The bells the bells

Despite continuing sunny days, temperatures in the low 20s and no need to light the stove in the evenings, it is late October and we know what happens then.  I heard a bell ringing on the mountain behind us a few days ago, I wasn’t sure what it was and hoped it was one of the hunting dogs gone astray.  Today the sound is closer and I can confirm it’s the cows.  They live high in the mountain during the summer, when we went to the mass they were at the very top, but as the year progresses they make their way down to our level seemingly in order to drive me crazy.  I hate the sound the bells make, it’s a miserable loud clank clank, I hate them being outside out bedroom chiming through the night and most of all I hate the fact they confirm that winter is coming.
Lets not dwell on that, we are still having fun.  We’ve had friends from Yorkshire to stay for a few days, good company, nice trips out and lots of chat.  We have yet to pick the olives, not so many this year and we may need to find someone to chum up with as we won’t have enough for a mill run.  Our village frantoio has closed down, such a pity as it was fast, efficient and accommodating when we didn’t have a large crop.  They said people prefer to buy their oil cheaply in the supermarket.  That’s ridiculous, if it’s cheap it’s no good and what can beat your own pure fresh oil or the delicious smell from the mill while the olives are being processed.  Now we have to travel to find a mill, we used to have two in the village both now gone.
Mr FF is still building walls in the orchard.  I am gardening as always but now in preparation for leaving.  We still have tomatoes, I’ve overdosed in figs.  It’s all as it should be even if the bovine campanology doesn’t suit me.