The cruelty of time

I have reconciled myself to the fact that few will read this "blog", but those of you that do, I can only say that the few months that have passed between my last entry and today 'splain it all. As we prepare to head back to La Figuera, to drill once again for the coveted water, I am struck by how much pain and joy co-mingle. My eldest son, my first born, is getting married. And a dear friend, one I had struggled hard to hang on to, has died. And yet I persist in returning to the Priorat, to the finca, because I believe, I dream, I imagine. Is that so wrong? Septiembre, Cristina, Septiembre.