I think it was the year they burned the convents. I hope the good Lord doesn’t remember them, and in the village there was a storm that destroyed all the crops and left us poor as Job’s turkey and my husband said to me, “Let’s go to Barcelona, that way the boy’ll learn more than if we stay here, a farmer’s always a farmer, but a gentleman is always a gentleman.” And my brother, who had money ’cause he was the oldest and got everything, he had it good, good since the day he was born, well he bought the house and the fields so as to raise the value of his property, ’cause he could and we couldn’t, and when we got to Barcelona we had a little money, but bit by bit we lost it all, ’cause my husband couldn’t find work right away and the boy was already sickly, and doctor here doctor there till good-bye to the money my brother gave us for the house and the land. And all on account of the water, ’cause without that spell of bad weather, what must have been punishment for burning Barcelona, and the good always pay for the sinners and we had to pay ’cause the land was by the river and on a slope and the water carried everything away…

Help yourself, if you’d fancy some, it’s not good to be feeling weak and you know it’s the stomach that carries us along. I remember how we all went hungry . . . Take a peek, a little omelet, ah eggs, the eggs are fresh this week. When I lived in Barcelona every Sunday we used to go to Tibidabo and we took lunch with us, but I was always afraid of the eggs in Barcelona on account of they were eggs that were kept. Want a little bit of ham? Just a little slice? Don’t say no, you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s nourishing but it doesn’t make you feel stuffed. I used to go and wash clothes for some senyors who had four maids and a man just to open the door, his name was Julio, and the gentleman he was tall and thin and wore glasses of gold and Carmeta—that was the lady’s maid—she told me he was head of a political party and every once in a while he had to escape to France with no time to pack his bags, on account of Catalan being so persecuted...

...em sembla que era l`any que van cremar els convernts, oi?, que Nostre Senyor no els ho tingui en compte, al poble hi va haver un temporal que es va emportar tota la collita i ens va deixar a la misèria, i el meu marit va dir: "Anem a Barcelona i així el noi sabrà més que si ens quedàvem aquí, que un pagès sempre és un pagès i un senyor sempre és un senyor." I el meu germà, que tenia diners perquè era l'hereu i tot li venia de cara i això ja ho tenia del néixer, va comprar la casa i el camp per fer-ho anar enlaire, que ell podia i nosaltres no podíem, i quan vam arribar a Barcelona teníem uns quants diners, però de mica en mica els vam anar perdent, perquè el meu home no va trobar feina de seguida i el noi ja era de mena malaltís, i metge per aquí i metge per allà, i bona nit i bona hora la picossada de diners que ens havia dat el meu germà per la casa i el camp. I tot per culpa de l`aigua, perquè sense el temporal, que devia caure per càstig de la crema de Barcelona, sempre paga el just pel pecador i ho vam pagar nosaltres perquè les terres tiraven cap al riu i feien baixada i l’aigua s’ho va endur tot cap avall...

...si en vol ja en pot agafar... la debilitat és una cosa molt dolenta i ja se sap que el ventre porta les cames... amb la gana que hem passat tots plegats... Sí, miri, una truiteta, oh els ous, els ous són de la setmana. Quan vivia a Barcelona cada diumenge anàvem al Tibidabo i ens endúiem el menjar, però a mi sempre em feien por els ous de Barcelona perquè són ous guardats. Vol una miqueta de pernil? Un tallet? No digui que no, que no sap el que es deixa perdre. Això alimenta i no enfarfega... Jo anava a rentar la roba a casa d’uns senyors que tenien quatre minyones i un criat només per a obrir la porta, que es deia Julio, i el senyor era alt i prim i duia lentes d’or, i la Carmeta, que era la cambrera, em va explicar que era el principal d’un partit i que de tant en tant havia de fugir a França sense temps per fer les maletes, perquè això del català era molt perseguit...