100

This is the 100th blog entry I've made since I started it at the end of June. In the past four months, there have been 1827 visits to the site by 879 unique users. Fifty-two percent of visitors come back to have a least a second look. Thanks everyone for reading and for your comments. If you haven't signed the guestbook, please do so (it's on the left side of the page). I feel a little better today after indulging my misery this weekend. Had an interesting encounter with one of the old widows in the village yesterday on the goat track. This woman lives just down the street from me, and I pass her just about every morning when I walk the dogs. She's not a particularly friendly woman...I think it took about a year before she began to occasionally look up and say hello to me. She also has a dog, a little brindled Corgie-type thing, that is often sleeping outside on her doorstep. This Sunday, she and the dog were coming onto the goat track just as I and the pups were about to leave. The dogs had a good sniff, while she told me her dog had just had three puppies. Her speech was rapid-fire, but the gist was that she was torn about what to do. She could not keep the puppies, but she didn't want to kill them either (sadly, most unwanted pups and kittens are often drowned by their owners). She repeated, I don't want to kill them. I don't want to kill them. I tried to explain she should call the local animal rescue group, but I don't think she will. I think she was trying to ask me to take one of the puppies, but I explained two dogs and a cat were all we had room for at the moment. I felt badly for her because I could tell how torn she was. Most of the locals still seem untrusting of the animal groups, which are run almost exclusively by foreigners, preferring to deal with things in their way, no matter how difficult. So I wasn't the only troubled soul in the village, and if given the choice, I'd take my dilemma over the one the old widow faced. Halloween with the all costumes and candy is beginning to catch on in the village, most likely because of all the expats. I handed out little chocolate bars through the kitchen window to swarms of Spanish kids, only a few dressed up but all with sacks for their candy. That part they were very switched on to. There was a huge firework display at about 10:30. I went on the roof to watch but wound up hovering in the doorway most of the time. Since my firework accident and resulting black eye during the feria I'm not too keen on them, I'm afraid. Especially when I saw several low-flying bits, still aflame, land on (thankfully, empty) terraces nearby. Started on NaNoWriMo this morning. Was at an almost complete loss for ideas until Saturday evening I came across some history on the village, including the origins of its name, which I found very interesting, and lo and behold, the wheels started turning. Busy day, so must be off. Deadlines, deadlines..... hasta manana, mylifeinspain