When I hit the jet bridge, I was met with the sweltering heat of summer (again). In the peak of holiday season, I have had a month away and my skin is an alabaster sign that I'm new here.
Except I'm not, and I am.
In thirty-two hours I've been to the grocery, renewed my gym membership, picked up the gifts of onion and cheese pastries from the shop across the street, and successfully navigated our out-sourced house cleaning. Laundry is in progress. I've made two meals today along with my cafe con leches.
I'm less than an hour from sunset and Spanish is retreating from the front of my head to the back, needing rest and a reprieve from conversation. Language stamina is the part that comes back slowly and I'm reminded again that I'm new.
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