Halfway Over the Hill

( Reading time  - 5  book pages of text ~ 2300 words ) 11th July - Morning has broken and you rise from your bed with a question. Indoors or outdoors? In the city it doesn't matter: the angry roar and choking stench of traffic or the dance of fury of hundreds of dissatisfied lives, pounding on the percussion walls of your appartment cell. Here in Abruzzo, the open air beckons. I step out at dawn and am immediately welcomed by the orchestral hum of teeming, unseen life and a caressing breeze of dew-drop freshness. I raise my head to drink in the view and every time, without fail, I am arrested by the silent call of the ageless hills. Their eternal youth enveloping me in their warm embrace. The still, inescapable hills are a reminder that Old Mother Earth is here beneath your feet and they put your half-century of worries into perspective. And although we live in a time of doom-laden horizons and it feels like the beginning of the end of the world; the hills uplift me with t

I have stalled on the 'Earth & Air' sequel for lack of information so here is just a filler. How to clean: The best way to clean is to avoid doing it as much as possible i.e. you must develop a strategy that will bring about a situation of low cleaning necessity, primarily achieved by radically lowering your standards. I have a different take on Quentin Crisp's famous saying: Dirt only gets dirty after five years* Now of course that is a bit of an exaggeration. I expect you to clean at least once a year. But we can go one better and aim for a monthly clean. You could get a cleaning person but as most cleaners will only clean an already clean house, that is not really an option for me. Don't be alarmed, I have (almost) never achieved Life of Grime (tv doc) levels of insalubrity. I have my daily shower every other day and I actually take pleasure in hearing the churn of the washing machine on its 15-minute cycle, and hanging out clean laundry on the line is ev

About Abruzzo:  Not so long ago Abruzzo was one of the poorest regions in Italy but now the inhabitants have a good income owing to all the ugly manufacturing plants that have sprung up along the coast and around big towns. They live work-heavy double lives as factory workers and smallholders. Their croft is their second home, and their main one is in the village or town. Tradition runs deep in this rural community. And I have yet to be initiated into the mysteries of local logic. About me: In my early twenties I considered writing but did not produce a page for over 30 years, despite regularly acquiring beautiful blank notebooks. Motivation sunk like a stone in the slough of despond that we know as depression.  Much has been said about that unenviable state. The universal struggle for self-worth is fought feebly and without conviction.  A child will cry her woes to sullen oblivion. And then, in spite of herself, she will grab the unfinished Book of Life and, turning the page, r

 Fire and Water  ( Reading time -  4 book pages of text ~ 1800 words ) ( N.B. Names have been slightly altered in this narrative. + I will now refer to my neighbour, the Wild One  from previous posts, as Dahlia , this is the Google Voice suggestion for his actual name ) 1st July 2021  Since I planted my saplings mid-May (zucchini and lettuce now ready to harvest) it's only rained once. A few days ago, a whiff of smoke transperced the thick heat. Towards the east, over the line of trees, a haze of smoke veiled the sky. I thought nothing of it, people often have bonfires. Many people had noticed the oddity of a roadside fire and even texted their friends. It was only after twenty minutes, when it had started raging through the woods, did someone think to call the fire brigade. It took three days to put out and it destroyed 70 hectares of pines and olive trees. People gathered to watch, marvelled, and texted their friends. The land is still smouldering today. Yesterday even