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Beginnings – Second try

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P&M – BEGINNINGS –

When I was barely an amoeba suffering from the irremediable summer blues of a teenager who could not go out with the others because of irritable bowel syndrome; it occurred to me to make me a lemonade and to write a story of love and candor to make me happy that summer of 1968. I was in my teens the day I began to write the tales and adventures of Paulina and Mauricio, two youngsters suffering from the irremediable effects of a summer born love.

Paulina and Mauricio shined in my mind like two tinny stars far apart in the cosmos. Those two stars were coming towards me at an astronomical speed and there was nothing I could do to stop them! They were wondering around in space for who knows how long (probably very long), until they found their destination. And, whether I liked…

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P&M – BEGINNINGS –

When I was barely an amoeba suffering from the irremediable summer blues of a teenager who could not go out with the others because of irritable bowel syndrome; it occurred to me to make me a lemonade and to write a story of love and candor to make me happy that summer of 1968. I was in my teens the day I began to write the tales and adventures of Paulina and Mauricio, two youngsters suffering from the irremediable effects of a summer born love.

Paulina and Mauricio shined in my mind like two tinny stars far apart in the cosmos. Those two stars were coming towards me at an astronomical speed and there was nothing I could do to stop them! They were wondering around in space for who knows how long (probably very long), until they found their destination. And, whether I liked it or not, I was their destination! I cannot point out when they finally dropped on my lap; only that I have felt obliged to tell about them in my many writings throughout the years. The begining of this tale marked the end of my summer blues. IT WAS NOT THE FIRST TIME I CREATED A STORY SUCH AS THIS. BUT, IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I WROTE DOWN ONE FOR KEEPS.

One day, when the ‘others’ have come home from a delightful day out on the beach they wanted to know what I was doing home all day. “Oh, I see” they said, “you are writing a story”. At first I wrote in code to keep the story secret until all finished. Yet, my clever readers were able to break the code. Soon everybody wanted to get home from work to read the new episode I wrote that day. ONE EPISODE A DAY WAS THE DEMAND. And that’s how it all started. My “fan club”, that is.

  • P&M – Intro – When I was barely an amoeba suffering from the irremediable summer blues of a teenager who could not go out with the others because of irritable bowel syndrome; it occurred to me to make me a lemonade and to write a story of love and candor to make me happy that summer of 1968. I was in my teens the day I began to write the tales and adventures of Paulina and Mauricio. Two youngsters suffering from the irremediable effects of a summer born love. Paulina and Mauricio shined in my mind like two tinny stars far apart in the cosmos. Those two stars were coming towards me at an astronomical speed and there was nothing I could do to stop them! They were wondering around in space for who knows how long (probably very long). Until they found their destination. And, whether I liked it or not, their destination was me! I cannot point out when they finally dropped on my lap. All I know is as soon as I realized they were mine I felt full obliged to tell you about them. The begining of my tale marked the end of my blues. IT WAS NOT THE FIRST TIME I WAS CREATING A STORY SUCH AS THIS. BUT, IT WAS THE FIRST ONE I WROTE DOWN KEEP. One day, when the ‘others’ have come home from a delightful day out on the beach they wanted to know what I was doing home all day. “Oh, I see” they said, “you are writing a story”. Soon everybody wanted to read what I wrote at the end of the day. ONE EPISODE A DAY WAS THE DEMAND. And that’s how it all started. My “fan club”, that is.

P&M 12. Sunday came in a soft and lush morning glory of various shades of green and blue. In the forest the fog circulated stirring itself around the trees, as each car approached it sheltered spot under the leafy tall trees. This was the usual place the wooded área the Leandros had chosen for their outdoor excursions year after year. One, two, three arrived the masserattis. There a little lagoon bloom with a lot to fish. Peet at the driver’s seat said at the turn of the key. Already, everybody safe now take care of me. – Paulina jumped out of the car and broke to run like a dove in flight and departed as to never come back. Lili was not to move from her seat until Marcos turned to assist and opened the door for her. Leaving her uncomfortable and ignored Lilly could never be. Somebody would have to look and appreciate her long and beautiful legs. Aleandro had the party early with all repaired to make this occasion a wonderful picnic. For Don Ignacio it was important that all her daughters were together when they came to the Vineland. The place, i thought it lent itself to some “problems”.  (cont..)

Intro to P&M

P&M – Intro –

When I was barely an amoeba suffering from the irremediable summer blues of a teenager who could not go out with the others because of irritable bowel syndrome; it occurred to me to make me a lemonade and to write a story of love and candor to be happy that summer of 1968. I was in my teens the day I began to write the tales and adventures of Paulina and Mauricio. Two youngsters in search for love, and suffering also from the irremediable summer blues. Paulina and Mauricio shined in my mind like two tinny stars in the cosmos and coming towards me at an astronomical speed. These two stars, my friends, were wondering in space for how long, very long. They had found their destination and they were coming towards me whether I liked it or not! I cannot point out when they finally dropped on my lap. All I know is as soon as I realized they were mine I felt full of joy. No more blues! IT WAS NOT THE FIRST TIME I WAS CREATING A STORY; BUT IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I ATTEMPTED TO WRITE IT DOWN IN PENCIL AND PAPER TO SAVE IT. One day, when the ‘others’ have come home from a delightful day out on the beach they wanted to know what I was doing home all day. “Oh, I see” they said, “you are writing a story”. Soon everybody wanted to read what I wrote at the end of the day. And that’s how it all started. My “fan club”, that is.

Frio Invierno 2013

En esta manana fria y seca en Collingswood de Nueva Jersey; sali a echar semilla al gorrion y nuez a la ardilla. Los diminutos seres que afuera de mi ventana que veo sobrevivir cada invierno. Claro no son los mismos. No estan los que se fueron ni los que ya han muerto. Y como dicen que la araña queda en el castillo aun cuando todos se han ido aquí me tienen haciendo lo mismo. Muchas  son las memorias que encuentro escondidas entre tanto escombro. Mas si te has ido o estas muerto amor mio, la verdad que no me acuerdo. Ocupada en mis quehaceres de escribir y esas cosas. hoy me siento mas atareada y obligada a responder a una demanda. Resulta que se me acusa de ser mala, de ser dura e injusta. También se dice por ahí que tengo que vaciar la cabeza que tengo llena de pajaritos. Y  que si pretendo siquiera hablarlos, que vienen y me queman la casa! Se llevan todo y me dejan en bombachas! Mas yo abro la ventana y encuentro nada que me apuere, nada que me pueda enganar. Vivo feliz en este precurso de paraiso. Y el canto del ave es suave porque le llego el pan. Y la ardilla se sociega y planta un nogal.

English

On this cold and dry winter morning in Collingswood, New Jersey; I stepped out to throw seed to the sparrow and walnuts to the squirrel. The tiny creatures outside my window which I watch survive each winter. Surely they are not the ones I saw last year. Some of them left, others died. As they say the spider is in its castle long after all have left. And so it is that I remain.

There are many memories hidden among the rubbish. And, so it is that if you were and no longer are, I no longer care. Today, I am busy and obliged to reply to those that question me. It turns out that I am accused of being bad, stubborn and unjust. Also that I have my head full of cookoos. And that if I intend to even talk to them, they may come and I burn my house! They would take everything and leave me in underwears! Then, I look out the window and find that the morning is fresh, the blackboard is big, and I get an “A” on my test. I live happy in this prelude of Paradise. And the singing of the bird is delightful for it was given bread. And the squirrel quiets and plants a walnut tree.

P&M – Intro

Cuando yo apenas era una ameba se me ocurrió hacerme una limonada refrescante para aplacar la sed que tenia en el verano del ’69. Era yo de apenas 18 años de edad el día que me puse a escribir “Paulina y Mauricio”. NO ERA LA PRIMERA VEZ QUE CREABA YO UNA HISTORIA,, PERO SI ES LA UNICA ESCRITA QUE AUN GUARDO CONMIGO. Los textos que hoy paso a compartir datan de muchos años atrás. Así es que al leerlo nuevamente suene a viejo. Pero, que va, cuando lo escribí lo hice para entretener y nada mas. Bueno, que se entretengan y rían; y ojala les guste.

English

When I was barely an amoeba suffering from the unremediable summer blues of a teenager who could not go out with the others because of irritable bowel syndrome; it ocurred to me to make me a lemonade to quench the thirst and to make me happy, to write a story of love and candor that summer of 1968. I was in my teens the day I began to write the tales and adventures of Paulina and Mauricio. Two youngsters also in love, and suffering from the unremediable summer blues. Paulina and Mauricio shined in my mind like two tinny stars in the cosmos and coming towards me at an astronomical speed. These two stars, my friends, had found their destination and they were coming towards me whether I liked it or not! I cannot point out when they finally dropped on my lap. All I know is as soon as they arrived I felt full of joy. No more blues.  IT WAS NOT THE FIRST TIME I WAS CREATING A STORY; BUT IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I ATTEMPTED TO WRITE IT DOWN IN PENCIL AND PAPER TO SAVE IT. One day, when the ‘others’ have come home from a delightful day out on the beach they wanted to know what I was doing home all day. “Oh, I see they said, you are writing a story.” And that’s how it all started. My “fan club”, that is.

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