The morning comes too early –why I can’t be a farmer

Morning has been coming too early this week. I think the harshest punishment you could give a prisoner would be to make them wake up at 5:00am every morning and run for three miles. After their run, they would be allowed to smell coffee and watch other people drink it in front of them. They couldn’t have one drop. We’d call it the morning torture. Could you hear the cries of agony? “No, not the morning torture, not this early, what is that smell? No, s-t-o-p. Just a little drink–I can’t take any more, put me in solitary confinement anything but this! NOOOOOO!”

My youngest son has been waking up early this week to give him a head start on his crabbiness. Okay, I’m the one who’s crabby. I try to reason with him, and explain to him that it’s just too early, that unless you need

Return Line in Spain

I hated returning anything in Spain. Customer service is nonexistent when you want to spend money–hopeless if you are returning something. The customer is never right; the customer is barely important. You can find quality, but sometimes it might take a few tries. I still miss Spain and love the Spanish people, but I don’t miss shopping in Spain–I miss the fresh bread, coffee and chocolate–but not the shopping experience.

If you want to match a color, make sure you have enough paint.

We were so relieved in our first few months in Spain when