Birthday Presents (III), or, Speechless

That’s what I’ve been, embarrassingly, since Saturday, when a nice lady knocked on my door in the cold gray December rain and gave me this:

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The bag says “Unwined,” which is the last thing I am right now, thanks to the one and only Azahar-Sevilla, Queen of Tapas. You can read about how she made it happen here.

It’s been a little over six years since I met Az in the ether of the Internet. My gym friend Stiletto — long absent from the blogosphere, alas — lured me to the equally long lost blog of one Frontier Editor, and there was this person posting with the icon of a little black cat peering over a laptop, and how could I not click through?

We are so not alike. She gutsily left Canada and reinvented herself as an ex-pat in Spain; I’ve never lived more than a few miles from where I was born (unless you count college)  and since the century turned I refuse to travel at all. I’m butch

Elise Luftmann

and she is gracious and gentle,

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she loves Christmas and I’m a grinch who shrieks at the sound of jingle bells, she posts all these pictures of ham and I’m a vegetarian.

But none of that matters when you have a few important things in common: cats, a profound BS allergy, and a homing instinct for good food and wine. I still have a dozen or so recipes from her (surprisingly vegetarian-friendly) kitchen page on my to-do list. Sherry education has been promised. I humbly follow where she leads.

Love ya, Shawn. I promise — I’ve got my heat-transfer engineer on the job of accurate sherry chilling. Once he’s moved in. But that’s a story for another post…

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6 thoughts on “Birthday Presents (III), or, Speechless

    • The thing I love about this is that only a few years ago I know Az was on a yea tight budget, and now everyone wants to take her tapas tours and she can do this. I want a next chapter like that for everyone who is watching pennies and working hard.

  1. The thing I love is how only a few years ago the lovely Sled sent me donations to help with my cat’s operations and other health issues. Because she could. And wanted to.

    Now the tables have turned and – while I’m not exactly rolling in dough – guess what? I can afford a bit beyond paying the rent & bills, and also get to choose how I spend that extra mad money. This was as much a gift to myself as it was to my dear Sled. Because I was able to fucking do it! Love you, honey. xx

  2. Pingback: tbt | casa az

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