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native

[rewind]


Florence and I, we have a country retreat. Mica one of them mill white robe, with mountains on the horizon, and the woods laughing, and always ripe grain, and the breeze that caresses blond hair of baby pictures. And even as the sensuous countryside of my childhood Venetian, with hills that bends naughty, tickled by leakage of cypress and hermits villages of stone and lichen.

No. Ours is a rustic countryside and almost naked. With a stable, a barn, some pale green and mulberry trees, and poplars, and remnants of bushes where the frost fragile mimics the lost snow. It fogs up glasses atone crowding still a little 'foggy.
There, there nestled a few days. Around the old hot stove. On an old leather chair ruled out by the drawing room of the city.

I especially like to open the closet, and choose among corduroy pants no longer good for the school, the more comfortable and the color of autumn old. And a checkered flannel shirt. And that sweater too large and with small hole on the shoulder, but warm and assuring.

I read and listen to the silence of some voices down in the kitchen. While peering suspiciously stragatto I curled up in the basket too tight.

Then you stretch a bit ', you shoot shit with his children and lazy strolls to the table set for supper. Ravioli and lasagna with Mantovani, and roast capon, onions and mustard Cremona. And the wine opened three hours just sighs.

It's all here. But that's all.


(Merry Christmas and a good life)

AMEN - Mario Agati - Wilde Web Chapinero -

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snow, tea and stories

I close the controversy on the boys cold and without attributes (see previous post) with riassuntino and a final gloss


Saturday, because a sprinkling of snow, the ten fifteenths you are forgetful of my fifth home under the duvet. Instead, the five fifteenths stoically that have come to school before they have refused written to exercise (training with a view to the examination) and then, defiantly, have signed an exit permit prior to the second hour because they did not feel right to stay in school to work while they were in the cottage Compagnucci to fuck.
At that point, I am outraged and I have entrusted a sarcastic facebook postman (previous post).
The post has provoked a lively debate which was attended by Silvia, the pack leader of four revolutionary (actually the fifth, L., if they have stayed at school to revise ...) whereas, in having just arrived home, he has now taken the trouble to comment on my note. His venomous comment closes thus:


... but I'm at peace with myself and if I'm interested in sitting comfortably on the couch, I drink a cup of tea and look out the window at the snow while she is probably in school sclera ...


And this prophecy I had no answer that:


... oh no, dear Silvietta: after you have exercised your right to adult (poor Kant!) and you they're back in your warm home, you say you were at peace with yourself and that bevevi tea watching the idyllic landscape covered with snow, while I - do you think - I was at school in the sclera. And here you are wrong right: there when you're gone, I - of course - I found two wonderful hours holes. What I have certainly spent sclera. But watching the spectacle from the window of the city covered with snow, having a chat with nice fellow relax and drink a delicious tea from the bar opposite. As you see, then, fate has given us one morning for a common destiny. You drink your tea at home, I drink my tea at your school. And, you know? The funny thing is that we have to thank both your paying your tea and, with the taxes they pay me well. Whether you face lesson. Whether you're happy to fuck me, to converse and enjoy a delicious tea.


Morale ...

AMEN - Mario Agati - Wilde Web Chapinero -

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balls no balls!

also in Modena and surroundings has dropped a bit 'of snow.

arrival at school and the fifth class is almost deserted. 4 students. the others remained in bed. even those who live in some spit away. at nine, the four survivors - finding undemocratic stay in school while others are in the warm under the duvet and under the wings of parents become complacent cowards - they sign the permit - are of age! - And they leave. I suggested to them that we could use those hours to do a training text in view of the state examinations ... no! too much work! and too much injustice against annelids left the nest.

and think that only a few days ago these bold young men have occupied the high school. have faced days and nights of suffering fearless. staked. demonstrated. have thundered against a school that does not prepare them. who do not train them to face life.

but the plain truth is only one: to deal with life, it takes balls. also to get a little 'cold to get to school. also to be a couple of hours with a prof. Italian for practice exams. also look in the mirror soul without feeling a bit 'out of boredom.

but it's too easy to pick up here and there yet another alibi to his fledgling foolishness.

good life guys. I do not envy you!

AMEN - Mario Agati - Wilde Web Chapinero -