Eva, Eduard, Helena (10), Nuria (21)

Are these Catalan grandchildren a manufactured figment from my internal dream factory, or are they real? Helena, the youngest, is a Cheshire cat that swallowed a Roman candle peeping from Puck’s pocket — I can’t really craft a metaphor improbable enough to do justice to her complex, zingy, irresistible, bounce-off-the-wall, sometimes piercing, magnetism. This may help: Last night, over tea, she asked if I wanted her to draw me. Glancing up from my iPad, I said, “Sure.” It would require, she added, that I stay still and look continuously at her. Bye-bye, iPad.

(c) 2018 JMN.