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I might officially be Chilean
Something really big has happened. After fourteen years in Chile, something enormous has taken place. I have not purchased a home, gotten married, had or adopted children. I have not applied for my...
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In Which a Near-Dooring Leads to Tone Policing (tales of cycling and slang in...
Not my bike, but a bike I covet, a Yerka, a Chilean-designed self-locking bike where the seat and seat post become the lock. Yesterday, as I periodically do, when nearly killed by a flung-open taxi...
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Not just curtains (leaving centro/social upheaval and more)
Curtains! Not a scintillating topic. Except why do I need curtains? And why have I spent fifteen minutes out of the last several days trying to get them back from the place I left them, and why do I...
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New (to me) feria report, and the continued joy that living in Chile brings me)
In talking about the civil unrest, this fríend of a friend asked me what it would take for me to leave Chile. And it’s a good question. For a while I was seeing a gringo exodus, but it was mainly the...
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On sewing, nostalgia and the challenges of the day
Way back in a recess of my mind I am sitting in the backyard on East 19th Street in Brooklyn and it is early summer. My grandmother is sitting in one of those woven beach chairs with the light...
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Breakthrough Covid Infection/Infección Irruptiva por Covid, post double...
One of the many tasty things I ate that I could not taste. I could feel the lime though. Read on to learn about chemesthesis. A buzzing, churning, roiling, banging, grinding machine has been just...
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Quantifying the unquantifiable, Getting Better after Breakthrough Covid...
A forget me not, which I noticed on a walk far from home. Or cuento corto, “I’m back.” Of all the household tasks, perhaps the most vexing is the putting on of the duvet cover. For those who don’t...
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6+ months post breakthrough COVID, and an idling motor
Caution! No sparrows allowed! And on Day 111, she could smell. No, really smell. Smell that the honey-scented soap that she bought in the hopes of making her nose happy, which heretofore had smelled...
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Fever Dreams, Painting Badly
This is what my brain looks like on fever. Laying in bed in a feverish haze, thank you science, my overreactive immune system (and a 3rd Pfizer shot), I snuggled deeper into a pile of blankets and...
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Painting badly (sort of) on purpose
Many years ago, I was visiting my family in San Francisco, and my nephew, then small enough to fold up in my lap like a little frog, frustratedly told me he didn’t like a particular video game because...
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