Spanish views from a small town

As I looked at my neglected garden this morning, I realized that we are already in November. Yet, I seem to be missing a chunk of the year. It's always been cold this year, it seems, though we have gone through a kind spring, and a beautiful summer.  There have been no markers to set off any of the different months or seasons. We have been told we have to stay home, and avoid crowds. Festivals have been cancelled, and all sorts of celebrations. We have heard reports of family gatherings that have propagated the virus in communities. Few options are open to us for getting together. It's been a year of the individual. But man is a social animal. That is why there are celebrations at certain points of the year. We have always felt the need as a society to get together and celebrate markers along the year. These are communal festivities that remind us of the passing of time. Without them, the year drags along emptily; we could be in any season or month, and we only have the surroun...

It's our parish festival this weekend. Ours and just about everybody else's. Between this weekend and the next, most of Galicia will be jumping. Last month, around the 16th, there were festivals up and down the entire coast. It was the feast day of the Virxe do Carme , one of the many monikers of the Virgin Mary. O Carme is supposed to protect sailors and others who set out to sea. Hence, the coastal revelry. This month is the anniversary of Mary's Assumption into Heaven (let's leave it at that), and the second round of festivals all over the place. If you want troula (Galician), juerga (Castilian), to paaaarrtyy! (English), Galicia is the place to be in August. Our parish has three days of celebration, each dedicated to a saint venerated in the parish. There's the Virgin Mary (our parish isn't called Santa María for nothing), Saint Roche (don't look at me) and Saint Anne (comprehensible, she was Mary's mother, after all). Each night, except Sunday...

The day for families to gather together and enjoy each other in Spain, is Christmas. To be home for Christmas Eve is what Spaniards all over the world dream of. It's the evening to gather together around the table and eat till we get heartburn. It's when grandparents expect grandchildren they haven't seen since summer or the year before. It's when all the supermarkets close early and people have to be routed out of the aisles with last minute forgotten items. It's when brothers living hundreds of kilometers apart get together and remember childhood battles. It's when businesses close early and bars fill in the afternoon with pre-revelry toasts to friendships. It's the day we give thanks for what and whom we have. But not in the United States. There, the day to get together is Thanksgiving. Yes, thank the Pilgrims. But thank the Pilgrims also for Christmas being in second place. Because the Pilgrims outlawed Christmas. They considered it a "popish...