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three days of shit. not want to post.

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sorry if you do not post anything today, but I need to clear my ideas. always if I can because when something like this happens to you, upsets there. at least to me, who are not quiet in person. seen from the outside may seem trivial. that suddenly ti suoni alla porta la donna della tua vita, quella per cui stai tenendo insieme le tue energie migliori. voglio dire: sembrerebbe il paradiso in terra tutto questo e invece, quando nora l'altro giorno è arrivata, è come se con la pala della ruspa mi avesse rivoltato dentro. e i vermi e l'umido, venuti in superficie, si fossero messi a dannarmi l'anima, quello che è rimasto dell'anima. che però c'è e sta di un male cane. non voglio fare qui la vittima e fanculo a chi crede che io sia uno che si piange addosso. ma è più forte di me. mi ha messo in corpo un'ansia che non la trattengo

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Occorrevano almeno quaranta minuti prima che il grasso aggrumato s’addensasse in a noisy mixture, beaten around and around against the wall of the machine. After that signal, a bolus cannonball would switch between a plate and a grooved roller, so that any residue of serous weaned. Meanwhile, the miracle was accomplished, Nora tried to explain to the old as she loved the silence of the mountains and their inhabitants. Kunter Since she came to know that a Trojan repaired after the war, preferring the food shortage, chaotic euphoria of reconstruction. That year ago, when he became aware of being in the middle of a tornado electoral propaganda and nagging bloated extravagance, he thanked anyone tied to the chariot of the two animals survived the war, charged the working tools, and went up there, in the house where his great-grandparents were born. He found it in ruins, but with courage stan, gutted, he recovered, he built, all expenses at the end, doors, tiles and settles there permanently. The fact that Nora, with the accent of distant valley, the confession of loving what he loved - solitude, peace, nature, real people, simple - he conquered it.
framed by the kitchen window, Olga, his wife, watched them patient, a small figure and bony, his shoulders wrapped in a black shawl, kind eyes, her hair ash. It was then that he noticed the farm Nora in its entirety, the small arched windows, the prospectus rectangular and symmetrical arrangement of two levels: it seemed to her sister of the facades of Fusinieri way, a relative of the child, lost a piece of industrial archeology, to which the architect had halved the light of the balconies. Then he looked serenely and Olga thought that living there for a while 'time, in peace, silence, accompanied by two old men, would not be a bad idea, not at all.

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Enrich Kunter

I the old Enrich Kunter met him first. She stood in front of the house, the pupils to look for the fat surface contained in a wooden tub, low and full of milk: blood cells span, slow, good, safe, with a wooden spoon in beech, the curved back, the cast of lively irises. Nora found that the normal man angry, rather than being hard crust and soft yellow that grew as the first. It remained unruffled even when ottenutala full and compact, nimble he disappeared in the store. He reappeared shortly after, with two loaves of butter between your fingers:
"Here." He said without much enthusiasm.
"Very nice, but really ... I am here for that announcement ... What she has left the country. "
And so it was: that Henry Kunter had spread the rumor in the valley, broadcaster, putting even a few small notice board of the club and the farmers' union dopolavoristico: seeds that would sprout, prayers to be answered with passion, he expected only in response to a colossus of a man, one of those used to chop wood, to be up so early, to govern the stables and storms, and instead ...
"Miss, there is no place for her here." He said with the harsh language, before returning into the butter.
"Wait!" I alerted her instead. And he warned that he should look better, because the calluses on his hands and three years from working to clear, in the cooperative, not had them all. That put to the test, if you do not believe it.
Enrich, before accepting the challenge, he divided the female with the animals still used as a plain, quartered pesandone strengths and weaknesses: good clean face, the frame work and his desire to do; suspicious that escape from cooperative
"A Chiarano say? Uhm! Also in celebration of those. Not amused, perhaps? "
" I was there to work. Indeed, to be honest, to me all the party almost every night, annoyed, "but added, a correction, not to seem to be a bear cave, she was there willingly among those companions, provided that the party would not last in forever. Another speech was the city, the chattering el'impicciamento citizens, good to put my nose everywhere and always.
"And here, what do you think to find you, Miss?" Provokes the dairyman, without lowering his eyes.
"Here ..." Nora began, but she remembered nothing important enough, or so immediate to convince him of his good intentions. He thought for a while anyway, while Henry absently stirred the cream into the tank, breaking the veil. "I know work. - Then resumed, with new courage - and am not afraid to sacrifice. I know that you are looking for help. And that, believe me, I think poterglielo give. I know, sounds strange that a woman my age travel alone, without a man, but ... "
The farmer scratched his head briefly, shook his shoulders and inhale a little fresh air of the mountain:" To me, miss, I'll be honest, I'm interested in that when cows in the barn they call her run. And what a hand at home to my wife there must always be, that is old and needs. "
In fact, the cutting of forest, field, fix the tractor, the wagon to move, and a hundred other worse weights needed are many other arms, and Henry knew, was surprised, therefore, to have them thrown into the valley to allow the woman to settle. Why this was doing him good to let it grow in space basin. Strange as it might seem, having other urgent human machine, quite another matter, the open loft, cupboard, heart, like a relative, not German, and female to boot.
"Can I stay then?" Asked Nora have, by bed eyes.
In response, he gave her spannarola in his hand and asked it to recover from that other fat milk bath:
"Now you look good. But meanwhile, wait for me here, yes? "
He returned with wooden containers, which began to pour in the cream. "Be like me. Here you'll see how it produces the butter. "
" I know how. "Nora said, wounded pride. Enrich
was sorry for her tip on the nerve, and not to give too much to see, took refuge in the store with a basket of stuff to spin in the churn and invited Nora to do the same:
"As a child, my father taught me to make butter in a bottle. We put the salt to preserve it. It was the German method. But now there is electricity, and not by much, you know? "

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Trojan

cap. 9 (1948 - 2004)

A Trojan electricity was discovered recently, a gift of the Magi in blue overalls, who came up there with the truck ENEL, stuck in the land of their tiny metal tower. Spouses Kunter, only residents of the district, shut up and chewed the whole thing sideways, eyes to the compressors, the ferrocement, ropes pulled from pole to pole, his eyes wide and sad thing for the city, quell'arrembaggio : an invasion from below, and no profits, they thought. If anything, the fear of being hunted down and soon, deprived the district, restored to the holidaymaker for good measure: street noise, smells, faults, street rats, insects born from the old, instead beamed into rustic kitchens and paint and light bulbs everywhere . Phone, of course, and washable tile, wood scents. Fear and dell'0lga dell'Enrich, sbaraccare, that there was room at the hospice, a corner with the Arc of rent received meager compensation. Million, a few, to be spent on fees for all nurses, mashed and boiled chicken, in pajamas, robes and group tours to the lake, while throwing millions of citizens were celebrating one hundred teeth on a Trojan, a change in oxygen body, to be renewed. Kunter
I lived that a successful attempt to enlighten their nights, as one who expects the first storm grains of water, and instead, after the hustle and bustle, the rush current into the walls from room to room, the lamps , came to nothing: nothing made groped the expropriation, no private jeep to flatter; il bello, al contrario, di non dover sprecare olio per lanterne, d’aver giorno anche di notte, a piacimento, e la soddisfazione di accendere arnesi a motore, girando una chiave.
C’era comunque sempre daffare in Troiana: cagliata, fieno, vacche, legna, bucato, stirare, galline, uova, malattie delle bestie, malattie degli umani. E turisti, anche quelli, che arrivavano per piluccare burro centrifugato in casa, per il formaggio e il latte, non pretendendo alloggio o terra da semina, bensì prodotti, fatica, il lavoro del vecchio Kunter, maestro casaro.
Fu questa fretta degli uomini di pianura, questa loro battaglia per la salute, combattuta a spese dei due coniugi, a spingere questi ultimi in cerca d’una hand, aid, and with this in mind, Nora showed up.
came back to the Trojan tuttacurve of small white and Musson, astride a seasoned three-speed motor that Sandro, in full of remorse, gave her the day of farewell. By the way, went through a massive heap of stones and a century-old chestnut, the climb finally gave up his torment and a rapid and short downhill to the right brought straight to the valley.

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Chiarano

Thus began the experience of rural Nora, how clear the water of the Garda and therefore difficult, especially in having to readjust to the frequent breath of other human beings. Of course, those of saltpetre to now, had little to do with the sickly breath of the therapeutic community, but it was always of men and women who had to negotiate space, silence, order and times. Over time, then, his stubborn refusal to choose a male of the group, was never fully understood, although she had first tried to explain patiently to one, then another, and even the girls, who saw in the renunciation of the central motif of his sad smile. Among them, Sandro was to suffer more, the young team leader and one who had first offered the post to Nora. On the other hand, he had the satisfaction of teaching a trade, qualcosa che le avrebbe garantito il pane in ogni angolo di mondo. Ed in effetti, nei tre anni che Nora lavorò in quella cascina, imparò davvero un mestiere, ma comprese anche, definitivamente, che la propria indole solitaria non andava combattuta, bensì addestrata a sopportare il gioco di squadra, se necessario; senza esagerare, però.
Chiamò in causa proprio un’immagine sportiva, quando cercò di convincere Sandro e gli altri giovani che non se ne andava per colpa loro, ma che, al contrario, non s’era mai trovata così bene fra la gente. Disse che gente non era la parola esatta, perché loro li considerava dei veri amici, soltanto che aveva bisogno di una pausa, di uscire un poco dalla mischia, e che, comunque, appena avesse trovato un altro indirizzo, sarebbero stati i primi a saperlo. “Lo giuro.” garantì a Sandro, piccolo in un angolo, che ancora si domandava di quale malattia patisse i morsi quella sciagurata, per abbandonare un lavoro sicuro ed avviarsi ad un’estate sulla strada.
Nora uscì definitivamente dalla cooperativa il sedici maggio del 2004, con in tasca l’indirizzo di una contrada dispersa fra le acacie, i noccioli e le betulle del monte Ben, ad una cannonata dalla chiesa di San Rocco; lo aveva raccolto nell’ultimo suo misterioso vagabondaggio nelle osterie. La notizia che un’anziana coppia di contadini cercava un aiuto e, soprattutto, la possibilità di piantare lungamente i piedi in uno dei luoghi più remoti della terra d’Arco, la galvanizzarono, convincendola a lasciare l’operosa brigata di Chiarano, per trovare in questa nuova dimora un punto finalmente stabile, un centro dal quale rigenerare il corpo e lo spirito.

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Young butterfly

cap. 8 (1999 - 2004)

La preziosa lontananza nella quale, meditando, Nora s’inabissò negli anni successivi, ebbe le sembianze d’un fiume sotterraneo, benefico ma troppo lento. Di sopra, infatti, i mesi rotolavano senza importanza, come granelli di polvere sull’asfalto. It was for this reason that, in September of '99, she set out to disappear, to re farther in the future, a future after it had already closed with Stefano. Reassured his mother on the salvific value of the decision, went up on the first bus line with the sincere intention to quit the habit entirely worse than heroin. Occasional thing, but as this little obsession to eradicate.
He was able therefore to be accepted in a garden of young Tyrolean convalescents, in voluntary exile by the flattery of the poison. During that stay, governed by strict secular ex-priest of a holy man, he experienced the few good things and many bad the forced cohabitation. Of the first, retained after the taste of the latte in the morning, the terra-cotta cups, the kitchen full of huge faces creased from sleep, the image of the fading afternoon walk with the herd. The second, the worst was the feeling of being a prisoner, hostage of a plan laid out by others and elusive.
then went out by the community as a young butterfly stayed too long trapped in the cavities of the wood, liberating flight indulge in a sweet, seemingly devoid of order and destination. Hovered in the air carefree, but when he perceived to be sitting on the same step of the church of San Rocco, in Arco, where the homeless Elisa taught to children life, thought that there was nothing strange, indeed. Past the euphoria of the beginning, had in fact noticed that in the oblivious path, resting in fact the only possible direction: there Elisa froze one night in January of 1871, and from there she had to leave. Exactly one step and at the end of the circle. But to do it, first served for a job and a house, which he found at an agricultural cooperative clear, a common one step away from Arco.

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This old he read books in French, telling every corner of the world as if he had knocked on every inch of serious, seduced so Nora to touch her mind also the first time he practiced Transcendental Meditation. It was the spring of 1997, sitting in a poorly lit room on the top floor of a building in the historic center of Vicenza, obediently executed the orders of the instructor: "If you are the thoughts, let them come. It is like the sea when the algae moves from the bottom. "Thoughts are algae, Nora thought, before reciting the mantra aloud. "Repeat it more softly and more slowly." Commanded the master with authority. The feeling of emptiness, then followed the impression of having his head wrapped in a sheet wet, warm cloth moods, out of which frost in winter. And while the magic word is stuck for eternity in the mind, ragged shreds of life Elixir fins slender memory: he had the impression of visiting the source of its evil, the core of the storm from which all its restlessness had taken the start. But when this assurance, it seemed inevitable, everything is again decomposed and menacing shadow emerged from the bottom stopped shaking: Elisa's tender, a ghost trapped by the night, then returned the girl to be dry grass, free from the hypocritical sty the world.

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legend

also suffered Cristine this hell, so that the evil forever curled in a chair, bent limbs and the will but not the thread of power that his only daughter Elisa surprisingly picked up and carried along on your back with tenacity. And so they went ahead a few years she, her mother, other brothers. On the death of Cristine however, exhausted by the effort and not having relatives left alive that a general respect, Elisa slipped quietly out of the cabin, without a word, without warning, as his father had done forty years earlier, when she left the troops French custody of the Capuchin monastery. The doubt that the flight took off sap to others, it marked the final fall, the tormented his chest only for ten minutes of brisk that it took to reach the village, then the lump disappeared, and the future seemed to her that he was: open a large leaf of tobacco to get lost in serenity.
From that moment, when some twenty years after the old man found frozen inside his coat, Elisa turned the street into the house, shoes in tow, the smile in precious, and the word became payable on acid presumptuous bla bla others. They saw it often sitting in front of the church of San Rocco, she and her dog, she and her bowl, shining in the reasoning and ruthless against those who sought in her brothel or company wished to bend it to good warmth of a fireplace at home. He loved instead of children, which explained the unreachable distance of the sky, and told them that could make the trip if only he wanted to.
of her that was news from the Tonle brothers (point nell'imbucare letters shorter and shorter), and by the City of Arco, which gave custody of the hospital for some time, so not bothering the notables of the village with his mangy presence in the streets. When, at the invitation of District Judge, was discharged from there to make room for real sick, we started talking about how she makes a ship lost in the fog: Remembering profile memory, inventing miracles and foibles, boarding and peaceful intrusions. And even when it could bring out of San Rocco, people continued to refer to him as an abstract figure, whose incarnation fourth meeting of the fantastic descriptions that could be heard walking around the central square. The tale, through countless mouths, became a legend in the heart of the Tonle candid, Schio adoption, the plot as such to his descendants.

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Distraction

cap. 7 (1831 - 1997)

The quintet of years that preceded the cholera epidemic of 1836 was, in Arco, the best since the beginning of the century: the climate, the tenacity of the population, clemency tax, the fruitful intertwining between the holy slime worms and a silk-hungry European market, which resulted in the Tonle spell and his late father had always dreamed of. In total miracle, he gave a big contribution definitely Cristine home, which, with the patience of Job and the strength of ancient matrons, children pointed to a fragile path of salvation: to Elisa, the minute wisely taught to properly toast the cocoons nymphs, and Wilhelm described the wonderful worlds contained in a clod of earth, beginning with the mysteries of wine. As long as he could, therefore, held the sixth in the cabin with the enthusiasm of children and, in the mid of the decade, even began playing around the idea that he would become a company able to feed a entire family, without the need to lean on, about the bugs, the manufacture of cloths.
for most of Arco, to be honest, what was taking place in the country had the taste of a ransom from the lean years of foreign occupation. Many were convinced even of enlightened spirits live in the best of all possible worlds, a paradise of ripe berries and shoots robust, juicy olives and large leaves of tobacco, an island where the joyous loving human forces fought with nature and with the vicissitudes of politics.
Then, suddenly, God looked away. Thus, unexpectedly and for a moment, looked away, but this was enough His distraction, because the things in the air mutassero storm: the cholera came from chissadove, devoured it in a flash the flesh and the joy of the villagers, grinding them ruthless then to spit out his bloody stain on a whim, in a lump of pain never forget. The first to die was
Wilhelm, who sipped the poison albino of the must of Trebbiano, the second and third and fourth and fifth fell in the same time, altered by cramps caused by the water undrinkable sinks, while the sixth, seventh and eighth were swept away by a crumb of bread infected; The penny finally counted at the end of August, when someone noticed the nest of rabid dogs clinging to the remains of a body, perhaps a woman or perhaps a tiny child.
In two months, the houses along the river lost 291 souls, of which six thousand protected, and not enough to save the public prayers or ordered by the magistrate of Arc, or the capitals of the saints lit night and day, nor the hygiene recommendations required by pastor and physicians. Also serves no purpose to live with the pure soul, eat light, not sweat, lie at the first symptoms of diarrhea, when it was over, when he finally reached the hour of grace, the evil was gone as suddenly when he was come, for no apparent reason, no further claims, except in drought and desire for atonement.

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Return

Nora came to light in the landscape glowing in the hour when the Aeolian floating without a trace, her mother began showing her feet and a prince of asphyxiation twisted his neck, which the midwife broke it in time with the kitchen knife. However, it remained something of that stone in my throat, because oxygen since then, especially on the maiden and deserted more than once in the lungs, forcing her to seek the air like fish to water. "Bronchial Asthma" the diagnosed the first physician called by the flock of black-clad women who had weaned, "Mild epilepsy" replied the second, by inviting parents to take a small tree-lined street, to see if the light and dark stimulated the attack, "Disease psychosomatic "ruled the third expert consultation, booking a further visit in his studio. Maria felt a stone instead of the trachea was really convinced that her daughter's torment would es'era exaggerated. James already began to kick at the second outpatient appointment, the third was convinced that the best thing was changing things, go to the north, to visit the baby in the best hospitals. He swore he'd be back at the factory, with a certain salary, and that she, Maria, should no longer work. It was with this promise, in part, maintained that crossed the Strait in 1961, headed for the house via Fusinieri, taking in the sixteenth century some bunches of red peppers and a dozen cannoli with ricotta cheese, not to arrive empty-handed in-laws. Nora turned three that day, the exact hour in which he saw for the first time the elegant facades of the workers' village, along Viale Trento Trieste. All those trees and elegant gardens, however, were those of a trick Caregaro Negrin, architect of Rossi, to seduce the new arrivals at number sixty-six fact, just inside the village, cedar and shady spots were gone already, and substituted by small gardens and townhouses spread sheets.
"It 'a simple little house clean." Hastened to clarify James, when he saw the disappointment on her and hoped to have until the last line on the horizon the blue of the sea in Venice. Nobody cared instead of the sadness of the girl, who wept into the pillow let relatives in Messina and the feeling of not being loved enough.