Mother’s day, Oli in León reporting on the snow, a quiet May bank holiday, the best restaurant in the world is Spanish, a new King in Holland, a Bridget Jones Dinner, my Father’s 94th birthday, deep water marathon swim between Formentera and Ibiza, a Spanish garden in Spring and other stories.

Sunday 5th May 2013

With my Father - the cake blowing moment on his birthday on 1st May

Hello again, 

It’s Sunday and the time to write my blog.  Today is Mothers’ day in Spain and the girls are not here.  I have myself to blame probably as I never brought them up to celebrate it.  Meanwhile families in Spain will be celebrating all over the country with family lunches which has me feeling a little bereft.  Just as I wrote this, I got a call from Olivia who is in Valencia, to wish me a happy Mother’s Day which has left me feeling a little better.  No sign of Suzy though which rather gets me down as she was supposed to be coming home to live with us before going to London but that doesn’t seem to be happening.  

I am now adding a bit of news here about Mother’s Day.  After I wrote the above, Susana appeared, a little shame faced but with a beautiful bunch of flowers and wonderful cake. 

Mother's Day flowers from Susana most appreciated and unexpected

Thus we had an unexpected Mother’s Day lunch, albeit without Olivia.  But it was nice and we had it outside.  My Father enjoyed the cake, made with thin pastry, cream and raspberries.  It reminded me of one my Mother used to make which we used to call “the slice” not very appropriately.

A wonderful cake from Suzy for Mother's Day

But let me start from the beginning, from last Sunday.  That afternoon Olivia went off to León as there was snow forecast in the north of Spain and her programme, La Mañana de la 1, wanted her to report on it as snow is somewhat unusual at the end of April even in those parts of Spain.  León, of course is where most of Eladio’s family live so instead of going to a hotel, Olivia and her producer colleague, 23 year old “Esme”, went to stay the night with my sister-in-law Pili and her husband Andrés.

Oli with her colleague Esme arriving at Pili and Andres' home last Sunday

They got wonderful hospitality and Olivia told us later it was so nice to stay with them rather than at a hotel and that Andrés had been like a Father, waiting in the street for them to arrive, accompanying their chauffeur to a hotel and even going out at 11 at night to buy them oranges for juice at breakfast.  Thanks Pili and Andrés, you are both so special.

They were up early in the morning to drive to a village in the mountains called Isoba where Oli would be reporting at 10.29 (clip) and again at 12.31 (clip).  Isoba is in the mountain range called The Peaks of Europe (Los Picos de Europa) and one day we most go there.

Olivia deep in snow reporting on the weather from Isoba, León, last Monday

Adela, Pili’s sister, a primary school teacher in León, later told me she watched Olivia live on the television with her class.  What a lovely gesture Adela.  Thank you.

On Monday Oufa left for a four day break, good for her of course, but I wondered how we would manage.  Manage we did of course but it was a relief to get her back on Friday.  Part of her time off was due to the May bank holiday. It was a holiday on Tuesday (1^st May) and on Wednesday too in Madrid as the 2^nd May is celebrated here to commemorate the uprising by the people of Madrid in 1808 against the occupation of the city by the French.  This in turn triggered the famous Peninsular War.  For a lot of people in the city it was a chance for a week’s break, or at least a long bank holiday which is often called a “Puente” (bridge) here.  We stayed at home and I must say our May bank holiday was one of the quietest in years.

Monday was a great day for Spain, which may be going through an awful financial crisis with 25% unemployment, but the news that day did a lot to enhance its brand abroad.  Spain excels at many things and is often in the news with victories in sport but it is also known for its Mediterranean diet and great gastronomy. So when the British magazine Restaurant announced the top 50 restaurants in the world on Monday night the good news was that the Spanish restaurant “El Celler Can Roca” in Gerona took first place.  There was more good news for Spanish cuisine too as there were 3 Spanish restaurants in the top ten, the other two being Mugaritz in fourth place and Arzak, the only one I have been to, in 8^th place.  So I think we can happily conclude that Spanish cuisine is the best in the world.  In a way I think it is thanks to Ferran Adriá, the owner of the now closed El Bulli who started this amazing wave of fantastic chefs who come from this great country.

Celler Can Roca in Gerona, voted best restaurant in the world 2013

El Celler Can Roca is run by three Roca brothers, Juan, the head chef, Jordi the pastry chef and Josep the head sommelier.  I would love to go one day but read later that, as at most top restaurants, it is difficult to get a table, which are often filled with Japanese tourists as the Japanese tourist agencies block the tables years in advance. They are also full of food and restaurant so called journalists who go there for free.  What a cheeky but wonderful profession they have.

On Tuesday I had my own share of good news.  The interview that I had arranged with my boss’ boss, the head of Mobility Services for our mother company Teliasonera, a week or so ago, was published that morning in Spain’s leading financial daily Expansión.  I was happy to see too that it was all quite positive.

The interview in Expansión that made my day on Tuesday

That morning Olivia, who had moved on from León to Asturias, was reporting on the snow from a village called La Raya.  That night she slept at Esme’s parents’ summer house nearby, where she enjoyed another night away from home but not at a hotel.  You can see the clip here if you go to 11.31h.

Olivia reporting on the snow in La Raya, Asturias, on Tuesday

People all across Europe were watching events in Holland that day, as the new King Willem-Alexander was being crowned in the company of his Mother Beatrix who had abdicated in his favour aged 75, all his family and representatives from all the Royal houses in the world.  King Willem-Alexander is the first Dutch King since Willem III in 1890.  Argentinians were ecstatic that day to see his wife, Argentine born Maxima, become Queen.  They can now boast a new Pope and a new Queen. I wonder if the Kings and Queens of Europe, such as Queen Elizabeth II or King Juan Carlos will be harbouring thoughts of abdicating in favour of Prince Charles or Prince Felipe.  I think they should but suspect they will go on until the end when they are doddery, unlike the Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI.  Also in the news this week was the latter’s moving into the Vatican where he will be near Pope Francis; two popes in the Vatican is indeed breaking news.  However the ex German Pope has made it clear he will not interfere and will spend his time praying away from the rest of the world.  I wonder what the ex Queen Beatrix will spend her time doing now that she has abdicated in favour of her son.

The new King of Holland and his wife Maxima and three daughters

That day, probably inspired by the news of the top restaurants, I made more meringues, as well as a very Spanish dish, “fabada” (sort of thick bean stew) and I also tried my hand at making bread with proper yeast.  I am very sorry to report it didn’t rise and that I had to throw it away.  Both girls were here unexpectedly for dinner that night but as they hadn’t told me I had nothing prepared and already had eaten a meager dinner of cereal before they came.  Even so I joined them and we had a Bridget Jones moment of devouring ice cream from a tub.  Oli, who came back from her snow reporting trip that afternoon, remarked that I shouldn’t feel bad as I hadn’t done anything like that for a long time.  It reminded me of my University bingeing days where I used to have chocolate egg and toast competitions with Adele, Christine and others and squirm inside every time I think of it.

Whilst we were devouring ice cream, my Father and Eladio were watching the second leg of one of the Champions League semi finals between Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund.  Remember Madrid were thrashed 1-4 in the first leg in Germany the week before?  In order to get through to the final, Real needed to score at least 3-0.  Frustratingly they managed to score 2-0, a decent result but not enough to reach the final I’m afraid.  The next day, Barcelona were playing their second leg against Bayern Munich to whom they had lost 0-4 in the first leg in Germany.  They needed what is called a “remontada” or miracle in the second leg if their dreams of being in the final were to be fulfilled.  They were crushed 0-3, a rather unheard of result for the Spanish team who has won the competition four times.  So, as predicted, we will have a very boring all German final in Wembley this month.

Wednesday was 1^st May, a holiday to celebrate international workers’ day but also my Father’s birthday.  He was to celebrate his 94^th birthday, something of a record.  I only hope I reach his age and in the same good mental health.  These days birthdays at home are not only celebrated with presents, a card and a special lunch but, also special breakfasts.  So off I went before 9 to buy freshly made croissants and churros and porras (those lovely Spanish fritters you dip in thick hot chocolate). For once we were all together as you can see in the photo.

My Father's family birthday breakfast on 1st May

Suzy left later for Santa Pola where she would spend the week with what I call her other family.  But Oli was with us for lunch. 

Suzy spent the bank holiday with her girlfriends in Santa Pola (Alicante)

Instead of cooking I went to a gourmet store I love called Mallorca and brought back all sorts of delicacies.  This is what the table looked like.

The birthday lunch for my Father - fit for a king

The Photo illustrating this week’s blog is of me with my Father just as he is about to blow out the candles on the cake, made by Oufa by the way.  

Whilst we were gorging, Olivia’s boyfriend Miguel was doing something very special and very difficult.  You will be wondering why I included a “deep water marathon swim between Formentera and Ibiza” in this week’s headline. Well it refers to the marathon or Ultra Swim that Miguel did that day from Formentera to Ibiza (30km). And he did it in 11.39h, imagine.  He came 3^rd which is some achievement.  He told Olivia later that he suffered from cramp most of the way.  If you thought cycling or marathon running were the hardest sports in the world, you were wrong, deep water marathon swimming has to beat them all.  Well done Miguel.  I hope you have recovered now.

Miguel on the podium on the beach in Ibiza after coming 3rd in the ultra swim marathon between Formentera and Ibiza (30km - it took just over 11h)

Thursday, 2^nd May, the holiday in Madrid, was a fast day for me.  Watching the end of The Paradise and working on documents for next week’s press conference where Yoigo will be announcing its launch plans for 4G, helped take my mind off food.

On Friday, thankfully Oufa was back and I could leave the cooking to her, as well as all the rest of the domestic chores.  So, not having left the house for a few days, other than for our afternoon walks, I stepped into my car and drove to the Centro Oeste shopping centre in search of a black belt.  Of course I came home with more than a belt; yes the odd blouse, scarf and cardigan are now helping to fill my walk in closet now to the brim.  

On Friday afternoon, Olivia left to spend the weekend in Valencia with her swimmer and cameraman boyfriend Miguel.  She will be back to day but just for half an hour because just as she gets home she has to leave again, this time to spend the week reporting in Galicia.  We continued with our routine and went for our usual walk which was beautiful because of the sunshine and all the wild flowers. Elsa spied a rabbit in the distance which was the perfect moment to get a good photograph of her like the one below.  God bless her she’s a wonderful dog.

Beautiful Elsa on our walk on Friday as she spies a rabbit in the distance

Friday being Friday we went out to dinner that night.  This week’s choice was Sibara in Majadahonda where I always choose their marvelous gazpacho and Spanish style fish and chips, neither of which would be served at El Celler Can Roca of course.

Spanish style fish and chips at Sibara in Majadahonda

Yesterday, Saturday, was a glorious spring day.  The sun shone and the temperatures increased, not a lot, just to 20ºc but it was the perfect day. Eladio spent most of it in the garden removing weeds and dead bushes. He took some marvelous photos of what I call our Spanish garden in spring, so green and full of flowers at this time of year. You can see them here.

A scene from our Spanish garden in Spring

I took the opportunity to pick some of them and get out vases and fill the house with some of the yellow roses, lilac and these very special white roses the name of which I don’t know.  These are them and they are spectacular.  If you know the name, please tell me.  Ah and they are not hydrangeas (hortensias), although they look like them in the photo.  These are much smaller and grow on very big bushes.

The beautiful flowers from our garden the name of which I only learned now.

Finally I have found out that these flowers are  called Viburnum Opulus in Latin,  also European cranberry bush or Guelder Rose ah and Kalinka (or Kalina) in Russian, as in the song. In Spanish it is called a snowball (bola de nieve).  Nice to know.  Thanks my Facebook friends for enlightening me.

I will remember yesterday too because it was the day I had arranged a phone call with my oldest and best friend Amanda.  We exchange emails on a regular basis but haven’t spoken for a long time.  So yesterday it was great to hear her voice and chat openly, as we always do, for nearly an hour. Amanda I miss you and Andy and am dying to see you again.

After finishing The Paradise, yesterday Saturday, was the perfect afternoon to start watching Gosford Park.  I bought it after watching Downton Abbey, sure that it would be good as it was written by the author of the latter, the much admired Julian Fellowes.  I have only started but it is a very promising period drama series, reminiscent of both Upstairs Downstairs and of course Downton Abbey but different as it is also a mystery film.  It stars Helen Mirren and Maggie Smith as well as a host of other excellent British film and television stars.

I started watching Gosford Park this weekend

And today is Sunday, Mother’s Day as I wrote at the beginning of this post. I am waiting for Olivia to return with Suzy who has gone to fetch her from the station.  We have already packed her case for her trip to Galicia, via a list she sent Suzy from the train.  In a few moments the peace of this house will be taken over by a bit of bedlam caused by her rushed arrival and departure.  But then once she’s gone, the house will be quiet again.  In any case we look forward to seeing her on the television next week.  In my case that will probably be on my phone as I shall be very busy and on the move most of next week.

So my friends, this is it for this week.  Wishing you all the best, cheers till next time,

Masha

A wrong diagnosis and a simple question: Sir, Why can’t you lift your leg up? My Father in hospital and no other stories to tell this week.

My Father slowly on the mend after his emergency hip operation on Wednesday.  Olivia and Susana spend many an afternoon with him, as does Olga.

Hi everyone, 

This week has not been good.   In fact it has been exhausting and very worrying; very different from last Sunday when life went on as usual.  Now it has fallen all apart.  There is only one thing to report, my Father is in hospital and our lives revolve around him.  The house is empty, the dogs don’t know what is going on and we spend the days and nights taking turns to be with my Father.  Eladio and I take turns at night and the girls or Olga go in the afternoons. In Spain each patient is expected to have someone to accompany him, day and night and that is what we do.  We have turned into nurses over night, something which for me was distressing and difficult at the beginning but is now becoming easier.  As an acquaintance said on Facebook, “do it with love and it will all come naturally”.  How right she is.  Thank you Tanya.

You will know that my Father fell some six weeks ago, just a few days after being in hospital.  He complained that his left ankle and foot hurt and the 4 doctors who saw him, including a prestigious traumatologist, all made a wrong diagnosis and said he had a sprain and prescribed bandaging and paracetamol.  He did tell them all that it most hurt when his left leg was lifted but they still all insisted he had a sprain which they could see from the X-rays.  However they only took X-rays of his foot, not his leg or higher up, even though we insisted. And because of the wrong diagnosis in those six weeks he was confined to a wheel chair and terrible pain and dependent on us for his every movement, which of course depressed him.  We did our best to look after him and feed him and cheer him up but I could not understand why six weeks after the fall he was still in agony.  What we didn’t know was that he was also losing blood.  No wonder he was so weak and listless. He was monitored by his local GP, if you can call it monitoring, who told us that from the blood test results she had seen he had lost a lot of hemoglobin and iron and could be bleeding internally.  She thought the loss of blood came from the daily aspirin he was taking for his heart and took him off it and prescribed iron tablets.  She warned us that if we saw any blood in his stools, to rush him to hospital.  This turned out to be a contradiction as apparently if you take iron tablets your stools will always be black.  

On Tuesday afternoon, the day before Spain’s national holiday on 12^th October and the day before my trip to Lithuania, fate was ironically on my Father’ side as we would finally find out what was wrong with him.  In the late afternoon, Eladio saw the dreaded blood and rang the doctor who told us to ring the equivalent of 999 (112 in Spain).  The Emergency services immediately sent an ambulance and my poor frightened Father was lifted in to it on a stretcher.  It was his first time ever in an ambulance and my third, I think.  Luckily I was able to accompany him and Eladio followed behind in his car.  We were taken to the Spanish national health service hospital in Alcorcón some 15km from home.  He was in agony the whole way complaining about the pain in his foot with every bump the ambulance made and I could do nothing to help him, just look on with a broken heart.

We arrived at the hospital and were attended immediately.  I had dreaded hours and hours of waiting in the emergency unit but no, two young doctors came quite soon.  In just five minutes they realised what was wrong with him.  The young South American doctor asked my Father in perfect English “Sir, could you please lift your right leg up (the good leg)” which he did.  Then he said “Sir, could you please lift your left leg up (the bad leg)” and my Father said he couldn’t.  The doctor insisted: “Sir, why can’t you lift your left leg up?” and thereby came the answer.  He couldn’t lift it up because his hip was broken or that was what the doctor suspected.  His suspicions were confirmed with an X-ray five minutes later. We could hardly believe what we were hearing.   Six weeks ago my Father had fallen and broken his hip and none of the doctors had been able to diagnose or bother to diagnose it.  The so-called prestigious traumatologist at the Clínica 2001 in Majadahonda just took an X-ray of his foot, briefly touched it and did not ask my Father the vital question if he could lift his leg.  Later I asked the traumatologist at the Hospital de Alcorcón, why the other doctors hadn’t realised and I think he covered up for them by saying that if my Father had complained about pain in his foot they wouldn’t have suspected it was his hip.  I then asked why the pain was in his foot if the fracture was in his hip.  The answer was simple, pain can manifest itself in another part of the body to the injury, as often happens with back injuries, for example.  But surely traumatologists know that I thought.  Thank goodness the young South American doctor, to whom I will always be grateful, asked that one simple question which was the key to my Father’s well being.

Luck was also on our side on Tuesday in that we knew a doctor at the hospital who pushed all the right buttons for things to move fast and in the right direction for my Father.  It turned out that Juan, the father of Rocío, the girls’ best friend from St. Michael’s school, is the head anaesthetist at the very same hospital where my Father was.  Juan was travelling to Chicago the next day, but even so he rang all the right people and got his team to take his place and be there for any assistance we needed, including Teresa, a gentle lovely doctor who helped us enormously throughout.  

Luck was not on our side that first night which I spent with my Father in the Emergency Unit.  I had just a hard chair to sit on and needless to say neither of us got a wink of sleep. That night is better forgotten.

So now we knew he had a broken hip which would have to be operated.  However my Father was a high risk patient because of his age and weak health caused by the blood loss.  There was an option not to operate but that would have meant never walking again and forever living in pain.  We decided then and there that he was to have the operation. The doctors were not sure whether the blood loss came from the hip fracture or from another cause.  So first they had to wash out his stomach and then subject him to an endoscopy, the latter an unpleasant test which when we read the consent form, made us think twice.  Thankfully Juan was always there to advise us on the phone.  I cannot thank him enough. No internal bleeding was evident from either procedure so the next day, Thursday, they went ahead with the high risk operation of a replacement hip. 

Teresa and the Cristina, her delightful young colleague from Juan’s team of anaesthetists let me in to the ante theatre where I was able to see my Father before his operation.  He was going to have a lumbar anesthetic rather than a general anesthetic which was a lot less dangerous for someone his age.  Some two hours later Diego, the traumatologist who had operated him, told us the operation had been a great success.  We were so happy!  Teresa then let us see him in the reanimation room (if that’s what it’s called in English hospitals) and he was amazing, he was all there, completely aware of what was going on and not particularly distressed or worried.  I was so proud of him.

Well that was last Thursday and today is Sunday.  He is slowly getting stronger.   All my friends and family have been a great support.  I hesitated about reporting his progress on Facebook but now I’m glad I did.  There have been so many wonderful comments and I read them all to him and he is amazed.  Thanks my friends.  Fátima came to see him last night and Julio came this morning, Pili and Dolores ring nearly every day and Jackqueline is praying for him as are some more of my friends. As I said on Facebook, it’s good to have religious friends in these times, hahaha.  I made a pact with Jacky, I would feed him with food made lovingly at home and she would pray.  Jackqueline has prayed at every stage and every stage has been a success.  I’m so impressed with her results that I have now asked her to pray for him to walk again and have a good health and mind and live to at least 102.  She has agreed but is not too sure whether 102 is God’s providence or not! Caring for Grandpa after such a big operation is like reviving a wilting plant, some sun, some water and most of all loving care.  

As the hospital food is not appetising and he is not very hungry, I decided on the second day to bring him his food from home and bring him the food he likes best. So here I am thinking most of the day what I am going to make to take him for his next meal, to whet his appetite and to make him stronger.  Then when he eats it all, I feel like clapping my hands with joy and happiness as my tactics are working.  Our main occupation now is for him to eat and to do the special exercises from his bed in preparation for getting out of bed.  Yes, Grandpa will get stronger, the pain will go, he will take his first steps on a zimmer frame and he will come home and will have quality of life.  Then we’ll take it from it there, slowly but surely.  His main objective is to go on the weekly food shopping outing with Eladio where they both enjoy a glass of white wine and a tapa at the Cafetería Río.  You see, he doesn’t ask for much.  

Whilst my Father has been in the hospital I haven’t really followed the news, as my thoughts are really only with him.  There really are no other stories to tell this week.  I have realised however just how warm the weather continues to be.  We still go about in summer clothes.  Before my Father went into hospital on Tuesday afternoon, believe it or not both Olivia and I swam in our very cold pool.  We enjoyed the afternoons with him there, as did our dear dogs which are now a little abandoned.  I took this photo of Elsa on Monday who this week reached the grand old age of 5 months, a mere puppy but now getting bigger and bigger as you can see from the photo below.

Elsa was 5 months old this week.  She is so beautiful and such a lovely dog.

 If my Father hadn’t been admitted to hospital, this week I would have told you more about the lunch with my ex Nokia girl friends on Monday.  The lunch was called for by Susana to celebrate her new job but she cancelled at the last minute, as did Fátima.  So Jill, Ana, Zenaida and I arrived at the restaurant Susana had told us the lunch was to be, a place called Coquerel in Majadahonda to find it was closed.  In the end, rather cross with Susana, we went to a Chinese place nearby and had a cheap menu of the day.  

I would also have told you about my exciting trip to Vilnius in Lithuania on Wednesday for the Communications team meeting.  But of course I had to cancel it.  I love travelling but even if I had been going to the moon, I would have cancelled as I could not miss being with my Father at such traumatic times for him.  

And that my friends, is the story of how our lives turned upside down in just a week.  As I finish writing my thoughts are with my Father and Eladio in ward C2, room 222 at the Hospital Universitario Fundación Alcorcón.  Eladio will be in the reclining chair by the window and my Father in his hospital bed.  They occupy one half of the room.  The other half is occupied by another patient, Juan in his late 80s’ who snores so loud at night I can’t sleep.  Rosa, his daughter spends every night with him and we have become good friends.  Illness tends to unite.  I wish them all a good night as I wish you too.

Cheers my friends, till next week.  

Masha

Looking after Grandpa, remembering my Mother, something to celebrate, Alicia came to stay, 5 years with Yoigo and other stories.

Grandpa being looked after by all of us.

 Hello again,

I wonder how your week has been. Mine has had its ups and downs, but on the whole it has been ok.  At the top of my mind there is always my dear Father, who, at the grand old age of 92, is now very frail and needs constant attention.  We took him to the traumatologist on Monday because the pain in his leg was not getting better.  We thought he had a sprained ankle but actually he has a sprain in one of the small bones in his left foot.  We were doing all the right things to get him back on the mend so we just have to continue.  I think he is getting better very slowly but then what can you expect at that age.  In any case, he worries me and when I see him so uncomfortable I realize just how much I love him.  He is all I have left on my side of the family and he is the only person to share the memories of my childhood and of my immediate family, my brother George and my beloved Mother.

This week was the 12^th anniversary of the death of my Mother, something which will have been on my Father’s mind the whole time.  It is a date neither of us will ever forget just as we will never forget her.  My Mother, as I have written countless times in this blog, was unique in so many ways; someone who always left an impact on you because she was larger than life and full of contrasts.  She was all the adjectives; daring, lively, fun loving, religious, academic, creative, naughty, respectful yet often lacking in respect, loving and affectionate and someone who knew how to listen.  In short she lived life to the full, having come from a background worthy of a novel.  She came from a Russian aristocratic family who fled the Revolution whilst she was in her Mother’s womb. Born in the Russian Embassy in Rome, the family later emigrated to Sofia in Bulgaria.  Her 2 metre tall now penniless Father, Prince Andrei Lieven became a priest and her aristocratic Mother, Sophie Stachovich, suddenly had to look after 6 children almost  single handedly, when back in Russia she probably only saw them at bed time.  My Mother, Elena Lieven, was sent to school in France at the age of 6 and did not return to Bulgaria until she was 10.  When the war came, she fled Bulgaria, in fear of the takeover of communism, and made her way to Germany to join her brothers Sasha and Kolya.  When the war ended, and her experiences there would be worthy of another book, she found herself unable to return to communist Bulgaria.  The decision she took then decided my future, as in 1944 my Mother made her way to England, to learn the one language missing from her repertoire of Russian, Bulgarian, German and French as well as a smattering of Italian.  Some 10 years later she met my Father and they went on to be happily married until death did them part on 1^st October 1999.   So on Friday 1^st October 2011, Grandpa and I and the girls, who adored their Grandma, remembered her especially even though we all carry her in our hearts every day.  Mummy I will always miss you. 

My Mother, as I best remember her, watering her plants in the porch at 6 Heaton Grove, Bradford

Grandma would have been very proud of her granddaughters, Susana and Olivia this week.  Oli appeared on TV again, which always gives me a lift in morale.  You can see the clip here at minutes 41.55 (12.13) and 02:08 (13.44). This time she was reporting on Euro Disney recruiting 600 Spaniards for the theme park in Paris.  She came home armed with the visiting card of the CEO of Disney Spain and I wonder if she realizes how much experience she is gaining.  On Wednesday she told us that her contract with TVE has been extended until next January.  We were so happy for her.

Suzy had great news too.  On Tuesday her bosses at Aramark, the big American food services company she has been working for since May, promoted her and made her a supervisor of a residence in Madrid.  This will be in addition to her job as a dietician for the company and will mean she will be working full time.  She will continue to work from home.  Suzy, we are very proud of you.

We decided to celebrate both girls’ successes and booked a table on Friday night at La Vaca Argentina in Las Rozas where always go to when we want to celebrate something.  Unfortunately my Father couldn’t join us and he was sorely missed.  But who did join us was Alicia, my beloved god daughter, who came to stay for the weekend, and Gaby, Suzy’s dependable boyfriend.  The picture the waiter took is very bad quality, but still it captures the happy moment. 

Celebrating at La Vaca Argentina

It was great to host Alicia this weekend.  On Saturday morning, the girls in this house, went to Majadahonda to the famous flea market and then to the shops in the main street where we also sat outside and had a typical Spanish “aperitivo”, some white wine with a tapa. Here is a picture of the 3 beautiful girls at the market.  You can see the rest of the photos of Alicia’s time with us here.

Suzy on the left with Ali in the middle and Oli on the right, at the market in Majadahonda on Saturday

Alicia, I think you know, is living in Madrid with my other niece, Paula.  I hadn’t seen them since they moved in at the beginning of September and then through a chance remark on Facebook, Paula joined the girls and I for a bit of retail therapy on Wednesday afternoon at La Vaguada, a big shopping centre not too far from where they live and only 15 minutes in the car from our house.   We had a great couple of hours together, with visits to Zara, H+M, Stradivarius and Oysho amongst other places, and then enjoyed some delicious frozen yoghurt at a Danone stand.  Here is a picture of the three beautiful cousins on Wednesday at La Vaguada shopping centre.  I hope we can soon repeat the experience.  Alicia couldn’t be with us as her Nursing lectures are in the afternoons.

Shopping with Paula in La Vaguada, a great girly afternoon

The 1^st October is a significant date for me, as it is also the date I joined Yoigo.  This year, though, is even more important as it is my 5^th anniversary with that great, amazing, fun, challenging and different mobile phone operator where creativity rules. I joined 5 years ago and am still loving it.  I had a couple of down moments this week and twice was cheered up with good news about Yoigo related to or as a result of my work in PR.  According to a study by Hydra Social Media and Socialbakers, Yoigo is the 12^th best brand in Spain at managing its Facebook page.  We beat our competition to the ground as we are the only telecoms company to reach the top 20.  That news certainly lifted my spirits and came just when I needed it.

I was happy to see that Yoigo came out so well in the Social Media study above, 12th best brand in Spain at managing its FB page which is actually my responsibility:-)

As always this week there has been time for reading.  The weather continues to be great and we mostly read in the later afternoons by the pool with my Father and the dogs at our feet. I finished William Boyd’s Restless and am about to start on “Ordinary Thunderstorms” by the same author, whilst Eladio is reading one of my favourites, the “Three Wild Swans; Three Daughtersof China”.  Grandpa is reading  “Bound Feet and Western Dress” also about China.  On the subject of books I must tell you that my friend, Mariano Guindal, and the father of San, his Chinese adopted son, whom Susana has been teaching for some years now, made his debut as a writer this week.  Mariano is a prestigious financial journalist and for the last two years has been working on a book called “El declive de los dioses” (the fall of the gods) which this week he presented in public.  It is the story of the transition of the Spanish economy from the times of Felipe González to the current Spanish Premiere, José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, of which he was an exceptional witness.  Susana brought us a signed copy from him of which we are extremely proud. We actually saw Mariano on the television one night in an interview about the book and we know there have been many more. I have a feeling his book is going to be a great success which makes me very happy for both Mariano and Mar, his wife and fellow journalist who is the book’s co-author.

Mariano Guindal, our friend who made his debut as an author this week when he presented his book in public.

Mariano gave us a signed copy. I am very proud of him.

There was also time for watching films and last night we hired the film Pan Negro, Spain’s entry for the best foreign film in the 2012 Oscar’s.  It is set in the Spanish post Civil war era and I had been looking forward to seeing it but was actually disappointed.  I didn’t like the story or the dialogue between the children and thought all the actors were rather ugly.  I for one don’t think it’s going to win in this category. 

Pan Negro, Spain's entry for  best foreign film in next year's Oscars, a bit disappointing.

On the topic of the Spanish Civil war, I must mention something that surprised us all, one lunch time, this week.  My Father has an amazing memory and it’s incredible to see just how lucid he  is, despite being unwell.   We were talking about the 1^st October being the anniversary of my Mother’s death. I pointed out, of course, that it was also my 5^th anniversary with Yoigo and then Eladio said that it was also the date the Spanish Civil war ended.  Here my Father perked up and corrected my academic philosopher husband and said it had actually finished on 1^st April 1939.  I googled this on my mobile phone and soon saw my Father was right.  I then challenged him further and asked him which date the war had started to which he immediately replied: 17^th July 1936.  Again he was right and I was very proud of him, as I have always been.  

And that folks is it for this week.  

Cheers till next time