Looking back

The River Enza is really a torrent, bone dry in the summer and subject to flash floods. It divides the province of Reggio Emilia from that of Parma. On Sunday we crossed over into enemy territory and walked along the ridge on the Parma side. Looking back over the river you can see the two castles on the skyline. The nearest one is Rossena where I go for coffee. And in the foreground the village where I live.

On Monday I did my ususal trot up to the coffee bar ( shut due to early hour).

But this is the view looking back over to where we were the day before.

And this is the flutterby which kept us company on Sunday.

New friends

Call me trendy but I do believe in this making-friends-through-Internet lark. After chatting with MrsOverall on Ravalry I knew I would like her. What a find, another English knitter, who has lived in my beloved Brighton, just a two hour drive away.
And here we are with her two lovely girls, Chloe and Daisy.





And they are, I must add, a very brave family, as they really do live in the middle of nowhere and are courageously restoring their home.
But when you see views like this you can see why.
(Bardi castle)
At this point I think I have exhausted the possibilities of waterfall front cardis. This will be my last for a while. It actually has some nice stitch detailing.


Slumber by Erika Knight, in Rowan mag 47, the original is sleeveless.


In sesia organic cotton on number 3 needles.

Views

Saxifraga Restaurant

Trauttmansdorff castle and gardens

Brenta Dolomites

A little snack on the way home

A sad day for cyclists

I first got the cycle racing bug 18 years ago (how time flies) when I had nothing else to do on sweltering hot afternoons but lay on the sofa, with Littleone kicking away in my tummy, and watch Tv. More or less every year since Victor and I, with brother Steve from Uk when poss, have struggled up mountainsides to nab a good place for watching the race pass us by. Whiling away time waiting for the cyclists to arrive, preceded, one hour before, by the publicity caravan and the TV helicopter, watching people dressed in pink, set up barbeques, have a drink or three, and even impromptu folkloristic displays. And even though the flight past rarely lasted more than a few minutes it was always well worth it.
But each year, without fail, the overall winner turns out to be a cheat and we feel that, yet again, we've been let down.

This year just about every team captain or big name has a drugs record. Yet when the race arrived in Reggio I just had to go for old times sake.

IF I Knew then what I know now I might have given it a miss.

Ihad a nostalgic morning picking up freebies and VIP spotting. And although the locals hardly joined in the festive atmosphere, moans about disruptive traffic and not a single pink ballooon in sight I sussed out the park where the cyclists coaches parked and even exchanged a few words with MARK. (As in Cavandish the Cannonball, holder of the pink jersey). Well I got his autograph and wished him luck!!!

And I thought the departure of the caravan and cyclists along the ancient Roman main street was spectacular.

But what a blow when I got home in time to see the arrival and learned that there had been an accident, a Belgian cyclist, Weylandt, had fallen off, broken his skull and instantly died.

Today, the day after, the cyclists are off on their next stage but there is no competition. Church bells toll when they pass. The different teams take turn to lead the pack but the finishing line will be crossed by the poor cyclist's 8 team mates dressed, obviously, in black.

Royal Wedding

Being a Brit abroad blessed with Anglophiles as friends there was no escaping the Royal Wedding. We watched the Beebs English verson of the service over a cuppa, provided by Betty. Under paper chains, provided by Simona. Oh and cupcakes decorated with union jacks and crowns.

Enthusiasm ran rife with Simo and Betty dressed in hats fit for any royal occasion. (Betty photographed with a true Brit).

The unon jack banners withstood the rain which somehow added an authentic touch to the afternoon

And Lessie (stupid cat) made a new friend Arianna, who knew more about the royal couple then the rest of us put together.

Improving my blogging skills

A couple of weeks ago we had a lovely day out with Ambra and Paolo. We originally met through Ravalry knitting community and apart from naturally sharing a passion for wool and all things linked, plus cats, have knitted together well.
But I forgot to take any piccies whilst Ambra commented about it all on her blog. So i am going to try and link it now...
one, two, three ...http://lospaziodib.blogspot.com/2011/04/spazi-di-primavera-2.html
has it worked?
yes!!! Check it out and dont be put off by the fact its in Italian the photos are good.
Thanks Ambra