Three Blogs is Hard to Handle

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

Julie my fellow blogger from Barcelona, apart from inviting me to eat wrinkly spicy potatoes, also discussed blogging with me and gave me some helpful suggestions.

I described my current difficulty in keeping up with writing three blogs – not only do I not write regularly, I am now writing less often than when I had only one.

Three blogs?  

Yes I’m afraid I have been expanding and now it seems I need to deflate.

1 The Catalan Way

I began The Catalan Way not long after I arrived in Barcelona and used it for pretty much everything that I wanted to describe in my new life.  Sometimes I wrote about culture, sometimes about food and shopping, and sometimes about history.  Then there was daily life to describe and of course, I used it  to explore my own responses to this massive change in my life.
I have never had a large readership and therefore don’t receive many comments on my writing.  It’s amazing how many people feel shy about writing in a public forum. But people do sometimes let me know what they think and I soon noticed there were two groups of readers.  One lot love reading about modernism or Barcelona street life or the politics of Catalunya or anything informative.  The other group enjoys more my stories about finding my way in a foreign land.  As the years have passed I have experimented with different ways of writing and always wanting to improve my skills and to find more readers, I have tried to write both what pleases me and also what others enjoy reading. 


2 The Wicked Stepmother

I began to worry that I was writing in too personal a style and as that also impacts on the other people in my life here I started a second blog – one that was to remain anonymous and private.  I wrote there about my life as a step-mother living with the person I have referred to as the resident adolescent.  As anyone knows who has been in this position it is impossible to be a successful step-mother.  Failure is unavoidable and as I had no previous experience it took me a long time to realise I was only playing a part and not creating it.  I have been a complete failure if the test of success is a happy relaxed relationship with your stepchild.   Who knows what the future may reveal but I still cling to the hope that I have done some good.

In case you are interested there are four markers for having an especially difficult experience as a stepmother
1. The birth parents should not have an easy ongoing relationship
2. The stepmother should not have any children of her own
3. The stepchild should be between 11 and 16 when you first arrive in their life
4. The father should be someone who wants to be a friend rather than a father

I met all these criteria with the added ingredient that we do not share a language or culture.

3 About Granollers

I live in a town called Granollers and it is not my chosen place to settle down. For my first years here I was always planning our escape to somewhere more interesting, more peaceful, more beautiful. But here we were and here we stayed, in part because the resident adolescent needed some form of stability and it seemed unfair to make him live in the countryside just because we would prefer it.  So, I decided to start writing about this town which is almost totally unknown outside the region. 
Who has heard of Granollers?  When I first came here I couldn’t even pronounce the name.  
I started my new blog About Granollers intending to do lots of research about the history as well as to describe life here in all it’s ordinary glory. The Guardian newspaper once described Granollers as ‘a non-descript Catalan town’ and my aim was to put this right.
In my talk with Julie she suggested that I bring together these three blogs and try again to write here in The Catalan Way about all of my life rather than keeping them separate and distinct. 

Any thoughts?  

Memories of Gozo

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

I went up to Barcelona this weekend to meet up with a fellow blogger and her cocker spaniel Inca.  She writes here!
I met them in Poble Sec where I spotted this thin stripey building

We had a lovely lunch in a Canarian restaurant. 
 Is that the right adjective to use?  The food was from the Canaries.

I once went to Gozo, near Tenerife for winter sunshine and to get rid of my annual Cornish bronchiatis.

I remember this holiday for three things mainly

1. My friend complained on the first night that I was breathing too loudly and keeping her awake so I spent the entire week sleeping on the sofa
2. While she drove around the island in a hired car, I went for a boat trip which included lunch on board and a lot of Canarian wine. The sea was rough and it was very invigorating sitting at the prow and being pitched up and down over the waves.  
I became so absorbed in watching a very attractive fellow passenger that I followed him off at the wrong port and had to shout for the boat to let me back on to take me home.
3. I then went to cool myself down with a swim in the sea and as the Atlantic waves are quite fierce on those shores I got knocked over and lost my glasses in the swell. 

Actually there were four memorable things

4. For the first time I ate Papas Arrugadas – the wonderful wrinkly potatoes with green and red spicy sauce. I have never tasted them again until yesterday in Poble Sec

News from our Home

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

What is life like now – after Bonnie?

In some ways I still don’t know – it is early days and I am aware of a process that always happens after a death.  You just get on with things and as time passes and takes you further and further away from the old life, you pass through various stages of grieving. First there is the public phase but gradually it all moves inside your head and heart and you don’t really talk to anyone about it any more. People stop asking how you feel and before you know it the name isn’t often mentioned. 

But Bonnie is on my mind almost all the time.

I have got past the ‘first time’ for so many things – the first walk, the first visit to the vet, the first day on the beach. Haven’t been down to the parks yet but then why would I go?

Today I am going back to Sant Nicolau for the ‘first time’.  I am looking forward to it as I feel I left Bonnie there and I want to return and hope to feel her presence – I haven’t felt her near me yet.

I was thinking about death and grief and customs.   Last week I saw a friend who I hadn’t seen for many months.  She told me that she hadn’t known that my brother died two years ago and only just read about it on the blog.  She apologised for not having said anything before.  I replied that I had assumed she had her own reasons for not mentioning it.  Afterwards I felt bad – as if I had accused her of something rather unkind while the truth was that there were many people at that time who did behave strangely, not exactly crossing the street but certainly not inquiring too deeply.  I came to expect it.  One person in our Catalan family sent a message to my partner asking him to pass on his condolence.  Even though he had my mobile phone number and could have written directly to me!   
I try to forget that but it still niggles.  It is true that people have their own ways of responding to another’s grief and each mourner has their own way of expressing what they feel – or not.  I tend to come out on the side of communication and expression but it was interesting for me to notice that with my friend – the one I met last week – I hadn’t dared to bring the subject up.  She said nothing so neither did I.  I just assumed she knew (from my blog and my Facebook entries at that time) and then I kept quiet. It was entirely down to me that she had been meeting me unaware for almost two years.   If you are reading this – I am so sorry.

When my brother died I didn’t write too much about it as it was a shared grief with the rest of my family and I thought others would want privacy.  But when Bonnie died it felt like ‘my grief.    I was able to write about it as much as I wanted and did so – even while worrying that some readers would find it too emotional. Perhaps some of you did but I know there were others who appreciated it.

This summer it will be two years since my brother’s death and as I was preparing lunch today a passing feeling made me pause in what I was doing. The feeling was of pain and the attached thought was ‘sometimes it is unbearable to me that he is dead’.   I then asked myself who I could commuicate this feeling to and realised it isn’t that simple. People might not know what to say in reply and it would be awkward.  I didn’t need to tell anyone but I thought it was amazing how strong it was – just for a flash of a moment.

So I am writing it here – here where god knows who is reading and I won’t know your reaction or have to feel your discomfort.  I am not looking for sympathy or trying to manipulate you into writing back to me.  I really am fine but it feels important to writes about grief in a way that is real for me.  How do we know what goes on for other people in the privacy of their hearts and minds?  Death is something totally natural and yet we can feel alone when it touches our lives. Mostly life goes on as normal and then there are moments when you touch the emotion and it is raw and alive, then this too passes.  I always find it strange that at the beginning people talk a lot, and then they stop. they might mention the individual who has died but they rarely say how it is affecting them,

We have a candle lit for Bonnie on the dresser in the living room and a new large photo of her on the wall.  Today I can go to collect her ashes at last and have them with me until I decide where to scatter them.   Do you think it is odd having your dogs ashes at home?  And where should they be kept?
Does anyone know if there is a problem taking ashes on an airplane?

Noone in my partners family has said a word about Bonnie’s death. From the lesson learnt after my brother died I am think I should write and tell them. Then if they fail to respond I can  take it from there. Soon there will be family events and I will meet them so it is better to confront this issue in advance otherwise I am going to meet them feeling even more distant than I do already.

Life and relationships – complicated aren’t they?  I wish we could all speak more openly about everything we feel. Having things in your head that noone else ever says is a lonely way to live. That is why it is so important for me to voice things – not because I think my feelings are so important but because I imagine other people out there who might feel better if they knew there were not alone.

Here is a photo I found today of Bonnie’s mother and siblings. There is Bonnie sucking away in the middle.  I hate that she was probably the first to die. So sad


I have been busy and going out a lot which is wonderfully distracting.  My last post described just such a day in Barcelona visiting the Hospital San Pau.  I am planning trips to Menorca, Scotland, Norfolk, Granada.  I am doing my exercises every day and baking bread and have started a new course Immunity to Change which is hopefully going to help me be a better and more confident me.  I am looking at dogs on the street and wondering what I can do to help animals here in Catalunya but I am scared to start working in a shelter as I can’t bring any home with me yet. Not yet.

I am also hugging this lovely loveliness as often as I can – 5 months today! 

If you got this far – thank you!  No apologies for the length – I just felt like writing. That’s all for now.

Open Doors at Hospital Sant Pau – but not for long!

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

On Monday I went up to Barcelona to meet a friend and we went to visit the recently restored modernist hospital of Sant Pau.  Until March 16th you can go and wander round this amazing place for free but after that some parts will be used as offices and as a conference centre and only a small part will be open to the public as a museum

There are 12 buildings in this huge complex and a landscaped garden with orange trees

It was constructed between 1902 and 1930 and is a must see for anyone interested in architecture in general and modernism in particular. I had no idea it would be so magnificent – everywhere you turn it is WOW!


For four years it has been under restoration with European grants and although some parts are still being worked on there are several buildings open for viewing

The buildings were the work of the famous Catalan architect Lluis Domenech i Montaner

The origens of the hospital go back to the 15th century when the Consell de Cent (the old parliament) brought together six Barcelona hospitals and started building the Hospital of Sant Creu. At the beginning of the 20th century the banker Pau Gil funded the construction of a new hospital to provide care for a rapidly rising city population, The result was the Hospital Sant Pau
He wanted his initials to be an integral part of the building  – so you find P and G in many designs

I am not going to go on any more about the history – we need all the space for pictures

I thought this was the caduceus but I now find it is the Rod of Asclepius which has only one snake

The caduceus has two snakes and wings and was the staff of the god Hermes.  Asclepius is a god of healing and medicine. The original Hypocratic oath began with the evocation ” I swear by Apollo the Physician and by Asclepius and by Hygieia and Panacea and by all the gods…..”



The ceilings are worth a post to themselves

and the windows

 designed to let in the maximum light. They knew about light and space and the importance of beauty

Imagine being in a hospital ward with these roses all around the walls

Here is a picture of the women’s ward when it was fully funcioning

The exterior walls are also full of interesting details

The restoration has been as environmentally friendly as possible. The whole complex is heated using a geothermal system with all components hidden underground.  It is incredible to think of all the work that went into creating this restoration. One of the exhibition displays likened it to healing a very sick patient – first the diagnosis which revealed terrible deterioration and years of neglect, then creating a plan and making decisions, followed by intensive treatment  and now finally the result – a potentially vibrant and inspiring place to visit and work.

The pictures speak for themselves – this is an incredible place and if you have the chance to see it before March 16th then go!














Bonnie’s Story – Part Five – A Full Life

~ Kate Wilson ~ 7 Comments



Last September when we returned from the UK I was hardly able to walk as the tendinitis in my left ankle was getting worse rather than better. Of course this had an impact on Bonnie as I had to find new ways to make sure she had enough exercise.  We did more town walks normally ending up in a cafe in the sunshine

Or we went along the river path with me on the bike and Bonnie bounding along beside me.  On one of these bike rides I noticed she was slowing down – instead of me racing to catch her it was the other way around. A subtle change but I noticed it and stored it away

In October some of my family came to have their first holiday at Sant Nicolau.   It was a good opportunity to see how much Bonnie had changed over the years.  She used to be famous for barking at strangers – anyone arriving at my house would have to pass a collie test before they could approach her.  Almost before saying ‘Hello’ I would have told them, speaking over loud barks, “Please ignore her, don’t look at her, don’t try to touch her for at least half an hour. DON’T LOOK AT HER”

But living in Granollers helped her to trust life and people more.  We walked so often through the town with children running about or whizzing by on scooters, there were lots of dogs, cars, motorbikes, the constant scream of the ambulance sirens.  Living with the Resident Adolescent got her accustomed to visitors coming and going, large groups of tall gangly boys would walk past where she lay sleeping and she would hardly bother to lift her head. In general they would ignore her – not because I asked them to but they weren’t interested and so perhaps she didn’t feel they were a threat.

My ankle stopped me doing many things which in a way was a gift as I spent more time at home with Bonnie. She was quite happy to potter around the nearby parks, to come with us to the beach and play on the sand


 And to go out in the car at weekends for longer walks with Pep while I sat in the sunshine and read

These stripped trees are cork oaks

In early November we went to explore another part of the Costa Brava near Palafrugells. It was sunny and extremely windy and in the evening we looked for a hotel to stay overnight.  Llafranc is a lovely village by the sea, the sort of place you dream of settling down in for the rest of your life. The first hotel didn’t accept dogs but the second one was very welcoming and gave us a beautiful room overlooking the bay.   I loved that place and it will always remain in my memory as our last holiday together before we found out Bonnie had cancer.

When we returned home I noticed that same night that she had trouble climbing the stairs to the bedroom.  Again thinking I was being over-anxious I took her to the vet the next day. After the Erlichiosis attack I was always quick to pick up signs of possible aenemia as you never completely clear the system of the parasite and it could reappear.  But this time the bad news was different, and worse. After X-rays and ultrasound as well as blood tests they decided to operate as there was a large mass in her abdomen.  We had to wait for biopsy results to be sure but just the look of the tumour convinced them it was a lymphoma and fairly untreatable.

There are two types of lymphoma – one is multicentric and results in lumps which can be felt superficially around the body. This type can be treated with chemotherapy and has high success rates for remission. The other sort is an internal tumour, often attached to the intestines and is less common and extremely aggressive. We had this one.

We were told Bonnie had 4-6 weeks to live

She actually lived for 14 more weeks

Every week was a victory and at the time I felt very proud that she was so well, happy and alive in spite of the poor prognosis.  Never give up hope – or not until they do

We ticked off each week as a gain and at our fortnightly visit the vet was surprised how well she was.

I spent hours researching remedies, diets, supplements, and was in contact with several groups of people on the internet who are using alternative remedies to treat their dogs with cancer.  If I had relied on the vet I would have despaired. They had nothing to offer except regular visits and blood tests and a lot of caring concern

Life for Bonnie continued with walks and games and my full time attention. I was lucky to be able to drop almost everything else and just be with her. The problem with having been told 4-6 weeks is that you can’t forget it and so I was on constant alert for signs that she was in pain or the tumour was about to explode or block her digestive tract. If I had known we had that little bit longer then I could have relaxed in those early weeks. But living on a knife edge is not very relaxing.
At this time we spent a lot of time outside together, walking and then sitting on benches just being quiet and watching the world

We were very close and had some of our happiest times just relaxing into the present moment

A high priority was to stay somewhere in the country and so I rented out one of the apartments at Sant Nicolau.  It was the best decision I made and we drove up and down between there and Granollers just when the mood took us.  We spent weeks up there, just being together, it was lovely

Every time we drove up there my heart would lift at that moment when the fields spread out in front of the car and in the distance you see the mystical peaks of Canigo. And Bonnie would start to squeal as soon as she felt the car turn onto the bumpy lane

I am not going to revisit all the ups and downs of Bonnie’s battle with cancer. It is an incredibly intense experience as anyone will know who has cared for a sick animal.  The hardest part is not being able to ask them if it hurts. Knowing they will hide their suffering as long as possible means that you are constantly alert for signals that the time has come
Through all this we continued to explore Catalunya. Here we are at Sant Aniol in the interior of the Emporda beyond Besalu. It was a long walk but Bonnie continued to surprise us all with her strength

One piece of advice I read was to keep offering new activities and as collies love to learn we decided it was time Bonnie not only brought back the ball but put it in your hand.  Like this
She practised and practised over these months and it was lovely to see her eventually tossing the ball casually into Peps hand as if to say  ‘there you are, what’s next?’

We celebrated New Year at Sant Nicolau and on January 1st a stray kitten arrived in our lives.
We called her Phoenix and she immediately snuggled up to Bonnie even while she remained suspicious of us

Back in Granollers Phoenix gained confidence and Bonnie at last was allowed up onto the sofa – don’t forget that for Catalan people this is quite an honour

On February 17th I decided to take her up to Sant Nicolau again for some country air.  I was caught between wanting her to be in the countryside and yet fearing she would take a turn for the worse when I was alone and more isolated.   She had stopped eating well and continued with terrible diarrhoea.  It was getting harder to give her the remedies as she was so picky about what went into her mouth. I felt we were getting near the end and I wanted her to be somewhere green.
Chosing between fear and love – I suddenly thought I had to go to the place we both loved – my fears might be no more than a spectre.  We would cope.

We had a good day pottering in the garden and taking little walks. The almond blossom was out

Then she had a night where she was in pain.  Neither of us slept and I knew I would call the vet in Figueres in the morning and help her to go.  We went out at dawn to visit Blue’s grave and then to the church that adjoins the property. As I was singing to her in the church Bonnie went outside and when I followed her out she had disappeared.  After half an hour calling her name I found Helen and together we searched the immediate area for over two hours.
The house is surrounded by thick woods and I lost hope but kept calling, growing ever more desperate.  Was this going to be the nightmare end of everything?

I won’t keep you wondering – no it wasn’t.  Mobile phones don’t work there but when I rang home to Granollers I found that someone had called to say Bonnie was at their house.
Thank God for collar tags!  Thanks also to Saint Francis, Saint Anthony and Amma who answered my prayers.   It was like suddenly being rescued from hell.
She had not crept under a bush but kept walking for about an hour till she reached their farm.   I don’t think she was running away from me – only from the disease and perhaps instinct told her to keep going till it all would stop.

We brought her back, very tired but very peaceful.  There seemed to be no more pain.  We slept together for a while with me crying, mostly from relief to have her soft furry body back beside me. How does anyone survive the grief of losing and not being able to find?  It never would get better

So that is how our story ends. Bonnie had her second great walkabout adventure – perhaps remembering the little 12 week old puppy who went missing in the woods in Lamorna and survived. Later that afternoon she left this world surrounded by a circle of friends – Pep came from Granollers, Helen sat with Lucy dog nearby, I held her head cupped in my hands and the same vet who came to help Blue, arrived with her gentle needles and kind smile.  I felt a lightness pass through my heart as she died and I knew she was free

Dear Bonnie Thank you for all the love See you next time   XXXXX