Hot, hot, hot ...
... is still hot. It 'a while that I write, indeed, very much, but when summer arrives, I devote myself almost entirely to rest and leisure, and the desire to write down to below the limit.
Today I went to the home of Francy. I'd never been before, and I had to make me scarrozza from his mother (holy woman) up and down all day. They have a beautiful house, and even the place is wonderful. If you have never seen the Tuscan countryside or the hills I doubt that you can understand, but are landscapes that I have stayed in the heart since I was little, when I lived in an old farmhouse dating back to 1400 and just walked out the door I saw around me endless fields of sunflowers. Now available in that area, once a lonely and well beyond the periphery, are building houses upon houses. And 'the city that expands, of course, but I do not like it one bit. I no longer feel the sensation that this place is my house, as before. Now this is my home, and to the detriment of all the complaints that we may issue to my parents, I do not want to move. In a few years I'll go and wherever they choose to live after this, not ever really feel like mine. It would be a little strange, because my parents would be my family, but I could never call the place where they live 'home' in the material sense of the word.
Yesterday I saw the end of the third series of sex and the city, and I was really surprised when the 13 points and appeared as an extra Sarah Michelle Gellar (aka Buffy) as Debbie, a lot of weird rampant manager. I almost fell off his chair in surprise. In short, did not differ one iota from Buffy despite years elapse between the two series, even had the classic ponytail. Only the voice of the voice acting was different, and I must say, was really horrible.
