I needed certain things after the hip operation, like not too many stairs to climb to my bedroom… like not too far to walk from parking my car… the use of a kitchen so I could continue to eat almost all organic.. and where ever I would live, I would have to have access to a pool, any kind of a pool, so I could continue with the twice a day swimming exercises.
Finally the plans all fell into place, but I’d have to move every month . No problem I thought, and it hasn’t been.
As well as starting a new book of travel stories adapted from my blog ( Breakfast with Llamas and other unexpected guests) , the idea is to weave 4 of the cancer stories in amongst the Bolivian and Peruvian tales.
So, I started this project in July, at the magical farmhouse near Colmenar in the mountains behind Malaga. Quite soon I got writers block. The swimming went well. The research went well. I felt very at home at the farmhouse. I loved being there. I had the perfect room to write.
I finally sent off the DNA sample.
This was to be the summer when I would find out for the very first time where my Jewish father came from.
Maybe I come from a Sephardic lineage ? I really passionately hoped I did. The test would tell.
