pins and needles..

Granny has had a frustrating few days: today for instance she put the finishing touches to rooms ready for six young guests from Gran Canaria, all inconvenient enough to want single beds- and all come for Dolores pilgrimage, just up the road, the biggest fiesta on this island. Finishing touches included making a tortilla, putting together fruit, bread etc for their do-it-yourself breakfast in the studio room: - Granny and Beloved, off to Madrid first thing in the morning, are not able to give them breakfast in their dining-room as usual. An hour after they were expected comes the message. There's been an accident. Six people are not coming to spend the night. Granny returned the breakfast to the kitchen, sighing. Etc, etc. Oh the perils of being in the guest business.

Earlier in the week, Granny discovered that half the flights on her American itinerary had been cancelled: she'd been booked onto alternatives, one of which had her leaving Philadelphia 6 hours before she arrived there. Go figure. An entirely new itinerary had to be arranged - at a bigger price, it goes without saying. On the same day she had a call from a friend of the dear friend in Albuquerque who is the main reason for the whole trip - friend - very old friend - is beginning to lose her memory and Granny wanted to spend time with her once more in both their lives; thereafter, probably, saying goodbye for good. This kind of sadness happens when you're getting old (young old, she's told she is but still old for all that) - Albuquerque is a long way from Lanzarote. Friend is ill it seems - did Granny still want to come. Yes, she did - if she was wanted: indeed she was, but it might not be much fun. What's fun? Who needs it - this was the gist of what Granny said; so she is going anyway. She called again today and friend is much better, so maybe it will be alright anyway, if not exactly song and dance.

Oh and needles: try and find needles on this island... does anyone do any sewing? Not that Granny is going in for fine needlework, exactly, but she does have the odd button to sew on, the odd split seam to fix and she does need the wherewithall for that. You need a merceria, she was told, helpfully - merceria is the equivalent of a draper's shop.But such things have not only disappeared in the UK, largely, they also seem to have disappeared here. Not a merceria to be found in Granny's home town, nor in the one down on the coast where she goes to shop. She was rescued eventually by one of those ubiquitous Chinese shops which sells virtually everything for one euro. Thank god for the Chinese - whose Spanish, by the way, is no better than hers, judging by the limited conversation with the seller of her precious needles.

Off to the Dolores fiesta now - she will take some pictures and put them on here when she's back; though you'll have to wait till she's back - from seeing her friend, seeing Dotty Nana too. much later and other friends after that. Wey hey. She might get onto this at some point in the three weeks. On the other hand she might not.

(Oh and guess what she and Beloved are eating tonight: tortilla! And a lot of fruit.)