Don't Look Back

The cards have been cleared from the mantelpiece.

The Christmas tree has been packed away

& stored back in the loft for another 11 months or so.

We have eaten, drunk & been merry
(well I have - hubby doesn't drink).

And that's another year consigned to history.

Once again, as last year, I won't look back,
but continue to look forward
to each brand new day on Leila's Mountain
and the promise it brings.

Buon Anno, tutti!

Mangia Bene Il 1° Gennaio

We were invited to the Russo's 

for New Year's Day lunch.

Maria kept repeating the saying

'Mangia bene il primo gennaio e

si mangia bene tutto l'anno' - 

'Eat well on the 1st January 

& you will eat well all year'.

And we did...... 

45 Litres of 'Cilento Gold'

It's that time of year again, when the air hangs heavy

with the scent of olives & voices can be heard

all over the hillsides as the harvest gets 

under way.

I have tromped around our olive grove 

in my flowery Wellibobs, separating

olives from foliage in readiness 

for sacking up.

This year we had help from

our adoptive family, the Russos -

Angelo & his mum, Maria,
came up & put the new nets out with hubby
whilst I was back in the UK for half term week & then they came with sister Raffaela
to start the harvest last week;
Angelo has invested in a battery-driven
harvester, which whacks the olives out
of the trees in a fraction of the time
it takes to do the job manually (yes, I know
'whacks' isn't the technical term, but
the guys do technical, I'm just a girl &
as far as I can see, it whacks them).

By Friday lunchtime we had 5 sacks filled &
ready to take to the oleificio in the afternoon,
which is the minimum number they'll accept
to do an individual pressing.
They weighed in at 'due quintale' exactly
(two hundredweight to you & me);
after 30 minutes wait, we were finally allowed to offload them into the hopper ready for washing prior to pressing.

And, a couple of hours later, we finally had the satisfaction of seeing 45 litres of our very own
'Cilento Gold' running out of the pipe

Goodbye September, Hello October

September has come and gone, and with it

have gone the hot days, sometimes peaking at 37 degrees -

unseasonably hot.

The month brought us some spectacular storms,

and afforded me a couple of

lightning shots I was pleased with, of which 

this was the best.....

And this morning, after waiting over an hour for the 

first dawn of October to break,  

I was rewarded with this sight above Leila's Mountain

Whilst in the opposite direction, the rumble of distant thunder
could be heard beyond Monte Licosa

and, although the storm produced no lightning, 

it did produce a partial rainbow

I wonder what the rest of the month will bring?

Packing Up Our Old Life

As the Pickfords lorry turned the corner, 

my first thought was,

'There's no way our house is going to fit in that'

(whether that is grammatically correct or not,

I don't know, but that was my exact thought). 

I'd been up since silly o'clock, thoughts of the

enormity of what we were about to do

having raced through my mind for most of the night.

And now the moment was here - the one where

you pack up your home & memories in a

removal lorry, not knowing when you're going 

to see them again.

It rained most of the day - Sod's Law that

it was the only day that week to rain - this did

not enhance the removal crew's mood.

And yes, I was right, the contents of our

4 bed detached did not want to fit into

the lorry. But after several phone calls to

the office & some cursing of Terry, the estimator,

plus more than one attempt at rearranging 

everything, by the end of the afternoon,  

the lorry set off for the storage depot and we were left watching our 12 month old granddaughter

toddling circuits through the hall, dining room

& lounge, much as our daughter used to 

in our previous house when she was that age.

Her giggles are the most precious memory
from that day - there are no photos,
but the picture is

etched in my memory forever.

Missed it!

Social media was full of talk about the impending Supermoon
& lunar eclipse,

set to produce a spectacular Blood Moon.

Although the atmosphere has been a bit hazy of late,
meaning clarity on my moon shots was somewhat lacking,  

yesterday morning seemed much clearer 

and those Italian blue skies held the promise 

of some better captures overnight.

But, as we drove back home after lunch,

hubby commented on the clouds that

now floated above Leila's Mountain. 

And I knew they weren't going to 

disappear anywhere fast.

So I had to settle for some shots of

an over bright moon between the few breaks

 in the cloud, of which this one - taken at 23:05:56 -

is my favourite......

    I'm hoping for clearer skies in 2033

That'll Be A €60 Fine, Then

We were sitting outside Meeting Bar in Acciaroli

this morning, enjoying a pre-lunch drink.

The sun was shining in an almost cloudless sky

and there were lots of comings & goings

of various locals and holidaymakers alike,

 pulling up in cars &

offloading passengers to shoot in to

pick up dolce for post-lunch. 

At the particular moment that the Polizia Locale car

pulled up outside the church,

there were a couple of cars & a Vespa 

or two parked up.

As both female officers got out of the vehicle,

one of them gave 3 sharp trills on her whistle;

this warning to illegally parked motorists that 

the Polizia are about and ready  to start handing out

parking tickets always makes us chuckle - 

no way would you get such a warning in the UK.

(I should point out that, around here,

motorists MUST park in a marked 

parking space, otherwise they're parked illegally).

There was an ice cream coloured VW Beetle with its

roof down parked a few metres along from the bar. The officer blew her whistle again as she walked towards it; the owners of the other cars all scooted out & drove off.  

Another 3 whistle blasts, and that was it - final warning had been given - pen was put to paper.

Too late, the owner & his two passengers 

came back to the car, to find a 

Penalty Notice attached to the windscreen. 

He argued half heartedly, but he knew it 

was too late - once the ticket is written, 

it can't be cancelled.

And so, his Sunday morning bar bill suddenly jumped by a further €60.