Well, Toad promised he would report on the meeting of the aged near Saldaña yesterday.
Not much to report, though. Reb, myself and a lady who had lived in Barcelona virtually all her life, having left Palençia at seven, I think, and recently returned, did most of the talking, which she clearly enjoyed, sat in a row facing about seventy locals with about ninety-five walking sticks between them. Remarkable number of men, considering. Roughly half, I'd say.
The lady from Cataluña reckoned that Palençia was nice, the people here were nice, the quality of life here was nice, the tranquillity here was nice. In fact, everything here was nice. We both agreed. The audience agreed, and rattled their sticks to show it.
We all also agreed that Barcelona and London and Pittsburgh are not as nice. Unless you are under about seventy.
We both managed to handle the language reasonably well, or so the audience assured us. Probably just being nice.
This orgy of niceness took about two hours. Then Reb and I took off to Sahagun for gin and tonics, as soon as was decent.
The drinks were nice.
The Inn and the Stable: an Advent meditation by Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen - Every artist has the feeling of being at home in his studio, every patriot at home in his own country, and every man at home in his house. One should there...
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