Mom arrived on the 6th of December... and I had arranged everything.  Well almost everything. Ok... I really only decided on the cities that we would visit and booked the hotels.  I did not do any research about the history, or the best shopping zone or which restaurants serve the best food without eyes.  Madrid was her touchdown point but we stopped only long enough for a coffee before escaping from the bitter cold and heading south to Andalucia.  I had only been to Sevilla once and that was in the middle of August 2006. Recap: 130 degrees... Celcius. I didn´t leave the hotel between the hours of 2pm and 10pm if I could help it. So, needless to say, the Sevilla that Mom got to see was dramatically different than the fly-infested-fry-an-egg-on-the-pavement city that I had seen the first time around.  We wandered around after dropping our stuff off at the Moroccan themed hotel... the cathedral, Plaza de España, the river, flamenco... so many things... it was wonderful.  Not cold but far from hot... the perfect temperature to get a bit lost and then flashed by a sicko in the old Barrio Judio.  From there we went to Córdoba which was a bit cooler and has the marvelous Mezquita (mosque)... an architectural wonder that is done no justice by photographs.  There we stayed in a hotel with a delicious restaurant. You may be wondering, ¨What made this restaurant so special... this is the first good thing I have heard her say about the food.¨ Yes, well... my friends this was a Mexican restaurant.  No other words are necessary.

We woke up early on Monday morning and headed to Ciudad Real... I had to teach at 11:30 so really there was not one moment of rest.  That day I also put three of my paintings in an university-wide exhibition... interesting to see the works and influences here.  Also, it was quite interesting discussing my work in Spanish with people who come from a completely different world.  I enjoyed it... and got presents for participating, too! Monday thru Thursday was filled with classes, pastries, tutoring and coffee... Mom kept up and I didn´t make it easy for her... I tend to walk fast and leave with just enough time to arrive where I need to be.  I am a difficult person to be around... I know this and want to take a brief moment to apologize to and thank all of you who put up with me.  Thursday after classes Mom and I headed to Madrid and checked into the ultra modern hotel in the hip and trendy gay area of the city, Chueca.  Shopping, the Royal Palace, churros with chocolate, the Prado Museum, coffee and a Will Smith sighting at the Spanish opening of his new movie ¨Soy Leyenda¨ I don´t know what it is in English... they translate EVERYTHING here.  And mom made a good point... unless the Prince of Bel-Air speaks Spanish, he just went to an opening and sat through the movie that he acted in but with a different person´s voice and probably did not understand a word. hmmm...

Sunday, the 16th, we go to the airport and I send Mom off... tears fell but I knew she was in good company with the Alabamians who were in line in front of her. Good preparation for reentry into the US of A. I was a bit sad so I treated myself to the Dürer exhibit at the Thyssen Museum and then headed home to unpack and start doing laundry.  I have to make sure all of my clothes dry before Friday so that I can pack them up again for my holiday treck through Italy.

Some things that I realized over the course of my week with Mom:
I love food.  Good food... dark chocolate, full fat whipped cream, goat cheese with walnuts and guacamole.  I enjoy seeing my reflection in the buses that pass as I am waiting to cross the street.  I will forever be in debt to Mom for having taught me to read a map.  I hate to try on clothes.  I need to stop walking so fast and start leaving earlier to be able to arrive on time.  The number 2 bus in Ciudad Real takes me from the train station to the front door of my apartment for about one American dollar.  Sevilla is much better at this time of year (9 or 48 degrees) rather than in August (40 or 104 degrees).  People in all countries, in all languages, will ask me what the writing on my paintings says.  Having warm toes can mean the difference between liking or disliking a city.  I need to brush up on my Spanish. No matter who takes the pictures of La Mezquita in Córdobe, they all look the same and do nothing to describe the magnitude of seeing it in person.  I hate the fact that I have to eat; the Spanish time schedule, cuisine and restaurant system is completly bogus.  How to justify eating pastries as big as my head (daily... hourly) and drinking innumerable cups of coffee each day.  Paying to "become a friend of <your local museum here>" is so worth it.  Bodily functions are hilarious.  I need to drink more water.  Spanish children are impecably dressed.  Spanish adults are a lot less uptight around the holidays.  I must attract famous people; I have seen, within an arms length, Prince Felipe of Spain, Cate Blanchett and Will Smith (not that it counts but today someone asked if I was Nicole Kidman! yeah... right). I am proud of my art and that I can now say that I have had pieces in a European exhibit (even though it is only in Ciudad Real).  Mom is right, and always has been: hats are cozy, amazing and warm; these people are crazy for not wearing them.  I like orange trees with twinkle lights in them.  I don't like to get wet (translation: bathe/shower) when I am cold; I would rather be dirty.  I want to live in a cold climate:  boots, sweaters, scarves and jackets suit me (plus warm weather climates mean humidity, fuzzy hair and tan, exposed skin... not quite my cup of tea).  I want to return to Mexico.  A gringa, in Madrid, during the Christmas season will run into someone she knows... so, like Mom said, "Just make sure you are always doing what you are supposed to be doing."  Will Smith looks just the same in person as in the movies.  I need to buy a watch.  When it is cold outside it doesn't matter what you have on because you will just put a big coat on over it.  I am going to look into working for a travel agency... but I will never be a tour guide.

Big love and holiday greetings to all of you.  Think of me when you drink cider, eat gumbo, and light the candles on Christmas Eve.  I will be thinking of you... in Italy... full of spaghetti and hanging out with the mafia.

xoxcr