Today we learned that the Iglesia de Merced for which our Posada is named was setting off fireworks at random hours to either pay homage to or attract the attention of saints, Given that the explanation was given in rapid Spanish, it's also quite possible that the man I was speaking to said "did you know you are attractive"; my Spanish fluency, depending on my level of exhaustion or distraction, is either somewhat impressive or leads to interesting conversations in which I ask someone how long their child is and what towel they wear.
Madelena has been amazing - flirting with everyone, walking to strangers with her arms up to be picked up, snuggling into my chest and patting my arm as we walk through the cobblestone streets. Her arms are super stretchy, seeming to reach at least four feet at every table with hot plates, salsas, wine glasses or squishable food on it; her humor is dry, witty and occasionally she allows herself the slapstick moment when she pretends to drop a leaf over and over, as if it were not in her full control to grab it and eat it at her whim as she has illustrated so many times before.
We are enchanted. We are in love. We are joyful while being sick at the thought of leaving her. She is beautiful and loving and sweet and demanding. She is a force to be reckoned with, and already knows that she is not one to be confined to any playpen - the world and all its people and things are her playpen and toys to be kissed and petted and thrown down with a cocky little laugh as she throws back her head and grins at her good fortune.
She is Madelena Sofia Wheeler Fleury. And damnit, she's ready to show Oakland and the greater United States what she's all about.
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