Guapo

On the Gran Via. From the alley nearby a constantly repeated loud cross between squawking and screaming, coming from an unhoused woman sitting on the pavement calmly crocheting - couldn't believe it was coming from her at first. Presume it was Tourette's.

The Padre got two dead bodies today, and happy with how beautiful he left them, including the 99 yr old whose pale pink lipstick he applied. We went out wandering the streets, ended up in a huge bookshop; I've bought Flannery O'Connor's The Complete Stories, and Berta Isla by Javier Marías, but so tempted to buy more... not easy to get books where we are, even by post.

Gratefuls:
- books, endless riches
- bread, hot sourdough from a neighbourhood bakery
- bed, comfy for both nights and naps