pueblo – Page 24 – don't confuse the narrator

self-fulfilling prophesies

I always check the stats page to see what people are searching for that leads them to the blog.

I already commented in pictures of pigs that I get a lot of visitors looking for “pig slaughter” – some of whom I hope go away satisfied that they’ve seen butchered swine on several pages, although, as yet, I’ve not actually been present at a matanza. (I do love the fact that Spanish doesn’t seem to distinguish between the idea of “slaughter” when it applies to approved animal killing for food, and “massacre” when applied to B-movie horror, e.g. La Matanza de Texas.)

Note that I’ve not been an eye-witness, but I have heard: there has to be a pun about “pigs’ laughter” and “squealing”, but I’m leaving that for another day.

Recently, though, there have been more searches for “science and technology poems”, and I think I am failing those potential readers. So I’d better do something about it (hence the post title).
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the leisure business

The local piscina natural is now active for the summer and new signs have been painted and displayed. This is one that has escaped the graffiti artists so far:

Some of my pedantic readers will realise quickly enough why I am not impressed.
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dry’ku III

Ragged leaf veils
geometrical precision:
butterfly eggs.

In case anyone cares what sort of leaf it is, it’s a kiwi leaf, and the ones above are grape vines. And there is, indeed, something odd about the chaotic tumble of vines juxtaposed with the tiny perfect arrangement of insect eggs.

immortal bird

At half past one this morning, I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep because of the loud birdsong outside my window.

I’m not at all good with identifying birds from their songs, but I’m pretty sure it was a nightingale singing from the cherry tree. It stopped briefly when I put the light on, but then, from what I remember – I did get some intermittent sleep – it continued all through the night until I was awake again around six. Gradually, as it got lighter, the voice was joined by others, and now it’s daylight, there is still much birdsong, but it is more scattered as they are all off about their usual business.
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use your loaf

Bread is important in Spain. Not what I’d call good, but important, all the same.

The two loaves in the picture look tempting, but they are both basically cotton-wool-style white bread. The one on the left, bought as un pan, will be easier to cut in a couple of days, and will make quite decent toast. At first sight, a foreigner may think the one on the right – una barra – will be like a French baguette. They’d be wrong. It’s pretty much the standard tasteless Spanish loaf, though the supermarket version tends to be rather cheaper and even more like cardboard than the ones I buy in the panadería.
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