| With both my mother and I out of the country my father is rambling around our reasonably sized suburban home with no one to fend for him. He's recently become quite concerned with our safety. He told me there was some crime in Barcelona and he wanted to know if it was a “safe city”. Barcelona is not New York in the 1980's. I'm sure there is crime. I live in a nice residential high rise, a ten minute metro ride from the most expensive shopping district in Catalonia. I'm not sure what he thinks is going to happen. My mother and I don't PARTY or snort cocaine. We might get a sunburn, but we have sunblock so I'm not worried. |  The Barcelona Cathedral |
Apparently, the dog is sleeping on the bed. My bed? His bed? The mother's bed? I don't know. I'm supposing the dog is happy. My father tends to spoil him, which is great for the dog. I'm happy for him and he'll be supremely disappointed when we return and he's not allowed on the furniture anymore.
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