 Tanya, check it out, I finally found a shoe store for you! Muxart Barcelona, handcrafted, all leather. Unhesitatingly urban without the grunge. From wild colorful clogs to swanky evening sandals. And you can say your shoes were made by a guy named Hermenegildo. Details, details. Sometimes at risk of stealing your outfit’s show. Knock-outs! I’m infatuated. And, as ever, waiting for a sale.
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 Tonight is San Joan, summer’s shortest night and the most ruckus of holidays. A firework laced celebration where everyone lights there own. And no one can wait. Once the stores start selling, the explosions start too. Day and night. Last Friday after dinner, there was so much activity we abandoned the yard and went downstairs to watch a big sound track action movie. Except for a couple of huge singular bangs, we pretty much drown them out. But in the morning we opened our door -- and found our mailbox punked. The lid was halfway down the block. At the police station the officer said (I think his eyes were laughing) that the firecrackers only happen twice a year, most people don’t cause trouble, and no, they can’t send a sentry. On the way home, I noticed the 24 hour security camera on the building across the street and knew it must have a clip of the pyromaniac. If I was lucky, it would show enough of his face to prank him back with a wild-west-style wanted poster. The big sticker on the camera said the tape was limitless and digitally stored, if only they would give it to me. I gave them the date and time. I waited for the reply. Yes, we would be happy to give you the tape. But, actually, um...you see...there is none -- that camera is a dummy! Now I find out, if you are hip to all this in the first place, you always leave the mailbox open during the run up to San Joan. And you already know that the fireworks stores stock the popular M80, a stubby stick of dynamite, nicknamed the “mailbox blaster.”     Surprise! Mallorca has lots of nooks where you won’t find wall-to-wall sunburnt beach bathers. Soft-playing sheep bells, tidy, peach-colored stone houses, apple orchards, slow pace -- Orient. A fun car for all the curvy mountain roads, and on to Soller, Fornalutx and Deia. More curvy roads. A seagull view of the water. A half hour flight from Barcelona. And the only place you’ll see the lobsters is back at the airport.            Just try to spot your familiar fishy favorites when you are not sure what they look like with their heads on! Fresh fish arrives at the markets in total. And the fish guy arrives at the market with a giant knife. You buy the whole thing, then he shows you his stuff. A ticket-worthy performance if you’re brave enough to say...no eyes, no head, no tail, no skin, no guts, no bones!.....And eek! the chicken lady’s scissors!!!!     |
