Well, I have this much left but I'll put a little something I made for a creative writing course. The people that follow me in my blog and will read, but as not everyone follows me there since I go here too.
I like photography. When I travel or there is any special occasion you will be taking part, I always carry my camera, which began as a second hand nikon gave me my father and now has evolved, along with the times, a digital canon.
The biggest difference between then and now, is that maybe when I get to order photobefore ordering as much as sixty photos of the same trip as you can now have hundreds. This is pictures of the strangest things you could imagine: posters that I have found funny in the street, tropocientas photos to the same view until I find one good enough and a wide variety of similar things.
today, namely, ordering the photographs in this last year I found a picture of a bass ready to put into the oven. I remember well that day and I was thrilled to find something as simple as a fish to speak Castilian in a country like Finland. Then, to get to my floor, we pusiWe cook, discussing the charge of dinner on a medley of English, Castilian and Greek on the different recipes: whether to add this or that special or even when keeping the tray in the oven.
close my eyes and almost feel like I'm there. The heat of the kitchen, I can perfectly recreate the warmth that makes this June in English, the smell of food and laughter. I can even smell the fish, may have something to do any of my neighbors are preparing dinner.
But not only that afternoon in November what I remember. Breathe deep, deep in my thoughts and I feel there is another memory, older, thatital so could not eat a lot of those things that are so common, and full of cholesterol, in English cooking: the chorizo, jamón serrano, the various stews and casseroles, and a long parade of dishes equally delicious.
Then my mother decided that we could all eat the same, do the salt sea bass in the style of their land. And, as has always been a tradition in my house, everyone helped each other as far as possible, setting the table, preparing drinks, or in my case, making a kitchen. I remember the laughter of my brothers and my mother scolding each time we tried to steal some of the fruit that would make the apErites that time and my mouth fills with saliva and again I can almost taste that dinner.
Sonríoy look at my mother, I look to see that I question almost five minutes in the kitchen without saying anything, said that for the next family gathering could make a healthy meal, and You know, sea bass with salt and fruit cocktail.
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