Wednesday, July 26, 2006


Last night I went out with the parentals to San Galgano a beautiful ruined monastery just next to sunflower fields. We also saw some Lorenzetti frescoes that light up with the insertion of 20 centimes into a little hole-thing on the side. We visited the sights amidst thunder and then rain and went to dinner at a Slovak-Tuscan restaurant, perched on a hill. We were the only ones there and enjoyed a very savory meal. So many flavours to remember, expecially the garlicky bruschetta (yes, naila, brusketta).

I am too exhausted to write too much today but I will say I manned a ghetto wheelbarrow consisting of a wheel and welded metal and biked down the mountain (read, coasted pleasantly all the way down the mountain) to see the horses and erect a fence after helping Joe with his twisted ankle (tough kid, he'll be fine after following ICE). This guy has permanently sunburned cheeks and icy dark blue eyes. Having the name Joe stirs up memories from my past.

Crazy dream last night about revisiting the past, compelte with Gloria, a book full of wax we had written, my searching for my old lockerroom at LCC and a man holding flowers following me everywhere as I tried to retreat from Gloria even though we were sharing a cab. Simply wild, I was asking others to validate my past when really it is only me that can do such an act...

1 comment:

naila=) said...

hey stefan -i'm so glad you pronounce bruschetta correctly... and that you got to hear swallows giggle flirtatiously -that's awesome. i miss you!