Country kids for a day

Yesterday we spent the day with our friends Beatriz and Salvador at Beatriz' country house.  It's not unusual here in Spain for city folk to have a separate country house, usually one that's inherited from not-too-distant country mouse ancestors.  Spaniards often use these houses like vacation homes, going to them on weekends and during summers. Beatriz' place isn't too far from Málaga, and it's pretty much a working farm - her dad tends the land full time, and there are sheep, chickens, and hunting dogs, as well as vineyards, vegetable gardens, and small fruit orchards.  It's quiet out there, and the views are stunning in every direction.

Of course, we did what we could to shatter the quiet, because that's what young people are for!

First, we played some basketball. Salva showed off his dunking skills.

Then we took a dip in the pool.

Then we took a walk down a little trail and had ourselves some country kid snacks - here we're eating plums right off the tree.

And we plucked some not-too-ripe almonds and broke the shells open with rocks:

And we ate out of a big bucket o freshly picked pears.

We took the country dog along for company.

Then we fed the chickens and collected eggs from the quail.  When I took this picture, they were still hot in my hand, and I prefer not to think about the mechanics behind that.

Every country outing needs a banjo, so we produced the next closest thing: Spanish guitars. I know I say that The Mister is a rock star, but my friend Salva is a real, actual rock star.  His band signed a few months ago with Universal Records, and his first single debuted on the radio last week.  So he and The Mister had quite the jam session.

And then we went to bed and slept the sleep of the righteous, or whatever they call it. 

I blame it on all the fresh air and sunshine.