EthicalDative

Eduard bosses the well-traveled, 4-wheel drive Audi Quattro over the switchback roads of the Montsant mountains with the commanding zeal of a seasoned rallye enthusiast. One feels G-force as he accelerates into the curves. It’s an experience to be had and to remember as the peaks loom and the valleys plunge. Eduard insists he has never indulged in rallyeing, but his retired Bertone-built, BMW-powered SUV bespeaks a taste for spirited motor cars. My daughter says he picked her up in it for their wedding.

(c) 2018 JMN.

My son-in-law is a medical doctor and practices dentistry. He said the other day that, as a father of three, he has been especially diligent in allowing his children to experience childhood abundantly, letting maturity arrive gradually and in due time, but not under pressure. I had never heard this sentiment expressed in so many words, and it impressed me. The playfulness and affection that flow between him and his kids are apparent. I told him yesterday that I love him like the son I might have had at age 11 (that’s the spread between us).

A joyous tumult reigns frequently in the house. Routine conversations are conducted at high volume, and even small decisions can get much discussion before a negotiated settlement leaves everyone in happy compliance. Bacalao (cod) or rape (monkfish) for dinner? I had heard years ago when arriving in Barcelona for study that the Catalans seemed to argue a lot, but not to worry about it, it was just how they talk. It’s true, and I don’t worry. On the contrary, it’s one of the many things I find delightful here.

(c) 2018 JMN.

Eva, Eduard, Helena (10), Nuria (21)

Are these Catalan grandchildren a manufactured figment from my internal dream factory, or are they real? Helena, the youngest, is a Cheshire cat that swallowed a Roman candle peeping from Puck’s pocket — I can’t really craft a metaphor improbable enough to do justice to her complex, zingy, irresistible, bounce-off-the-wall, sometimes piercing, magnetism. This may help: Last night, over tea, she asked if I wanted her to draw me. Glancing up from my iPad, I said, “Sure.” It would require, she added, that I stay still and look continuously at her. Bye-bye, iPad.

(c) 2018 JMN.

Before and after.

JMN.

Enjoyed a leisurely outdoor chamomile tea with my granddaughter at the Viena. The windows with awnings formerly housed a fine restaurant patronized by prosperous Catalan burghers and their families. The Fortuny Theater is next door, a venue for opera, ballet and the like. JMN.

General Prim monument, central Reus. JMN.

Azalea in the central square. This small city in Catalonia is vibrant. Air temp is optimal — perhaps low sixties. Unusual rains for the area, I’m told. JMN.

An interesting flower in a central square of Reus, Spain. An azalea, my daughter says. JMN.