Two shower curtains and the Xmas trees

It’s sábado—Saturday—in Granada, Spain, and it was one of those very typical days: 

going out to do the shopping and getting stuck in traffic along the way.

The town closest to my home and co-living place, Motril, is practical and straightforward. It has the usual Lidl and the Chinese superstore. We came back with two Christmas trees, decorations, and all the groceries needed for the weekend.

Christmas is approaching quickly—just four more days.
It looks like we’ll be busy with cooking and a party, and I’m quietly hoping that both the old and the new will meet in a calmer way this year.

What am I feeling?
Happy. Content. Surprised.

It’s been a very long time since I last had a Christmas tree. The last one that truly mattered in my life was probably when I was married. After that, there was one in a spiritual place, but it carried no real emotional value for me. Last year, I wasn’t even in a house with a tree at all—December and January passed so quickly, almost unnoticed.

Only February brought me into a warm, welcoming home with Marco. I still feel that warmth lingering, and I don’t really mind it staying with me. I seem to like holding on to big, warm, bear-like men—much like my current host.

And so, setting up this Christmas tree with the co-living feels unexpectedly meaningful. It feels like reclaiming something gentle and personal, something I hadn’t realized I missed so much. It feels like having a place that truly becomes home for the season.

There was something beautifully ordinary too: a shower curtain that got bought, hung, and adjusted together with another one for the co-living. Simple, practical moments that somehow carry meaning.

Yes, we’re setting up two houses and two trees. And I have a “rabbit host” taking care of me—the peaceful persona of the Chinese astrological ring. He sees things, knows things, and helps both visibly and invisibly.

I love him: his booming laugh, the deep sighs when he sits down, his broad shoulders and strong presence. It’s a platonic love. 

We truly see one another. I feel his awareness of who I am—his knowing, his gentle probing. 

Every now and then, he gives me a big hug or a gentle nudge of affection. He feels like a wise old grandfather, one I never had.

Loving life.

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