Plucky Penguins

Autumn has finally made its way to Madrid.

I blame the penguins. The frequency with which I have seen them over the past few days - some in white, others in brown, and still others in the traditional black and white, but all covering matronly bodies and mysterious manes of hair - should have been the clue: the penguins were the harbingers of autumn.

I just wanted to use 'harbinger'.

Over the weekend, the air turned a bit cooler, but the sun was still in power. I walked with The Man, The Dog, and a child, the son of a friend who has been enlisted to keep me company under the auspices of my helping him with English. I spotted the first two of many penguins of the weekend. They sat on one of the typical wooden benches that line the boulevards in Madrid. One was busy plucking hairs out of the chin of the other. The mutually grooming nuns gave me a chuckle.

I will admit that upon occasion, a wayward hair causes me no end of consternation. I have even recruited help (intimates only - The Man, CBF) with eradicating an errant hair, but never in public! Never on a park bench. I suppose when God is your calling, you tend not to sweat the small stuff (like having witnesses to your grooming procedures. I suppose, the hair itself is 'no small stuff'. It must be got rid of!).

Later there were more nuns, wandering here and there. None acting in any noteworthy way. Not like their hair-obsessed sisters. Just a lot of them here and there. Silver crucifixes swaying between their bosoms. Then the cold air came. And some rain.

In the meantime, I continue to 'finish' the new flat. "Finishing" requires a lot of random picture carrying when I spot something that resembles something I might need.