No. But I have a dinner knife...

Here is what I have in my kitchen:

• A dull knife purchased at a convenience store
• a broken spatula (both pieces have been left if I want to glue them together)
• a pot handle (found the skillet it went with!)
• a plastic whisk
• a wooden spoon
• a plastic ladle
• three bottle/wine openers
• lots of plates and bowls
• wine glasses
• some small pots and pans
• five glasses
• one serving bowl
• a few mugs

Here is what I don't have:

• a can opener
• a paring knife
• a bread knife
• a sugar bowl
• a napkin holder
• a salt shaker
• any other serving pieces at all
• any large pots or pans
• any baking dishes at all
• an ice cream scoop (which I need because that's an important food group)
• a vegetable scraper (that scrapes, there is one, but you couldn't cut with it, believe me I tried this morning)
• any large glasses
• a pasta pot
• anywhere to store food at all other than the fridge

This morning we went to set up a bank account which was time consuming but easier than the usual Spanish bureaucracy. We needed only passports and money, which believe me for Spain is nothing! Afterwards we came home so I could begin to wash mattress covers. It's hot as fuck today (40° which is like 100° but terribly, terribly dry) so we decided to wash at home, dry out on the line and inventory the kitchen because breakfast this morning was a bit of a fiasco.

I should begin by explaining what happened with breakfast yesterday morning.

Our first night, we decided to buy a few things so we could have breakfast in and save a little money. We bought fabulous bread, butter, jam, plums and of course, nutella. We got milk, which here is shelf stable and kind of creepy because who thinks to buy their milk off the shelves instead of in the refrigerated section, but there you go.

Yesterday morning I awoke to realize that the microwave was aged and was not going to be the most effective way to heat milk, so I found a pot which was one of the larges I have (probably about 1 1/2 quart sized) and put it to boil. Then I tried to cut the bread.

But no bread knife.

The Kid asked what I was going to do. So I answered, "I have a dinner knife!"

Turns out the dinner knives are serrated and so I used one to hack off the bread (inelegantly) to say the least. But since this took a while and we lost time to searching, the milk boiled over and made a mess.

Fast forward to this morning when I was preparing kiwis. Turns out the vegetable peeler is totally useless. I am again making milk and prepping breakfast (pan de jamaica and jamón) and since the peeler does not work, I have to get all McGyver on this shit. The Kid says, "Are you going to use the bread knife you bought yesterday?"

No, I replied, it's too big. But I have a dinner knife!

In the midst of all this though, the milk once again boils over making a blessed mess.

Time to shop some more.

Day 1: Arriving in Madrid

We arrived this morning in Madrid. Or should I say, in the middle of the night. It was morning for Madrid. But it was 1 am for us. Ouch. I'd managed to get about 5 hours of sleep on the plane which wasn't too bad. And I have to give major snaps to Aer Lingus (which just sounds so dirty!!) for having pretty awesome head rests, terrific blankets and great entertainment which I did not avail myself of.

We sailed through immigration (one of those things where when you come in on a European carrier, most of the passengers are European) and there was no customs at all for us to go through. We did end up taking two cabs, but since it's August and the entire country is vacationing in some other country (possibly the US as far as we could tell on the plane) there was no traffic to speak of and we made it to the apartment by 8:40am.

After gaping at the strange, labyrinthine hallways, deciding on bedrooms (which we then reversed later on), breathing a sigh of relief that the showers had curtains, not semi glass walls which many European bathrooms have, and discovering there was no soap in said bathrooms, we departed for some breakfast. We ate this, standing up, like good Madrileños, at Santiago's favorite place the Museo del Jamón which serves bocadillos, a kind of a sandwich for next to nothing. We dined upon various jamón (kind of like prosciutto but saltier and thicker) sandwiches, some with manchego cheese, fresh squeezed orange juice (incomprehensibly called zumo here) and delicious café con leche made with fresh espresso. The Kid ordered a hot chocolate which was so thick that it might as well have been simply a melted chocolate bar. As he later exclaimed upon our promenade back to the apartment, "A chocolate a day keeps the pouting away!" which is a good thing since I have had just about enough of that shit right now.

We then proceeded to take a nap which was interrupted by the arrival first of my popcorn and then of the cleaning lady who had come to wash our curtains. Wha????

In a way this turned out quite fortuitous because it seems she works by the hour and will clean the entire apartment for 30 euros every other week. Sweet!

We traded rooms with the kid, unpacked, got more or less settled, found an unprotected network (hi there! coming to you live!) and went out to eat. There is a Cuban restaurant three doors down which served a good enough lunch for 8.50 euros per person all inclusive. For that, I got a spinach salad, a veal cutlet and fries, peach juice and watermelon for desert. Ricardo had the same. My maritime child had ceviche, grilled turbot and pineapple juice instead. And the Spanish do not skimp on the portions. It was a nice big salad which was great!

Now I am back at the apartment resting my knee and the boys are off exploring and walking. It's perfectly pleasant outside. It's 90° but there is no humidity at all. The laundry has been drying in about an hour and a half (yeah, no dryer which is a pain in the keister). So compared to home it's perfect outside. People complain of the heat, but it's perfectly pleasant and this morning was cool and lovely.

I am hoping I can stay awake until 10pm but I do not have high hopes. I am afraid to lie down to read for fear that I will simply fall dead asleep. But so far, good first day!

Here's something fun for the three days before we leave!

I've totally fucked up my knee. Actually, it's not my knee, it only feels like it's my knee. It's actually severe tendonitis of my hamstring muscle. And I don't know how I did it. And it's the kind of thing that may take as much as 6 months to be better.

And did I mention it's been a problem for an entire month and I've ignored it utterly? Because my assumption is just that I was out of shape and I would go to the doctor and he'd say, you need more exercise. Which I fucking hate hearing. And also I'm getting a lot what with moving and all. And now we won't have a car for a year so that will be a lot too. And I thought maybe it would just get better. But actually it got a whole lot worse.

A little medical information is a very dangerous thing as it turns out. Because I would never have actually gone to the doctor at all for this unless I had not become irrationally convinced yesterday that the piercing pain in the back of my knee was a blood clot and that I could not get on the plane to Spain with a blood clot in my leg without seeing a doctor first (note how it wasn't that I would not be going to Spain, but that I would not be going without first consulting with a doctor about how I could go with a blood clot, because clearly I am insane).

So while waiting in line at the main post office to mail various boxes to Spain (one including popcorn and maple syrup and another including the popcorn popper for the popcorn) at exorbitant prices, I called the doctor's office. My doctor was on vacation, but could I get there by 4? I could see someone else. Sure (because I probably had a blood clot) because I thought maybe I had tendonitis and wanted to be sure it was nothing (a blood clot!) before we left.

Guess what? It wasn't a blood clot (which you knew early on) but this tendonitis thing (which I actually had also self diagnosed but it wasn't in my knee. And by the way I'd need a few months of physical therapy. Well, that was going to be a problem, I mentioned, because we're moving to Spain soon. Oh, how soon? Friday.

That's soon.

Yeah.

So I got a prescription and called Ricardo who called some PTs in town and got one who could take me. Can I be there in 15 minutes?

Uh huh.

I guess it's good I'm a quick study because I'm getting two sessions before I leave for Spain and will be doing the rest on my own. And no stairs. And lots of heat. And naproxen sodium. And stretches. And then ice.

Good times!