The stage is set here for a glorious Italian summer, all that’s missing is the weather. The days are warm enough but we still get regular afternoon showers and some days thunderstorms, our neighbours tv aerial was taken out last week by lightning.
The terrace pots are floriferous, geraniums, begonias, plumbago full of bloom with my mini sunflowers standing to attention. My rather English herbaceous border is full to bursting with gladioli, lupins, asters, vinca, morning glory, hydrangea and more exotic datura and amaryllis. Several pots of basil sick of waiting for the tomatoes are thinking of going to seed.
The first cherry tomatoes are turning, courgettes, peas and cucumbers almost ready. I can’t wait for the days when have more tomatoes than we can face, eat our aubergines for lunch and dinner and still have veg to give away. When we sit out till late looking at the lights in the valley and sleep on top of the thin cotton sheet that becomes the cover for our bed. I have stocked up on spirals to burn when the mosquito arrive in force and enough candles and lantens to create magical evenings.
For now the evenings are cool, we’ve hardly seen the fireflies, barely eaten dinner outside and have no problem keeping the house cool.
So what are you waiting for summer, get yourself here pronto. Even if the new terrace isn’t ready for the temporary pool it soon will be, the plate vibrator is lined up for the weekend.
I still can’t post comments, the problem seems to be on sites that like me use blogger.com. So annoying but know that I am following you even if my thoughts have to stay in my head.
Born in and now returned to Yorkshire from Scotland, spending summers in Italy. I knit socks but prefer to wear flip flops
Wednesday, 27 June 2018
Thursday, 21 June 2018
Give and take
So with thousands of people crossing the Med in dangerous boats to land on her shores Italy has now refused asylum to the 600 plus migrants who had to be rescued recently. Whilst we can all condemn the new government for this perhaps you need to know a little more about the impact and the cost of all these people who cast off in dangerous craft no doubt having handed over all their money to the traffickers.
Firstly you cannot go into an Italian supermarket without being accosted by migrants at the trolley park for money, I refuse to hand over any. When you come out with your shopping you are asked again for money and often followed back to your car. One persistent migrant once watched me unload my groceries into the car and had the cheek to say you have money for ice cream but you won’t give me anything. I was furious and explained to him that I had worked for 42 years to earn my money not stood with my hand out. The larger the supermarket the more migrants and the more intimidation, sometimes I dread taking my trolley back to be harassed for the Euro deposit. These people all have fancy mobile phones, apparently they need them to keep in touch with their family even though they need my money to buy water.
Once a guy asked Mr FF for a few euro, Mr FF suggested that rather than just hang around the guy spend his time picking up litter in the car park while we shopped and we would pay him for doing this. When we came out the man had done nothing and still wanted money.
Even shopping at Ikea in Rome we were harassed by someone wanting to help us unload our shopping, he said he worked there, maybe in his mind he did but not for Ikea and not in any official tax paying way.
Our little village with 700 inhabitants took in, housed and fed, about 30 people. Not all migrants but all adult men with problems, homelessness, abuse, addiction. They used to congregate in the palazzo near the church waiting for their next meal provided by the ladies of the church. Few of them spoke when greeted, none of them did anything like help keep the village clean and tidy, and believe me litter is a huge problem throughout Lazio. Now the church is concentrating on its own community, the number of priests we have has reduced and there is less help for outsiders.
Then there are the black prostitutes who stand on the country roads waiting for business and wearing very little. I have no doubt they are pimped, controlled and probably on drugs, I feel very sad for them and worry for their safety. Or I would if they didn’t appear to relish what they are doing, even pulling down their pants and shaking their bare bottoms to passing traffic. Did they leave their country in search of a better life to end up on the streets, do the supermarket men think they have a better life begging. I have no idea of the horrors they left behind, no idea what they endured to get to Italy but I do know they need to start making this better life happen for themselves and giving something back would be a good start.
Posted by Jennyff at 06:35 1 comment:
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