Start a new school year
Good morning, friends,
First of all, apologies, apologies for more than 5 weeks without publishing any writing on our blogs Arc Mediterrani and Arco Atlántico, all of August and the first week of September. The interruption occurred precisely at a time when the two blogs were receiving many daily visits. But now, with this one, "A new course begins", we resume contact with all the friends of the blogs.
We are already in the month of September. For all of us who are or have been teachers, a new academic year begins; we are no longer in the 2025-26 academic year, but in 2026-2027. We are no longer in the course of the total solar eclipse that has been seen complete in Mallorca (and in other places as well), but on the path in which, if there is nothing new, there will be general elections, finally in Feijóo and all his people (how come there are so many?) will see what they have asked in vain (what daily frustration) every day since 2023: that Pedro Sánchez is not president of the state government (even if he is "in office") and that if all the right-wingers who make a pact with PP-Vox, including them, do not achieve an absolute majority, four more years of daily fury, anger and frustration.
We hope that it will be a path of truth and life, of life and love, and not a path of lies and death, of death and hatred.
My 2 and 5 year old granddaughters are excited to start school, they are already looking forward to it. This is a good sign. How different it is from those cases where the child cries because he doesn't want to go to school. Most of them, now, are excited to get together with their peers-friends and play and learn with them.
My classmates and I started the school year with a mass. I remember that one year the brother of a friend said to me:
"I sat down on a bench where there was no one, I sat on the right completely. Shortly afterwards a nun came and, having all the rest of the bench available, wanted to sit on my right: 'Run a little so that I can sit here. After a while another nun came and sat to the right of the first, so the first one and I had to run to the left, and so on until I fell off the bench to the left. These, being a nun, being a nun, were thrown off the bench.'
The previous summer, he, his brother, mine, and I had gone to a camp. On the day of the visit, those who had visitors would leave with their families or visitors and have to return around 6 p.m. Those who didn't have visitors had "free" until the same time. We almost preferred to have "free" than to have "visitor" and at that peak we didn't have a visitor. This companion couldn't say the "rr", sometimes he changed it to an "L" and sometimes to a "u". That day he came to where I go and told me:
- Toni anem a nadar allà on hi ha una loca?
- Hi ha una loca? Tu l’has vista? Li has dit al cap del campament?
- No, una loooca!
- idò això, una loca.
- No!!! Una Loca!!!
Finalment varem descobrir que se referia a una platja en la que hi havia una gran roca quasi tocant l’arena a un costat de la platja.
Another day it was his turn to be a supplier. We all had a table assigned to the dining room. Each day, in turn, at lunch and dinner, someone at the table had to be the supplier: in a closed and elongated basin with two handles, he carried the first course, the second course and the dessert from the kitchen to his table, Noltros; for the most important occasions we wore a beige button-down shirt, but throughout the day, for activities, including lunch and dinner, we wore a blouse without buttons, with a neckline in front and elastic at the waist. When at lunch they played "potatoes", something that only happened two or three times; when the supplier arrived at the table, everyone at the table threw themselves towards the basin and the handfuls of the potatoes, so that when the supplier could put down the potato and have his hands free, there was no potato left. One day, when it was this colleague's turn to act as a supplier and there were fries, when he left the kitchen he stopped, took two handfuls of potatoes and put them in the shirt of his blouse; when he arrived at the table, the members of the table saw that inside the basin there were less than half the potatoes that should have been there.
One day, a group from the tent we were in (there, along with two others, my friend and his brother, my brother and I) woke up about an hour before the time to hit the center and we started a meeting in a low voice, while we beat one named Farratjants, who was still half asleep. It is clear that a little run was coming out of the tent and that the camp boss was controlling the tents from which some noise or light was coming out. Suddenly we saw that the head of the camp, in that case, was Martorell, in green and white striped pajamas, he opened the tent slightly and looked inside; those of us who were in the meeting were silent and went to sleep. When Farratjants noticed that silence in the dry, after the run and the blows, without opening his eyes he emitted a bellow:
"Duis-me el caféee!" Which could be interpreted as "Duis-me el quéfeee!"
So the boss said, "Come on, everyone go out and sign by the mast," so we were firmly by the mast an hour before the target time.
Well, what I said, happy year 2026-27 everyone!
Palma, Sunday, September 6, 2026
Netanyahu, State of Israel, Israeli Army, criminals, murderers, sadists, anthropomorphic pig shit
Long live Palestine and the Palestinians!
Government of the Balearic Islands, Valencia and Madrid. Useless, deficient, bad and harmful (those of Valencia and Madrid, with cause of death).
Long live the islands, and the islanders, Valencia and the Valencians, Madrid and the people of Madrid.
Mediterranean Arc
Atlantic Arc
