Centro de jardinería.
Having not been out of the house for what feels like ages, today I drove to my favourite garden centre to cheer myself up. First stop was for some dog treats; I had just put some in the trolley when the resident macaw walked round the corner and climbed aboard, intent on sampling the treats. Having crossed the path of this creature on a previous occasion, I swiftly returned the purchase to the shelf and made some tentative shooing motions to the bird, much to the amusement of other shoppers who were busy taking pictures on their phones. After investigating the contents on all the shelves, he eventually dismounted and climbed up a display of dog leads to peck. Moving outside to lust over plants, a selection of which somehow made it to the car boot later (surprise!), I initially was confronted by an elderly male nose-dangler and his nose-dangling wife, blocking the way and in no hurry to move anywhere despite my best glare; the one that silences unruly children at 30 paces but evidently is ineffective on Spanish OAPs. Apart from a young child making off with my trolley loaded with plants, mistaking it for a similar one belonging to his parents, the rest of the visit was uneventful. I lusted over the fine assortment of pots (extras) but didn't buy any as hugely expensive. Another encounter with the bird is here.
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