Author: Kate Wilson

BCNegra 2013

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

I am reading about the festival of the crime novel which is on in Barcelona from February 1st to 9th. According to the article in the Vanguardia, the thriller genre is going through another golden age; sales of books are high and there are very popular and successful adaptations for film and TV.

I began thinking about all the TV and crime series that were part of my childhood and youth – starting with Dixon of Dock Green, and going on through Z-Cars, Prime Suspect, Inspector Dalgliesh, Miss Marple, Morse, Cracker, Rebus, Sherlock,  The Killing and so on.

Is it a particularly British/American fascination?  There don’t seem to be equivalents on Catalan TV.  In fact I don’t notice there being any series that are so addictive and popular that everyone stays in to watch them.  Is that something to do with the weather – that there is always something more interesting to do outdoors and less need to snuggle down on the sofa?

But of course there are also the Nordic writers and programmes.
When I first arrived in Barcelona three years ago everyone in the metro was reading the Larsson Millenium books. And the VG article had an interview with someone new to me called Unni Lindell whose recent book Muerte Blanca is the third of a series of novels which have also been adapted for TV. She describes how there was one condition for the making of the series, that the dog Birka who is the constant companion of the policewoman Marian Dalhe, has to be played by the real dog Birka owned by a friend of Unni.

As part of the festival they have also organised a competition to see what are the best locations for crime in the city of Barcelona. You can sent in your ideas to this twitter account #raconsbcnegra

January Walk at Sant Nicolau

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

It is no secret that I love the Alt Empordà

My spirits rise when I see the mountains in the distance and the green fields spreading out on both sides on the road. This time I asked myself, at what point do I start to feel that shift in energy which tells me I am arriving?   I was travelling in the van with Bonnie up the AP7 and I think the change happened when I crossed the River Ter which flows from the mountains to the Aiguamolls.
Seeing the snow-peaked Pyranees gives me a similar shiver to the one I always get on seeing St Michaels Mount in Penzance.
Home again!

In the distance the Canigó is covered in snow

The almond blossom is out

There is flowering rosemary on the country lanes

and here are my favourite letters carved in stone on the lane to Sant Nicolau
 
One day I hope to live here – it’s a place that inspires you
Cap a la part del Pirineu,
vora els serrats i arran del mar
s’obre una plana riallera,
n’és l’Empordà !
Joan Maragall

Virtual Vermut

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

I’ve got a few photos to share from our walks last Sunday but as it’s all a bit of a mish-mash I thought I’d show you them over a virtual vermut!  It’s not so virtual as actually I just ate a handful of crisps and knocked back a whisky.  I seem to be doing that more often recently – it’s called Stepmothers little helper!
Lets start with a photo of Bonnie on her early morning walk – with her shadow friend

Then we went for a walk around Santa Eulàlia. The town’s full name is Santa Eulàlia de Ronçana which I jokingly think of as Santa Eulalia the Snorer. Roncar means to snore in Catalan but in fact Ronçana has nothing to do with that, except in my wicked imagination!

The town is typical of the region in that there is a lovely part around the old church and you can see how it must have been before the 1950’s when uncontrolled development of urbanisations turned it into the sprawly mess it is now. Walking through and around it you can see the good and the bad and it’s very sad that this happened to villages that were once full of character and now are giant housing estates with little character except where it peeps through in the old parts. This is the case with so much of the Valles Oriental. It’s too close to Barcelona and got suburbanised.

But then you are walking by the river and suddenly there is a feeling of countryside and times gone by. We came upon this Mas which was used in the Civil War to house refugees from occupied areas of Spain that had been taken over by Franco. I can’t remember the name of it now and a search on google hasn’t found it so I will have to add it later

The web site of the Santa Eulàlia Council has descriptions of many of the place of interest in the area. It is in Catalan and the stories about some of the old houses and farms are really well written. There is so much sadness in much of this landscape – the memories of the war and of the life that was ruthlessly destroyed during the 60’s and 70’s. There are still people who remember the old Santa Eulàlia and it must be hard seeing now the ugly buildings, the rubbish littering the edges of the river, the loss of green space.  So much of Catalunya – and of Spain – was violated in this way.

We saw a ginger cat prowling in a field by the path which reminded me of my dear old Dandelion in Cornwall.  Pep said ‘now all we need is to see Paris and Mazey (the other two Cornish ones)’  A few yards further on we came on these two – identical markings to Paris and Mazey!

 It was late but the restaurant near the church was happy to serve us something to eat. We shared a ‘truita d’alls tendres’ which is basically an omelette’s with young garlic plants.  At the bar was this little cupboard with figures of Joseph Mary and Jesus inside. It has doors so you can close it off when it is being moved.  I have again failed to find out what is the name of this thing although my partner called it a Sagrada Familia.  He remembered them being used in Granollers. They are shared between various households and throughout the year they move from home to home. An ambulatory altar!

So that was a Sunday walk – for once on flat ground and it was interesting to explore another place.


Promises

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

At the beginning of this year I wrote about some promises I made to myself and now as we start a new month I want to take a look at how I’ve been getting on with them.

Vegetarian – I have kept to this promise except for one occasion when I ate a thin slice of free range chicken. I had made lunch and discovered too late that the home made burgers I had defrosted were not the vegetable and hazelnut ones but were beef.  I had also prepared chicken for the Resident Adolescent so  I decided to have a piece of that rather than eat the non organic beef. Eating out has been fine and I am now asking in restaurants what they have for vegetarians.

Smoking – It is now 4 months since I stopped smoking and I haven’t wanted to smoke at all in this time. I know it is dangerous to say so but I really do feel it is for good this time. I stopped for positive reasons – for health of course but mostly because I want to connect more with the energy of my heart chakra and I think smoking creates a barrier to that.

Coke and Tescos  Absolutely no problem with keeping away from them!

Catalan for two weeks  I really did try with this but it didn’t feel as successful as last year. I definitely spoke more Catalan but I can feel I am resisting it at the moment. Will try a fortnight again in February. I know it is the ONLY way to improve.

Forgiveness and Sending out Love  An ongoing process. I do still get angry and frustrated and hurt but at least I remember quickly what I decided to do and I have a go at doing it.

Kitchen Sink This has been wonderful. I have no problem cleaning it every day and when I was away I actually missed doing it!  If you think that is crazy then you haven’t tried it. I don’t even mind when someone makes it dirty again.  I just have it in my head as one of my jobs and do it like a meditation. Actually I think that the others are keeping it cleaner too – not deliberately, well not the Res.Ad. anyway but just because it so often looks sparkly it is harder to leave it in a mess.
 

So, I’m quite pleased with progress and am starting February with some more promises and pacts.
I think it helps to make them public so I will draw up a list once I have decided exactly what I can promise to do.  And of course all the above will continue, including the kitchen sink which is now very easy!

The Crazy Stepmother from Hell

~ Kate Wilson ~ 6 Comments

There are so many changes to adapt to when you move to another country that sometimes it is hard to know where or who you are.
But for me the most challenging thing has been without doubt the change from childless independent woman to evil step-mother.
I had to create another blog to write about that as it has been a steep learning curve and I needed to create a safe place to explore many difficult feelings and experiences.  I was trying so hard to be nice – yet getting in touch with terrible anger and even hatred. If you want to read about people facing difficult emotions then go and read online Stepparent Forums. Noone prepares you for what it is like in reality and there are a lot of people suffering out there and often blaming themselves.

I went through an interesting process today, out walking Bonnie in the park and mulling things over as usual.  I felt myself shift from tired beaten down victim who wants to run away……. to someone who could stand up for herself and fight her corner. I don’t like fighting – surely people can just be nice to each other?  Can’t they?  Well, sometimes that just isn’t going to happen.

Here’s the story.

Don’t Judge
If you have never been a stepparent please don’t judge what I tell you. It is nothing like being a parent – it is much more complicated and in my opinion, harder. And being a stepmother is not the same as being a stepfather. Those fairy tales weren’t joking – stepmothers have a raw deal and it’s no wonder they can get murderous.
In the beginning
I came onto the scene when the boy was 14 – entering adolescence. I have never known him as a normal child.  Never seen him being loving or entertaining or cuddly like small boys can be.  I have no memories of his eyes lighting up when he sees me, nor of him running to me for a hug when he is hurt. I arrived for the worst bit without any shared happy history.  We haven’t been through a bonding experience like mothers and babies do from the beginning
He hates me
I didn’t expect that.
I probably arrived with absurd notions about parenting.  I don’t have my own children and I had no experience at all of what is involved in being a step-parent.  None of my friends had step children and I have never had a step family myself.  I now know that of course a child will hate the person who intrudes into their home and takes away attention from them.
Whatever the original parental relationship was like, it had one strong common bond – The Child.
I arrived and although I wanted to make a relationship with The Child, he didn’t want one with me. His survival does not depend on me and in fact I am an obstacle in his life. I come between him and his father.
He is a boy so doesn’t express his emotions.  He tolerates me so long as I don’t get in his way. But if I come between him and his desires then it becomes obvious. He hates me.
Language
Obviously we have an added difficulty in that we don’t share the same language. Luckily for me he speaks quite good English and I quickly decided to only speak that with him. If I struggle to talk in Spanish or even worse Catalan, it puts me in a very inferior position and he has even less respect for me than he does already.  He is an expert at the raised eyebrow, the silent putdown.
For the first year our main meeting point was the dinner table where he and his father spoke in Catalan and I sat in grumpy silence, trying to understand what was going on.
I actually learnt a lot of Catalan in those days as the conversations were fairly repetitive. Food. School. Homework. That sort of thing.
There were many times when I was totally lost about what was happening as he spoke with his father about plans or trips or events or, more often than not, things that he wanted to have.  Of course he used to turn on me if I intervened and sneer ‘you don’t know what we are talking about so mind your own business’.
Language also affects how I relate to his friends. It is awkward enough talking with monosyllabic teenagers but I am at a great disadvantage as I can’t be natural and chat and joke in a light manner. Usually they ignore me and talk with his father. If I say something I see terror in their eyes –  I might suddenly burst into English and they might have to answer.
Adolescence
I am told he is a normal adolescent. If that means lying, being rude, swearing a lot, missing school, not doing any homework, refusing to help in the house, stealing money and using our credit cards, playing online poker, looking at food on his plate and saying he won’t eat that shit, not showering without being paid, never cleaning his teeth and spending ALL his awake home time on the computer or mobile phone, then yes, he is a normal adolescent.
Mothering
If mothers always get the blame then what about stepmothers?
My partner’s family complained that I wasn’t playing the mother role in the house. Perhaps it was a compliment that they thought me capable of mothering someone who had so little desire to be mothered.  And in what way was I qualified for this important job?  Just because I am a woman?
Did they think I could make everything better?    This was actually quite an interesting introduction into mother-blame.  Never having been a mother before I hadn’t understood quite how crazy with rage this sort of thoughtless stupid remark can make you.

So, this morning I was walking, mumbling to myself about how I can’t live one more moment with someone who doesn’t want me in their life, who doesn’t like me and who sometimes actively hates me when ……..

….suddenly I received some help from the ethers.
I realised that I am much stronger than I believe.
How can I be so scared of a 17 year old baby who has no money, inadequate social skills, not very good job prospects and at the moment, no qualifications?
I have a bad habit of feeling small and vulnerable and getting stuck in despair but of course there is a part of me that is tough as boots. I just need to remember it!
Years ago I  took an intensive five year survival course in character building at the school of bad relationships when I was in love with someone with borderline personality syndrome.  After that brush with madness (and I am talking about my own there), surely a stroppy, selfish, lazy, rude and spoilt adolescent should be a doddle in the park?

PS I can’t say often enough that if you have never been in this situation then you can’t know what it is like. I used to believe that stepmothers should be patient and understanding and loving and mature. Stepchildren have often been through horrible family breakups and need help not negativity. 

But that was before I actually lived this situation.  We are only human and adolescents can be bitingly cruel and cleverly manipulative.  And deep down, they don’t want you there.  Yes they may be wonderful people underneath but sometimes it takes a saint or a doormat to stay loving and open.  Birth parents find it hard enough but they have a magic potion called unconditional love flowing in their veins. We are expected to be good parents without any help – magical or from society.  Add to this the language and cultural differences and perhaps you can see what I am talking about.