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many, many years (many, but not many, shrews) that there was a wonderful season called "summer vacation" that began a day that your mother was starting to get out of a drawer swimwear and clothing last year so you can try it. As every year we had drawn (in my case to the height and width, sniff) played out of stores to urgently replace the swimsuit foam (the lycra one suspected even existed), shorts, half a dozen T-shirts, and sneakers, which were always marked "the dove" instead of "Victoria" carrying the lags, and in mid-September that looked a tremendous gaps through which we poked the fingers. At first my mother also took out the floats, which were of a very fat blue gum (blue ours, who had also yellow and orange, but these were horrible) you left the body flayed alive with what not to wear it only learned to swim in four days. Just do not click those noses had floats in any way so I was surprised that there are still at my house.

holidays began, therefore, with great display of compreteo and followed their usual channel in which each faithfully played their role, which in our case was limited to spend the two hundred five-hour journey of asking "How much longer?" And "Are we there yet?" as an alternative. Those were high-risk travel. Inverting input about eight hours on a trip that now we ventilate in less than four short hours, so we left home about 6.30 am for what not to take heat, silly because you took heat takes eight hours to peel off when they went out and got engaged or not all windows Upholstered car with towels, the remedy was worse than the disease because for that subject had to carry the windows closed and air-condition acondicionadosólo was a blow that pulls it all sweating for hours. Sure, it had to be eager to suck Vacation 500 kms. leading to a maximum of 80 per hour and having to watch all the time possible engine heaters, especially increasing que subíamos un puerto de montaña, y nosotros teníamos que pasar así como cuatro. Pero si los conductores y copilotos merecían una medalla imagínense lo que era ser niño en aquellas circunstancias, que lo que te tocaba era ir dando la tabarra todo el camino con el considerable riesgo de que te abandonaran en un arcén, te tirasen por la ventana o, lo que era peor, te cayera un guantazo o varios, que una vez que se calienta la mano es difícil parar.

Echo de menos aquellas vacaciones. En realidad lo que echo de menos es mi papel en ellas, o sea, yo no tenía que preparar nada. Porque se lo crean o no, preparar las vacaciones es un estrés que te mueres. Yo no sé si es que la misma energía pre-vacacional that causes a kind of goodbye cosmic conjunction means that if something can be damaged just before the holiday is ruined. And if they can be several things, the better. In my case I have a few weeks disaster warning about a bit. For example, about ten days ago was chulito microwave and had no pulse occurrence to throw me to see who won without knowing that it would not be me, with what was achieved a great move to trash (or at least to the point clean left is where the bodies of these pots) and was replaced by a new micro, bigger, more powerful, more beautiful, and more manageable. Then it was the car that started making strange noises and teach everywhere light of various colors that I did not know I had. And when he came to leave the car in the shop, the machine spat me two buckets of water through the hole smelling strangely filter, conveniently after the filter trap, of course. I still can not explain where his nose was saved that amount of water, and what I had to smell like that at first I was sure they would start releasing bits of an animal in the process of decomposition. Nor do I explain what were the strange black blobs that came mixed with water, and that might not ever know, that I fired the imagination, and then I start vomiting and lousy. All this, remember, two days before going on holiday to the land of wolves in the gang of teenagers in full, you do not know why I let myself cheat.

Yesterday morning I picked up the car from the shop after hearing the explanations of mechanical stoically insisted on telling me that I thought at first that the noises were the fault of the sinembló but then was not. I, as the sinembló know, I looked again and again and you screwed up the game because I did not ask what it was, that's what he was expecting. Is that like that, uh, drop an incomprehensible explanation you ask "but what is that?" to gaze face of infinite pity and tell you that there is a screw loose as if you were explaining nuclear fission. However, just as masons and plumbers inspire me a fear almost cosmic proportions, the mechanics I like them. Especially since a Sunday, just before returning home after a conference, delco cap (yes, there!) Broke into a thousand pieces and I was drawn in the middle of the Plaza de Cáceres, and in walked Mr. Antonio, I did a workaround with some rags and took me to his house where his wife prepared me a sandwich for the road and forced him to call me every half hour to check that everything was fine. And not only that but I had to swear that he would call as he got home, there was to see JB's face when I heard talk on the phone and asked me who was speaking. Well, yesterday the mechanic was left without telling me what was the sinembló (that I will fall well but once you know what is a piece I do not like me to repeat it, I want news stories) and I took the car and I stood in the village so happy. The

glad I lasted as long as it took JB and I try to reach Fuengirola, because it was out of town and turn back on the pretty yellow light that announces the worst. And then the car he took to get in Camille plan and to slow a languid speed, and if she was fainting. And he fainted. And we left lying in a bad way, I was remembering the mother who gave birth to the sinembló thousand pairs of times.

walk back home, uphill, in full sun and when we got ready to take a nice cold shower. "Are the workers still here?" Asked entering the bathroom. "We aquii" answered the above to the choir "but look, you can piss quiet." This last was said a voice from a head sticking out slightly through the hole in the bathroom but I did not care a damn if they looked or not, I I just wanted a shower. As the workers from the pepinazo stuck in the bathroom walls have a constant gap, do nothing but get bugs, so I had not missed anything found two days before a Midianite gecko-white in the middle of the bathroom. Paquita I called. It gives me a tremendous shame because every time I see a lot gets scared and starts to shake but I get to be a little awkward because it does not find a suitable hiding place and I always find it: on the toilet paper, next to the toothbrush , curled up in my towel ... the suggestion of Chief Discarded crushing blows and throw it away (how I will kill her if she loves me, son medio primas de las salamandras, y llevo una tatuada en una pierna?) he optado por dialogar con ella. En realidad monologo porque hasta la fecha no me ha contestado ni mú. Ayer Kenya me pilló dándole varias razones por las cuales mi toalla no es el mejor sitio para vivir y me llamó friki. Menos mal que Bruno estuvo al quite y le dijo que más friki es ella, que charla con el pescado cuando lo pongo a descongelar en el fregadero. “Al menos ella habla con seres vivos” dijo Bruno. “Bah, para lo que le contestan…” Total, que allí estaba yo en el baño, siendo discretamente no-observada por los obreros, y peleando con una salamanquesa por la posesión de la toalla, cuando algo hizo “paf” and went off all household appliances. Paquita was a shock so great that it fell into the bidet has been lying there all night, that as you slide the legs can not go. And I was about to put myself to mourn at the thought of the many things that could have been escacharrado but I noticed that the blackout had been a general in the village. That I'm tired of preparing the holiday. Thankfully tomorrow I go because otherwise I would not last.

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But I've had very bad in another life

came yesterday and yesterday wanted to kill them all with the most painful death imaginable. And they still have at least three weeks. I do not know, I think this will end in tragedy.

all began nine months ago. One day the sky was covered, it started raining wildly, and it never stopped raining in six months. Some days it rained harder and others in an even more brutal, but for six months was falling water which is called "Costa del Sol." At first everything went fairly well. I had unearthed from the comfort of rubber boots and assumed no one look a bit complex Elizabeth II of England on holiday in Balmoral. I missed the horrible dogs only those buzzards always carrying pouch hung around and forearm. Both omissions were for obvious reasons, namely: the dogs because I have not and would not or crazy, and the purse because you have to see that thing more uncomfortable and ugly, by God. As between the boots, raincoat, and a golf umbrella that I bought last year not even half dipped me, that rain did not matter much. Moreover, I like the rain, I love rainy afternoons, those fireplace, book, TV, tea, muffins, cookies, digestive biscuits ... Sure, I like but in moderation, that is, when you've been two months and begin to hate even begin to replace sponges and green tea shot of brandy to cope with so much water. Until one day I went into the locker room looking for clothes for the next day and saw some strange spots on the roof. They were like the faces of Belmont but Martian version, or green and in a tone between pistachio and melon early. That alarmed me and I started to control its expansion and the possible emergence of new splotches. And indeed, soon all the upstairs ceilings turned green I want you green, and began to sprout a few colonies of molds capable of producing penicillin to control outbreaks of the third world for ten years. I understand that the same is true that I am a hysterical (that or I'm not kidding) and start to be alarmist, I'm big, but we must also understand that I am NOT Sponge Bob or Miss Marihache and NOT want to live in Home Sweet Pineapple under the sea as the Little Mermaid, and that's to find that my house is being possessed by the spirit of water for as I do not molo anything. But what is said nothing as I went anxiety attacks to the point of regularly inspect the children look for outbreaks of scales and gills, and once even thought to see Bruno in the little feet webbed. Yet even worse was to come. The worst was the technician's diagnosis that came to see how to fix that. The solution: remove the tiles, waterproofing the roof again, to asphalt and do not know what more stories, and rewoven with a new tile over concrete sea \u200b\u200bugly but they are so tough that you can walk quietly through the roof without fear of being broken ("mmm ... perfect ... because we do that every night the whole family up to the roof to see the sunset, too bad the irony of Kenya slipped by technical brain as if oil had been poured johnsons). That, and then paint the front with a rubber paint that seems, fix and paint the interior walls, and re-coat them with resin cement garden form. The coach spoke and I went on this side by adding money and most dangerous of all, adding time spent living with domestic workers, painters, and other herbs. When he finished he did not know if you throw on the balustrade of the garden (the garden is about three meters above street level), yelling and throwing liarme pluck hairs from the head as if possessed, or leave blank mind. At the end chose the latter as JB, with all the tranquility of the world, and bright eyes at the prospect of a work (how you like this man have home builders, it's almost a perversion) came to hire the firm work . As it was nearly five months ago I forgot. Yes, it was something I had to do, but in a distant time. The bad thing is that time passes, do you think you do not but pass, and pass over the run, and so, without being self conscious it came D-Day was yesterday.

day before yesterday I take the bus to the town, as usual, and nothing to get off the bus from the road, I see two figures on the roof of my house. I shivered slightly and I remembered something that JB had said the day before, but neither managed to make efforts to remember what he said, is that my mind has a marvelous ability (and autonomy, it decided it without me send it ) to mercifully forget what I do not want to archive. I went and walked around the house for the garden to get to the back, and indeed, as I feared, there they were, teaching agachaditos each half ass, I do not know how they do but what you put just put the pants always much below what my eyes prefer. It should be a subject of FP modules "constantly teaching her bank," and these had got an A, that instead of piggy bank that looked like the Bank of Spain. I looked at the third ass (this integer and familiar) and waved to Christ, who was delighted them talk. I identified myself as the owner of the house, which seemed to impose a damn, and I went to eat dragging Christ. And the day ended well. More or less. But I slept with a heart full of dark wishes, they would say the Greek poets.

Yesterday I got home all pert, thrilled because premiered supermona dress and I looked really cute, and I met with the builders that were in an SUV. I was surprised because I looked at fleeting expression, as if they had done something wrong, more with less with the same face that puts the dog to JB every time he gives to dig up plants (the dog, of course, JB is the plant and the mosque when the other out). But I was so happy that I took no more account and entered the home and in stampede by saying "I'm going to pee, I pee come (to see, what they want, each one at home speak as you wish), and prepare the food. " I missed the chorus of cries of "noooo, noooo, do not go to bañoooo" and answered "Of course I go, I pee" as he opened the door with a vengeance and I was petrified, as if the plaster to see just below sale a rectangular hole of the same length of the window and a foot high, all filled with rubble, soil, toilet, sink ... had stones in the glass to where I store the mandibular denture to sleep. "It does not say anything," Bruno whispered seconds before I began to scream. "But ... but ... But this is what ????" climbed all and JB looked at me undeterred by the cries. "Nothing, they were removing the tiles from the ledge and say that the wall was very thin and very poor and broken." "But ... but ... but ... if this did not have to play. " I noticed I began to hyperventilate. "Look at the vein, the vein looks!" Bruno whispered to Madagascar. "Hala, yes, you were right, you're going to burst" he replied in the same tone. "The truth is that the view from here is the coolest thing," Christ had come to climb the roof and the combination of more gap window gave us a framed view of their noble parts. JB I rubbed his shoulder. "Come, woman, why do not you you a week's vacation? "" Or three, "said Kenya.

I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for a Pajarraca messing but did not come, the cowards. Today they find out.