Six months in and I am noticing the differences in me, some subtle, all curious.  For instance, I saw a dog loose in China Town the other day and thought to myself “Un perro?”, and I’ve all but replaced mayonnaise with green mojo (pronounced moho) (Canarian sauce flavoured of green pepper and coriander) – indeed there hasn’t been Hellmann’s in my apartment for weeks!  I’m eating between three and seven eggs a day though, is this a Hellmann’s withdrawal symptom?  Should I email them and ask?

And then there’s my inability to cope with cold weather; if it drops to 13 degrees of an evening I’m in jeans and wearing a scarf and contemplating earmuffs.  I used to go out in short shorts in Bristol in the winter; in this aspect, living in Tenerife has broken me.

I’ve started talking to myself about clouds and wind, the RYA books are not only making sense, but I’m enjoying applying them to life.  When I’m out running I’m not paying attention to Britney or Pink shouting in my ear, I’m estimating the percentage cloud cover and distance between land and cloud versus cloud depth to predict rain.  I have also caught myself starting conversations with people about whether the wind is changing direction significantly enough such that planes will be landing in the other direction at the airport.  And then I’m chuffed when I see I’m correct.

I think we can safely say my Credit Derivatives geekiness has found a new home.

I’ve also adopted a wild cat, she lives in my chimney and occasionally comes down to spy on me from atop my kitchen cupboards.  I leave food for her and clean her tray, and she hisses at me when I get too close; I assume she knows all the bad Spanish words from her time on the streets and will teach them to my pedigree lady cat.  But it’s a brave new world, and I’m embracing the change.

p.s. Fear not, wine friends, I have located somewhere near me which sells prosecco, I’m not a convert to cava.  Yet.