Yup, we moved to Spain!

Kind of. We're here, but it looks like it'll be a while until we're settled. We knew this move would be a cosmic lesson in patience. Patience, to us, is waiting more than four or five minutes for our order to be taken at a restaurant. Here in Madrid, if you don't have 2 hours for a quick lunch, forget it. So we should have known there would be complications: a broken dishwasher, washer, dryer, oven, alarm system, window shutters, and elevator. It's really hard to move to the top floor of a building without an elevator. Movers here have nothing to prove and wouldn't dream of walking a feather duster, let alone a sleeper sofa, up 6 flights of steps. They'd rather smoke a pack and enjoy some wine with their lunch while they wait for the elevator. Three hours later, when swearing in several languages erupts, they smile, as if to say, it wouldn't be a day at the office if someone weren't swearing at me in a foreign language. Luckily the Spanish place no value on an even temper. Pass the Rioja.