A QUIET ROUND IN THE GARDEN
Etta James sings for me tonight. "Aaaaat laaaast my love has come along, my lonely daaaays are over and life is liiiike a song"... I just took a quiet walk...
Etta James sings for me tonight. "Aaaaat laaaast my love has come along, my lonely daaaays are over and life is liiiike a song"... I just took a quiet walk...
Etta James sings for me tonight. "Aaaaat laaaast my love has come along, my lonely daaaays are over and life is liiiike a song"...
I just took a quiet walk in the garden. It's still light even though it's late at night. The roses have suffered from the storms. But even if the winds have scarred them badly, they smell lovely and share their secrets. So generous. It's the same with us humans, I think. Even if we are hurt, manipulated, mistreated, we still have our soul that no one can take away from us.
Astrid and Sven sometimes play wild games, sometimes they fall asleep in the middle of the game. My beloved kittens that you named for me. Life without my dogs every other week is – empty. Astrid and Sven light up and make me laugh out loud.
One early Friday morning two weeks ago, I looked dreamily out at the square from my room in the old town of Florence. It was time to fly back to Sweden. It was Midsummer Eve. Down in the square, two nuns walked side by side. Dressed in white with handbags firmly in hand. They strolled across the piazza in the already warm morning. I could see how they enjoyed themselves there on their walk towards a definite goal. Probably the same walk every day. Quietly chatting with each other. After a while two more came. Side by side. And then two more. You learn to live in that heat. You are up early. The night before it was 37 degrees at nine o'clock in the evening. Streets, house facades, furniture, radiated heat as if walking around inside a convection oven. My poor menopausal system backfired. I barely slept that night. The fever attacks succeeded each other. Everything breathed a fever. The mattress, the pillows, the sheets. You know it's not sick fever, just the body's dramatic disassembly. With torn ribs, it was also difficult to move around in bed. I understood that night that I will learn from the Italians. They are not out ironing along the facades in the heat. They rest in the middle of the day. They sit in air-conditioned dining rooms or in their cool houses with small windows. It's only us starving Scandinavians who want to be outside 24/7 in the summer, as well as to store the heat for the winter. But, I have to think again now that I'm going to live more in Italy.
The washing machine spins. Soon all the sheets and towels will be washed for the next family that rents the white villa on Reunion farm. The white house that was my home is fully booked this summer. Everyone loves living there. The house with the magnificent terrace with the million dollar view. I'll be moving back soon. I long for my Reunion farm. Now that Abbe and Lisa also live on the farm most of the week, the family is together and I can feel calm there. Soon soon. Some obstacle remains. But as a friend told me; Everything will be fine. Give everything time. Give grief time. Give joy time. Give yourself time.
This beautiful evening is a typical evening in the life of an entrepreneur during peak season. I started the day early helping the web team pack Sthålkeramik at our warehouse in Borrby. Then I filled a lot of boxes with news and sent to the web warehouse. And then it was time to go to the farm and continue the day. In the dishes, making sandwiches, unpacking news, watering the flowers, overseeing the cleaning of the white villa, answering a thousand emails, placing orders to Italy, approving color samples, printing bills, planning for the next trip and washing dishes again when the cafe for the tenth time today became overcrowded.
That's when you have to take to the evenings to continue with everything you didn't have time to do during the day. Wash, bake bisques (it turned out rhubarb, cardamom) and gather in general so you don't forget anything. Now it is almost half past twelve and midnight is approaching. The kittens have long since tired of pulling everything down on the floor and are frantically pouncing on me. They need to be stuffed and kissed good night. The laundry is hanging to dry from the ceiling and I just went out again and stood on the stairs. The sky was orange and light blue with tones of eternity. Over there, against eternity, a nice bed is waiting for me.
Love m.
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