There we were in Las Galletas, buying the OH a pair of trousers. He tried on red ones, then the man produced a royal blue pair and one in bottle green. OH chose the blue, with a bit of a shove from me. The man said they would turn them up "gratis"and we could collect them on Thursday. Maybe tomorrow but "Seguro, seguro el Jueves." Sixty euros! Thank gods it was pension day. The OH is notoriously hard to buy for so I buttoned my lip and nodded. I'd expect three pair of trousers for that. Still, I handed over the credit card, doing a mental rehash of the month's budget, and then my phone rang.
Massimiliano, "Hola Liz, Roby esta inferma y tengo que trabajar." Can I babysit while he goes to work?
Well, Roby is seven and the nearest thing to a grandchild I have here - we've known her since she was a bump - so that was my day filled up. There was a bonus, though. Massi is a chef, and he had made a kind of chicken stew that smelled wonderful. "Put these tortellini in for 10 minutes before you want to eat," he told me. Dee-licious! The fact that I didn't get much writing done didn't matter quite so much after lunch.