Category Archives: Grist for the Mill

Our nearest grocery store, open 24 hours a day pre-Pandemic (which, over the past 14 months, has gone from being not open at all to only being open 11:00 a.m. – 6:00 p.m., then 9:00 a.m. – 9:00 p.m., then 7:00 a.m. – 10:00 p.m.), is now open 24 hours. There are tourists! In Madrid!Continue reading “Signs of Life”

First, of course, starting in January were the Facebook posts from the U.S., a trickle, then a flood: vaccinated! (I was such a late FB adopter that my friends list is more curated than most, which allows me to avoid both the fray and anti-vaccine posts.) Then one friend here went home to England; anotherContinue reading “The Long and Winding Road”

Two Saturdays ago, I woke up to a dawn broken by singing. This sounds much more picturesque than it actually was. But at the sound, I carried my cup of coffee onto the terrace and leaned my elbows on the railing to enjoy it. Two Saturdays ago was also the next-to-the-last Saturday of Madrid’s curfew.Continue reading “Quiero Fiesta”

Looking back on it, writing poetry was probably my entry point into writing, period. I wrote my first poem in 6th grade; I then set poems aside as one of life’s “childish things” and began writing short stories in college. (Poetry didn’t sell, “they” said, not mentioning that short stories don’t, either.) After a hiatusContinue reading “Backstory, In More Ways Than One”

Today is International Day of the Book. Who knew? Certainly not us Americans, unless something changed since I left the States a year and a half ago. But here in Spain, people really celebrate el Día del Libro. This might be because Spanish people love festivities in general. It could be because the celebration wasContinue reading “El Día del Libro/World Book Day”

In 2019, my poem “Metamorphism” was lucky enough to find a home at Parks and Points, a beautiful website blending practical tips, poetry, and essays about what to my mind is the U.S.’s most valuable resource: our varied public lands. In July, “Metamorphism” and over 50 other poems first published on the website will appearContinue reading “Wayfinding: Pre-Orders and Events”

The swifts are back, to surf the canyons between the apartment buildings. I’d been waiting for them and waiting for them, taking comfort from the idea of their long flight from Africa and eventual return to Madrid. Yes, the future’s uncertain, but the swifts’ peregrination is a constant, one of the world’s mysterious mechanisms. TheyContinue reading “Peregrinations”

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”