I spent this past ten days alone in the country enjoying the colours of early December: the fading orange and red taking away autumn and changing into the wintery greyish and bluish; the dark arriving early carrying sleepiness and a desire for rest in front of the fireplace making the only effort of adding some logs; the preparation for Christmas which is arriving but not too fast, without that frenetic energy we feel in the city…
While I was surrounded by this atmosphere I receive a message from my brother who is in New York and was asking me if I would need something for him to get me on his way back. Instinctively I replied that I was so fine I felt all I needed I had it just here… Sure, if I were in New York even for just a moment I would start desiring this and that, I added!
I felt smiling inside thinking about all the times in which some newyorker friend would come visit and would ask me the same question. And I would reply something like: “You know me, Bring me some of those cute erasers you can put at the top of a pencil or a box of ziplock bags, or who knows what other strange object i couldn’t easily find in Italy, forget about in Umbria. Nothing so vital or even necessary though!!
This is the second winter I spend decided between Umbria and Rome. Our kids are at this point well adjusted to their new life in the Capital (with their school life and their social life as well) and me and Breon are becoming commuters between our holiday farm and the city. So it is coming back to the country after some city time that I realise more and more how so many things are superfluous. Last long weekend we had a really nice group of guests and as usual there was a lot to share and exchange. Antonella has two dogs accustom to the roman weather who were feeling cold in our environment. So what she did is to cut her own sweater and to create two nice doggy dresses, one from a sleeves and one from the body part. I was very impressed by her creation. And I thought about how we become inventive and creative when we don’t have everything under the sun available to us or to our wallet.
Keeping my train of thoughts, I am thinking now about my first winter spent on this hill that hosts our holiday farm, when this project was just a dream. We had two suitcases, two very young children, a big house but kind of bear, one telephone line, no internet, no television for the first six months. It seems strange to look back at that time today, but I have to say some of my best memories are tight with those months. One for all: The first snow storm arrived and I went out with the children, some garbage bags and tried to slide from a steep road in the bosco using the bags as sleds. I had Lucia, one year old, on my lap and Simon, four years old, beside me. When I think about that moment it is like I am assuming a pill of happiness.
