmare with our horrible squatter. We did not have a birthday breakfast but I indulged in 2 crumpets that had been in the deep freeze for possibly 2 years. They still tasted nice. At about 10.30 Eladio, Pippa and I went on a walk which I needed desperately. An hour later Oli and Juliet turned up and we all went to have a coffee at Alverán where I indulged in two mini croissants. I think that was the highlight of my birthday.
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| Coffee and croissants at Alverán - the highlight of my birthday |
It was a beautiful sunny day and for once my thoughts were not on our current nightmare. All through the day people were calling or sending messages to wish me a happy birthday. I should have been grateful and I was but somehow my heart wasn't in it.
Then came the worst part of the day. I had to accompany Oli and Juliet once again to the police station (Guardia Civil) for my daughter to report Felipe for having attacked and pushed her to the ground. Oli had been twice before but they were busy. This time we were determined to wait until we had the report done which we hoped would reach the court soon to add to the other reports. I think we were there for nearly 2 hours in the dismal waiting room. For once we were attended to by a more friendly police man, Fermín. The hearing was scheduled for next Thursday 17th Feb but on Thursday we heard it would be delayed. That is because the process for our unwanted tenant to get a pro bono lawyer was not finalised. No doubt he did that on purpose. Now we don't know when the hearing will be. We shall go to the court tomorrow to find out. That was another blow this week; one we had expected really.
We were home by 3 which meant lunch was late; 3.30 or so. We had fish and chips. Lucy had made the chips but it was up to Oli to make the mushy peas and I had to do the batter and fry the fish. The end result was delicious. What wasn't so delicious was the cake. I had long wanted to try Alveran's pavlova made with meringue but was a bit disappointed. The meringue was not hard enough and the whole thing was sickly sweet. Even so I had two slices which left me full for the rest of the day. I wont' be buying it again. Oli didn't like it nor did Eladio.
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| My pavlova birthday cake was a bit of a disappointment |
The cake moment was spoiled by Felipe Turover. Just as we were about to cut the cake he arrived home demanding to be let in. Oli said she would go out and she did. Miguel and I followed, worried he would hurt her. He didn't. But before letting him in, she gave him a piece of her mind. She is so furious with him with what he is doing to us. I commented to her the other day that this whole thing has aged us so much and that must have hurt her a lot. Only when she had said everything she wanted to him, did Eladio go out to let him in and then we were able to have the cake. But the moment was spoiled really.
We had a long siesta - well I tried to sleep and managed about 15 minutes. The best part of the afternoon was a long skype call with my dear friend Amanda. We talked until I had no battery left on my iPad. By then it was nearly dinner time but neither Eladio nor I were hungry so just had an orange each.
We had missed the news by the time we went to bed so turned to Prime Video for some entertainment. We found and watched a beautiful film set in the Ottoman Empire in 1914, a story of love and war called The Promise. We loved it. Anything to take our minds off FT.
Wednesday came. As usual my day starts with my cup of coffee, the news, then breakfast and now Wordle. First I do it in English and then in Spanish. It has become a habit and a bit of an addiction. So, thank goodness there is only one word released each day. Everyone I know seems to be playing it. It's probably just a fad but at least it takes my mind off worrying things for a few minutes and probably exercises it too.
You may have noticed I didn't mention what presents I got on my birthday. That's because I didn't get any. Oli was too busy I suppose and Eladio and I had meant to go and get me one on Monday but of course his mother's funeral changed that. Thus we had the very pleasant task of going out to buy me something. There is nothing better than retail therapy to lift your spirits. But first we went on our walk where I think I must have created a few endorphins. We then drove to El Corte Inglés, Spain's flagship and only proper department store. There we had coffee at Starbucks. It annoys me that in Spain, a country where great coffee can be found, that the Americans have invaded the country with their cafes. But I have to say their coffee is good but most of all I like the set up with the comfy chairs. Of course coffee is much more expensive there but who cares when we are talking about a few euros.
I knew what I wanted for my birthday: a little tub of Clinique powder, the sort you put on over foundation. Mine had lasted at least 15 years so I was very pleased to see that they still make the same one. Then we went to the perfume department. There are literally thousands of different types, brands, fragrances, etc but my latest favourite is by Guerlain. I got the one I like best; "mandarine basilic" from the Aqua Allegoria range. I was told by the shop assistant that basil has something to do with happy hormones. Well, great. Later I looked this up and now I get all sorts of ads on my phone to do with the herb. A sign of our times isn't it?
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| One of my birthday presents to me |
We also got some elbow patches for 2 of Eladio's very good but very old jumpers one of which is cashmere. We had fun later ironing them on. While looking for photos of Eladio and his mother I came across one of him taken in the Retiro park in 2006. In that photo he is wearing the same green jumper we bought the elbow patches for. He still wears the same shirt too. I have to share the photo as I was so struck by my husband's good looks. He was 62 in that photo but looks a lot younger. Even today he doesn't look his age. What a gorgeous looking husband I have. He himself has never been aware of his good looks when he should have been. No doubt it would have given him greater confidence. I think he doesn't really care but I do. Who says looks don't matter? They matter a lot because after nearly 40 years of marriage I am still very attracted by him. There you go.
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| Eladio - Retiro Park 2006. He still has the same jumper and shirt |
The rest of the day was quiet. This week, prompted by Dolores, I started watching Julian Fellowes' American style Downton Abbey called The Gilded Age. It's on HBO but apparently only releases one episode a week. I have now watched the first three and am waiting for the next one. I only wish I could binge watch it. The Gilded Age is set in New York at the end of the 19th century. It is well made of course but is not a patch on Downton Abbey, at least in my mind.
That night we finished The Promise, set in the Ottoman Empire at the beginning of the Great War and which tells the terrible story of the extermination of 1.5 million Armenians. Still today, Turkey does not acknowledge this most terrible crime of genocide.
Suddenly Thursday was here and again the sun was out. This week seems to have passed very quickly. We went on our walk in brilliant sunshine and again did not see our unwanted squatter. I avoid him as much as possible but he is always on my mind. We then went to get some fresh fish for lunch as well as a few bottles of wine, one of which we would take to Oli's for dinner that night.
We had arranged to meet my daughter and family at the park near Elliot's school. He was bemused to see us. It was great to go out and do something different and spend time with our grandchildren. Next week is Carnival in Spain and children have to go in fancy dress. Miguel had bought an outfit for Elliot. It was of "Marshall" from one of his favourite cartoon series; "Paw Patrol". I had the privilege of dressing him in it. He loved it so much he insisted in sleeping in it hahaha.
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| Elliot in fancy dress - Marshall from Paw Patrol |
To make everyone's life easier I had got Lucy to make us Spanish tortilla (omelet with potatoes and onion) which we had with a salad. Elliot adores tortilla. We had an early dinner and were home by 9 on time for the news. The head of the London Metropolitan Police, Dick Cressida had resigned. It's a long story but basically she had lost the confidence of the Mayor of London after a report of "disgraceful misogyny, discrimination and sex harassment among some Met PCs". No doubt as a woman this would have been an impossible task. The Met is currently investigating the Downing Street parties. I wonder what will happen now. As to the situation in Russia vs a vs the Ukraine, it seems diplomacy is not working as well as it should and Europe is in danger. That day, Boris Johnson announced scrapping almost all Covid rules shortly. I think he is wrong. On Thursday in Spain I was relieved not to have to wear a mask outdoors anymore.
Friday dawned. I have been corresponding recently with one of my father's past pupils, a guy called Jon who was at Bradford Grammar School and was part of my group of friends when I was a teenager. He had sent me a recent group photo of some of them outside the pub we all used to go to, The Black Swan (Mucky Duck). I had a fling with one of these now old men. I wonder if you can guess who it is. After seeing that photo I am so glad I married my far better looking husband who has aged much more gracefully than any of them. Well, just compare them all to the photo of Eladio I posted above.
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| Old BGS boys in a recent group photo. Gosh, I knew them as teenagers. |
The photo did make me laugh. I hope it makes you laugh too. It made me laugh but it also made me realise just how much we have all aged. We met as teenagers and now we are in our 60's or 70s in some cases. Eladio remarked to me this week that he loved growing old with me. I suppose that is the choice you make when you decide to marry someone. It is of course wonderful to be so in love after nearly 40 years of marriage but I am very aware that we are growing old and don't have much time left with good health. Thus we must enjoy every day. This week, I think I have managed to be a little less stressed about our squatter. I have to be strong.
Friday was shopping day. It was also the day I went to the hairdresser for a much needed hair cut and dying of my roots. I think my hair has got whiter since our horrible ordeal. My appointment with Caty who only charges 22 euros, was at 3.30 and by about 5.30 I was home. I was quite pleased with the result. I'm not so sure about my eyebrows which she dyed too. They seem too dark. Let's see how long it takes now until I have to go again. I think I have told you many times, I am not the sort of woman who takes pleasure in going to have a hairdo. I find the whole procedure boring and tedious, although necessary. Once home I put on some lipstick and took a photo in our mirror to record the result. Not bad I think.
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| Back from the hairdresser on Friday |
At least my dear friend Sandra complimented me when we skyped that afternoon. I was so sorry to hear that her 96 year old mother, Magda, a survivor of WW2 and who lives with her, had been admitted to hospital this week with Covid which has put pressure on her heart which is very frail. She is very ill indeed and the worst thing is that because of Covid rules, Sandra cannot be with her. My dear friend and soul sister who lives in Brussels and who I studied with at Nottingham University is beside herself with worry. She is on her own too with no family to comfort her. I told her if it hadn't been for our damned squatter I would have got a ticket to fly out and keep her company. I am praying for Magda. She is a strong woman and I really hope she pulls through. With perspective Sandra's dilemma is far worse than mine.
We would have gone out for dinner on Friday night but couldn't as Lucy had left for her long weekend break. To go out we would have to ask her to stay. Thus we had a quiet evening together. I did not sleep well that night. Both a horrible cough that lingers after a recent cold and thoughts about FT kept me awake.
I was up at 7 am on Saturday morning. That day would be pleasurable as Oli and family were coming that evening. We had planned a birthday dinner to make up for the very low key birthday celebrations on Tuesday.
Yesterday was 12th February and would have been my dear brother George's 67th birthday if he hadn't died on 15th May 2001 of melanoma, aged just 46. Both dates are etched in my mind always. When we were children we celebrated our birthdays often together as there are only 4 days in between. Those were happy days. I so miss George, my talented, handsome but troubled brother who is always in my heart. While looking for old photos I came across a very rare one of the 4 of us together, my father, my mother, George and I. I think it must have been taken by Eladio shortly after we met and fell in love so the photo could have been taken in 1980 or 1981. That means that George and I were about 23 and 25 at the time. So long ago. For certain it was taken in our dining room at 6 Heaton Grove in Bradford. Notice the portrait of Tsar Nicholas II. I still have it and it hangs in my father's room. It was gifted to my parents by my mother's very rich uncle on her mother's side I think when they got married. My mother treasured it as I do too.
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| A rare photo of the four of us. George my brother, me and my parents. Bradford circa 1980 |
It's funny but I recognise the jumper George is wearing. It was green and he wore it a lot. My mother is wearing a familiar dress too; flowery and long. She was tall so could get away with wearing long dresses which I can't. My father is wearing a sort of smart evening jacket my mother got at a jumble sale I think. I never liked it but my mother thought it suited my father. My dear mother loved jumble sales and flea markets. Today they have been replaced by car boot sales which no doubt she would have loved as well.
As soon as I was up that morning I started on the dinner preparations. I would be serving potato salad, fresh asparagus, bought croquettes, smoked salmon and a raspberry tart; a sort of mille-feuille. I needed some ingredients so off we went to the local supermarket but first for a coffee at Alveran. We did not go for a walk yesterday as my knee was hurting, probably from too many walks this week. Today it is better. Once home I finished the potato salad and was proud of the result. As I have told you countless times it comes from a Swiss recipe book owned by my grandfather on my mother's side. The ingredients are potatoes, carrots, chopped spring onion, chopped boiled egg, prawns and home made mayonnaise. We love it and I only make it on special occasions. Yesterday was one of them.
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| Home made potato salad for yesterday's birthday dinner |
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| Making the raspberry tart |
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| The raspberry tart I made yesterday |
Oli and co were here by about 7 pm. It was lovely to see our grandchildren again. Elliot is such a laugh but also a bit too loud and boisterous but he is lovely in small doses. As to Juliet, well, she is quite the opposite; a smiling darling little baby who is hardly any trouble. Here are the two of them together peeping out of her play pen. It used to be Elliot's but he never liked it; not until it became Juliet's hahaha.
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| Our two gorgeous grandchildren |
We had an early dinner which everyone agreed was delicious and later spent time in the lounge. I played dominoes with Elliot. It wasn't the game of course as he is too young but he loves lining up the bricks and counting. Of course our conversation turned to the topic of our squatter and how our hopes had been dashed this week with the trial being delayed. We should try not to talk about FT when Elliot is around as the bad vibes tend to affect him and he begins to misbehave craving attention. I can't forgive FT for how he has affected our family life. The family left at around 10.30 and we went to bed late for us. We watched a film called Arctic about a pilot who crashes somewhere in the North Pole and his fight to survive. Again it was good to be distracted from thoughts of our squatter and the horrible situation we are in.
Today is Sunday. It will be a quiet day with probably not much to report. If there is I shall be telling you about it in next week's post.
Till then my friends. Wishing you all the very best until next Sunday,
Cheers Masha.
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