Esta es mi carta de despedida. Creo que no es un deshonor a estas alturas decir que me falta energía para tantas cosas.
No sé si os preocupa, queridos lectores, pero mis vacaciones de este mes no son vacaciones de escribir. De hecho, estoy escribiendo tanto que acabo de terminar una libreta entera que empecé en julio. Los mecenas de mi Patreon tienen ya un índice con lo que iré publicando. Espero que guste… he ido a lo más
Somebody makes a pseudo-stupid joke at my son Quique in the street —something I’ll never understand. Pablo looks at me with his best “what the hell just happened, did you get it?” and our telepathy fails for a moment, and I have to make do with expressing my thoughts with words, and in front of
Como sabéis, hace poco estuve en Nueva York. Mi primer objetivo era ver La noche estrellada de Van Gogh, y el segundo acercarme a The Stonewall Inn,un sitio mítico donde los haya. El lugar donde empezó toda la lucha por la liberación LGBTIQ+… etc. Se vino Willow, a la que podéis ver en esta foto tan feliz:
On Tuesday my Interpreting students at University brought to class, as practice material, an interview with the star of Breaking Bad. The text contained the question: What would you do if you had a year to live? It was funny, at the time, to think that it’s just one year since Benita, my German mom, left
I don’t know if you’re worried, my dear readers, but my holidays this year do not include holidays from writing. Actually, I’m writing so much I’ve just finished a notebook I started last month. There’s a post for patrons only and tell you too in a bit about what I’m working on. I hope you like it…
Alguien le gasta una broma pseudo-estúpida a Quique por la calle, cosa que nunca comprenderé. Pablo me mira con cara de «¿tú te has enterado de qué acaba de pasar?» y nuestra telepatía falla por un momento, con lo que me tengo que conformar con expresar mis pensamientos con palabras y delante de los niños.
Somebody makes a pseudo-stupid joke at my son Quique in the street —something I’ll never understand. Pablo looks at me with his best “what the hell just happened, did you get it?” and our telepathy fails for a moment, and I have to make do with expressing my thoughts with words, and in front of
As you know, I went to New York recently. My first goal was to see Starry Night, by Van Gogh, and my second goal to visit The Stonewall Inn, a legendary place. The spot where all the LGBTIQ+… etc. liberation movement started. Willow came too, you can see her looking happy in this pic: Willow deserves her own
“Scruple” derives from scrupŭlus, small stone. If you get a stone in your shoe, you’ll be uncomfortable. Today scruples make you hesitate when confronted with a moral choice.
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