This post is dedicated to Agnieszka
Yes, my life is made of little things. I like to discover them from graphite time when clouds and crows look to my window. So, sometimes I have the day marked of crispy bread, or, like last Friday, marked by notebooks. Then I feel simple happiness. Although it is fragile, I do not want to bind it, because I know that somewhere, once again it will charm me with its small motion.
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Volunteering connects diverse people because helps us to break out of the comfort zone. This is always the beginning of the adventure with the community but also with ourselves.
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There is a cobalt sky behind the window, and a well-known house with a red door. Colourful lights hung on a curtain rod shine with peace. Its glow is reflected in the chocolate cup saucer.
I take out a small table and blue chopping board on it. Next to it, on the sofa, there are old magazines, extraordinary papers, scraps, and a pencil case with liners, scissors, and glue.
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Today we celebrate International Volunteer Day. On this occasion, I would like to introduce you to my volunteer friends: Sita Karki and Hugh Murphy.
They were born in various countries, are completely different ages and have other passions. But equally, they share a big heart and volunteer work as Wave Makers for the European Capital of Culture Galway 2020.
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Think you are escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.
James Joyce
My town has eyes as deep as the Atlantic. When the sun sometimes blinks, the eyes of the town turn into chestnut doggies, running and enjoying the streets without rain.
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Even if something undesirable happens in our life, it always has many hues. The pandemic of Covid-19 and lockdown have been hard and surspised news for everybody, also for the team of Galway 2020. However Wave Makers not the first time look after the light between clouds. They built the bridges to stay with touch with the local community.
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Many people like to eat porridge for breakfast, and I do it too. Oatmeal was reportedly popular as early as the Bronze Age. But do you have your own story with porridge? Mine is very simple and lives in my heart.
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Outside the window is a November grey, cars move along the wet street, but their noise reminds me of the sound of the sea. The flame of a cinnamon candle lights up my kitchen, where I write letters to residents of nursing homes.
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I cannot imagine my life without a bike. Ever since I can remember, the bicycle has always motivated me to the adventure. Even if I was riding to the store on the same street.
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In Galway, outside the window graphite clouds and wet asphalt. But in my kitchen, Spain is sitting at the table, because for several mornings I enjoy Pan con tomate.
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