Snow and cold

Another reason madrileños are called "gatos"....

This was the view outside my kitchen window this afternoon.  The white streaks that may be barely visible (depending on the size screen you're viewing this on) are not dirt on my kitchen window (I have nice clean windows, thank you).  They are fat, wet, almost snow-flakes, falling toward the ground (where they melt on contact, leaving the street all wet, but not frozen).

My across the street neighbor has just raised the shutter and opened the window, and is standing in her window smoking, and leaning out the window looking down at the street with an expression of disgust.  Two boys are huddled under the portico (just to the left of the picture frame) busily on their phones, with their coats pulled up around their ears, absolutely refusing to go out.


My phone has been giving "snow warnings" for this evening, while simultaneously forecasting a low of 1 degree Celsius.  I still think that someone needs to give Spaniards The Talk about where snow comes from, and explain that unless it is zero degrees Celsius or below, there will not be snow.  There may be the kind of big sloppy white streaks in the sky that are making my neighbors unhappy, but there will not be any need for a "snow warning."  Madrileños are supposedly called "gatos" because they go out at night (though that's more in the summer, when only going out at night is a reasonable adaptation to the temperature).  I've said before that I think the term "gatos" is also applicable because by and large they are a good looking people, with a certain natural elegance.  I will now add that they are very feline in the way their approach to precipitation.  If it's wet and cold, it's snow.  And it should stop being snow, sooner rather than later, because getting feet wet is Not An Option.

I wouldn't mind going out in this in normal circumstances, though it's not precisely inspiring weather, but I have managed to catch a cold while at the Fulbright Mid Year Meeting in Salamanca over the least three days (updates on Salamanca to follow shortly), and I am currently nursing a sore throat with fresh fruit and hot drinks.  I have nowhere to go, and I cleverly did food shopping for the weekend when I got home yesterday evening, so there is chicken soup or fricasse in my near future, and I can be a proper "gato" and keep my feet dry and hopefully regain my voice by Wednesday, when I have my next work commitments.

Having a cold stinks.  On the upside, floppy, wet, snowflakes are pretty when you don't have to go out in them, and you have nice fresh strawberries and avocados to keep you company, and plenty of lemon and honey for tea.