green pumpkins

The pups (and the kitty) and I are settling in for three days of rain. Three days of rain would not affect the comings and goings of people in most places. In Philadelphia, when I left for work I would simply wear a raincoat and take my umbrella (assuming I hadn't lost it the last time it rained...) and be sure to walk as far away from the curb as possible, to avoid being splashed by rushing cars hitting potholes filled deep with the night's rainfall. But this village isn't like most places. :-) First, so much of the economy is still based on the outdoors. The old farmers will not go to their fields today, nor will the construction workers build much of anything. The tables and chairs at the cafes will remain stacked under the awnings. Second, driving becomes a serious hazard. Because of the village's elevation, clouds often cozy up against the church tower, and the town seems to disappear, as though one had wiped the Etch-a-Sketch clean. So, no visibility, and on the tricky mountain roads, few people care to take their chances at guessing when the next twisty curve will pop up. There are also plenty of surprises for the ambitious driver to anticipate, namely, landslides and bits where the road actually washes away. Most decide to wait for the rains to end and the Guardia to clear the piles of wet earth and rocky debris before venturing out on the road. Oh, and I haven't even mentioned the folks who live along dirt tracks in campo...depending on the conditions of their road and their access to a Land Rover, they may be stranded at home for a week or more. When Big Jim first moved to the villa just outside of the village, he and the moving truck were stuck for almost three days. Rainy days here are like snow storms back on the East Coast, except no one rushes out to buy up all the milk and bread. If people can, they stay indoors and wait for the power to go out. When the first rain fell last night, it took but thirty seconds before the electricity was off in the village...bad timing too because everyone had just sat down for dinner. But we all have plenty of candles, and soon homes were bathed in their romantic glow. We read, play board games and cards, sleep more....it's just the way. Sort of like the green pumpkins. Our first winter here, Big Jim bought a slice of pumpkin to make soup and a curry. He saved the seeds and planted them in the spring. To my astonishment, they grew. I've since learned that anything will grow here if it gets enough water. However, I was also very surprised to find out the pumpkins here are dark green, not the brilliant orange I was used to in the US. They are pumpkins, I assure you. The guts are still orange, and I've used them to make pie. I had the same experience when I cut open my first cantaloupe here and also found its flesh to be green, pale like a honeydew, but unmistakeningly the taste and texture of a cantaloupe. I'm sure there is some scientific reason for the differences; I just don't know what it is. So I must now put on the raincoast and coax the dogs outside for a walk. Then I must get to work before the power goes out again and my laptop's battery power drains. I look forward to this change of season. Five months of nothing but sunshine can get a little boring. :-) hasta pronto, mylifeinspain