A Day With Marie by Maggie Scratch

This is what happens when you spend the day with Marie.

She makes things come alive.

And then she takes you for a drive.

Rain, snow, hail around us.

Marie turns on the radio.

Debussy sounds like Erik Satie.



We talk of love.

“Love and Peace,” she says.

We arrive at our destination.

La vieille jument is waiting for us.

The old brown mare.

We have brought her favorites, carrots, and a bag of dry bread.

Marie stands under an umbrella, I have worn my hat.

She wants to take my picture, feeding the old brown mare.

When all the bread is gone

and the mountain hail is strong

we climb back in the car.

Marie rolls down the window and pulls up to speak to the horse.

Hail stones fly into the car, everything is wet.

We’re not cold, we’re happy, but when I mention it,

what does Marie have to say?

“No problem! It will dry!”


TalkingLaughingMarie and Me


Maggie Scratch on the Camino

El Camino de Santiago


Mr. ED

It’s a long story about a horse. His name was Quel Ami, What a Friend! I called him Mr. Ed. He didn’t talk, not like humans do, but he spoke to me and I spoke to him. I’m not a usual animal-bonder, I have my preferred pets, my only ones, the ones I love forever. I didn’t know Mr. Ed would become one too. I was on the way down the Camino to see him like I did every day, only this time I had an apple in my pocket and that’s when I met Marie. I was headed to the spot where I took his picture only the day before, and I’m lucky to have it, because Marie told me, “Quel Ami est mort!” It’s a long story about a horse, but in the end, Marie and I have bonded, thanks to Mr. Ed. She loved him too! We miss him, el caballo solitario del camino, the Camino where magical moments happen, El Camino de Santiago.


Feeling at Home by Maggie Scratch





Merci beaucoup a Rocio, grandmother, Nais, daughter and Kiliana granddaughter

It isn’t every day that people take me into their home, but when they take me into their hearts, that’s feeling at home.

Feeling wanted, feeling loved, feeling like I belong.

I’ve been a foreigner half my life, I’ve learned to live outside the klan, to find my own tribe’s drum.

But what—here I am!

Here I go?



Couldn’t deny the opportunity to live in a new country.


People are people all over the world.

It’s the heart that counts.

Like Keb Mo says,

“It’s becoming clear I can feel it down in my soul.

I know that I am you and you are me.”

I like this way to live.

It’s a good way to be.



Do You Get the Picture? by Maggie Scratch




I’ve heard you can tell everything about a person by the face. I never really considered this before now. I might go one step further and say, by the eyes. Do you have a calling? Some of us have careers. I think a calling can become a career but I’m not sure if all careers are callings? In Katja’s case, whether you look at her face or her eyes, it’s clear. She has been called upon to follow the path she loves. “Live the Loving,” was her message to me. Well, one of her messages. We flew through Time and Space in Barcelona, on a sofa, side by side, on a hot day in Las Corts. We could have been in Pennsylvania, in Timbuctoo, or in Tibet. I came to have my karma cleansed, or better, “realigned.” Spiritual realignment, yes, why not? I’ve been to a chiropractor to realign my bones. But what about the part of me that I can’t see? I know it’s there, that heart-part, that spirit, that soul, why does it feel so out of tune? Out of shape?  Out of place?  I thought Katja might help shed a little light on this karma of mine. She has no idea what she did. She pulled a name out of my heart. The name of a friend I wanted to make peace with.  I wrote to this friend in my notebook: “What’s the problem?” I asked. “Live in the loving,” I told her. “Forgive me, I forgive you, let’s be friends again.” I had no idea she was dying. She died the next day.

Peace by Maggie Scratch

I’m in a sleepy old town in La Lozère region of France. Saint-Alban-sur-Limagnole. I arrived like a can of coca cola. It’s not easy to get the city-fizz out of my brains, it’s been running through my veins for thirty-two years. I tried to post my road movies leaving Barcelona, but from sleepy little Saint-Alban my videos don’t go through.

I’m surrounded by green.

I have time.

I go for walks.  I spend hours alone.

I live simply, in silence, I can write.  I can think!

“Thinking is a luxury!” A philosopher once told me.chemin-de-st-jaques



It’s Not That I’m Saying Goodbye by Maggie Scratch

Kasia and Me.jpgI’m leaving Barcelona, but I’ll be back.

There’s always so much work to do.

Spread the word!

The soul is love!

Have fun, be a friend, be a buddy, pass on the good stuff.

Here’s Kasia from Warsaw with a world of words in her head.

 Polish!  German! English! Spanish! And Catalan too!

A culture-bug-bookworm with Master’s Degrees!

Linguistics! Communication! Philology!

What does all this mean?

Find your path and hit the road.

Dig in.

There’s gold in our roots.

I’m getting my boots on.

I’m ready, let’s go!

Every step we take, here we are!

My Piece of the Sky by Maggie Scratch

1499464_10202313805982579_863405162_nI can see the sky from my roof.

Another year of seeing the sky.

Another year to look at beautiful things.

Another year to think.

Another year to laugh.

Another year to love.

To be loved.

To be amazed.

To be crazed.

And dazed.

It’s all so precious.

So delicate.

Such a fight!

To get to the good stuff.

To…see the light!

Happy New Year to You!

Happy New Year to me!

Another year of reprieve!


I Stand Up For Everything Standing Rock Stands For by Maggie Scratch

I’m so low tec, it’s very inconvenient, but I couldn’t help myself, I started a “Community” page in Facebook called Global Support For Standing Rock. Right this minute, I’m sure the fate of Standing Rock, North Dakota is connected to the fate of my granddaughter in Norway where drinking water is still good. I’m digging up all the information I can from my apartment in Barcelona. I’m updating daily, sometimes on a totally OCD track. I need to keep track of water. I love water. I have lived without water. I know what it means to save every drop of water. If I could, I would buy a thousand bottles of Figi. Hey, there’s a good deal on at Amazon! Don’t miss it! Twenty-four 16.9 ounce bottles of Figi for only $34.50!

https://www.facebook.com/Global-Support-For-Standing-Rock-1846846458932140Screen Shot 2016-12-02 at 13.59.02.png

Is Caspar Still the Star-Crossed Mystery Man? by Maggie Scratch

It’s not every day I’m in the presence of Caspar. When I am, I don’t skip a beat. I can’t!

His wit! His information!  His jokes! Our ping-pong-cinema-trivia game!

It’s all too fast for me. I don’t even try to write it down. What? Take notes during a conversation with Caspar? Impossible! I don’t want to miss a word! I’m all ears and eyes, what will he say next? What will he write? Horror, comedy, religion, death? Will it be scary  and bloody too?

Caspar The Aristocrat!

!casp escapade.jpg

The Butler!


Shakespeare’s Good Man!20161015_211232.jpg

The Minister of Defence!