Su Alteza Real

(Plasterwork outside the Mausoleum in Rabat, Morocco)

Julia went out right before lunch today and said to eat whenever I wanted, so this time, I took the hint, and ate right away. She had left out beef stew, which was really good, and it was nice to just be able to read while I ate. Once late afternoon hit, I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood and looked up where the closest grocery stores are - where else would I walk to? I found one and headed on over. Grocery stores are wonderful - I wandered the aisles just looking at all the different foods (the crackers that they pretend are cookies, the hot dogs in jars, the eggs that they keep on un-refrigerated shelves). I think a security guard was following me, as I was looking awfully suspicious just standing in aisles looking at things. They don't seem to do such things in Spain. Come to think of it, maybe they don't do such things in America, either. . .

So I found myself looking for Nutella, which, for some reason, wasn't there, and I was crouching on the floor deciding whether I should get an all chocolate spread or a swirled chocolate and almond spread. I had been there for a while and was holding one jar in each hand. My nose was sniffly and then the song "Everybody Hurts" came on the sound system. I pitied myself for a moment there. So I quickly decided the chocolate and almond spread would do and headed over the cashier. Afterwards I wandered the area some more, found a couple of potential restaurants, and then headed back to Julia's.

Here's where it starts to get good. Julia came back at about 9 and we sat down for dinner. I asked where she had been all day and she said she had been at the anti-abortion demonstration in downtown Madrid (over 1 million people showed up - it was on the news and everything) and then went to the airport. I asked her why she went to the airport and she said that her niece and her niece's husband and son were flying in from Italy. I've heard talk of this niece - she's Alexandra's sister, recently got married, recently had a baby, and now lives in Italy. So I asked Julia how old her grand-nephew is, and she replied, only 8 months. So here's how the conversation went:

I asked, "What's his name?"

She replied, "Principe Francesco."

I thought that was cute and said, "Aw, like all little boys,"

She responded, "No, that's his actual name."

Me: "He's a prince?"

Julia: "Yes."

Me: "So his mother. . . is a princess?"

Julia: "Yes."

Me: "Was she a princess before or after she got married?" (I needed to see if there were any queens in the family)

Julia: "After. She married a prince."

I then asked, "Where is she the princess of?"

Then I thought she misunderstood me and instead responded with her name: "Cecilia,"

I said, (trying to get some brownie points): "My confirmation name is Cecilia,"

She said, "What?"

I said, "Wait, what is Cecilia?"

Julia: "An island near Italy"

Me: "Oh, you said Sicily. . ."

Turns out, Sicily and Cecilia sound awfully similar in Spanish. Here's how that last part would have gone if I spoke Spanish:

Me: "Where is she the princess of?"

Julia: "Sicily"

Me: "Really? I've heard of that island that has nothing to do with my confirmation name,"

Julia: "Have you? It's just beautiful there,"

Me: "Yes, quite charming, I hope to buy a palace there one day,"

So we continued to talk about her family (the whole family has a Spanish title, apparently) and I remembered that she had said a few weeks ago that I should meet her 8-month-old grand-nephew (who I know now to be the Prince of Sicily). I really wish babies didn't scream when they came near me - I wouldn't want to upset a Royal Highness, even a small one.

Other fun tidbits I learned about Julia: her sister is friends with my Countess' sons and tomorrow Julia's asking her sister for the Countess' address!! Also, her sister used to be best friends with Jackie Kennedy. The Jackie Kennedy. Julia says the Kennedys are very down-to-earth. Good to know. I suppose I could do worse than marrying a Kennedy. . .