Winding road; the moon
plays peek-a-boo
behind the mountains
Bedraggled autumn afternoon;
a thousand robin’s eyes watch
from the elder tree.
In the summer, the untended land here is mostly too dry for weeds and no lawn can survive without almost daily watering. The neighbour moves his grand-daughter’s shetland pony around between the various empty gardens and fields, and she may not be in one place for more than a couple of days, depending on the grazing.
We’ve had rain now – torrential thunderstorms and strong winds – but not enough sun to bring the weeds on again, though no doubt they’ll be knee high again in a week or so.
Continue reading “a for apple”
It’s not just the bread and cake shops that confuse me in Spain. There’s a-whole-nother area of shop difficulties associated with chemist shops and drug stores.
In the UK we have chemists. Inside a chemist shop you’ll find the pharmacy counter where you can buy your medicines – or, hopefully, in the near future get your prescription made up free of charge. You’ll also usually find a photographic department, perhaps an optician, even, maybe, a wine-making area. Continue reading “de tiendas II”
On the subject of shops, I talked about the bombonería – the chocolate shop – and the fact that our local bar is called the Bombonera although it’s neither chocolate box pretty, nor does it sell anything sweet, focusing rather, as do most normal Spanish bars, on fried food such as calamares and pieces of pig.
The whole bomb… lexical area is, perhaps unsurprisingly, one which deserves due respect. Our butane gas is delivered in big orange bottles called bombonas. (Remember that bombón is a chocolate or similar sweet.) Continue reading “language bombs”
don't confuse the narrator 