What could possibly go wrong?
Montse:
Thirty generations later…
I’m sending you straight to the North Pole with the penguins!!
Agnes:
Who are you tal…?
Uhhhh…???
What is THAT?
Why do you want a village that looks like it’s made of hairy onions???
And look at this one!
Why does this onion look like it listens to heavy metal?
DON’T TOUCH MY MEATBALLS!!
I’VE BEEN THROUGH THIRTY GENERATIONS!!
Professional Experience
Since Year I of The Attic
Responsible for translations into Catalan, Spanish, and American English, ensuring linguistic consistency across The Attic universe while preserving the unique voice of every story.
Ensures that every story retains its rhythm, warmth, and personality across languages.
Contributes to the creation and expansion of the Magical Forest, The Attic, and countless imaginary places that somehow become real.
Specializes in recovering, translating, and interpreting Cebarian manuscripts, forbidden appendices, and documents of questionable origin.
Provides non-binding reports on culinary incidents of an extraordinary nature.
😂
(Aquesta és de les meves preferides en anglès.)
Responsible for organizing and preserving documents that, according to the Aromatic Council, probably should never have been written.
Decree 14/VII on the Protection of Conventual Innocence
Having considered the repeated activities taking place in the cold cellar;
Having reviewed Sister Potato’s prior record;
Having noted that the turnips continue to remain under permanent and inexplicable supervision;
IT IS HEREBY DECREED:
Article 1. Sister Chastity is hereby prohibited from entering the cold cellar.
Article 2. This prohibition shall remain in effect for as long as Sister Potato continues to maintain that she is “merely checking that the turnips are being properly preserved.”
Article 3. Sister Piety shall be the only nun authorized to enter the cold cellar, having been deemed fully immune after years of continuous exposure to the assorted mischievous phenomena occurring therein.
When Mother Patience was asked when this prohibition might be lifted, her official reply was:
“When the turnips no longer require personal supervision.”
Experts consulted unanimously agree that such an eventuality is virtually impossible.
“To prevent recurring debates over whether a cushion is comfortable… or simply resigned.”
The cushions in the refectory shall maintain an angle sufficient to suggest comfort, but insufficient to invite a nap.
Any angle that inspires the remark:
“Oh… this one seems just right.”
shall be considered acceptable.
No further adjustment shall be required.
It is strictly forbidden to fluff a cushion more than three consecutive times.
By the fourth, it ceases to be preparation…
and becomes a conversation.
Should two sisters disagree about the proper position of a cushion…
…Mother Patience’s opinion shall temporarily prevail,
as she usually replies:
“Arrange it however you like… but don’t touch it again afterward.”
Sister Potato maintains that a slightly crooked cushion:
supports the back more comfortably,
aids digestion,
and, when necessary, may also be used to support a serving tray.
The community continues to study these claims.
Sister Piety is strictly forbidden from saying:
“Since we’re at it, let’s turn them all around.”
That single remark was responsible for the complete reorganization of the refectory during the spring of Year XVII.
Sister Chastity asked with complete innocence:
“Do cushions have a front side too?”
Since that day…
every cushion cover change requires an extraordinary meeting.
A cushion shall be considered resigned if, after being fluffed, it settles into exactly the same position as before.
“A resigned cushion.”
Father Gregorius suggested numbering all the cushions.
Father Aurelius slowly looked up from his parchment and asked:
“And afterward… who will number the sisters?”
The proposal was withdrawn before Mother Patience had to sigh.
Should a cushion ever achieve an angle unanimously considered perfect by the entire community…
it shall not be moved.
Not for cleaning.
Not for testing.
Not “just for a second.”
History has shown that it never returns to exactly the same place.
“It was observed that the cushion on the third bench displayed an inclination of twelve degrees and a level of resignation difficult to measure, yet plainly visible to the naked eye.”
Aurelius, weary chronicler of The Attic
“To preserve harmony among spoons, teacups, and people who are excessively optimistic.”
Any spoon that has stirred honey shall be granted an official period of rest.
Not because it needs it.
Because it deserves it.
It is strictly forbidden to place a honey-covered spoon on the table while saying:
“I’ll be right back.”
Experience has shown that nobody ever returns exactly when they intended.
Honey possesses an extraordinary ability to spread into places where, objectively, it has no business being.
This phenomenon remains under investigation by the Institute of Applied Blederiology.
No spoon shall ever be considered dirty.
It shall be considered…
affectionately sticky.
Sister Potato maintains that discreetly licking the spoon prevents unnecessary waste.
Sister Piety replies that no such practice appears in any official regulation.
Sister Potato responds:
“Well, now it does.”
Sister Chastity asked very politely:
“Does honey know it’s sweet?”
The community agreed that the question deserved an entire afternoon of reflection.
Father Gregorius is still thinking about it.
Should a spoon stir honey and then immediately be used to stir an herbal tea…
…someone ought to ask whether it was emotionally prepared for such an abrupt change.
It is strictly forbidden to tap the spoon against the rim of the cup while a drop of honey still remains.
The drop doesn’t disappear.
It simply chooses another destination.
Mother Patience reminds us that spoons need very little to be happy:
a peaceful cup,
a warm herbal tea,
and not being left stuck to the saucer all afternoon.
Any spoon that has faithfully served in a cup of linden tea with honey…
…has earned the right to be washed with special care.
Not because it is necessary.
Because it has earned it.
It is strongly discouraged to ask a spoon whether it is still sticky.
The answer is usually quite obvious.
At the end of the session, Sister Chastity quietly watched a small drop of honey glistening on the spoon.
Then she asked very softly:
“What if it hasn’t finished becoming a drop yet?”
Father Aurelius laid his pen gently on the table.
Mother Patience smiled.
And for a few moments…
no one could find a reason important enough to answer.
