Feeling at Home by Maggie Scratch

 

 

 

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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?

Again? 

Yep!

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

France!

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

Katja

https://www.facebook.com/katja.rusanen

https://www.facebook.com/karmacleanse/?

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.

“Ringing Out Love” by Maggie Scratch

It’s Easter time again. Sure comes around fast, doesn’t it? Where were you last time this year? I wasn’t here in Saint-Alban. I never would have imagined last year I would be where I am now. It never entered my head. How would I know I would be in these farmlands with pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago? Pay attention I tell myself now. Pay attention to your life as it is. The secrets are there in the obvious. Who knows where you will be in one year? Surrounded by love hopefully!

 

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!

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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!

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The Butler!

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The Minister of Defence!

 

 

 

 

This Way Please by Maggie Scratch

This is my Norwegian Family

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!

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Øyvind                                                                  Milla                                                                            Sadie

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This is ekte vare, ‘the real thing,’ organic dream come true!

You’re in my heart.

I’m there in spirit.

Grandma kisses you!

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On the Road in Oslo by Maggie Scratch

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It was after showing dozens and dozens of baby pictures to Gabriela as we ooooed and ahhhhhed our way through my new granddaughter’s amazing features, that she spotted this pic and insisted I post it. So, okay. I love good graffiti, I love Bansky, I’m obsessed with documenting the moment. Sadie and I were walking to Wayne’s Coffee and when I saw that wall I asked her to stop a minute under the hot sunny Norwegian sky. Capture the moment, I thought. I really am here! I’m in Oslo! I’m walking down the road with my daughter and my granddaughter as if it were the most natural thing to do. Everything comes back to me! The heat, my daughter’s shining face, beautiful little Milla tucked into the Angel Pack, the warm love, the motherhood, the daughterhood, grandmotherhood, babyhood, childhood, writerhood, backpackinghood…it’s all there, in this picture. Oslo. I flew there, I lived there, I loved there, I worked there, I slept there, I ate there, I walked there,  I walked in the Norwegian woods with my family, there I was, I was there!

Going to Norway by Maggie Scratch

Thanks to the acupuncture expertise of Dr. Guix

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I have a good, strong ankle, ready to trod upon Norwegian soil.

Ready to occupy Mormor detail and help my daughter at beck and call.

To hold the precious bundle of joy that is Milla, my granddaughter!

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Third generation, full of mother’s milk, a mix of many miracles

and Stardust genes.

We are Stardust daughters!

Borrowed cells of Time and Space —

beginnings!

Here’s my prayer to the Vueling Gods:

Let me fly!

Let me land!

Let me greet my family!