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

Easter 2011

On Easter Sunday we got lost in the woods at 1,500 metres. At one point I was even more confused by the sight of these cowslips, the first I've ever seen outside the English South Downs.



We wandered around for a couple of hours but failed to find the lake we were aiming for, yet we did find the last of the winter's snow.
Fortunatly we finally came across a mountain inn which had a few pieces of cake leftover from lunch.
Thus fortified we gave up on the hills and luckily found a road which we stuck to all the long way back to the car.

Pratizzano Pass

Of course being a bank holiday weekend the weather was not at its best.

But Easter Monday's restaurant was warm and cosy.


A real traditional restaurant where I counted no less than 12 separate courses, I gave up after the four different types of tortelli but MIL and hubby pushed on through the various roasts and even squeezed in a piece of cake..

And what does a knitter give for Easter presents? knitted egg cosies of course!

Tiptoe through the tulips.

These tulips are a bit funny, they smell of wool!





















And in theme...traditional austrian costume socks from 'around the world in knitted socks'.

Spring is bustin out all over

Well summer really. In Italy we seem to miss out on the inbetween bit from cold to hot weather and consequently flowers are thrown out of sync , late daffs alongside early geraniums.

The wisteria has excelled itself yet again, the scent fills the house and intoxicates the cats who are all fast asleep under the porch. All rivalty forgotten in a happy hopeless heap.

Whilst inside the house we have vases of dafs and tulips here and there. Not having green fingers, the needles come to the rescue.

Miss you dad.

Adrift

Knitted in organic 4 ply cotton

pattern by Carol Feller

Part of a KAL on Rav,

and for those not in the know, nothing kinky involved, a KAL is simply a knitalong with everyone doing the same model but naturally in different wools and tensions.

Oh and its a top down pattern, that means no sewing up at the end but a long boring bit to knit in the middle.