Category Archives: Uncategorized

Loving With The Heart Versus Loving with Your Soul…


Living and growing up in US makes very difficult to comprehend the situation in Venezuela.  I always said that my heart belong to the US but my soul will always be Venezuelan.  These days have been horrible because two events, one in Venezuela and one in Boston have made it very confusing and made me realized what it is to love with the heart and what it is to love with your soul…  

Remembering Spirituality


spirituality2After a long time I felt the need to go to church.  I am catholic, but a catholic that lost the faith in church.  I sat on the bench and tried to make sense of the services.  I felt sadness in the people.  The sermon was short, a lot shorter than I expected it.  It made me think about God and the meaning of it in my life.  I left feeling refreshed and happy.  Spirituality is necessary…



2013 – Less coffee, more green tea, fewer worries more fun, fewer people I know, more quality friends, less driving my kids to different activities, more time letting them be kids, less time worrying about making everybody happy, more time being happy with the way things are, more time enjoying nature, less time complaining about the weather, more time hugging my kids, more time smiling, less time trying to be perfect, more time cuddling with my husband, less time making sure my house is perfect, and lastly spending most of my time loving life and appreciating that people aren’t everything, they are the only thing…


The Tragedy of Sandy Hook Elementary – No Rules in My House Tonight …


I never thought I was going to think about Sandy again, but unfortunately it is happening.  In the middle of my Christmas baking I received the terrible news about the shooting in Connecticut at the Sandy Hook Elementary School.  The rest of the afternoon went between my baking and thinking about why all these shootings are happening. 

I thought about the parents of these children and my anxiety became worse.  At 3:00pm  I was there in the school gym. I saw my kids and I realized how important it is to live every little moment that you have with your family.

Tonight we had comfort food, not all seated at the table as usual, but on paper plates walking and watching the news.  There were no rules tonight in my house, no time to be upset, or angry or sad.  We played and played and played.  Right now, as I type I can see my kids falling asleep on our bed. 

Today was one of the happiest day in my life because I got to go get my kids from school… and I learned how to make cake pops for them…


1275 York and Goat Cheese…


Today I returned to 1275 York and learned about goat cheese. Venezuela is one of the countries known for making great goat cheese and I had NO IDEA about it. According to my nutritionist this is the kind of cheese and milk we should be eating. Driving around NYC and remembering the times when I never wished living in a place like this, but later on while walking to go get my car I felt how much I LOVE this city… Once I heard that much of the asphalt on the city streets was purchase from Venezuela. I wonder if that is true… Tonight dead tired again and no energy to write, I wonder again if anyone will read my blog one day. By the way I love goat cheese, I love NYC and I respect 1275 York…




I didn’t know the wind had a voice until I met Sandy.  I had no idea that Sandy could speak so loud.  We lost power in the middle of our spaguetti dinner and we never got it back until ten days later. Sandy was a touch in our hearts of what we felt on September 11. We met a different kind of darkness…

The Avila Mountain


It was not The Avila what I saw everyday when I poked my small head out the door to look outside, but many small houses that seemed so far away from my perfect life.   When I was four years old I was a happy little girl.  The youngest in the family “la bordona” and the most spoiled…  I never bother thinking about those small houses on the big hills “Los Cerros”.  I never imagined that many families inhabited those little lights that twinkled all night with children just like me.

The Avila Mountain was a different kind of mountain; it wasn’t like the hills that I saw everyday.  The Avila was an almost impossible place for a four-year old to visit.  There were so many stories I heard about how difficult it was to climb the Avila that it seemed a very far and impossible place for a four-year old to dream of visiting.  Many nights my dreams were interrupted by the nightmare of the huge ocean wave that would cover the mountain and swallow all of us in one second.

My house was located on the middle of two very high hills.  Many times when I was outside I felt very curious of these two large hills and I wondered if I ever could walk up these mountains and see if the people up there looked and lived like me.  I felt afraid of these hills and I grew up feeling fear from the people who lived on them.

It wasn’t until I became a teenager when I was allowed to experience the Avila.  With a group of friends we decided to go hiking.  Unprepared but full of excitement we changed our minds when we got there and we decided to ride the cable car up and hike down.  This was the day I touched the Avila, the day I finally realized that there were mountains that were green and had no houses.  The day I realized how difficult is to go down when you are on the top.  I knocked at the door and dropped dead tired on the floor.  ”Mama! I met the Avila”.  Being such a fragile young kid, the long excursion made me so sick that I had to stay in bed for two days.

My street was flat and our house was special, and I said special because it was flood-proof.  Heavy rains cause lots of flooding in our neighborhood, but our house always remained intact. So many times I would just sit there during a heavy rain and stared at the streams of water speeding down the hills and just missing our house.   I remember my mom proudly bragging about her house having the perfect site for being flood-proof home.  I never understood why and I think she never did either, but it was just the way our house was.