You know you're a grown-up when you're the person who has to deliver Christmas. And this year I'm the designated adult. All of Mr B's siblings and their families are coming to us for Christmas Day. And out here on the not-so-sunny Costa Brava finding an ostrich-sized turkey to feed them all with is proving to be a bit of a challenge ... .
The weather is not quite Christmas-perfect either; it's definitely not balmy and benevolent. One of my favourite escapes is down for a dog walk on the beach. It's been stormy for the past couple of days with huge waves crashing over the harbour wall. The beach is littered with flotsam and jetsam, and the sea is alive with a dangerous, destructive energy that's not usual in these parts. To be very honest I find this tempestuous weather exhilarating.
I'm amazed and saddened by the things that get washed up on the beach. Some of the sea glass that I've collected over the years is sensational, but the rest is shabby rubbish. They say that every piece of plastic that has ever been made is still in existence, and an alarming amount of it is bobbing around polluting our seas. Thankfully since the plastic bag charges came into effect in Spain I'm noticing fewer of them in the sea and littering the high water line. But there's still a depressing amount of rubbish that people could so easily have taken home with them.
Emi watches the waves with the fascination of one who considers himself a salty sea-farer. He tells me that he's imagining the horror of facing out to sea in his little sailing boat that's about the same size as a surf board. I can't imagine how terrified I'd be if he were out in the squall, but somehow the fishermen manage to brave the elements every night, and we hear their big diesel engines chugging into the harbour with their catch in the wee small hours. It's a nice time of the morning to snuggle under the duvet and feel grateful to be there and for having nothing pressing to get up for ... the bliss of lazy mornings with the wind howling at gale-force outside.
And every time we walk past the boat yard, this little boat with its cute too-close-together eyes makes us smile. I'm just glad that it's been spared the worst of the winter storms.
All the best for now,