This is a card that works with a magnetic band and in that card it’s recorded my medicines. I have to take two kinds of medicines every day, one is one dose every morning before breakfast and the other one is one dose in the morning with my breakfast and another one with the dinner in the evening. And this is the one I’ve run out of, and it’s a pain reliever for a pain I am supposed to be in but no, only sometimes. And my mum is angry because I forgot to renovate the stupid card and now I have to wait til Monday and go to the doctor and have it renovated. Because without that card I can’t buy medicines.
I’ve spent New Year’s Eve and New Years Day in the countryside. I grew up spending all of my weekends and holidays at my grandparents’ farm and although the farm is no more, mainly because my granddad died many years ago, we still have the house. It’s a big family house, very cold and wet, but the kitchen is always warm thanks to the old cooker, the kind of cooker that still needs wood and fire. And I love it.
Growing up in a catholic country with three catholic grandparents and a mother who feared disappointing her own mother was tough. I had to do things I never wanted to do, not because I was particularly disobedient or rebellious, on the contrary, I was a shy girl with a book in her hands, sitting on the floor in a corner, that was me. I had to do things like going to mass every Sunday and pray there and read little gospel books that my granny gave me. And lives of the saints… actually those stories of saints doing things to achieve holiness were my first fantasy readings (oh please don’t laugh at me!). And of course a good catholic girl, at 8 or 9, must celebrate her first communion day. Continue reading
The year hasn’t ended yet and I’m already thinking and scheming new projects and plans and dreams for 2017. One of those dreams was to open a little place to meet my non Spanish-speaking friends and talk to them, share bits of this and that with them.
I have another blog in which I mainly talk about books but it’s in Spanish, even though I read books both in English and Spanish, I blog in Spanish. And when the book I would be talking about is in English and there is no Spanish edition, I always get the same comments: “My English isn’t very good, let’s hope that someone decides to bring it to Spain” and it gets even worse when the beautiful reader is from Latin America… most books are really difficult to find over there, but that’s a conversation for another day.