This year the generation of the ’85 reached the quarter of century. Well, there’s a few who haven’t reached it yet, but they are close. In Sant Quintí de Mediona, people from the ’85 use the passing of time as an excuse to get together at least once a year and keep the ties that joined us when we were kids.
I must say that these events are perfect to me because, as I already said, I’m hard to see. We rarely meet, but when it comes to these events, I’m always there, even if I had to do a balancing act and posses the gift of the ubiquity (and I’m quite gifted ― and possessive).
Everybody says 25 is a significant number, so we wanted to go further than the typical supper and spent a night in a cottage surrounded by trees, the fireplace in the dining room, the attractive swimming pool [note for next years: move the celebrations to summer] and the owner’s pets wandering around.
It’s weird to spend a night with a group of people who lives in the same small village when you turned to an irregular sporadic visitor. But every year they show me that, even being sporadic, I’m still part of the generation of the ’85. It’s wonderful to see that time goes by and you’ll always have a place and a time to go back to.