S played a video of Okkervil River’s “A Girl in Port” and I said “we’ve been to that beach,” but it’s an Italian beach in the video, and the beach I’m thinking of is south of Barcelona, and it doesn't look like that after all.
We spent a week in Barcelona when M was two--we were in England and wanted to go on vacation, and it seemed like a good place for a two year old, which it was: a park every three blocks, a zoo, Gaudi and Miro, bird cages on La Rambla, the beach.
“A Girl in Port” is almost unbearably romantic.
I’m thankful for Okkervil River, and the beach, and Barcelona, and Mike Lowell, and the fact that in 424 days we'll have a new president who I probably won't like much but will not like much less than this one.
(And, of course, for all the standard stuff: family, friends [very much so, my friends], work [enough work, finally, more than enough work, and good work!], health--actually, I am truly and alertly thankful these days for all of those things, standard though they may be.)
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