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

Monday 14 January 2008

Wildlife sighting No. 1

Five degrees at 9:30am. Rainy, overcast and humid.

Cannobio seems to be wallowing damply in post-celebration self-pity. The Mussolini Calendar 2008 (see November 2007, Calendar Boy) and its mate the Storia del Duce Calendar 2008 are lying limp, dog-eared and neglected in a wire bin outside the newsagents. The girlie calendars are nowhere to be seen, perhaps they've been taken inside for fear of making people feel colder.

Over the weekend, Franco has dug out the old drainage channels all along the mulattiera - probably using a zappa (often translated as 'hoe' but really more like the ancient adze). Without Franco it's possible that the path would have washed out. Thanks, Franco. Where would we be without you...?

On the way back from the first asilo run of the day, we caught sight of a large mole skittering along one of the ditches Franco cleared and ducking down a culvert. Pink hands, pink nose, lush brown fur. Probably the same mole that's been devastating the garden over the past year. But a treat to see him nonetheless.

Did you know that a group of moles (God help the garden) is called a 'labour'? And in early English a mole was called, wonderfully, a 'moldywarp'.

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Monday 14 January 2008

Wildlife sighting No. 1

Five degrees at 9:30am. Rainy, overcast and humid.

Cannobio seems to be wallowing damply in post-celebration self-pity. The Mussolini Calendar 2008 (see November 2007, Calendar Boy) and its mate the Storia del Duce Calendar 2008 are lying limp, dog-eared and neglected in a wire bin outside the newsagents. The girlie calendars are nowhere to be seen, perhaps they've been taken inside for fear of making people feel colder.

Over the weekend, Franco has dug out the old drainage channels all along the mulattiera - probably using a zappa (often translated as 'hoe' but really more like the ancient adze). Without Franco it's possible that the path would have washed out. Thanks, Franco. Where would we be without you...?

On the way back from the first asilo run of the day, we caught sight of a large mole skittering along one of the ditches Franco cleared and ducking down a culvert. Pink hands, pink nose, lush brown fur. Probably the same mole that's been devastating the garden over the past year. But a treat to see him nonetheless.

Did you know that a group of moles (God help the garden) is called a 'labour'? And in early English a mole was called, wonderfully, a 'moldywarp'.

No comments: