“I love to walk in Benimussa with Baloney. We take our time, smelling the earth and the trees and when it’s hot, we can smell gas burning in the sun. In Elkins Park, we always had a dog. I grew up with Ginger Peachy and Georgie Girl and they were lovable, but they were family dogs. Baloney has only Izzy and me. She’s great company. She stays with me and runs away and comes back. She always comes back. Baloney’s famous in Benimussa. She can visit someone in the valley on a rainy day with a note tied on her collar in a plastic bag and come back with a message.”
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.
I’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.
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!
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!
Shakespeare’s Good Man!
This is my Norwegian Family
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!
Øyvind Milla Sadie
This is ekte vare, ‘the real thing,’ organic dream come true!
You’re in my heart.
I’m there in spirit.
Grandma kisses you!
Thanks to the inscrutable Jennifer Camacho
If you live in one of these towns, or if you’re just passing through, you might enjoy a quiet pitstop.
Or you can shop online.
Give these Indies some support!
The new Amazon!
Thanks to the acupuncture expertise of Dr. Guix
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!
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 —
Here’s my prayer to the Vueling Gods:
Let me fly!
Let me land!
Let me greet my family!
I happen to have a sprained ankle. I’m in my pajamas. I know I should have retired by now, but it’s too late. The school term just ended. Do you know the expression “Limping to the finish line?” Well, that’s me. I’m not a limper by nature and believe me, I don’t like it. The ankle in question has had me in a spin. And I’ve been spinning, and I mean schlepping, until tonight. And what a night! Dusk! Magical and golden! It’s that pink fairy dust from San Francisco! Of course, the full moon will be coming out and waking me up, but I hope not too soon. I love to watch the gold sky lighting up the dusk. It’s so calm and relaxing. I had a hard day. That’s why I’m in my pajamas, because of all the schlepping. I’m beat. I’m exhausted. I’m done. Wherever you are, if you’re NOT in Barcelona, I’ll tell you what you’re NOT missing. Schlepping on the streets of Barcelona, with a bad ankle— can kill ya!
Pure Pain Tiles
with Nike Free
There are so many people who make up the past.
There are hundreds of photos and faces.
Golden moments and all kinds of places.
But the people I knew in Ibiza,
where I grew up,
is a special place in my heart.
I’m going back there tomorrow
here are just a few memories
to scratch the surface,
it’s a start!
See you at Libro Azul on Friday!
Speaking of BFF’s, it’s not that usual to meet one later on in life. The word Forever gets shorter and shorter. But, sometimes you get lucky. The girl next door actually moves in— next door! It’s a miracle! It’s amazing! It’s divine! She pops into your life, sizzles, dazzles, becomes your wished-for- sister. It’s all too good to be true! She tells you (in the mornings!!!) at the elevator how guapa you are. After work, dead on your feet, she makes you Pollo con Pomodoro and gives you a glass of wine — surprise! She’s there! She’s home next door! And if you need a digital hand in that digital foreign land, she’s young, she’s smart, she’s ready to help! Her brain never stops, she’s fast, what a wit! She liked the idea—Bookfiti? Yes! Let’s leave a trail of … a page, a chapter, a printed something somewhere, everywhere, anywhere, wherever we go! Like now, here she is, in the days before she moved away again, leaving a piece of Maggie Scratch, like Kilroy— in Paris!