We’re home and happy to be here. Although we didn’t fall to our knees and kiss the ground upon landing, we did nearly kiss the cashier at Sparro’s in the airport, which sold several varieties of vegetable-laden food. In the heady postprandial bliss that followed, we sung several verses of “Proud to be An American (‘cause at least I know I’m Free)” and, after finding Advil, Sudafed, and Nyquil on sale at the newsstand, nearly joined the Armed Forces.
Owl the cat was so happy to see us that he immediately fell over. He’s been purring for about twelve solid hours.
I apologize for the disturbing picture in the last post. The greasy keyboard made me do it. Those legs really do hang in every restaurant, bar, and grocery store in Spain, though. Just to remind you that yes, you are eating pig. This pig. Here he is. Say what you will about the soylent greenishness of the U.S. attitude toward meat, I’m not sure hanging desiccated corpses around is a compelling alternative.
Ooh, A Prairie home companion is at my alma mater Michigan State University tonight. Yay!
I don’t care if it rains or freezes, long as I got my plastic Jesus.