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Special captions are available for the humor-impaired.

Saturday, April 10, 2021


I post these just so that I can look back over the  years to see what sort of weather we’ve had.


Thursday, April 08, 2021

Mediterraneo by Joan Manuel Serrat



por Joan Manuel Serrat

Quizás porque mi niñez
sigue jugando en tu playa
y escondido tras las cañas
duerme mi primer amor,
llevo tu luz y tu olor
por dondequiera que vaya,
y amontonado en tu arena
guardo amor, juegos y penas.

Yo, que en la piel tengo el sabor
amargo del llanto eterno
que han vertido en ti cien pueblos
de Algeciras a Estambul
para que pintes de azul
sus largas noches de invierno.
a fuerza de desventuras,
tu alma es profunda y oscura.

A tus atardeceres rojos
se acostumbraron mis ojos
como el recodo al camino.
soy cantor, soy embustero,
me gusta el juego y el vino,
tengo alma de marinero.

Qué le voy a hacer, si yo
nací en el mediterráneo.

Y te acercas, y te vas
después de besar mi aldea.
jugando con la marea
te vas, pensando en volver.
eres como una mujer
perfumadita de brea
que se añora y que se quiere
que se conoce y se teme.

Ay, si un día para mi mal
viene a buscarme la parca.
empujad al mar mi barca
con un levante otoñal
y dejad que el temporal
desguace sus alas blancas.
Y a mí enterradme sin duelo
entre la playa y el cielo...

En la ladera de un monte,
más alto que el horizonte.
quiero tener buena vista.
mi cuerpo será camino,
le daré verde a los pinos
y amarillo a la genista.
Cerca del mar. porque yo
nací en el mediterráneo.

Like everyone else who lives on the Mediterranean basin, I love this song. I wasn’t born on the Mediterranean, but I’ve spent a very good portion of my life living on its very edge. I love that through this song I learned the name of these gorgeous flowers, the genista, that I see on my bikes rides along the coast here.


Tuesday, April 06, 2021

File Under: Learn Something New Every Day

On a recent cycling tour around Valencia’s surrounding villages and fields, I screeched to a halt to take in the beauty of a green, feathery field that looked as soft as a newly made bed. I had no idea what it was, but my companion told me it was hinojo, or “fennel” in English.

On closer inspection, I recognized the root bulb, something I’d seen in the market, but had never ventured to bring any home to cook, or whatever you do with a fennel root bulb. I’ve used fennel seeds, sometimes mistaking them for cumin (comino) when I’m congested and my sense of smell vanishes. The two seeds look very similar but trust me, they are not in any way interchangeable in the kitchen.

Oddly, both the English “fennel” and the Spanish “hinojo” come from a common Latin root (pardon the pun, but there’s really no way around it), feniculum, a diminutive of fenum meaning “hay.” While “fennel” bears a vague resemblance to the Latin fenum, the Spanish “hinojo” doesn’t, but the word “hay” in Spanish, heno, brings the circle around.

One click of the mouse and twenty-some centuries earlier, we have yet another revelation. The Greek name for fennel is “marathon” (μάραθον) or marathos (μάραθος), and the place of the famous battle of Marathon literally means a plain with fennel.

Two yummy things to do with fennel:

Shave and toss with Valencia orange wedges and a light vinaigrette for a delicious spring salad.

Slice in half crosswise, top with buttered breadcrumbs and grated Parmesan cheese, then bake. 

This house was next to the field. I was overcome with bougainvillea envy as I have a couple of sickly versions of this plant on my little balcony.

Monday, March 29, 2021

Concerning U.S. Presidents, Can We Just Go From 44 to 46?

Just try to imagine anything our 45th President ever said that you could put into any sort of context where he would come out sounding like a literate adult. I can’t do it.

Saturday, March 27, 2021

Guns Don't Kill People?

These are the weapons they took from some dickless asshole who was trying to get his nerve up to go on his shooting spree at a supermarket before he was interrupted, probably by some teenage chick at the make-up counter. I'm guessing he had a huge skidmark in his shorts and stank of BO and funky, unbrushed teeth. The basic profile of mass shooters are dudes who have never been with a woman in their entire, pathetic lives (at least without paying for it).

It’s so creepy how many men in America think that this level of weaponry is necessary, or worse, that owning this much hardware makes you a man.

Wednesday, March 24, 2021


No one could ever accuse me of being a vegan, but when a recipe calls for chicken and eggs, it just seems a bit much. I mean, you’re eating the chicken itself and you're going after its offspring, too? What’s next? A recipe that calls for a chicken’s hopes and dreams?