Where did I go? Today was a trial run, so I stayed close to home in a small piece of woodland on our property. There is no need to be stealthy here, but folks are so friendly that if the neighbours see me, they will come over for a chat. The whole point is havingContinue reading “Stealth desk”
Category Archives: Abigail Thorne Unedited
Paradela
Another poem today, this time much more lighthearted. I wrote this when we visited a fiesta in a nearby village. It has a small population of two thousand people. The name Paradela means ‘A stop on the Road.’ It seemed appropriate. Galicia is sometimes surprising. Paradela On Monday Paradelais a sleepy little town. On TuesdayContinue reading “Paradela”
Misty Mornings
Summer days at Casa Batan almost always begin with shrouds of mist. Misty mornings that come before the heat of the day takes hold are one of the privileges of living here. It covers over mountain topsand hides the rolling hills.And winds its way up riversdimming swirls and rills It dances through the forestwith theContinue reading “Misty Mornings”
The baker’s shop. A memoir.
Almost all the happy memories I have of my childhood revolve around food. My mum enjoyed cooking and my dad enjoyed eating. Not only was my mother an excellent cook, but she was an extrovert, sociable hostess and, in the early sixties, these were admirable qualities.Memory is fickle and changes with family stories and perception,Continue reading “The baker’s shop. A memoir.”
Locks, Dogs and Gypsies.
Scones
I recently watched a TV cooking competition on YouTube. The judges asked the contestants to cook something which was a family tradition and reminded them of home.One girl made scones. She told the judges that every day after school she went to her gran’s house, and her granny made the best scones. Her face litContinue reading “Scones”
The mystery of the metallic manure.
When we moved to the Galicia fourteen years ago, we had never lived in the countryside before. We couldn’t speak either the local Galician language used by our neighbours or Castilian Spanish. Over the years, there have been many misunderstandings because of both language and lack of rural experience. I can’t hope to explain howContinue reading “The mystery of the metallic manure.”
Publication, Prayer and Pilgrims.
The week after I publish a book is always strange and often, I mooch about the house, not quite knowing what to do with myself. In theory, I start the next book, but the time immediately before the publication date is so intense that I have to shake that off before I can think ofContinue reading “Publication, Prayer and Pilgrims.”
A Womble in Winter
It is normal for me to supplement our diet with wild greens, even though we have a vegetable garden. Miners’ lettuce (Winter Purslane), Pennywort and chickweed all find their way into winter salads. This year, though, I stumbled on a real find by the lane which leads into the village. Turnips. We’ve been eating themContinue reading “A Womble in Winter”
Bookshops
I suppose that there are people in the world who don’t like bookshops, in the same way as there are people who forget to eat lunch. I don’t recall having many conversations with such people, but that’s probably because the conversation was too short for recollection. Bookshops, which also serve lunch, or at the veryContinue reading “Bookshops”
Abigail Thorne 