A Healthy Heap of Muliebrity

About two weeks ago I woke up half way through a thought; it went something along the lines of
Anna is going/
to be here today.
It was one of those rare transitions from sleep to wakefulness that are reserved for Christmas and travel mornings. I snapped into full awareness and was out of bed ready to go before I remembered that she would not be arriving until 3 pm. I made myself an elaborate breakfast, made myself go for a long run, paced, did everything I could to stall, and STILL arrived at the airport 2 hours early. There she was, on the other side of the customs boundary. Then she was in my arms. I was struck by a surreal moment when we pulled out of the hug and I looked fully at her face and thought I was looking at myself. My sister. My other half. Much awesomeness ensued.
We dropped her things off at the house and had tea and coffee with Marga and then took the buses down to the beach where we ambled along, collecting seashells, before plopping down in the sand. Anna demonstrated her natural propensity for pleasingly pointless activities. I had to teach myself to be okay with doing purposeless activities, my sister just naturally began digging a hole in the sand and then lining it with seashells.
The sun set and we wandered into the shopping district where I ventured into more shops with her in about an hour than I have probably graced in total since arriving here. We supped at an outdoor restaurant outside the Plaza Espanya and then made it home for bed.
The next day we took the train which took us to a bus which took us to the village of Alaró. We wandered along the labyrinth like back roads and eventually found the road which led us up the lower part of the steep incline which would eventually lead us to the ruins of Castell Alaró, lining the precipice of a cliff, commanding an astounding view of the planes and valleys leading all the way back to Palma which was lost into a sunny day haze. On our way up we apparently made bosom friends with a local couple who, although they were only walking as far up as the restaurant (half way up the steep climb) insisted that we meet them in the village when we were done and come to their house for tea. They felt friendly enough so we accepted and planned to meet at 5 in the plaza of the village. Anna and I made our way up to the remains of the fortifications in which the Arabs were able to hold out for two years after the Christian conquest of the rest of the island. According to one of my books about Mallorca "in 1285, two heroes of Mallorca independence, Cabrit and Brassa, defended the castle against Alfonsó III of Aragón and were burned alive on a spit when he finally took it by storm. Their punishment was a consequence of their impudent defiance of the king. They pretended to confuse Alfonso's name with that of a local fish- anfós, shouting, 'We like our anfós grilled.'"
Anna and I ate our bocadillos sitting over the cliff and then explored the ruined walls a bit before heading back down the trail and arriving in town with 5 minutes to spare before our planned meeting with our friends, Victoria and Andres.
They rolled up in a classy looking, shiny black car and Anna and I spent a graceful minute wandering around it trying to find the door-handles. Our 'cup of tea' turned into a very thorough tour of their house (involving ancient and illegal artifacts, family portraits, etc.) and was eventually reduced to Victoria showing us funny youtube clips and friending us on facebook. We wound up eating a pizza and popcorn dinner with them and meeting their 14 year old daughter before, at 9 pm, they drove us to the train station.
The next morning Anna came to Llado School with me and got to meet many of my students, much to everyone's delight. That afternoon we napped in the sun on my back deck and Anna battled the onset of jetlag while I went to afternoon classes at La Purisima. That evening we again wandered the city and continued the verbal outpouring of our lives before heading to bed in anticipation of Mom's arrival the next day.
And then there were three. Anna and I had been debating about which custom's exit Mom would be using and then, there she came, carry-on, neck pillow, giant smile and all.
We took the bus to the girls' hotel, Hotel Paladium, and went on to wander out to the old city walls before deciding it was time for lunch. After that we were all in accord that siestaing is an important part of the Spanish experience so we heaped into the two full beds pushed together. That afternoon we walked along the proud paseigs and I showed them the old city. We walked along the walls around La Seu and caught up on each others' lives in the way only a mother and daughters can. We made it back to the hotel in time to sink happily into our books, three abreast (for a total of six breasts).
I lay there and began to feel the elixir of their proximity breaking down and seeping through the cracks of the walls I had built against the sensation of loneliness. I knew I had to let this wall down to fully enjoy their time here but I knew it also meant that horrible aching hollow when they left; but now was not the time to think about that; now was the time to be wholly invested and to drink deeply of all the wonder these two women carry with them. I was proud I had the awareness to realize this and the strength to do it.
On Wednesday morning both the girls came with me to Llado where we fielded questions from my beloved sixth grade class and the little boys tried hitting on Anna to her chagrin and Mom's delight. Then we walked along the Paseo and stopped at the beachfront restaurant of one of my student's Father and ate Paella and absorbed sun. We made it back to the hotel in time to pay due tribute to the siesta gods. It was a slow and lovely day which we ended by chatting about life, men, personal philosophies, and literature over a rotisserie chicken and potatoes at my kitchen table. I began to fully digest the nutrition of the proximity of these two amazing women. I could literally feel my spirit soaking it in and gulping it down, like a desert plant that knows to absorb and retain as much rain as possible when it comes. I felt so blessed and so deeply happy; a feeling which I am sure was also related to a giant box of hand picked, artisan chocolates.
The next day we caught the old fashioned, wooden train out to Soller where we had a fishy and girly lunch along the port, did a little shopping in the town, wandered up to a beautiful overlook of the city, and then ate ice cream on the rocky beach.
We made it back in the late afternoon and had a few hours to process before Pilar and Veronica, the English teachers from Llado showed up to take us out for tapas at the restaurant belonging to another of my student's parents. Three hours later we were stuffed and winding down. The Mrs. who owned the restaurant had come to sit and chat with us for an hour or so and by the time we were leaving, everyone in the restaurant was waving goodbye and we were more than ready to go to bed.
Friday morning we caught the bus up to Valldemossa where I allowed the coca de patatas prove to Mom and Anna that it had been worth waking up to visit. We sat in the morning sun and sipped hot chocolates and coffee and eavesdropped on the conversation between the delightful, ancient English couple behind us and watched the wall of the church where Chopin composed as it continued to not change. We wandered through the gardens and perused the shops before boarding the bus in time to get back to Palma for the now requisite siesta and then Mom and I went to La Purisima while Anna let the sun lull her to sleep.
Mom was a huge hit with my first graders. That evening we went out for tapas again, this time with the teachers from La Purisima and at the restaurant which the teachers frequent. As such, we merited besos from the owner as we were leaving. It was a lovely night.
Saturday morning Marga and I packed lunches and water bottles and picked Mom and Anna up at the hotel and drove out to Sant Elm where we caught a small boat over to the nature preserve island of Sa Dragonera. We hiked to the tip of the tiny island and ate our lunch under the lighthouse. We then made our way back to catch the boat back to the mainland, not wanting to spend the night where we would probably be overtaken and consumed by the millions of endemic lizards who occupy the island. We spent the afternoon lounging in the sun outside a cafe and Anna and I played on the beach.
That night we again conferred over a supper at home and Anna and I wove seashells bracelets and watched Space Jam in Spanish before we all trekked back to their hotel where I lay in bed morosely and watched as they packed up. It was unpleasant but also quite alright. I mean, I know I will see them in a month, and it is kind of fun to watch other people packing while you can just sit there, so really, it was just an interesting experience during which I focused on absorbing enough of their presence to get me through this next month.
The next morning we were all awake at sparrow fart and said our goodbyes. After they left I went back to sleep, took advantage of the free Continental breakfast and then walked slowly through the lazy Sunday morning. I ran my laundry, cleaned my room, beat out the rugs on the sunny porch and then took the bubbles Mom had brought for Josep and walked along the docks for several hours and blew bubbles in the spring breeze and waited for Loneliness to decide I was not home and give up on pestering me.
Since then I have been having a whole new series of spring adventures; better saved, I think, for another entry.