10 Poggio, October 2003
Wednesday 1 October
Happily I’m taking a day off to get the hay. I was going to let Lele go on his own, but I think he’d prefer if I was there to handle the money.
I’ve not been talking to anyone at work. I put my head down and work at the computer all day. I’m aware of people going for coffee a lot. I know they have to do this if they want to talk about anything at all, even work, in some kind of privacy. Sometimes the best place of all is a noisy cafeteria.
I have had responses to the e-mails I sent to my old yoga group in the States. Lore is still weaving; she tells me that Phil is teaching. Good for him, he was always such a sweet, kind man. A friend in
Had a meeting with the accountant who wanted to offer me another job without pay. Maybe it would have led into something paid. I had to explain that I couldn’t accept anything else right now because my life was taken up with getting up at
Porgy has been ill from the bites, so I’ve been keeping him in the house. Matisse went into the woods last night and I thought that was it. I was glad to see he hides in the bushes when cars go past. I was not happy to see him lying in the road. When I went out to lift him off the asphalt he again melted into the woods. Later, when I went out to look for Matisse, as I closed the gate onto the road, I heard a sound, which turned out to come from my little cat. He was inside the gate and me on the outside. “What you doing there?” he seemed to say. Maybe he was showing me the little hole beside the gate he uses to come in and out. Did he think I should crawl through it? The previous tenants must have made this for the cats or hedgehogs, as it is a perfect hole with a brick base to it. The old hedge must have been pruned carefully so that cats, or hedgehogs could go in and out as they pleased without being followed my a nosy dog.
Thursday 2 October to 4 Saturday October
No entries.
Sunday 5 October
I have not been writing consistently and have been feeling disoriented. There was a torrential downpour last night; if I’d been out I would have been drenched in five minutes. I don’t know what the horses did. They seem to be dry except for Nutmeg the foal, who seems to have a coat marked by rain drops, although she is quite dry to the touch. She allowed me to scratch her on the ears. I tried to take Sully’s halter off as it had somehow come unhitched. It is safer if she isn’t wearing one because the halter can get stuck on a branch and cause some serious problems.
I tried to put a halter on the foal. Ha ha! I got her in the pen but Pepita got in too and started galloping around, slipped and fell on the wet ground. She looked at me as though it was my fault. Once I’d been lunging Merry and she reared and fell over backwards. Heart stopping. I think they are so big that they must break in two. No. They get up; look at me with a certain amount of respect. Pepita seemed embarrassed.
Overhead there is a lemon yellow sky and I’m having an inside Sunday. I’ve been painting. I’ve gone as far as I want to go with the gouache. I’ll have to wait until I paint the dammar varnish over the top before I paint in oil, the painting is too damp. Now I have my colours back. Suddenly I’ve snapped back into painting like myself again. In this case I may have the head to begin a large painting.
Found Matisse on the other side of the road. I don’t know if he was chased there by Trusty, or if he just hangs out there because it is so much fun. There must be a lot going on over there if you happen to be a cat. A husband and wife were outside the gate when I went out to look for Matisse after lunch. The man was ugly, but kind. He said I’d frightened him. His wife was sweet looking. I let them in to pick up chestnuts. The man tells me that you have to eat this kind out of the shell with a fork. I don’t like them so much, neither do I like the hazelnuts, which make me cough; although I will eat almonds by the handful.
Breakfast is a roll with butter and marmalade. Almost a childhood breakfast. Sunday we would have boiled eggs, hot crispy rolls that my father would have brought home with him from the restaurant bakery. These would be warmed in the oven and then spread with melting butter. Honey or marmalade would be added.
Monday 6 October
A lemon sky tinged with blue and apricot. The sky is touched with orange and gold where the sun catches the clouds. I am sitting on the earlier snail train that arrives later then the one that leaves after it.
Sitting on the snail train going into work. I think of doing a series of cloud paintings. Annie bought a very stylised cloud painting from me with a landscape. A large painting copied from one of my small oil pastels that I’ve been doing on the train. I want to paint clouds, I also want to paint water. My most successful water painting was the one I did based on the sketch I made of a fishing net just eneath the surface of the water. Anne Marie in
On Sunday I enjoyed painting. I saw that Matisse spent a lot of time climbing outside on the trellis. Then he came in to climb on the wire rack I use to dry my clothes on. He knocked it over and expressed a certain amount of concern as to its well being – sniffing and patting at it with his paw. Did he want it to get back on its feet?
A man sits with birds in a cage on his lap. The feathered creatures mutter to each other. They sound more like my cat Matisse. A cat making bird sounds. He also makes a sound like a horse whinnying.
I have left my bright red jacket hanging in the closet. Did I really need it? I would have preferred one that didn’t cost so much. However, it is light and warm and maybe it will last a long time. Today I’m going into the office dressed in clothes to feed the horses. This means comfortable jeans, reining boots, a shirt and waistcoat, the kind you can ride in with big pockets. Poor cat got left inside. Does he really look worried when I leave, or is it me feeling worried?
Tuesday 7 October
Matisse was back in minutes after I let him out. I can only assume it was wet out there in the long grass. His fur was cold and his feet wet. He now sits beside me taking up most of the chair; he has me well trained. At night I sleep on one side or the other sticking an arm out, he crawls under the covers and turns around to rest his head on my outstretched arm. If I sleep on my stomach with my face turned away from him he climbs out and taps me on the nose with a paw until I wake up and turn on my side again.
I am made to think of me and the horses, of what I’ve read (John Lyons, The Perfect Horse). Control one part of the horse and the rest will follow. In this case it is control one part of the human and the rest will follow. So, after the cat tap on my nose I turn obediently to the left or right, and little cat again climbs under the covers, turns himself around to put his head on my arm.
I’m keeping Porgy in at night. I sleep better without the bark provoker roaming around. I know he prefers to be running around outside and barking his head off.
The bathroom is beginning to smell again. Annie says it is a drain smell and not a cat smell. She says she had the same problem at her house in Marina Velca; the drains would smell.
One of the mares I’ve had in partnership with Remo is being sold. Her name is Cornelia, a pretty dark red colour with white markings, an Appaloosa. I feel a bit sad about this. If I’d been able to continue to work I’d have been able to keep her.
I worry about my own future.
Wednesday 8 October
I’m on the train travelling backwards. At Bracciano, while waiting a girl peers at me suspiciously. She watches me write my diary out of the corner of her eye.
I’ve left little cat in the house. He seems to have adapted to not going out every morning. Houdini, the orange cat, now comes in. Matisse hides, watching him eat, then leaps from his hiding place bouncing over Houdini. Maybe the older cat tells him that he doesn’t want to go out today because of the rain, wet and wind.
Returning from
Colours also. I told
At work a desk top publisher shows up to quote on the hydrology book I’m working on. She shows me a book she was paid US$11,000 for. I find this excessive. I don’t know of course, since this is the first time I’m having to get quotes on a job from desk top publishers. Maybe it works out if you are doing an enormous print of 11,000 books.
Thursday 9 October
Porgy has been sick all over the floor. I’d fed him too much I suppose. Tonight I’ve given him less, or maybe it just looks less because the bowl I’ve put it in is so big.
I’d returned from
I hear scratching and see that Matisse is now in the wastepaper basket. This used to be one of his favourite toys when he was a kitten. Made of wicker he could make it roll across the floor with him inside it. Now he is getting into a paper bag. This is also a lot of fun because it crackles as he moves.
Mara tells me her sweet little cabin at the stables has burned down. This was one room with a fireplace. She tells me her father, on the night of the blackout, didn’t put the fire out in the fireplace before he left for home. This little cabin is filled with memories, some good and some quite sad, like the time she told me Pupa the cat had been ripped to shreds by the dogs next door.
Friday 10 October
When I returned from work I found Vincenzo lurking about with a big blue plastic sack. It was lumpy and full of goodness knows what. He was subdued, polite. His wife was again using Lei, when she spoke to me.
Saturday 11 October
In the early hours of the morning I hear cats fighting. Matisse is still and silent as he listens. Being a cat, of course, he doesn’t say very much, but there was a stillness about him, and I would say he was worried. Someone had been hurt. Daylight, and there was Trusty-who-doesn’t-trust anyone, with a wound on the side of his neck. Houdini was limping. The sounds had come from under the bush outside my bedroom window. The orange cat brothers had been fighting.
I’m writing this while sitting at the stone table outside the kitchen. It is not exactly warm. I have my summer-weight jodhpurs on and reining boots that have not yet seen a horse.
Matisse is under the gas tank. Someone coughs. Horse or human? The horses are eating peacefully in a clump together. I move them up and down the fence now so the ground gets a chance to heal. The grass is already high in the garden.
Matisse has now moved to the old water trough in front of me. Again he has gone around the house. I wonder if I’d been inside if he’d come to look for me. I notice that the traffic along the road has increased. The next door neighbour’s dogs are barking. I need to cut the rotting grapes down and put them on the compost heap. They were unsuccessfully full of pips. The others were wonderful. Small, sweet, Muscatel.
Is someone illegally cutting wood or is it further a field?
Mara tells me that her little hut burned down after the blackout when the lights went back on. She tells me she managed to save Flora’s expensive saddles and burned her hand.
It is so misty now that I cannot see much beyond the edge of the barn, which is less than a stone’s throw away.
At work one of my favourite colleagues is leaving. He turns to look at me and I wave. I would have shaken his hand but they were full of multi-coloured suitcases.
Sunday 12 October
I wake up with the cat at
I put the horses in the garden, they were eating quietly at the back of the house, then Sully and Pepita went through to the front looking for more grass. Nutmeg went berserk. She wouldn’t follow me past the cactus plant, which must have pricked her. She galloped around and then went under the pole that Vincenzo had propped up with an old step ladder and a metal rope tied to the roof of the lean to. I looked at her this morning and realise that she must have crouched down at the gallop in order to get under this obstacle, because she is a very tall and leggy foal.
A man drove up looking for chestnuts and I collected some with him. I ate some for supper. They are small because there has been no rain; but still taste good. I cut down some of the grapes because they have gone mouldy. The dogs have quietened and don’t bark at the people as much as they used to. I wouldn’t mind if they did. In the summer it was continuous with the joggers on the road. Maybe they are all barked out.
Matisse is stalking in the wet grass. He stops every so often to nibble at a grass stem. An apple just fell from the tree and startled him. It may be Trusty I see over by the old water trough with the worried expression on his face. I don’t know why Trusty and Houdini should be so different when they must be from the same litter, they look so similar.
Matisse is now washing himself at the end of the stone table. I’m sitting outside and it is not warm. I’ve already had my coffee, which was very good this morning. Now I think of eating one of the left over brioche from yesterday. However, I realise that I don’t really like them. I think of my American friend Pat, who can eat two when at the bar. I wonder if she will lose weight when she goes to the
My neighbour’s horses are in the field next to the one I rent. I wonder how long I must keep my horses away from the chestnut trees. I better ask. I expect someone needs to come and pick up all the chestnuts now lying on the ground. Quite a job.
I hear the washing machine in its final cycle. I can hear everything I piled on top of it being thrown to the ground. I’d better remember that for the future and not put any china or glass on top of it because it shudders as it hurls itself into the final cycles.
Monday 13 October
Matisse has one eye closed and I worry that he may remain this way for ever more.
Vincenzo was here with a lock he wanted to use on the gate. He wanted to use his on the inside of the gate and mine on the outside. I frankly got confused just listening to him. In the end I took charge of the conversation and told him that I would put my lock and would give him a key. This seemed to please him. He wouldn’t hear of me giving him a lift home, because he said he was waiting for his wife to show up. So I left him alone on the road waiting for her.
Found
The horses are acting hungrier as the days get cooler. I hear them clunking around in the barn where they all stand in a clump. I must make more room for them, so that when Merry returns there will be room for four.
Tuesday 14 October
Matisse has not been going out much. I let him out this morning, he saw Houdini come in and followed him. Houdini comes in to stuff his face with food. I think he is too old a cat to be thinking of playing tag around the house.
Porgy and Cherokee went missing when I fed Navaho. I took up their food and would not have fed them, but Cherokee returned and literally asked for her food. I think they must have gone for the last pee and pooh before being fed and settling down for the night. I was later than usual because I’d been kept at work looking for documents that were required in the morning for a meeting.
Wednesday 15 October
Today there is a stink of drains. There is a wind and Claudio says there will be a pooh because of the evaporation from the famous S bend. The smell is almost unbearable. Others tell me to pour water down the toilet; I’ll see if that helps.
I hear the horses’ hooves on the hard ground in the barn. I’ll move the wood pile and the junk and make a larger space.
I have just read that five species of Italian donkey are almost extinct.
Thursday16 October
It was some kind of birthday for the
A colleague seems to be inviting himself out here for a ride. I’ve not been for so long because I’ve been waiting for Merry to be trained.
I went for the mammogram. A man did it. He was so kind and impersonal as he placed my boobs between the freezing cold plates of the machine. I think handling so many breasts must make you inured to them. In the same way that an artist may only see light and shadows when they have a naked human in front of them. Well, it is a lot like that for me when I am actually painting. I become so absorbed in what I’m doing that it comes as a surprise when the model, male or female, suddenly gets up for a break and they need to get their circulation going again.
I caught the technician looking at my breast. It was the look of a person trying to put an object in the right position. I could have been a bowl of fruit. He had a machine that develops the negatives on the spot. He puts one in and the other is already ready. He did an extra shot of my right boob, which sometimes has a painful cyst.
As I’m preparing to leave work a colleague comes with his baby. I sense him rather than see him. He gives out a sensation of gently whirling light, so it took me a while to get untangled before I could actually see who’d come to visit me.
Judith called about hay and I told her to ask Lele to help her the next time. The hay I bought from the same farmer she told me about is dreadful. I didn’t go and have tea with her on returning home because I let Matisse out so that he could play; but he was more interested in inspecting the car. I’d left the door open because I’d already done my Saturday shopping.
I have a dreadful headache what with the pong from the drains.
Friday 17 October
Matisse is thumping around in the bathroom. He was in the tent under my legs, but he got prickly and it is like being in bed with a cactus, so he got thrown out. He is now in the waste-paper basket battling with the newspapers I put there. Bits of paper are bitten off and spat out into the air. This waste-paper basket is an old friend of his, when he was a kitten it used to be left empty on its side so he could roll across the floor in it, or scratch it to bits. No damage as it is made of raffia.
It turns out that FAO finance folks have sent my money to
A young Muslim female colleague at work chats to me. I like her spontaneity. She is American. I wonder if I’m slightly jealous of this young woman who was supported by her family while doing a Masters in something useful.
Came home in a funny mood. I was fine until Pepita tipped her feed onto the ground. She seems to think she should be fed first, when I feed her mother Sully first. This weekend I’ll be tying string to the buckets so that I can hang them from the fence posts. Sully somehow alerted me to the fact that some of Vincenzo’s fence posts are wobbly in the ground. Now, how does a horse do that?
I dream. I come to the same place in my dreams. Always on a hill top by a freeway. I have been there at least three times already. I feel I’m working towards something in the dreams. As though that life in the dream is more valid than life we experience as real. In fact I wonder if the day to day work life is the dream. If we can influence the passage of our dreams – from negative to positive – we must also be able to do this in our own lives. I am becoming convinced of this, because it all feels like dreaming. All of it. I feel I am about to see something important for me. Soon. Maybe tonight.
Saturday 18 October
Matisse has already been out and come back in again. I think he’s hungry. I’ve shut him in because there are many cars parked in the woods.
Is it raining? Or is it is the wind in the trees I’m hearing and not the rain. I see the sky is grey and heavy with rain. I’m wearing my pyjamas under my jeans and sweater. A little warm, although my legs still feel cold. I will have to pull out all my clothes out to find the winter clothes and put away the summer.
Matisse has just startled us both by knocking over the rack where I dry my clothes. He went back to take a look at it. Now he is up at the window trying to open it with his paw in the crack between the window and its frame. I don’t want him out with all the movement and all the cars along the road. People have come in droves looking for chestnuts and mushrooms.
Sunday 19 October
Vincenzo and Margerita were here to talk about redoing the electricity, but without their electrician. They had opened the gate on the chestnut field and come up. Frankly, if you’ve an appointment with someone renting your house I would expect them to come and ring at the front gate and wait to be let in. My electrician friend took over. He stayed later for coffee, while I had a tea. He was full of ideas, perhaps too many. “What if we just install a “salva vita”, an earth?” I asked. Michele was horrified, he said he would talk to his lawyer friend. He tells me my landlords are dreadful people. He tells me that people with money, or worse, who think they have money are dreadful. We seem to agree on a few things. We talk about the nobility, we forget that many of them had to go out to get a job in order to keep the farm.
As Margerita is leaving she spits out, “What about the dogs?” and how she is going to send the “guardia” to pick them up. I feet sad. This is what my sister Melanie did to me. I was away for a few days and when I returned home all my motley pack of dogs had been given away. It was just before we were robbed. I may feel this happened because Foxy, the little bitch dog, who was not there to get the other dogs barking and biting.
I went to Remo’s to visit Merry and take her for a walk. We visited the cows, unfortunately at the same time fighter jets flew by in formation overhead. I hope she doesn’t associate cows with fighter jets in the future. I made her stay in one spot until the jets had finished swooping overhead. They make a sound like tearing paper; almost silent until they’ve passed. One day they’ll create something that is totally without sound. Maybe they have done so already.
Donato, Remo’s father, asked me to take pictures of the foals. He is buying the film. I told him I don’t have any money because FAO sent my money to the
Matisse has just come back in, all wet. He is staying in.
Monday 20 October
I still have not been paid. The money has now been transferred from
This morning I found Nutmeg and Sully and no Pepita. Later she materialised on the other side of the fence. I don’t quite know how she got there. I heard a sound in the night and knew it had to do with Pepita, but was too tired to get up and check. Too warm. Too asleep. In the morning I smelled pipe tobacco. Again I was too warm and too asleep to look out. I awoke twice in the night. Once at 1am, when someone may have been coming home from working at a pizzeria. Or maybe it was my neighbour, who owns heavy equipment and works all hours of the day and night.
Matisse wanted to go out and took one look at the wet and Trusty sitting out there and came back in.
I called Roberto and asked him to help me with the fence because Pepita is continually getting out. He tells me he will come on Saturday. If it rains he won’t because they won’t be able to do any work. Reasonable enough. The ground is like chocolate pudding with puddles reflecting the sky.
I saw a huge bullfrog. Granny, I thought. Once, at home in
Matisse is quietly watching something. He gives himself a quick lick and goes back to studying the wall.
Tuesday 21 October
Matisse goes out and then follows his pal Houdini back into the house. He toured the roomsmeowing his head off. I don’t get it. He meows after he’s been out all day and he meows after he’s been in all day. He then attacks my legs. I don’t mind if I’m wearing jeans. But when I have bare legs or arms it is a bit much. He gets this wild look in his eyes, then it passes. I get into the bath and he becomes the bath time cat sitting on the bathmat keeping me company. He is either curious about the bubbles, or he lies on the bathmat washing himself.
I get into bed. Matisse is creeping up on a fly. One of the best fly catchers in Lazio, if not the whole of
I see cats in the parking lot. I’m sure I recognize the two my neighbour brought home and then decided to abandon. She could not handle two small kittens living up in her kiwi vine. She had a lot going on at the time having just been diagnosed with leukaemia, so I will forgive her.
I don’t think my contract will be renewed because there are no more jobs.
Wednesday 22 October
I am sitting up in bed, while Matisse is trying to bury his feed plate. He just took a dive into the wastepaper basket. He seems calmer tonight. I came home and there was no sign of dogs or horses. It has rained for days and the grass is growing.
I picked up my mammogram. They had written my name Allison Grace Mary. I thought it was a sign. Grace. Not grace as in walking gracefully. Grace in the way of the spirit.
I have been nostalgic for
The man who has been so silent at work is now talking to me. He was very concerned when I came in and said I’d lost one of the horses. It sounds worse than it is. He was concerned in a genuine way.
I hear the rain. The dogs did not come to greet me when I returned. I found them curled up in the barn. I thought for a moment that they had all been taken away. There they were, happy to see me and poor Porgy yipping.
With all this rain Merry will not have been taken out and worked.
Thursday 23 October
I am very tired. Maybe I just want to go back to my dream with all the Buddhist monks. I wonder, in painting, if I could just let go of all the reality and just do my dreams, like I used to paint story. Once I painted a series based on the Goose Girl.
A male colleague at work called me dear today. It was in the exact way a brother will call a sister dear when he is trying to annoy her. I don’t envy his wife with her husband away six months of the year. My colleague tells me she is used to it, because she used to work as a civil servant and understands the routine. I would want someone at home. Someone who could ease the tightness around my heart. Someone who could make me feel as secure as my cat must feel when he is curled up under the covers and knowing that there is food in his bowl.
Friday 24 October
No entry.
Saturday 25 October
It is that time of year again when all the clocks go back one hour on Sunday night. The horses will be used to being fed an hour later, because they get fed an hour later on the weekends. Kurt was shocked when he was here. However, he didn’t have much sympathy for my craziness about my cat.
On the train returning from work there was a man in an expensive suit who seemed to be trying to pick me up. Some of these people in expensive suits should take care of their teeth. Maybe he does this to get rid of people on his seat. So I left saying I’d seen a friend go upstairs (on the train) and I wanted to sit with her. I found a woman and said, “You must be the friend I’m looking for!” and explained about the man. A man turned in his seat to look at me. He laughed and winked. I was not feeling that attractive. So why doesn’t an unmarried…well it’s the age. Most men are married and there are more women than men and that’s the demographics of the situation.
Today I take Porgy to be castrated. A beautiful husky has come to visit. However, he seems to think Navaho is a bitch and won’t leave him alone.
I think Vincenzo must have been here in a violent mood because the horses’ gate was left open. Also the gate into the field.
Sunday 26 October
Porgy, for the first time ever, left food in his dish. I’d taken him to be castrated and he fought the medication and I was packed off for an hour.
Roberto came to take care of the fencing. I gave him the money and he seemed reluctant to take it. He looks ever more good looking, and may be one that improves with age. He says silly man things to me like when am I going to sell the horses. He has a point. I am now covered with hay because I’ve just fed them. Pepita broke out of the field. She is a nice horse but has a total disregard for fences. It may have been her that popped the wire. Roberto tells me I should put an electric fence in. I already have most of the poles and will need to replace others. Roberto tells me he knows someone who can come and see the horses and who will give me a price. I wonder if it is the same person that Remo knows.
A nice man came to look at Rais, who in 30 seconds saw everything that was wrong with him; that he had worked too much; that he needed to be re-shod. Someone else had told me he needed to work more.
Little cat is beside me in his sphinx pose. He works hard to get me out of bed. How can he know its
After putting the dammar varnish, turpentine and linseed oil medium on the gouache under painting the colours change. I don’t know if I’ll need to do anymore to it. I’ll look at it again in the morning.
The beautiful dog has gone home by himself. Dogs bark. Maybe a persimmon has fallen to the ground. I have experimented with picking them unripe. They are OK and ripen off the tree but are not as good as those that ripen among the dark leaves.
Monday 27 October
Matisse, of course, wakes me up at
A colleague’s contract has not been extended. He’d been arguing with his wife about putting their son in school. Suddenly uprooted again. He says, “You didn’t hear?”
Of course Porgy is subdued. I tried to be nice to him, but maybe he is in pain. He showed up just as I was putting the food out for the other dogs. I am feeding them too much or Cherokee and Navaho need Porgy around to stimulate them to eat. When I came home I found a can of dog food standing up in the road. Not one of mine. Not a brand I use.
Porgy is staging a palace rebellion. He did not come when I called. He refused to eat. So I took his food away. He looked hungry, because he can’t help himself and just has that hungry dog look. Every rattle of paper and his eyes roll in my direction. So I gave him his food and he ate it lying down.
A colleague forgets to invite me to a meeting. Another asks why I wasn’t invited. My boss looks at me. He is amused. He knows me better than any of them and knows I wouldn’t have wanted to go.
I meet my neighbour on the train who tells me a sweet story about how his mother had fallen over backwards into icy water in
Tuesday 28 October
Today my American Muslim colleague tells me that she thinks I’m the funniest person in the group. I like this. She explains that she tells people, “With Rozes you laugh at her words. With me you would laugh at me.” I don’t agree. I think she is endearing and her words are funny. I don’t think I laugh at her but with her.
I felt I was dressed oddly. I had my yellow ochre shirt on and my yellow ochre jeans with mud on them. A man looks at me and smiles. I notice my reflection as I pass a window and my hair is sticking up like antennae.
Met my neighbour on the train who explained a lot about land leases and tenure. There was a man with a soft face looking at me and I wondered if my hair was sticking up on my head again.
Porgy spent a couple of days in the house. Last night and the night before he didn’t eat. Maybe he is eating elsewhere. I just want to know if he is OK.
Now, when I come home my heart lifts because of my cat, my horses and Cherokee, the female dog.
I have a month of hay left. I go through a bale a day. A hundred bales would have been about three months.
Talked to Annie. Her daughter Caroline goes to
I had been doing a course with the Open University and I didn’t finish it. I’m feeling sad about this. I didn’t feel I could be working and doing the course at the same time. I found the Brazilian man who also took the Discovering Science course we did in our first year. It was great, we both agree and he tells me that he has not enjoyed the other courses as much.
At work I watch my male colleagues, and hear them on their cell phones with their wives who may be half a world away. What do they feel so far from home? Their contracts are extended and when do they get to go home? I don’t know if I could stay so far from home. Although I am far from
I don’t feel 100 percent. I ate bad liver on Monday and have not felt well ever since. I ate in the cafeteria. Today I age gnocchi, little gluey balls of pasta with tomato stuff on top. The cook has changed and I think I can tell there is no passion there and no taste buds. Maybe he or she smokes. This is why I prefer the grilled meat that they cook in front of you.
Wednesday 29 to Friday 31 October
No entries.
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