How did 2 weeks go by since my last post, and me with nothing to say? Well, we changed schools, had a garage sale, sprained a 3-year-old wrist, conducted a survey, painted the house, and got haircuts.
And I'm still on my diet. Yesterday I reached for a slice of french bread as I was serving dinner to the boys, and Louis said in a horrified voice, "no, mommy, don't eat it!!!". How does a 3-year-old know I'm on a diet?
A zaguán is the entryway into a house. In typical Andalusian houses, the zaguán is a smallish, dark passage inside the doorway that leads in turn to the larger, light-filled interior patio. In Seville, in the heat of summer, zaguán doors are left open so that passersby can take refuge from the sun and heat for a moment before continuing on their way.
We live in the Sunset district of San Francisco, where the fog wins out over the sun most days, and the search for refuge from the heat is a distant memory. Even so, we would like to share our home with you and our stories of growing up in Seville and growing up in San Francisco.