No Place I’d Rather Be

As of yesterday, we have officially been living in our new house in Palas de Rei for 3 weeks. And I forget that it’s only been 3 weeks. I tend to get impatient with myself for not getting more done. But, looking back, we have gotten a ton done, and I need to acknowledge it.

It can be frustrating at times working through all that is required of a move within Spain. But, this week, I’m checking many things off my list. Our itv appointment for the car was smooth as silk. Never let anyone tell you that you can’t arrive early for an appointment here. It’s my signature move. We got to the itv in Lugo 40 minutes early – before they opened. I went into the office promptly at 8am and explained how I know nothing about this process or what I should be doing. They were lovely. The ladies all gathered round and cobbled together their ingles. They laughed at my fumbling prolifically terrible Spanish and we all enjoyed my criminal verb conjugation. But I was all set and marched back to the car, where Jeff waited, like a pro.

They kicked off the touch free process initiating a text message telling me what door to enter. My new friends even let the attendant in bay numero 4 know that I was español challenged. As a result, he did most of the button pushing, steering my steering wheel, flashing my flashers, and testing my windshield wipers and lights. They took me in 30 minute early and we were in an out in less than 20 minutes. Easy peasy.

Looking around now, it seems few people actually put the sticker on their car. Hmm. For me, it’s a badge of honor that I could actually do it.

Afterwards, I dropped Jeff off at home and went into town to pick up some petrol for our new tractor. And to make a hair appointment for Jeff. His hair is outta control, but he is afraid to go to the guy who butchered my hair. Hence the cap for our walk into town the other day. I found him a guy and we will head into town this morning. His mood will improve significantly afterwards.

Then, I stopped into the last gestoria who hasn’t told me ‘No’ on helping us with our taxes. Sure, I was in my painting overalls and Converse tennies covered in old paintings, but I figured they should know the real me. The receptionist was so nice. Apparently, our attendance at the flute concert has not tarnished our reputation in town. Perhaps it has even greased the skids a bit. They sat me down with an accountant who speak ingles, and I now have someone who will do our taxes, and also, help me set up my business, so I am legally compliant when I become an autonomo. That’s self employed, to you and me.

‘If it is something we don’t do, we can coordinate it for you. No Problem.’ Monica, my new Galician accountant, told me. And that is just what I like to hear, ‘No Problem.’ Not an Impossible! in sight. I won’t lie. I kind of miss Gestoria de Dodgy in Benimachlet. But I think I will learn to embrace Monica.

I even picked up a cat bed at our new el Chino for our new friend, Catsworth. Or Caturbury. Or as I call him, Mr. Sir. Our neighbors cat visits us daily. He lounges on our garden furniture. I put out towels for him on a cold rainy day to snuggle into the lounger on the porch where it’s dry. He comes for his tuna. But I ran out so yesterday he got pate. Not his favorite. As ammends, I bought an official throne for him to sit on while he enjoys his daily feast.

‘See. Americans aren’t so bad.’ I told him, as I scratched behind his ears. He rewarded me with a ‘meow’ and stretched. I’d say he quite agrees.

Finally, I got home and decided to roll the dice on something that I have learned is going to hinder me on getting the vaccine. It seems, my Social Security has gotten messed up with our move from Valencia to Lugo. Jeff’s is fine but mine, we have been notified, is stuck in limbo. No digital signature can get it unstuck. But there have been no appointments to help unstick it.

Since my luck was going so good, I decided to log in with Jeff’s digital certificate and see what we could do. And there it was. An appointment for next Wednesday in Lugo at the Social Security office. Jeff will probably get called to get his Covid jab in the meantime. But this means I won’t be far behind. I want to get it as soon as possible so I can book Emilie’s trip to see us in July or August. She had the vaccine in the US months ago. But, we need to be protected before we can have guests. And the EU will open to all vaccinated tourists next month.

Things work out. They just do. And 3 weeks is nothing compared to the years and years we will live here. I need to remember that.

Today, I can smile as I hang my laundry out on the miles of lines I now have. Waving at the pilgrims who pass. It’s a sunny day. The Cuckoo birds are out, speaking clock. And there is no place I’d rather be.