Sunday September 15 I am sitting on the patio at our farmhouse in Las Alpujarras. As I write I can hear the clanging of goat and sheep bells across the way as the dogs keep watch from the hill just in front of me. There are baby goats that continue to call to their mothers and a gentle breeze stirs the wisteria leaves above my head. This is what I have longed for - when I can't sleep at home I often visualize this setting and it calms me. Back to Granada...after we napped Friday evening, we climbed up to the Albaicin section of the city. This was the old Moorish neighborhood, dating back to the 11th century, and the narrow cobbled streets wind up and up past white-washed houses. As we climbed there were taxis
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