Spanish views from a small town

Today was a strange Saturday. This morning, I made the last bouquest for the cemetery, and then distributed everything. The rain and fog made the day feel closed in. There were some people, though not as many as other years. This year, it seems many have staggered cleaning, and taking flowers to the cemeteries, over various days, rather than wait for the last two to crowd the place.  While there are beautiful bouquets that are worthy of prizes, and whose creators can be considered artists, there are also a greater number of made-at-home arrangements. The day before, when I went to buy some, there were many fewer flowers to choose from than other years. Many florists stopped taking orders at the beginning of the month. Others aren't hiring as many people as other years, and are doing fewer orders. It seems the virus has also hit the flower production, since there are fewer flowers. But prices don't seem to have risen, either, which means there isn't as much demand as other y...

Halloween was the last day of the year for the old Europeans. As the year died, and the vegetation died, it was considered the day of the dead. The dead were honored by the firesides that night, where a chair was set aside for them, with some food nearby. Halloween has long since become a commericialized festival, gone the way Christmas is going and any other festival anyone can make a cent off. But in Spain it's still the eve of the day of the dead.  Tomorrow the dead are honored here. Cemeteries are visited and flower arrangements are admired. Because that's how we honor our loved ones in Spain. The day before we take flower arrangements to the graves. And, according to local tradition, candles are lit at each tomb, or light bulbs are connected by an electrician with a waiting list of people in different parts of the cemetery. I don't buy a candle or pay for a lightbulb. I light a parrafin lamp at my mother's grave. The flowers used to be home-grown once. But no...