We awoke three times last night to the ringing of our Spanish cell phone. Of course, we are not currently in Spain, which is why the 4:00 and 5:00am calls provoked much disorientation and pounding of hearts. The first was about a potential stringer job; the second from the amateur archeologist who will not leave us alone until we make him famous. Neither, mercifully, was from Alejo, telling us in that booming yet incomprehensible voice of his that the Molino had burned down.
Ohio is a strange place to begin a blog on life in Spain, but there you have it. I could say that we needed the perspective, but so far, all the time away has done is confuse us more. We are trying, you see, to renovate an old mill in Asturias, to use as our retreat when we are not in Madrid (or Ohio, for that matter), a place to build a life in Spain around. But we've encountered rather a few glitches, mostly having to do with too much water in some places and not enough in others. More on the glitches, in excruciating detail in fact, later. First, we have to decide if we want to risk bankruptcy.
You can see the mill here.