In my last post I mentioned a place in the Parco Nazionale d'Abruzzo called Pescasseroli. Since this place is so dear to me I thought it would be worth dropping a few lines.
My family bought a house there when me and my brother were kids. It was the typical house that you'd expect to find in the mountains: wooden interiors, a little but effective fireplace, bunk beds and a garden big enough for pony riding the times we were able to convince our father to bring them in from the manege just across the road.
A few years later we moved to a bigger and more comfortable house and though we have grown we still try to spend with our family at least a week during summer holidays. It's our little ritual and, for the past two years, Stefano has become part of it too.
So, as soon as the thermometer read 40°C and the city slowly started to empty, we packed our bags and left for the mountains.
It's been all about walking, cycling and frequent stops at a local animal farm - hence the post title, inspired by this song - where we didn't miss the chance to pursuit our favourite amusement : feeding. Every day we raid the fridge to meet every possible taste: grass for the sheeps, carrots for the donkey and the reindeer -yes, a reindeer, could you believe that? - and a little bit of everything for the pigs. But the most peculiar and stubborn of them all were surely the goats. In Italy we say "curious as a goat" and now I know what that really means!
On the road back home we even encountered a fox and since we're never unprepared we fed her dog food that she seemed to appreciate.
Days spent so peacefully, enjoying the simple things in life make the comeback to the daily routine busy schedules very hard. This put me in a kinda gloomy mood 'cause it reminded me how I long to be anywhere else but here, stuck in this dull and lifeless place.
Was your return to normal as dreadful as mine?