The Germans have landed

The almond blossoms, the warm breezes, the sunny and lengthening days all herald the arrival of that mythical and fleeting creature… the German tourist. This spectacular creature has the amazing ability to know exactly when the weather will turn warm and arrives along with it. This is the only way I can explain that on the first day of actually warm weather I arrive at the bus stop to find the bus completely full with barely a seat left on it when in the weeks preceding it the bus has been nearly empty. And my previous joke about how I was coming to Mallorca to learn German may well pan out. Because that’s almost the only language I heard spoken today. A woman in a hiking crew asked me in broken Spanish if the bus I was getting on was the bus to Deia. Had I not recognized ‘a Deia’ I would have probably just told her to try it in German as we’d both have better luck with it.

I hurt. Everything hurts. I went into Soller and ran some errands while the stores were still open. I found a nice cheap hand mixer and a nice cheap toaster and then I met my aunt for a visit. We decided to take a walk, which sounded lovely, and I decided that the toaster was light enough to carry even though it didn’t fit in my backpack along with the mixer and my computer. We walked from Soller to Binarutx and back and then as it was after the 1:40 bus I proceeded to walk all over Soller trying to find the open stores so I could pick up a couple of kitchen tools at a cheap price and some ingredients to bake with now that I have a mixer. I then came home and after walking down to the clot I decided that it was time to reorganize the kitchen for the new kitchen implements. And now that I thought of it the floor was filthy and needed a good scrub, and look at all the dishes I didn’t do before I went out… etc. By the time I went out to take the trash to the nearest roadside bin, which is about a quarter mile up the road it was all I could do not to whimper. The stairs back up to the house seemed like a cruel joke and I think I’ve completely worn out my one set of comfortable walking shoes. I’ve certainly worn out my feet.

I seem also to have worn out my brain. I don’t think it was today that I wore it out. I think it’s been worn out for a while. It’s like I’ve had a separation of personality (Gemini jokes will be ignored) in which my ability to lead life and my ability to work are completely separate. When people ask me things about which I might have a professional opinion my opinion is entirely coherent and professional. (Despite a certain amount of disbelief I still harbor that I might be good enough at something to have a professional opinion about it.) My voice speeds up my tone gets authoritative and clear and people believe I know what I’m doing. More the fool they. When it comes to my personal life I’m completely lost. People ask me when I’m leaving or where I’m going next and I look at them as though that’s the hardest and most bizarre question ever, because that is essentially my feeling about it. I don’t know what I want to do nor do I have any idea what I may one day want to do. It all seems strange and ponderous and vague. Something to be dealt with when things make sense again, should that ever happen. A person getting irritated with me only perplexes me because I can’t quite put all the pieces together, and it’s too confusing to get upset about. There are too many moving parts and it makes me tired and oddly perplexed, though the tired part may be from all the walking.

I’m here and I should be going all the places I’ve always wanted to go… and other places that I’d never thought of but again, all those pieces; hotels and air fare and packing and taxies and languages and all those strange things. And there’s banana bread and cookies that could be baked, peppers to be stuffed and roasted, soup to be made. That makes much more sense.

I should have picked up muffin tins. Unfortunately I couldn’t find any.