Cat in castigo

Thirty-two degrees at 9am (in the sheltered spot on the bathroom windowsill), but with a wind that's whipping up the white horses on the lake. Feels fresher following yesterday afternoon's storm, which has left me with a rather large amount of oleander- and tomato-tying to do.

The first summer vacationers have arrived from north of the Alps. And today is AJ's first Monday of the summer holidays, which stretch ten weeks into the heat-haze distance (God help Mama).

Upstairs, one of the spare rooms has become Cell-Block C, home to a rather disgruntled cat. Here's a picture of him taken a few months ago during a particularly energetic bout of mousing. He's almost the oldest cat in Carmine and considers himself lord of all he surveys. He's known to be fairly brutal with his subject cats, and now he's in trouble. On Saturday night he frightened our neighbour's new, all-white, female import and she disappeared (to return on Sunday morning, thankfully unharmed by woodland predators). Our neighbour was understandably fairly angry and put out a fatwa on our cat, so he's upstairs in castigo, but also for his own safety.

We've promised to have him done in the hope that without the essential equipment he'll be less aggressive, so tomorrow he and I will be plunging down the hill to the vet. I hope he won't be too angry with me when we get back.

Chick-rearing, the end of the line

After last night's storm, the 9am temperature has dropped to 28 degrees, which is fresh by comparison.

The first of the male chickens from February's brood is cooling its - erm - drumsticks in the fridge, awaiting the big deep freeze.

Thirty degrees in Cannobio at 9am. Thirty-four at 1pm. On the sultry side all day, resulting in this year's first thunder storm.

Twelve kilos of child on the back and another six kilos of shopping at the ends of the arms was this morning's Really Stupid Idea. Next time I'll leave the kid at the shop and just bring the cat food and the juice.

Thirty-two degrees at 9am in Cannobio. Sunny goes without saying.

Time to blow up the blessed paddling pool.

Stop press : property for sale in Carmine Superiore

It seems that a "casetta in sasso con vista lago" in Carmine Superiore has come onto the market. Form an orderly line, please!

The straw in strawberries

Twenty-eight degrees at 8am. Sunny. The blessing of Carmine is the breeze that blows almost continually, leaving us merely hot when we would otherwise be overheated.

The cherry tree that M. planted in 2003 is fruiting beautifully. And B. was today ecstatic to find her walk up the hill (yes, now I only have to carry her one-third of the way) is paved with wild strawberries. A great part of her vocabulary is devoted to hunting strawberries, including, "Where are they? There! Strawberry! B.!....Oh dear, all gone." Her two-year-old mind is so caught up with fruiting strawberries that last night the First Little Pig made a house of them (rather than straw)...Now wouldn't that be nice!

Twenty-eight degrees at 9am. Sunny. In Milan at 10am, M. clocked 32 degrees.

Counting down to the last day of kindergarten on Friday.

Sliding into summer

Sultry and overcast.

After about a month of almost continual rain, we in Carmine are welcoming summer.


All the windows are open (yes, even at night), and every corner of the house is permeated with the scent of jasmine. The geraniums are flowering on windowsills everywhere you look and the lavender has taken over the herb garden and is going for world domination.

Yesterday, we cooled down for the first time this summer with a dunk in the old village fontana, fed with freezing mountain water. And a mother deer and her youngster paid a visit to Palazzo Pollo.

Everyone in Cannobio was in sunny Saturday morning mood. The Vice-Sindaco in crisp white linen was holding court outside the Caffe' Centro in Guardian Angel Square, and the post office was humming with the unmistakeable perfumes of shower gel and sunscreen.

Today, the gentle schuck of Ezio's sickle as he tackles the grass in his meadow in his own time-honoured way, is drowned by the roar of multiple strimmers doing the job in a fraction of the time.

Motherhood means...No. 5

Sunny and warm.

As the holidays edge closer, motherhood means not saying, "Please share your ice-cream with your sister," for fear of summoning up the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse...

Oh what a night

Twenty-eight degrees at about 4pm, when I finally arrived in downtown Cannobio in search of antibiotics after a night of bronchospasm, a visit to the Guardia Medica and a surprise strepp throat (with a prospect of joining the growing ranks of kindergarten scarlatina notifiees). Sunny.

Today was also a helicopter day.

Homecoming reccie

Twenty-one degrees at 9am. Sunny, but the weather can't fool me -- it's been raining in Carmine virtually non-stop since our departure. The clues? Moss and algae everywhere, energetically-flowing streams, lots of brown jasmine flowers and a garden like a jungle, with weeds taller than the trees.

The famous mouser (cat 12 : mice nil) dives into my arms every available moment since our return. I think we were missed.

A corner of Carmine

A corner of Carmine

Another view of Carmine

Another view of Carmine Superiore

Baita wall

Baita wall, Carmine Superiore

By the church

By the church, Carmine Superiore

Piode rooftops

Rooftops through the leaves, Carmine Superiore

Cosmos

Cosmos on the kitchen window sill

Ristoro di San Gottardo

Ristoro di San Gottardo, Carmine Superiore

Baita door

Baita Soree door, Carmine Superiore

Lago Maggiore ferry

Lago Maggiore ferry, Cannobio, New Year's Day 2008

Winter rays

Carmine Superiore, winter 2008

Sign

Strada Romana, 20 minuti; Cannero sentiero alto, 30 minuti

Signpost

Signpost, Carmine Superiore

Madonna & child

Madonna and child, interior south wall, Chiesa di San Gottardo, Carmine Superiore

Crocuses

Crocuses in Franco's orchard, Carmine Superiore, spring 2008

Cascade

Cascade by Casa al Ponte, Carmine Superiore

Azalea

Emma's azalea in the rain