Category Archives: Grist for the Mill

roving1 /ˈrəʊvɪŋ/ adjective 1. constantly moving from one area or place to another. This morning, I asked someone how was your zoom?, a question that would’ve been nonsensical a year ago. A year ago — back when normal was just normal, instead of the “new normal,” which isn’t normal at all, no matter how weContinue reading “Roving”

The traditional Semana Santa processions couldn’t happen last week for the second year in a row, so Madrid came up with new rituals. Since the pasos, the elaborate floats that depict the Passion of Christ, weren’t allowed to come to the people through their usual parades, the people made their way to the pasos, onContinue reading “Waiting(La Espera)”

This morning I made it out of the house early, leaving a cup of coffee half-drunk and the article in El Pais that reported that only half the over-80 population of Spain is vaccinated mostly unread. Spring has come, with a vengeance, and it’d be a shame to waste the morning on the endless frettingContinue reading “Mrs. Dalloway Said She Would Buy The Flowers Herself”

Yesterday morning, I spent an hour or so sitting in the sun, drinking café con leche and discussing AstraZeneca with a group of women all here in Madrid because of their husbands’ jobs. (For those of you playing along at home, what we call shots, people in the U.K. call jabs. Also for those playingContinue reading “Sky Blue Sky”

And so it began, this time last year. And no, FB, I don’t “enjoy looking back and sharing memories on Facebook,” at least not when it’s this particular one. Though I guess it’s good for us all to take stock, to assess, to honor just how far we’ve traveled in the last eventful year. Yesterday’sContinue reading “The World Turns”

Over time, I’ve come up with my own names for the shops we patronise in the neighborhood, mainly because if I call them by their actual names, M has no clue which place I’m talking about. Thus, our main frutería has become my fruit lady. One bakery is foccacia guy, the other is Roman guy.Continue reading “Breva/Breve”

On Saturday, the buskers outside the subway were all playing “Hallelujah” and the Spanish girls were wearing shirts that showed off their belly buttons. The buskers hadn’t bothered to play “Hallelujah” since COVID started a year ago, and this time last year, nobody was wearing skimpy clothes that anybody else saw, because we were allContinue reading “One Step Forward”

*Taking the pulse. So here we are, come full circle. The kids have Thursday and Friday off; it’s the time of year known as Semana Blanca (White Week), when, back in ye olden days, Europe headed happily for the pistes. Now, of course, we understand that the main thing all that après ski jollity createdContinue reading “Semana Blanca*”

Last night, apropos of nothing much, Younger Daughter asked me Are you sad, Mama? The fact was: I was a little sad and had been all day, but I thought I’d done an excellent job of hiding it, because that is what mothers are supposed to do. Why do you ask? I asked (cagily). —Continue reading “The Long Winter”

The snow that brought Madrid to its knees was drop-dead, once-in-a-lifetime gorgeous, but before long it was dotted with frozen dog poop, we were storing a week’s worth of garbage on our balconies and shovelling snow with dustpans and ice scoops, and everybody was mad. The meteorologists had predicted the snowfall down to the centimeter.Continue reading “The Nature of the (Human) Beast”