Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007-2013. Please give credit where credit is due.

Friday, 24 July 2009

Sensing Carmine

Hot and sunny. Summer holidays in full swing, although for some reason Mama this afternoon finds herself chained to her desk and working - now how the hell did that happen?!

In my eyes, shady greens, greys and browns. Spots of red, pink and white. Luminous sky. Muted fresco colours.

In my nose, chiesa dust, wax for the pews, decades-old laundry smells from the vestments drawer, locked there by the hands of predecessor women who've now left us. Then mossy dankness by the old river-fed wash-tub where we go to get cool.

In my ears, the streams babbling, a boat way on down across the lake, cats squabbling, tourists gossiping, children calling, cockerel crowing.

In my mouth, taste of homegrown tomatoes and basil. Fresh white bread, pickled garden cucumbers, grana padano and sweet gorgonzola.

Under my fingers, grey stone warm outdoors cool indoors, perfect white linen and handmade church lace, sleek cat-fur, soft-smooth child skin. And the striated wood of my old desk.

Nice to be home.

9 comments:

Joy said...

You write so beatifully. I wish I were there to see it all and man that food sounds good.

Joy

Will S said...

You are a poet and you do not know-it!

Warren Baldwin said...

Picturesque language.

lakeviewer said...

vERY EVOCATIVE,INDEED.

KatyB said...

I could just drink in all those beautiful, gentle sensations. Lovely!

Romancing Italy said...

Extemely sensual and an absolute treat. I love the way you write and what you write.

...Good thing you were chained to your desk working.... :-)

ladyfi said...

I am bathing in the loveliness of this post!

Now - who is chaining you to that old desk? Need a chainsaw? ;-)

Vanessa said...

I wish I loved a place the way you love Carmine

BPOTW said...

That's an awesome post! So vivid and colorful!

Friday, 24 July 2009

Sensing Carmine

Hot and sunny. Summer holidays in full swing, although for some reason Mama this afternoon finds herself chained to her desk and working - now how the hell did that happen?!

In my eyes, shady greens, greys and browns. Spots of red, pink and white. Luminous sky. Muted fresco colours.

In my nose, chiesa dust, wax for the pews, decades-old laundry smells from the vestments drawer, locked there by the hands of predecessor women who've now left us. Then mossy dankness by the old river-fed wash-tub where we go to get cool.

In my ears, the streams babbling, a boat way on down across the lake, cats squabbling, tourists gossiping, children calling, cockerel crowing.

In my mouth, taste of homegrown tomatoes and basil. Fresh white bread, pickled garden cucumbers, grana padano and sweet gorgonzola.

Under my fingers, grey stone warm outdoors cool indoors, perfect white linen and handmade church lace, sleek cat-fur, soft-smooth child skin. And the striated wood of my old desk.

Nice to be home.

9 comments:

Joy said...

You write so beatifully. I wish I were there to see it all and man that food sounds good.

Joy

Will S said...

You are a poet and you do not know-it!

Warren Baldwin said...

Picturesque language.

lakeviewer said...

vERY EVOCATIVE,INDEED.

KatyB said...

I could just drink in all those beautiful, gentle sensations. Lovely!

Romancing Italy said...

Extemely sensual and an absolute treat. I love the way you write and what you write.

...Good thing you were chained to your desk working.... :-)

ladyfi said...

I am bathing in the loveliness of this post!

Now - who is chaining you to that old desk? Need a chainsaw? ;-)

Vanessa said...

I wish I loved a place the way you love Carmine

BPOTW said...

That's an awesome post! So vivid and colorful!