I can’t believe its only 12 days left till I’m told to remain seated with my seat belt fastened until the captain turns off the seat belt sign. 12 days till cups of ginger ale, no ice. 12 days until that feeling of sudden lightness in my chest as we leave the ground, that feeling that doesn’t go away no matter how many times I fly. 12 days. That’s it.
Its strange for me this summer, because all previous summers the end of summer meant back to school, textbooks papers and exams. Away from the ranch, back to the city. Away from my family. Away from swimming in the creek, basking in the summer sun, eating fruit fresh from the garden, away from cocktails in the evening, and hanging around the table with friends. Back to the fog.
Okay okay, it wasn’t as bad as that, but it certainly felt like that when leaving at the end of the summer. Its nice when I feel the summer deepening into a richer golden this time, I don’t have to feel dread, I have something to look forward to. But its also nice to be travelling somewhere without the desperate feeling of getting away from where I am. It’s a pleasant feeling, where I am, at 12 days. I’m in the right place.
Lately I’ve been planning my itinerary through Italy. At the end of September, we’ll be taking the ferry from Croatia to Italy, and from there we will travel by train to various places, and eventually up through Switzerland to France, and finally returning back to Belgium. However, the question is, how long do we want to spend in Italy, and where do we want to go? I’m for spending at least 4 days in Tuscany, and I’d love to stay somewhere in Cinque Terre—looks fabulous. I hear the seafood’s fucking great too.
{Riomaggiore in Cinque Terre}
When not on the computer, I’ve been helping out in the yard, doing a little reconstructing. We also took a bike ride to the mouth of the river nearby. It was a lovely golden bike ride along the base of the hill, woods and houses on one side, sloping square fields of various colors on the other, ending in the ocean in the distance. We raced and meandered until we arrived at the mouth, which is a breathtaking site in its own right. The river comes straight at you on the left, curving right at your feet to join the ocean which is on your right. A thin dune of sand, grasses and sea lions separates the two. When looking at it all in front of you, you have the calm blue on the left, contrasted by the breaking waves on the left. It’s a great place to watch the sunset.
On the way back, we stopped at a little store and got ice cream and popsicles. I didn’t get one myself, and thus was made to work for my tastes, riding alongside at the right speed to put my mouth around the pina colada popsicle and get a bite—that is if he didn’t yank it away to tease me. It’s a good exercise in multi tasking, I’ll say that.
Back at the house, I brined the chickens for tomorrows lunch when we go fishing. Brining chickens is a sure way to make perfect chickens. We’ve found that brining them for an hour in 1 gallon of water to 1 cup of salt is just right. Then I rubbed a little butter and pepper on them and inside of them and popped them in the oven. I suppose I should go flip them now, the smell of roasting chicken is calling to me…
