Que paso a la siesta?

I'm not really sure if I wrote that right, my Spanish is awfully rusty, but what I mean to say is, "What happened to the siesta?" You know, the 1-2 hour rest time after lunch that many of our Latin friends hold dear. How is it that Americans totally missed out on the beauty of this schedule? When Reed and I were in Toledo (and several other places in Spain), everything closed at about 1 and didn't reopen until about 3 or so (time is also relative, there's no hard and fast open and closed time. They may as well say "Will return whenever I make it back.") Anyway, this beautiful afternoon found us in old Toledo and everything was closed. So we meandered our way around the El Greco museum we were wanting to tour and came across a great little park that overlooked Rio Tajo, the Tagus River. We walked past the kids eating their packed lunches, playing and talking, bought a bottle of Coke to share and found a shaded bench. I lay down and just soaked it all in. It was phenomenal! It is one of my favorite memories from our trip (the top one was eating tapas in the Plaza Mayor in Madrid).

Why these thoughts today?

Well, I'm glad you asked. See, the new owners of the house across the street are having foundation work done and there have been a handful of Mexican workers over there. They work hard, without a doubt, until about 11:30, at which time they pull out their painters' buckets and folding lawn chairs to eat their packed lunch on the front lawn. They then stretch their tired selves out on the grass or the driveway, even, and take a siesta. I see them as I'm making MaryEvyn her lunch and we sit eating it. I watch them and am taken back to that warm day in Toledo. Ah...to have that lovely time to enjoy and relax right smack in the middle of a long day. Perfection. Man, those Spaniards have it right, as do the laborers across the street. I mean, God rested, too, right? And it was very good!!