We spend our days walking.
We spend our walks talking.
We start slowly with many cups of coffee, perhaps a scone , then bundle up against the winter wind and off we go.
Some days, lately, have been bright and sunny and not quite so cold.
Those are the days that lift spirits that are a wee bit low from what seems like an endless winter.
Plans and anticipation for other places and other people cause anxiety and restlessness, best fought off by long walks and stops for hot tea and perhaps something sweet.
Evenings are spent with movies, catching up on last years Masterpiece Theatre, last years BBC specials and a few bloodthirsty television shows from Fox.
We snuggle in with pillows and soft blankets and watch television in a dark room.
We could be anywhere, New York, Florida, Oregon, but we are in Buenos Aires... Argentina.
Today gave a small hint of Spring .. there were more flowers in the trees and bushes.
I thought I found a cherry tree, covered in pink flowers, beautiful.. full of promise of warm sunny days .
The big, fat, white clouds skid across these impossibly blue skies , it is chilly but you can sit at a cafe outside and turn your face to the sun and close your eyes and know it won't be long.
Summer will be here before you know it.
The birds are busy.
Doves are building nests outside the neighbours windows.
Parrots come down the boulevard, squawking and carrying on , now they like the tree outside our living room window.
I have lived here for over 5 years now, I still get excited when I see bright green parrots in the Plane trees outside the living room window.
The trees used to cheer me, they look so Paris-like.
Plane trees, planted here by plan by a Frenchman who lived here, worked here, planned parks and avenues and is buried here, in one of his parks.
Now the Argentine parrots live in the trees .. while ex-pats look out the windows and admire them.
I comfort myself with the chore of storing away all the memories as best I can, in photographs and writing it all down.
Some day, I will be so glad that I did.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."