May [Mayo] 2026
Man, May felt like it just zipped by. The weather got super hot for a week there, but we're back down in the 70s (or teens and 20s, if you're into Celsius , which I am not... the metric system is definitely superior to imperial, but Fahrenheit will always be The Way to gauge air temp) now and it is glorious. We were busy with the steady rhythm of daily life, but we also hit some big milestones. We celebrated Beau's birthday on the 4th—the big 44!—keeping things simple and cozy with a quiet steak dinner at home with the family. Shortly after, we marked 17 years of marriage on the 15th.
We got to have a afternoon at the home of our lovely expat friends who have a beautiful house just outside the town proper. They have a pool, which made the kids happy, and the conversation in English (yay!) was a rare delight. They made some amazing South African food for us including this traditional dessert that's this creamy sort of tart (I think it's actually called Melktert) that was so frickin good I could have eaten it all myself and felt zero guilt.
Our huerta (vegetable garden) is flourishing beautifully, largely thanks to our friends whose experience and kindness have been invaluable to us. We've got potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, lettuces, watermelons, squashes, and more in the ground. And more to come! It has been a tremendous amount of work getting it all up and running, with Beau doing most of the literal heavy lifting, but even the kids chipping in. A major highlight this month was finally getting water for our reservoir (balsa). It uses a gravity-fed system of channels that dates all the way back to the Moors, which is pretty cool to see in action.
To round out the month, Robert got to play a song on stage for a local talent show (I'll post the video in the photo album). It was part of a small fair celebrating the local patron saint, which was really just a warm-up for the upcoming Saint Medardo festivities this weekend.
It’s going to be a huge, four-day weekend packed with music (Beau is actually doing the lighting for the acts!), dancing, food, a soapbox car race, traditional stick dances, and a Pastorada. The Pastorada is, essentially, the last 12 months of local gossip delivered entirely in rhyme. A little jovial roasting of the townies occurs, and I think I'm just going to skip that part. You can bet that, in a town this small, an American family moving in is definitely on the list for roasting. I, for one, don't want to be publicly humiliated in a language I barely speak—I don't care if it means the town has accepted us!
But I do look forward to writing about the rest of the weekend. It's going to be a good one.
Love to all.
Photos are up in the album!


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