by Krista | Nov 8, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
“I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day,
a fresh try,
one more start,
with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.”
J. B. Priestley
Thank you so much for the kindness, hugs and support you gave me yesterday. Just sharing my burden with you made it lighter, and I can face this next round of tests with greater strength and courage. XO
Now let us set aside all thoughts of proddings and pokings and return to the village of Vogogna, Italy where (last week) we explored the medieval Visconti Castle.
Just past this imposing edifice is a bumpy stone trail that wends along behind the castle, over a bridge, and past a small stone cottage.
It is not possible, for me at least, to see such a trail and not feel compelled to follow it. Thankfully such notions also appeal to my English friend Katy, so we gamely set off for parts unknown to see what we could see.
Clad in breezy sundresses and strappy sandals we didn’t look even remotely like mountain climbers, but such trifles are not to be considered when there are adventures to be had.
So up we went the increasingly steep trail, treading carefully on stones worn smooth by countless trekkers.
We passed abandoned stone huts overgrown with vines and bushes, sun-dappled rock walls, and berries, ferns and tiny flowers in the underbrush.
As we trekked higher up the mountain, it felt like we had inadvertently stepped into an Italian version of Heidi.
“Are you tired, Heidi?” Deta asked the child.
“No, but hot,” she replied.
“We shall be up in an hour, if you take big steps and climb with all your little might! ”
Johanna Spyri, Heidi
And we did. 🙂
We stopped often to catch our breath, finding shady spots to rest and visit, turning our heads to catch glimpses of the hazy valley and smoky mountains behind us.
Our legs were burning and lungs bursting when we trudged around a corner and gaped in wonder at a beautiful little mountain village that seemingly appeared out of nowhere: Genestredo.
There were no voices, no slamming of doors or static from a radio.
No people or dogs or vehicles and the only sounds were morning birdsong and the gurgle of water from the village spring.
I don’t know where the inhabitants were, but you could see their mark in tidy courtyards and flower pot lined balconies.
Awash in sunshine and void of noise, the village was indescribably peaceful.
We loved it, and happily wandered the deserted streets dreaming up all sorts of stories about the people who called this tiny place home.
I especially wanted to know who lived in this beautiful stone house with its weathered shutters and overflowing window boxes.
Can’t you imagine flinging open the windows on fine days and leaning out on your elbows to take in views of towering peaks and ancient ruins? Or perhaps sitting on that old bench with a dear friend, nattering about the day and watching the townsfolk pass by?
Sigh. Tis a lovely thing to imagine. 🙂
Next time we’ll continue our trek up the mountain and explore the ruins of an Italian medieval fortress: the Rocca.
Wishing you a beautiful weekend.
xo
by Krista | Nov 8, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
I’m in a lot of pain today. Have been for several months now.
A few months ago I underwent a lot of tests and they’ve been monitoring me since then. Tomorrow I go in for more, and hopefully we’ll have a better handle on what we’re dealing with.
The last few days have been especially bad and the truth is, I’m scared.
I try not to be, of course. I try to think good, cheering thoughts, notions brimming with hope and bravery, but sometimes the very best thing is simply to have a good cry and blurt out all the things I’m scared of: another surgery, inability to have babies, a whole lot more pain.
So I do, and for a while I feel a lot better and can see clearly all the things I have to be grateful for: I’m alive, I am loved by a dear man who cherishes me whether I can have babies or not, and I have good friends who check on me regularly and make sure I never feel alone.
Those are the things that keep me going and help me find joy again.
The last few days I haven’t been up to blogging, but today I want to chronicle some of the beautiful things in my life that make me smile in the midst of doctor visits and pill swallowing and a body that’s having a rather rough time of it.
This morning I walked out to my garden for the first time in a while and, wonder of wonders, it was not only growing but thriving! (Thank you unexpected rainfall that rescues neglected gardens) I found baby beets, some lovely white radishes, and even pulled one tiny purple carrot just so I could taste that amazing fresh-carrot-flavor. 🙂
We found some treasures at the market this week – bunches of gorgeous kale, lovely new potatoes, and these beautiful white nectarines that remind me of my years spent in California.
And last but not least, luscious, silky, juicy mangoes.
Much to my delight, it is Mango Season in Australia again. The very best time of the year. 🙂
I know a lot of you are going through hard times right now too. I wish I could hug you tight so we could both feel better. Hugs are lovely things like that. 🙂
Is there anything putting a smile on your face today? I’d love to hear about it. 🙂
XO
by Krista | Nov 5, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
It’s not every day a girl gets invited to lunch by an Italian Count whose noble ancestors have been rattling around Italy since the 1300’s.
It had definitely never happened to this girl until one sunny day in the Lombardy region of Italy when I was included on an excursion to tour a rice farm in the Lomellina Valley with my friends Margo and Kathy.
We were welcomed warmly by the distinguished and gentlemanly Count Edoardo Visconti di Modrone and taken on a grand tour of his restaurant, Ristorante Corte Visconti, his sprawling rice farm which provides special rice for risotto, a community bar, and – my favorite – his family hunting lodge.
One day soon I will share with you the exquisite meal of local Italian specialties we ate that warm Autumn afternoon, but today I want to linger in a room that utterly stole my heart: the hunting lodge library.
Was there ever a more perfect spot for reading than this inviting couch?
We got to linger in this beautiful room twice. Once in the morning where we visited with the Count over glasses of Padron Bonarda Oltreopò Doc and a platter of thinly sliced charcuterie, and again later in the afternoon when we all retired to the library for a siesta where we got to rest on that lovely old couch.
How I love this room with its cracked leather chairs, marvelous old trunks and ancient paintings black with age.
One day, if I am ever old and rich and unencumbered by bills and emergencies, I will build a library just like this and happily live out my days in it.
How wonderful cold winter days would be spent by a roaring blaze in this marble fireplace, our dog sleeping peacefully on the hearth, a hot toddy steaming on the coffee table.
Yes, I would like that very much indeed.
I love the wooden shelves lined with very old books, their titles etched on the spine in gold leaf. Even untidy stacks of books on the writing table look marvelous next to opulent candlesticks. I like the hunting rifles lined up just so, and the chunks of firewood piled in a sturdy basket.
I’m especially fond of the changing light in this room, clean and bright in the morning, hazy and golden in late afternoon.
Some libraries in old European homes can be impressive but cold. Not this one.
It welcomes in every way, from furniture designed for maximum ease and comfort to windows flung open to allow the warm Autumn breezes to flow freely. There are even stacks of paper and inkwells at hand should inspiration strike.
It is a most splendid library.
I’m on week six (or is it eight?) of a cold/flu combo that just won’t let go. As I sit here today with a pounding head, stopped up ears, and sore throat, it is pure comfort to return, if only in my imagination, to such a happy place.
As much as I’d love to, I can’t flit away to Italy or build my own Italian hunting lodge library, but I can add bits of Italy to my little Aussie farmhouse: a stack of beloved old books on my desk, a glass of red wine with a good read at night, and a fanciful lamp tucked in a dark corner that makes me smile whenever I see it.
If you could design the perfect room for yourself, what three things would you love most for it to contain?
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