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Gondolas

Speaking of local politics and bird-sounding names, Pedro remembers what it was about a discussion that took place in the city council, nearly sixty years.

To beautify the lake of Parque de Mayo, a mayor proposed to bring a gondola.
- Make it two, - answered another, convinced - male and female, to be played .

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Experiences and emotions to dream


A day may depararte satisfaction and also several unpleasant moments. Satisfactions

When it is to share as loud, and if bad shots and unpleasant transformations, better swallow soon as possible.
But, no. It was one of those days when you go to bed happy, excited, proud to have had that experience.
In my town, small as they come, great as anyone else, happen at the same time events than any other, but with the significant difference that affect you or those you happen to you.

for days was announced the presentation of a documentary covering the four seasonal agricultural activities, professions and people from around here.
The appointment was announced for a Saturday at eight o'clock. And, as I had a small role in this documentary, because it longed to see him finally.

I'm late, as usual, but had not yet begun the screening. The room was crowded. Entire families occupied the chairs and many are layered in the bar that high school students arranged to collect some money that allows them to finance the trip to the course.
Seeking a place where there's room and wait. Technical problems delayed the presentation, but the table occupy the hosts of the event. All are proud of the work. More Manolo and his son Paul, matagallo Photographers Association.
Sponsored by the City Council and with the invaluable help of a number of neighbors, women and men of the village, it was not possible to recreate many scenes of yesteryear, with time and technological progress and are almost unwatchable.
With the first pictures, it becomes silence. Scenes as they happen, we're recognizing, murmurs of approval and knowing smiles accompany the passage through the screen of the actors and extras. Each of the seasons are recreated in different jobs and tasks of each one of them.

So, the saddler, which tightens the lovingly cattail fibers in seats sanctioned tournament and all four legs of the chairs ... And displayed the hands of the man who artfully grafted on the olive nearst a new plant ... is winter ... Wheat planting is done by hand, spreading the seeds behind the plow. Today's modern tractors lined writing firm the face of the earth, but once were the teams of mules or cows, even forced a donkey, who did pushed by the struggling laborer. Advances
winter weather and olive trees has been releasing them their heavy fruit load. Now they are exhausted and in need of cleaning. It is responsible for the "talaores" pruning branches to allow the necessary renewal planta.A good "talaores" makes the experience.
That my father knows a lot ... And when his presence fills the screen and his words resonate strongly. "Good greening begins at the logging ..." I'm excited to see you there, so handsome, with its well kept almost ninety years, laying down the law.
Winter will peter out without feeling. The field lights and the green light arises from the sowing. Revive the trees with their flowers and starts the cycle of the new crop.
The mature summer the children of the fig, almond and hardens the ink color of blond grass. With the first heats are plotted the wheat and the reapers san juan strive to embrace the corn for, with their sickles, cutting the land. On beasts carry the sheaves into the floor. There, a roller, or sledge, pulled by two mules taken out of the ears clean grain. This will thoroughly purge the pile, separating the wheat from the chaff.
With the advance of summer, autumn road destination, choose the pasero figs, then tucked in Ceret, are pressed and
serve as a delicious dessert for the whole year. September
With advanced, olive trees display their infinite manchineel olives, green and succulent, ready to catch. Is the greening, traditional and exclusive dedication of these lands. Go beyond the cool morning with the block, their baskets on their arms, singing jubilantly said awaited the harvest.
stairs and loaded on the branches, fruit and milk gently legacy of years and wisdom.

In many instances, burst of applause, and is celebrated with a magnificent job satisfaction on what specials we have all to be protagonists of our own history
And is not unique to us. In every corner of Andalusia, you can easily find pictures as I tried to describe ... although many now see only in sepia.

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The mansion of Peter

It's too hot, Pedro said today when we went to visit; and not me when it's so heat, stop being Pedro Knight and I become Mister Hike.


At the door of your home shines on the silver metal inscribed "The House of Peter", that someone was kind enough to write.

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Victoria Cotillo, the fourth-grade teacher Peter

Today a lady left this message Caballero File, at the entrance of April 2, 2008 in which Peter spoke of his master Victoria Cotillo :

AM NIECE OF VICTORIA, daughter of his cousin brother ANDREW, I was reading distractedly I REALIZE THAT MENTION TO OUR DEAR VICTORIA.
IS MY STRONG EMOTION, my 74 years have received a jolt of Emotion MEMORIES and beautiful. GRACIAS.ES
SUCH AS DESCRIBED.
THE NAME OF YOUR SPOUSE IS Zoia

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After many years, a day dream ...

That afternoon I thought it went with a teenage friend of my dear friend-now-to his house in the village. No longer there and so she returns often when collecting souvenirs, the most diverse, with only the incalculable value of the recovered, but no longer serve us all.

When that friend comes to town, often visit. That happened about days.
"I need to go to the camera in my house to get something, but I'm afraid ... have underpinned the ground and can sink" Katy says while sipping coffee at home.
- What you got there? I ask curiously.
- Nothing ... dishes, pots ... boxes of comics, books and magazines.
- Comics ...? Do you still have those who used to pay for children?
-Claroooo! some have even your name written really big ... An unusual interest

seized me. So I asked him to accompany her. He wanted to go get my hands on those publications of cartoons that made me enjoy both ... It's been almost forty years.
This time it happened, nothing made me forget the long summer evenings spent in the company of such extraordinary characters as Captain Thunder, The Warrior Jabato or Mask. Today
children seem to lack the time to play and have fun. By then he had plenty of time, what was missing was how to fill it. The street was our theme park and the house, gathering necessary to so freely.
in full summer heat wave there was nothing open on the street, because the stones got heated and the mothers were given the shoe to anyone willing to try.
Luckily I already enjoyed reading. And comics were my favorite. I used to ride
read in bed. Opened the window, I lay in the long run and grab the first copy of the nearest lot. It was methodical, read them all, one after another without choosing, thinking not to leave any behind.
I felt so free, riding towards inhospitable land adventures ... I felt so strong, despite my skinny arms, so brave, forgetting how long shunned outright fights.
My family was humble and buy comics was not within their means. Of course, I had was rendered or had changed to one that, like me, collected in the same way. Let's see, a few cousins, friends, neighbors, older, with more buying power and more ability to keep the other, sooner or later they admitted they got tired and exchanges. Then, these goings-on became irreversible and the property changed hands. Thus, my hands went through hundreds and hundreds of comics, of all kinds. And I do not remember buying any.
Years later, when they could buy, I got new copies of those comics that made me enjoy both. But, no, I do not evoke the same feelings, although they made me relive those happy moments when he dreamed of emulating my heroes.

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consumed fresh Now that Christmas is gone, back to my memory that, increasingly distant from my childhood.

These delicious donuts that our neighbor gave us those evoked Rosa me almost identical to my mother.

Christmas came those years with aromas and flavors of wood oven. Some households kept the old furnace in the bottom of the backyard. These were built in the day with red bricks parties, forming a near-perfect vault. Arrived
December, the bustle in the houses was becoming continuous. And neighbors were cited for their sweet and bread baking.
In a year of those, I remember well, my mother was the first to prepare their own in Aunt Engracia. Since morning, heated up the oven with the collection of branches of Kermes, rosemary bushes, gorse and broom dry. And in the afternoon, my grandmother Mary was responsible for directing the dough. It was baking when young girl and my mother learned from her.
on brass trays, blackened by use, were placed carefully the gobs of dough, whether rosquetes, bagel or butter. The wine
rosco arose from a mixture of white wheat flour, olive oil, breadcrumbs, sweet wine or white wine tied and sweet, aniseed and sugar. The shortcakes, with lard, flour, oil and sugar. And my favorite, donuts, made from a thin dough wrapped around quite another to base of toasted almonds, but some ground, sweet syrup of figs and honey.
I liked helping my mother in this entertaining work ... and I vividly remember the taste of raw dough that took it secretly, it was not recommended for indigestion. It was my desire to make these tasty delicacies, longed for all year.
The wait by the stove was nice. The warmth that it appeared from the oven and the smells surround us attracted enough to stay busy playing around.
When the firing ended, they proceeded to remove the trays to be placed gently pieces cooked in baskets. And those are few. there is none based on the strand of wild olive twigs and strips of cane. Office was that of gypsies terns, which went from town to town selling their crafts while they kept the streets and squares braiding.
in baskets, waiting for the still unsweetened rusks wine. That was no impediment to metiéramos hand from time to time and appease the desire for eating.
Ah! It was not until a few days before Christmas when my mother unfolded on the kitchen table a sort of army of threads, arranged in line to be sweetened. One was used to bathe aguanís rosquetes for, then, bard with powdered sugar, which I loved grinding turning the handle of the coffee grinder. Dishes and trays full of sugary little crowns were deposited in the cupboard. Then the temptation increased enormously and, as much as watching my mother, holes in the plates grew almost by the hour. Almost
not enough to overcome the last week of the year, but the cravings were fully satisfied ...

A SONG FOR CARLOS CANO ALWAYS MADE ME REMEMBER THOSE TASTY AND SWEET SMELL OF CHRISTMAS ... "Cupboard of nuns."
may be the convents where they still made those sweet so sweet artisans memory.

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good trip

This photo was taken by Lisa in 2005. I just came in 9087, the train 352 which came from Buenos Aires, I came into the Pullman 672, seat 28.
This kid was walking taking pictures, we became friends, and I said "if I conseguis" and brought it to me, came with a group of friends.
Thus ended the year.
In February we will meet again, if we're still around here.

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The holidays Peter Knight

When we were kids, we gathered in Galván, my cousins \u200b\u200bcame, when we came to White celebrated here, in the house can were twenty or thirty. We went to midnight mass and then kept on eating all night. As the years passed in the house nuestrra, we got together with my brother, my sister, my nephew, here in the bay or in the working-class neighborhood.


Some years ago I had to work 24 or 31 and then there in the machine shed, we worked from 20 to 4 mañanana or 4 to 8 of us gathered, the staff of the mechanical section. Getting ready the first four locomotives that gave us, and then we ate in the dining room. getting ready the three machines that gave us (H enlistment, for leaving in the morning), a team preparing the dining room, and when conditions were ready, we went to eat together. there were not going to say no, had to go to trabaajr. I was playing, what's going to do ... we were able to 15 or 20. At twelve o'clock, the December 31 blew whistles and horns from locomotives ... we spent pleasant evenings, beer, a roast or chicken disc a lamb, a good time all night, like we were a family, we were a railroad family.


Among all of the section is buying lottery tickets, one was in charge of choosing the number, integer, and involved, each was given a receipt for their part, but we get nothing
never

Then ... and a few years ago I stopped going to these parties, I will not, not because it is angry, at one point that I saturated with so much food, for years I've been doing that, I prefer to eat light and listening to hold music. This last christmas spent in micasa, ate chicken, fruit, pineapple fizz, I talked with my neighbors, and the next day at noon I ate and went to Bahia.
I do that, I'm on a pedestrian, I always find some friends met and spent together, now I will first do the same.


is my way of celebrating the holidays, it makes me feel better .

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The portal of Eden, shepherds and sheep without, miraculously survived, with no hope that a god hiding inside a cardboard cup, where a wine infamous "bully" them revive their language and blames drugs every day.

Like soap bubbles, the bubbles of dreams and illusion grow and and Nsanchan infinitely until the pervasive and harsh reality makes "plop, ploff, plofff ..."








Christmas starts with the sound of hitting balls on the naive expectations of those who still believe that other happiness is possible ... It ends with the same score that gives them the "Child."
natural encounter is the same ball twice ... But every year?

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Notebooks

These are some of the books that Peter used in school 15, when he was in third and fourth degree, 1949 and 1950.
In the first, displayed the signatures of the third teacher, Elida Sette Orta and the director of the School, Vicenta Fury. Below, signs the mother of Peter, Mary Knight. Next, the book of aesthetics, which was where we copied the patriotic songs. And the notebooks, which gave the general direction of school books No 1 and No 2 y. When the teacher had to correct the 1, we used the number 2.

These notebooks the sixty years I kept boxed in wooden crates, along with school books.


drawing, drawing badly, peers I did the drawings. To me what I liked best was history and geography ...

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In the lounge bar is they made the holidays, from 22 to 3 am, with choice of queen included. Attending 500, 600. I first gave the propaganda of the anniversary celebration over the loudspeaker, he sold the cards in the secretariat, and later, on Saturday when the party was the last Arjeta collected at the door.

I worked, so the card does not pay.

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The "Papaija" and gone crazy. Stone by stone

"I was not born, but I have heard from others who lived then ... "So begins his story grandfather, who takes hold of his extensive archive rote again.
" What happened to Rosario the "Papaija" has no name. We should be ashamed of the people we allow this outrage ... You see .., ran the early years of last century ... "

Inn On the street, the woman lived with her second husband. Years before widowed, staying alone with two small children. In these circumstances, in those years, a husband was almost indispensable. She found him and remarried.
When he was born her third child, the couple lived with hardships, but fighting every day. At least his house belonged to them, because Rosario had inherited from their parents. Arrived
payments of contributions and taxes, which should take them, remained unpaid for two consecutive years. For this reason began a process of expropriation and went on sale the house, appearing on the tablet of the court.
Your own rose neighbor across the property by paying the stipulated fair price.
As they had nowhere to go, followed in his house but no longer theirs.
Very close to Christmas, in the depths of the nascent days winter, the Civil Guard was present in that house with an order of eviction. Rosario had left early to wash clothes and diapers to the laundry room of the Fountain of Albar, leaving children at home with the door locked, the largest not climb out of eight years and had only small months.
unmoved even the guards arranged to leave the house.
raining outside, with an insistence interminable and monotonous, but the guards did not seem reason to take into consideration. Furniture, clothes and other belongings were placed in the middle of the street. Up a batch of bread, which he kept in the cupboard, also took to the streets. Unfortunately, the home's sleeping boy was no exception. Wet the clothes soaked by rain and the humble wool mattress, no wonder the child cool.
When the mother returned, warned probably flew into a rage and went crazy for the people without finding relief. The child was taken by a neighbor, but he fell ill. And so it was
pneumonia was the smallest of the "Papaija." Of those events
recalls the visual image of those fluffy bread on the table placed in the street. However, the misfortune that resulted in the death of the son of the woman, easily forgot. For it seems a shame that more consideration was given not to jeopardize the prosecution or the coldness of the Civil Guards. Who would dare do it? Neither laws nor allow it shysters. That
Rosario lost his head and disappeared from view of neighbors and relatives, alerted everyone. Then reacted by starting your search. Gone are the days
yl to "Papaija" did not appear. The searched everywhere, but they gave her. It seems that the earth had swallowed.
"I told the q ue was found, a certain Frasquito Navarro, many years later." Under that carob
dragging ba their rough branches, curled up on the hollow trunk tree, lay dead mother who went mad after the wrongful death of her son.

Few recall and narrate these events. But the moon will always be ugly and shameful in the skin of a people. As I realized who keeps alive the memory, some authority came to say ... "That this never happens again" This seems to have been ... until now.

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Stone by stone,
man who knew them,
threw his mark.

Wind, sun, rain ..,
with constant force was checking
wrinkles
in the hard stone. It grew


the wet moss fall.
What
hardened winter and summer resected.


calloused hands of the maker of "heaps"
now lie still and idle dreaming
stones.


And want to know is its walls. He asks

interested if still standing.

I returned to the site every so often, a lot of old and gnarled olive trees, and I've always felt the energy concentrated in the mounds of stones.
still hear the echoes to the clatter of stones songs and spread through the limestone plateau, which rises with pattern of olive trees and the scent of aromatic plants.
the return from the day of collection of olives, after the usual greeting, the one who redid the mounds of stones immediately asks:


- What ihjo, how er Thurs day?
- was well, I am Jech Porvair.
- Yuvi to strip the Argun mahan?
- Nah, it loh puziste Plant.
- Puej, zabeh and not rejacerlos dehe of ca see that ahga Farta ...

The man who grew and recrecía the mounds as a wall and looks not with the eyes, just look at the memories. And clearly revives. He says that he forgets the colors, as if they were fading. However, the gray of the rocks or "colorao" land will not be forgotten.





stones are the thoughts that men dig. Left on the plateau of our lives can stand on one another and build a solid wall that apoyars e.
However, human wild thoughts leave without trying to be lost even build anything. So the life that belongs to us is left to form with thoughts of others, and prepared and ready to use. And drywall are people who can only provide just another brick in a dull world, to live is the least pathetic and miserable up.
Perhaps that is why we rejoice to both rows of rough stones simply put, they represent an unconventional human being ... like, for example, a farmer who devoted his life to clean the soil of stones that obstruct and detrimental to their life project: A few olive trees bear fruit year after year, bread dipping oil where he and his family.

Brick by brick, flamenco is an expression of art and wisdom culture and tradition. Let this be my tribute
.

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Row 35, please

Not only entries, also kept the boletitos Pedro indicating row and seat number.

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What does the private archives of Peter Knight ? Movie tickets

Several hundred movie tickets, between 1973 and 1994

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file at the museum

Today

Peter brought and left the museum archives and his private correspondence, cinema tickets, notes, bills of payment of the railroad, reported notes, the note of suspension of 67 years, notes a number, purchase tickets, birthday cards commercial port, electricity bills, receipts from raffles. For years

jealously nursed him at home, rated each item in a bag or different.

Now in your house, file papers, photos, brochures of their activities at the museum, memories and notes from people that are daily.

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A story in "andalú." Looks

As often happens at times, a text, phrase or poem appears before your eyes and get surprised, it can even move you or simply do not indifferent.
This happened to me a story. What surprised me was that it was written in "andalú."
I showed him a companion who wanted to use in a school year on the figure of Blas Infante, Father of the Nation Andalusian poet, historian, musicologist and author, among others, the anthem before us represents the Andalusians.
As you can see, the text shows it is really spoken Castilian in Spain. It is a speech of ordinary people in a rural environment, as people keep talking about today. Considered
speech expression Andalusian dialect, that is, one step below the category of language, Blas Infante's claim, however, as an authentic language, but the historical, political and economic changes occurred in the first half of prevented the twentieth century and beyond. Then came
Andalusian nationalism which sought a federal reconstruction of Andalucia for the regeneration of Spain. Blas Infante undertook this enterprise, but did not find sufficient support.

For ease of reading the story, try to translate it with the freedom and right that gives me knowledge of my native speech and the regular use of English.

Without wishing to be pretentious, I think there are enough reasons to start thinking Andalusian language exists, provided it is standardized and finally determined.
If Andalusian political forces would forcefully, an Academy of Language would be possible. However, this may not be possible by the myriad of problems that converge. The variety of shades in a variety of speakers who live in this region or simply partisan rivalry, or localized, so present and evident, as vain as sterile.

Here, then, the above story ...

THE WOLF preferred

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... ... ... ..

-er Veráhté how suseío Thurs. Was preferable d'hte ...

was MiHT wolf and dog. His grandfather wolf Thurs. Ehte nursed with milk, dehde boy.

I preferred er would always win. Already poia andequisiera ohté acohtá or ise. Er im that kept ohté wins preferred. Paese que l'ohtoy watching! Ehtd tended to pray, to lanochesé, and the door Elante d'hta chosa. If your master wanted Check peas and bread, he ate, if not, happy ever after! "I preferred the boa!" Esy ehte when would-be pa gets slept AEntry that Palasio. And there was I preferred sailing der er dream wins. Come poiana and loboh loh! Er cones Anteh'e poetic and I preferred to be yegaban ehtd argunoh boa ... But ehpueh that Jisoo loh loh Corré muchah veseh with ehtrosaoh pehcuesoh no longer gorvieron Beyon Toca not a sheep and wool and Allah d'ehte ...

And the thing did not stop here. Veráhté. Loboh Loh, ehpantaoh and preferred, not come to ehtd majá mah ... but mine jueron and pahtoreh otroh lah ... But ah, my friend! Er was in quantitative dog (and was not national and felt!) That went loh loboh enreaoh with boa rd cuarquier wins, as he sure ehtaba bichoh aquelloh by mieo not going to come to his own way from there came to a toh defendernoh in buhca e loh loboh and loboh loh, as it were, to run s'a said!, and miuhté, toh er teníamoh and beware wins, and ezo between toh nozotroh puzimoh you preferred. .. Who would have thought that the overnight ...! What marditah mugereh zon lah!

veráhté -Poh ... Hase Coza and a preferred ezaparesió meh ... Toh loh moh pahtoreh that enteramoh and the perdisión d'er dog moh lah subíamoh in Loarte sirbábamoh peñah and preferred calling! HICP ... ... pch, preferred!. " Ka, preferring not aquifers! «L'Abram killed?" Said one. And what buhcamoh and buhcamoh ents, and ... na. Q'un Jahta day ...; improve: a dawn.

....

- But man, what has it loh Jasia loboh, anteh and know nothing! He exclaimed, raising his head, the master, hitherto silent, preferred.

-iah, eh green! "Said the narrator, and added: Thurs Poh what happened that could not handle loh Dioh loboh. Toítah Q'en lah nocheh came, and to me boa, and a pahtoreh otroh lah, AC jasiendo see a sanfransia ... Oh man, and rare thing! ... In the boa d'ehte not fall ever. Ents, that loh emáh biendo perroh ehtaban muertoh or acobardaoh, ihpusimoh that toah nocheh lah moh pa da queáramoh and sentinelah batíah to loboh loh. In quantitative sounded a shot at a boa, aquaculture and Liab flying to tiroh loh lah compañeroh otrah, and so moh puimoh Charge up lah toah Trehan loboh between nocheh.

... Poh Sr., that the boa d'ehte without aquifer. And it acohtaba disiendo ehte "iToavía s'acuerdan my preferred FOBT fulanoh!".

INFANTE PÉREZ, BLAS. Sister Loves of wolf and dog treason "preferred " TALES OF ANIMALS. Fundación Blas Infante - Ediciones SM. 1984

You see as what happened.

was preferred it (referring to the one next to it) was mixed
(Cross) dog and wolf. His grandfather was a wolf.

This milk raised him since childhood. Was always preferred to livestock. And could you sleep or go wherever I wanted. Best that you kept livestock. It seems that I'm seeing! Tended to this time in the evening, before the door of the hut. If your master wanted to take a piece of bread, ate it, if not, happy ever after! "I preferred to pasture! Said it when he went to sleep within the palace. And there he was preferred to ensure the dream of cattle. You could come the wolves! Before I preferred to know the power of it came some this flock. But after that was run many times with broken necks, and did not return to touch a fleece of the sheep it.

And the thing did not stop here. You see. The wolves were terrified of preferred, they came no more to this flock ... but went to the mine and the other pastors. But alas, my friend! As was the dog (and it was nothing of felt!) That wolves walked entangled with cattle of any flock, as he was sure that those animals, fear, do not come to yours, there came to defend us all in search of wolves, and wolves, as it were, to run away!, and look, we were all well protected livestock, so between us we put preferred ... Who would have thought that the overnight ...! What are the damned females!

. "Well, see you .. will do a month disappeared shepherds preferred ... All we heard about the disappearance of the dog, we climbed the rocks and preferred calling silvábamos! pss .. psss ... I preferred!. That is, preferring not come! "Could he have killed?" Said one. And then I looked and looked, y. .. nothing. Until one day ...; better: at dawn.
...
- But man, has it that the wolves did, before knowing anything! She exclaimed, looking up the master, hitherto silent, preferred.

- Ah, indeed! "Said the narrator, and added:" Then what happened was that God could not with wolves. That every bit of the nochess came, and my flock, and to other pastors, becoming a drain ... Man, strange thing! ... The flock of it did not fall ever. Then, seeing the other dogs were killed or cowed, ruled that every night we stayed as sentinels to give beaten to the wolves. In quantitative sounded a shot at a flock, went flying and he rolled a shot the other fellow, and so we could load three wolves of all nights.

Well, sir, that the flock of it, did not attend. And he went to bed saying: "I still remember these folks of my preferred!."

As stated in the letter of that Andalusian anthem ... "Be free in Andalusia, Spain and Humanity."
And to round off an international version of it ... "Andalusian" to the rhythm of rock ...

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"The eyes that see , not are eyes because you see them, are eyes because you see ." Antonio Machado .

In a school visit to the Science Museum of Granada took this picture. Hundreds of eyes forming columns gave me what to think ... in so many looks as we settle in and we are not aware, and also those we place ourselves. Superficial looks do not change anything, as of sight.
But there are other views, somewhat different ... those who look at the inside. Have you ever looked like that?

My story today is that ... and more.

Just around the corner, like every morning, Elisa awaiting the arrival of a buyer. Elisa sells stamps, is blind, and with them make a living.
Some time ago I know my seller. And I call them, they will just buy it. I'm lucky to do it, but never went past few euros of profit. I must be somewhat superstitious, but if I meet him every morning, it seems that I face the day with enthusiasm.
It was a dreary October morning when I met her. I was about to take the bus to go to meet a job interview. While waiting, I heard the saleswoman say ... "change your luck ... today is your day." Without thinking I approached her and asked her to change my luck. She replied with a smile:
- I only wish you luck, change it up to you.
The next morning I again thank you I would have been lucky. I accepted the job and started just to work that day.
today -Can you give me luck too, "I said, approaching her.
"Sure, that's my intention. If you put forward, luck is on your side.
I showed him the previous day coupon for it finds. I knew it would not award, but Elisa confirmed it with a smile. I kept the number to keep it, would like a charm.
In the following days was, without missing one, corner luck and gave me to call it. Rather than seeking a lucky break, take a pinch to fill my pockets, I wanted to meet with Elisa. He was convinced of the positive influence over me.
Elisa is blind from ten years. A flu took hold of his body frail and sickly, and all was complicated to total blindness.

had rarely award the number he chose. Moreover, I had made up his mind that day I'd be better without me to get and return of the investment.

So when the end came out winning the number he had with a few euros, I decided not to go to work that morning. At the same time, I was invited to Elisa for breakfast. Although reluctant to leave his post after insisting a lot, agreed.

Despite the brief daily encounters, a sincere friendship was becoming over time. She knew the right words to tell me every day. His eyes, through his dark glasses, it seems more accurate, deeper than any other in very minute that was.

was special on Sunday that we finally together. We walked along the beach, lunch at the kiosk of the port and asked me to take her to the movies. I was not surprised all his request, he was sure he did not need eyes to see. Once in the hall
sensations experienced unimaginable until then to me, to remain throughout the film taken of his hand as he described scenes and landscapes. Al complete the screening I saw that Elisa had perceived nuances that I could not see even remotely.

Despite our growing friendship , going out together on several occasions, had not yet formalized the relationship. The truth was that I did not ask her and she had remained quiet and reserved.

The crisis was the excuse they gave him throw before work. No lamented his fate, as they said ... "now my luck will change again." And, incredibly, it was another lucky to be graced with the biggest prize in the lottery.
When I appeared on the corner waiting patiently Elisa with lottery tickets, and I felt it. When holding hands and kissing, I knew immediately ...
- What do you changed the fate?
"Yes, you too, if you want.
wanted and I wanted ...
no longer returns daily to the corner. Psicología.Y currently studying, while I write ...

Suburban Ptac Gas Heating

Peter Ricci

October 9 when he presented the book of JC Ferrowhite Dinner, wine Rodolfo Ricci, a friend of Cena, ex Maldonado was in the railway and ended his career as head of Mechanics. With him came his grandson, Marcelo, a former railway and now he too Olimpo player and a person very dear to Peter.


But who are these Ricci, I asked him today, it sounds like you and me the names before. Edgardo
Ricci, Marcelo's father, he also my companion in Maldonado, was what helped me manage the DNI, in 2003: with it, and Fabian Inostroza I first went to Buenos Aires. I am deeply grateful.
After that, I went 26 times to Buenos Aires.

In red jacket, JC Supper jean jacket, Rodolfo Ricci, Peter Knight with its distinctive cap

Montes, Caballero, Miravalles Ceci, Llera and Blasco

Jcpenneys Salon Prices

Moreno, Orzali, Mazzone and a Knight

Moreno, Orzali, Mazzone and a Knight

Photo: Rodolfo Diaz