Yes, I am here at home. No, I did not take a quick trip to Spain.
It will not be me sipping rioja on marble-tiled plazas, eating slice after slice of ham.
I will not be shopping in the market for the produce and fresh fish every morning, or going to the bakery on the corner 5 minutes before lunch will be served to get hot bread.
No high-speed train trips, gothic cathedrals, or slate-roofed castles.
No tapas of aged cheese marinated in olive oil, or purchasing of homemade sweets from the convent down the street. No jasmine and bougainvillea decorating every garden wall or red geraniums in painted pots on balconies.
Travel safely and hurry home, boys. Luisito and I miss you. In the fog.
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.