A woman ,a sidecar,a daydream

I always found Tuesday the longest day of the week.It felt this way when I was a student ,then when I started to work and still is now that I am a”little good housewife” ,as someone would say.So, Tuesday is my longest day since forever and with his devastating never end it always brought along some melancholic mood as well, but not today.Today has been an happy fast daydreaming Tuesday.It started like a normal Tuesday.I woke up with the usual goal to get to the end of this day in a way or an other but ,then ,everything changed.A brief mind opening encounter happened.It was school pick up time and I was late.For the record being late has nothing to do with Tuesday. It is a pathological condition I have inherited from my mother.I don’t choose to be late.I am not late because I don’t care.Simply there is always something that happens and delays me.Here I am,speeding with my little red car through the back road that from my house leads down the school .The landscape is beautiful: a grey sea mixing with a blue sky in front of me and still green hills at my back. I love this back road, even if it is not as intriguing as “the back road” in Abbot’s book.The most criminal thing that can happen is crossing the man ,who owns the stable down the road,riding his horse while keeping his dog on the lead.It is actually a quite picturesque image when you find it in front of you.A very dangerous one as well,when it happens after a blind bend.Anyway as much unusual it is ,to see someone taking his dog for a walk on the lead while riding his horse ,it is not the life changing encounter I did today.Neither was the group of amateurs cyclists I nearly stroked down like ninepins.Just a little diversion from my story to say how much I hate cyclists on the road. Not all cyclists.I am a cyclist too but I use a cycling path and I am cyclist for fun,I don’t race in group of 4/5 side by side in a countryside narrow and bumpy road keeping the cars behind or forcing them to overtake totally unsafely.I don’t even wear those professional tight outfit who lives nothing to imagination.It is ok if you are fit like a professional cyclist but not really when you are sweating more because of the full fried Irish breakfast you ate in the morning then for the fatigue.My husband always says that if he will ever be called following my involvement in a road accident with some cyclist ,he will make sure to get to the scene with a good lawyer already. Probably it was not an accident at all.Now ,back to my story,once I overtake the man with the horse and the dog and once I overtake the group of cyclists swearing and using the best repertoire of my potty mouth,then it is the moment I see it.Coming toward me……….a vintage stunning sidecar.Beautiful,classy and it strikes me:that is my retirement plan!Making a step back I must say that my other half always had motorcycles since he was 14.I soon started to enjoy the role of the passenger.Years and years of fun in the back of my hairy biker.Because once a biker always a biker ,he still have a motorbike.The current motorbike is not as powerful as the one we used to have but, I am afraid,not even our capacity of healing broken bones is as powerful as 15 years go.It might not be the fastest bike but it serves the purpose of avoiding traffic and bringing his dame for a comfortable ride I don’t go on the bike that often anymore but when I do I am always enchanted by the feeling of freedom.I love the speed(if only a bit more) and I love the intimacy,the complicity between driver and passenger.May be because it reminds of a youth of rides around Italy.In particular there was a lake we used to go summer time .It took around 2 hours to get there through a lovely mountain road .We usually got there ,have a swim,dry up,go for lunch and back home in the evening.Beautiful memories.Now ,when we are kids free,we go to Dun Laoghaire,stretch our legs ,straight our backs,have fish and chips and go home.Things change.We had a fast crazy yesterday,we have an enjoyable today but what is gonna be tomorrow?I am thinking ahead.Will we still be able to enjoy the motorbike in our 60s/70s?May be,or may be not ; or may be it will be more a sufferance for our joints and necks then a joy.Will we just renounce to feel the freedom of seeing the world around us without being trapped behind a car’s window?No,No,No.Sidecar,perfect solution.When it passed me I just looked at it with a big smile on my face.I thought about it all day.I had a marvellous daydream about travelling in the sidecar around Ireland,south of France and why not Isle of Man.We have friends there and it seems the perfect place to travel on board of a side car.Going first along the coast for then continue our ride through the green countryside roads ornate by lines of poppies .Stopping for the night in some folklorist pub with accommodations.Our bedroom window overlooking the back yard .Violets,geraniums and hydrangeas colouring the view.Basket of yellow and purple pansies hanging above our heads while we enjoy a pint of cider waiting for the pink sunset.Who wants to go back to normal life now!From half afternoon the travelling husband is working from home as he is leaving early tomorrow morning.He is done with the conference calls and I take the opportunity to enquire about a possible purchase of a side car enthusiastically enlightening him about how it could be the perfect companion for our elderly days.Did I ever mention that the travelling husband has a degree in mathematics and statistic? No,don’t get me wrong,I don’t want to show off,but I think it is a piece of necessary information to understand that he only gives straight pragmatic answers.Also,did I ever mention his wife have a degree in Philosophy?No, again, I am not showing off,it is just an other necessary piece of information to understand she mainly ask questions that are the irrational fruit of her mind’s rumination.That said, his answer for tonight was”No.”That’s it,full stop!I can be stubborn.I go on and try to explain that it would be perfect for us and I could drive it too.I could have a ride with the dogs sometime…..wouldn’t be awesome.I am talking to him,but I am also back to my day dream and I’m imagining myself driving the sidecar with my dogs beside me.I know: unreal ,idiotic even a bit populistic but funny and entertaining.After all,what is the harm on having a bit of fun with your imagination?Unfortunately,square minds have not much imagination.I am annoyed.I leave the room and go in the kitchen.Few minutes after,he follows.Shy attempt to see if I am just a bit annoyed,very annoyed or cross.Neither of them,really.But I won’t give in.He sits on one of the kitchen stool and go: “when we ‘ll be retired,hopefully the girls we’ll be on their own for a while.We will buy a convertible little spider car.We will be sitting comfortably,we will still see the landscape open air and we will also have two little sits in the back for the dogs.What about that.Screw the sidecar”.Damn!Square minds might not have imagination but they are good on planning and they are usually right.

The killer fish…….to be continued

Just a brief update :Ozzy and Smarthy died this morning.

I am deeply demotivated and totally running out of hope that I will ever again been able to keep any sort of marine creatures alive.This time I am not going to transform myself in Mrs Wolfe and scrub to exhaustion the tank.I am just going to dispose of it.No more fishes,for a while.I can’t fight the dark forces conjuring against my aquarium survival.Also I can’t fight my husband who had forbidden me from spending any other money on anything aquatic,for the time being.Well ,he actually said”forever”,but he might change his mind when I will start spending in shoes instead.I mean,what else do I have left?!?!

So,to all those friends who followed my fishes adventures and misadventure with compassion and have been sympathetic through the whole ordeal,I say : “don’t desperate,the killer fish saga is to be continued,but not any time soon……I think.

The killer fish legacy:the first casualty

Here I am talking about my fishes again.

The girls just ran into the kitchen looking for the little fish net.Not a good sign.LuLu died.Noooooooooooooo😩again.First casualty of the new generationThis death came totally out of the blu.I swear, up to yesterday, there was no sign of distress or illness inside that tank.It is true LuLu was considerably smaller then the other two and she kept for herself but not to a worrying level.The three of them were quite active and seems to get on well together.Was she bullied? Did she fall sick? Smarty is indeed a big fish and both late LuLu and Ozzy ,were not a match for him.This concerned me since the beginning,considering our history but, honestly,after seeing how they were coping,I had no reason to think that something could happen.May be Smarty is a bully or may be Smarty and Ozzy together are misogynistic and simply cut out ,literally,LuLu from their little club.How brilliant: I went from a sociopath bully killer fish to two chauvinist killer fishes.Actually,now it looks like Smarty and Ozzie are suffering as well,may be this time ,once again ,is something viral rather then a disturbing defect in my fishes personality.Wow, I am nearly relieved but,if there is some form of contamination in the tank,again,that means the tank must be replaced too.Someone who read the previous post,flatteringly compare me to Mr.Wolf(from Pulp Fiction)after all the cleaning and scrubbing and the disposing I did.When I finished the tank was basically sterilised,every ornament thrown away in the assumption they could be a source of infection:What now then?The only explanation is the filter container.Replace the filter was not enough,the container has to be disposed of too.I am not going to do anything until I find an other casualty.I am afraid it won’t be a long wait.When it will happen I must be ready.I must have already thought at a solution.I need a plan.May be, I just need to give up the idea of keeping an aquarium in the house.May be,me and my girls should turn our interest to some other little pet.Not that we haven’t gone through few options already before getting the fishes.Not that easy.Our choices are very limited.Having two hunting dogs in the house,we had to exclude rabbits,for obvious reasons.We had to exclude hamsters too,for the same obvious reasons.We might try with a cat .Cat it would perfectly fit the purpose but it must be a kitten.Not because I am one of those person who only wants cute little puppies but because few years ago we already tried to bring home an adult cat.I rescued it from the road as it started to follow me and even got into the car spontaneously.The girls were small and overly excited.Well not that it was the first time we had rescued animals .That is why I specified the cat got into the car “spontaneously “.Just in case my husband might read the post.He is convinced that I kind of snatch dogs and cats and various species of living creatures,from their garden.It is indeed a matter of fact that,to him, it never happens to find a lost animal.Only because he never stops when he sees a wonder cat or dog.I might be a bit impulsive,I admit it,and once I spent an entire afternoon with a magnificent golden Labrador in my back sits trying to find the owners only to discover it was the local pub guy’s dog,who didn’t even realised the dog went missing.He just thought it was wondering around the village as it usually does.That was a happy ending story but what if the dog was lost for real?I say thank God I stopped.Last June I rescued a injured baby seagull that was trapped under a parked car.If you are wondering how did I spotted it,I can tell you from now that I don’t walk looking under cars for animal to rescue in the hope to keep them.Two summers ago we also rescued a bat.That was in our garden and that,I was really hoping to keep it .I love bats they are my favourite animals.There was an hole on one of the wings.We kept it for a while worm in a towel and then managed to make it fly again.So,now,back to rescued cat :once we brought it home ,my eldest dog didn’t react well.She went straight for it.The cat then started to run all over the house and scratching everything was in its way…..me included.Even if we bring home a kitten,there is still a little insignificant detail: my husband doesn’t like cats and my youngest dog likes to mess up with everything so the cat’s litter should be locked somewhere but, if it is locked somewhere,how the cat can use it?May be not even the cat is a good alternative to the fishes.I am afraid we ran out of pet categories here as also birds are not suitable for the same reason of the rabbit and the hamster.May be a monkey could do good.Not one of those little monkeys pirates usually have,those I don’t like them.I would like a chimpanzee.I like chimpanzees.I am not sure why ,but I don’t see this happening either.Better I keep an eye on Smarty and Ozzy and see what is next.

A long happy week

I woke up this morning,had breakfast and,as some of you already know,spilled my coffee all over me.In my defence this time there was a reason.I was reading and laughing my head off.I was just not being clumsy as my usual me.I am afraid last night I had a couple of glasses of whiskey too many as my stomach this morning is reminding me.Head,more or less is fine…….hard to say when it is more confused then usual.It is been a long week but not like a heavy long week.It has been long because out of the routine.Pleasantly out of routine.The travel husband(as I am calling him recently because of all the business travel he is doing)came home Wednesday night and took a day off on Thursday for our anniversary.My sweet grumpy bear!Considering that romanticism is not a word belonging to his vocabulary,it was an extraordinary gesture.Wednesday was slushing rain and so was Friday half day,but Thursday was an amazing day.Sunny and warm.The cosmic forces were totally on our favour…..a bit of a stretch??May be!!Anyway we didn’t have to collect the kids untill 3.30 so we took the full treat: breakfast out,walk on the beach with the dogs,lunch in town……When we go out it is usually evening time ,we don’t usually call the baby sitter during the day and my husband very rarely takes days off work, so it was strange being out in daylight just the two of us.It was nice.We didn’t do anything special but the whole day turned out perfectly special.The perfection of simplicity.The week was pleasantly long even because yesterday evening,an almost impossible thing happened: both the girls were invited to the same birthday party.That meant we had nearly two hours for ourself…again…and again no baby sitter to be paid.We went to the village next ours,and sat outside at one of the pub on the harbour:what a luxury!.I am always amazed by how lucky we are ,by how happy we can be ,simply being able to enjoy and appreciate the little things that life gives us.They might seems little ordinary things but in fact,they are big presents we are blessed with.We should be grateful and appreciate them fully,always.When I think at everything I have,emotionally and materialistically, I feel incommensurably rich and wonder in shame why so often I can’t just focus on this instead of ranting,complaining and feeling down.Human nature I am afraid.It has been a while now that,on the Fridays, I imposed the rule of no television,for the adults.If we are both at home,it is date night.We have dinner ,we chat ,we have a drink,(sometime far more then one),we reconnect.So we did yesterday.I think,because of all these happy happenings of the last couple of days I had the impression I already had my week end in a way and this morning when I got up I was nearly surprised(pleasantly surprised)to realise that I still have the whole week end ahead of me.Well,to tell the complete true I was also relieved,considering the sluggish feeling I woke up with.I felt all morning like the frog in the heartburn tablets advertising.May be that’ s why I decided to wear a long green skirt…..my subconscious leaded my fashion choice today…….the burping frog has been my personal shopper.The day is progressing slowly.The house is quiet,girls are busy art crafting,husband went out shooting ,dogs are sleeping and I had nothing plan for today anyway. I am more then happy to stay at home and go back to my writing.It is been few days I am not posting and also it has been few days I am not working on my story.Today it seems the right day to go back to both.

Broken clocks and decluttering

I had a singing birds wall clock in my kitchen,but it broke few months ago after years and years that it was keeping me company.It was part of the household and, thinking back,there are lots of memories connected to it.When the girls were small they used to come into the kitchen shortly before 7 and wait for the woodpecker to sing .That was the signal it was bed time.If I was lost in my thoughts and jobs the 2 o’clock bird’s chirping reminded me it was school pick up time.The six o’clock one reminded me to hurry up and start getting dinner ready.During the day hearing a chirping here and there it was comforting,familiar and kept me company .I loved my singing birds wall clock and I missed it desperately,the first few days.It already happened once that it stopped working but,it was only in need of new batteries.That time I was desperate to make it sing again.It was like the kitchen had no reason to exist without it.It was part of the house,of my family’s life.Being without the clock would have been like sacrifice a in entire section of my existence .This time is completely different.I am different!

The summer came and we were leaving so I decided to deal with the order of the new clock when back from holidays.We are all back for a while now and the clock has not been reordered yet.To be honest the wall clock is not among my priorities nowadays.May be the fact that Its space on the wall has been occupied by a picture I received for my birthday made me kind of forgetting about it.Not having in front of my eyes an empty space on the wall ,constantly reminding me of it,sure it helps dealing with its absence.The singing birds wall clock came up in a phone conversation with my mother .She has one too and it broke too.Apparently she can’t live without it.It is her company during the day.She feels lonely without it.I must specified that my mother retired two years ago but she is never home anyway.Lets say her local petrol station guy(she refuse to make petrol herself)didn’t notice any decrease in the amount of fuel she buys, even if she doesn’t drive for 50km every day anymore.It is a matter of fact that even our conversation are mainly done while she is driving and she has time to speak,(or she is bored…..who knows).Then she get to her destination and we are done🙄She asked me to order an other clock for herself and was horrified that I didn’t replace mine already.She was actually horrified by my laziness.She always complained about me being one of those person who constantly postpone to do the things they don’t care about.It is true but it also true that if it is not something important where is the urgency?.”The urgency is in having it done and out of your way so that it won’t bother you any longer.”,she would say.”But what if I am not bothered by it at all?”,I would replay.I didn’t really want to go down that road so I just took it and said nothing .Sometimes the best survival policy.Talking about the wall clock with her made me realised that the long work I have done on myself in the recent years left me with an incredible emotionally clean environment around me.I used to be obsessively attached to things.I had an extreme difficult to let go.I suppose in a way everything had an emotional link for me.For instance I was feeling guilty to give away clothes that were sitting in my wardrobe untouched for years just because they were a present from a specific person.Moving house was a torment because the house was the container of my life and memories:where could I possibly find an other one that good?!Then I moved for the first time and the second one and the third one……I am in the house number 7 at the moment,and realised that as much as I love it I would be ok to move again because home is were my family is,is not a building.As my dear friend Abigail once said, I am a “nester”, I can make my own nest everywhere,I just need the materials.Over the years I accumulated so many things that space became a problem.I was in constant need of storages because most of the objects were not even on display.I was not using them anymore.Let’s be honest,some of the stuff, I was so sick to see it around me that I couldn’t even bare the sight of it but, throwing it away,was not an option.Same with clothes:I had jumpers and dresses that I didn’t wear for years and probably didn’t even fit anymore but they were in perfect condition.What a waist to give them away!!!.(I will never stop wondering why the wrong washing machine cycle or that unbeatable oil stain always victimise your favourite outfit and never the unwanted,unworn ones!!!).In most of the cases all these objects were hiding memories or they were a present from someone close to me.The guilt prevented me from getting rid of them.Weather they were clothes or paraphernalia :throwing them away was like wrong doing the person who gave them to me or erasing the memories they were connected to.Insane,I know.But it was all I knew,and guilt has always been a persistent feeling in my life,but this a subject for an other post.Slowly I learned to let go,things emotions,sense of guilt…………First I start to clean my head and then I went through my house.Now it is hard to detect witch big clean comes first but the two of them combined worked,and still do,very well and both my head and my house get the benefits.No more cluttering.If it is not used,if it is stored away then I don’t need it and probably I won’t use it never again.The first baby gown my daughters had on,that is enough to keep as a memory.I don’t need bags of old clothes to remind me they were once my babies.An old tin of biscuits given to me by an old friend is enough,I don’t have to keep all the cute tins arrive into my house.Most important ,my husband won’t get offended if I throw away a worn out jumper he gave me over 20 years ago.It is not that I don’t care anymore .It is not that I don’t appreciate his presents.It is simply a jumper I don’t use anymore and only take space in my wardrobe.Those fantastic silk shirt my mom gave me and that never really fitted me,has no reason to stay in my drawer,someone out there can wear it!I still love ornaments in the house and I have plenty but they are there because I like them,because I choose them,because they reflects my personality and my taste not my sense of obligation,duty,guilt.So,back to the singing birds wall clock now,I am still without it and I am ok.I loved it,I might buy an other one but for the moment I am fine even without it.I don’t have to have it just because it has always been on my kitchen wall and I had a such wonderful time in its company.That time nobody will ever take it away from me.It is just a clock and if I get a new one it will only because I like it and want it not because there is a emotional bundle that traps me in.I don’t need to fill any empty space,neither physically nor emotionally with it.Your house is the mirror of your soul:true.In my day by day life I have always been very organised and methodical ,but only because I need structure to contrast the chaos I had inside.I need to control what I could.My house was the exact reflection of all this:tidy and organised but only because everything had a place.It had to.There was so much of everything that if not stored,it would have taken over.If my head was overcrowded with thoughts and feelings and emotions,my house was overcrowded with objects.All of it well concealed,but there,alienating me.Declutter it came a long painful way but,once I started ,I couldn’t stop.It started from an inside need and soon it came naturally to declutter my outside too.It actually became a necessity because ,the way it was before, it was not making any sense at all .Not anymore.Weather you declutter your house to declutter your head or vice versa ,your final destination will always be the same:Freedom.From what, it is only up to you!

Mama fairy lost her marbles.

Before moving in the new house I promised my daughters they would get a fairy door each .At the beginning the fairy doors where in their bedrooms but then they decided to build a fairy corner and moved them just outside their bedrooms,one beside the other.At the beginning they were just fairy doors ,more decorative then anything else and presumably there was a fairy out there somewhere .Soon they realised there were 2 fairies out there looking after them.Poppy and Elda.How did they know it?Simple,the fairies speaks to them!Well,more precisely the fairies write notes to them.Over the years the correspondence between the human world and the fairy one became quite active. Superfluous to say that the notes arrive only when nobody is watching as fairies are very jealous of their privacy.Elda and Poppy became my proud and joy and the girls faces when they come to show me the little notes priceless.It doesn’t come without effort and hard work:I have to be careful to always use paper that will never be recognised as mine;I need to modify my handwriting;I have to carefully dispose of all the notes left for the fairies and be careful not to let anyone see “mama fairy” leave the notes by the doors.I also have to be careful that the note won’t be eaten up by the dogs who both love chewing paper.As the time passes ,mama fairy sometimes is forgetful and doesn’t check daily the letter box so Poppy and Elda are not as pronto in responding as they used to be but ,still performing their duty more then efficiently .As the time passes even the girls might have lost some interest in their fairies as notes and request are less frequent.That,to be honest,is not a completely bad thing ,mainly on Fridays when sometimes it happens to mama fairy to indulge herself in a couple of G&T too many and she is not always completely straight to write fairly comprehensible notes and to give fairly appropriate answers to questions that ,intentionally or not ,became over time more challenging.I think what is happening is that my eldest daughter start to questioning the existence of her fairy but deep inside she doesn’t want to stop believing plus, if Poppy doesn’t exist, not even the tooth fairy exists and she is for sure not ready to loose the money that come with every lost tooth.Her questions are becoming more tricky but ,hey,behind every fairy there is a “mama fairy”and you don’t easily trick a mama fairy.Well ,you don’t easily trick any mama actually!On the other side my youngest daughter doesn’t doubt at all the existence of a parallel world populated by fairies,gnomes, unicorns and any type of fantastic creature but,she definitely misunderstood her fairy’s role and power.We came to a stage when she was asking her to find things for her in the bedroom or to tied up her bedroom with the touch of her magic wand.One morning Elda left an angry note where she reminded her that she was a guardian fairy not a maid,but she was also so kind to leave some magic fairy dust that ,as everybody knows,helps with everything!Just before summer my husband said our eldest daughter for sure doesn’t believe anymore and she just plays along to not hurt my feelings(in witch case I would be very touched and proud of her sensibility).He also said I should gradually let this fairy thing die as our younger daughter is becoming too old for it too. Totally outraged in my role of mama fairy,I just ignored him!And I did right,as proved one afternoon last summer.We were all at the beach and an old acquaintance of mine stopped by with her son .The kids started to play together and we started to chat .After a while we were talking I couldn’t stand the conversation anymore.It was all about what she had and what she bought and what she was going to buy for her perfect,athletic,very intelligent and talented kid who of course was wearing branded swimming suits matching his Tshirt and flip flop.And his flip flop of course matched his mother’s one!From where I was standing I could overhear the kids and,like mother like son,the little fella was all about the toys and the technological gadget he had.They came closer and without even apologising for interrupting an adults conversation,the little boy asked his mother for his phone .He wanted to show it to my girls and he was teasing them because they didn’t have their own mobile phone.”Of course they don’t have their own phone They are 8 and 10 ,what would they need it for??”,that’s was what I was thinking but for once I stopped my mouth in time.I managed not to snap:”but they have their own personal fairy,you know?!”,I said instead.There deal with that now!! He started to laugh and shouted fairies don’t exist and turned toward his mother looking for confirmation.She looked a me with a mixed expression,half sorry and half patronising like ,come on a fairies?In 2017 ?Really?Really!!!”Prove it or you are a liar”,he shouted at my daughters while the mother was completely oblivious to the all situation and obviously thought this kind of behaviour was acceptable.God bless my youngest daughter, whose tongue is sharply developed.She turned to him with a fearless and annoyed expression on her face and said:”they leave us notes and we keep them .When we go home we can take a picture and send it to you.To Your Phone! “.Her tone was bold and would have normally got her in trouble but ,not in that occasion!He was defeated.He started to cry that he wanted a fairy.The mother looked at me annoyed and tried to calm him down saying she would have got one for him and I could tell her where to find them.”Oh, I am sorry you don’t get your fairy,you must deserve her.”.Here,served,and,technically, I didn’t even snap because I used a very sweet maternal voice.The boy was upset and so was the mother. I shamefully admit I felt triumphant !In my defence I can say I hide it from the girls because I knew I should have know better but………it was one of those situation s with a big “but”😉.My husband that was reading his book during the whole time,or so it appeared, laughed out loud and after mother and son left ,he lifted his head and said:”I like it when “my mama fairy” looses it “.

Turning pages……literally.

Today is one of those grey day when the sky is full of rain.At some point this afternoon the rain has been unleashed and is pouring.I left home to run some errands and stop by at the local bookshop to get a new book.I have been reading on my kindle for all summer and now I need paper.I love my kindle and I find it very handy for traveling.I like browsing around in the kindle shop and discovering new authors.Being a voracious reader I love the kindle deals too,but, it is time to go old style.I feel an uncontrollable need of touching and smelling crispy paper,I want to turn pages.The gesture of turning pages fascinates me.Not only when I do it but I like to see other people doing it as well.There is something in this gesture that relaxes me.It gives me peace.Or,it is simply my fetichism.Whatever it is,I can honestly say it is a gesture that gives me pleasure.Books have always been my way to live a different life,my way to escape.Sometime I find myself wondering what the characters of the book I’m reading would do in my shoes.I tend to bring the characters of my books in my life.I like to pretend,to imagine I am them ,while I get on with my daily routine. Turning the pages of my book is part of my escape;it is actually the instrument of my escape but it also my accomplice and the way to transform myself.Does it sound extreme? May be! But don’t we all have a gesture that we like to do or that simply reminds us of something?

When I turn the page of a book I see myself from outside.When I turn the page of a book I see myself in the present reading :I see a very peaceful me.When I turn the page of a book I see myself in the past,studying compulsively,scribbling on my school books.I can smell my parents house ,my old bedroom where I used to get lost in classic novel and dreaming of my future life.When I turn the page of a book I see myself not long ago reading for my daughters when they were small.I can smell the unmistakable baby smell in their heads that I always kissed after they fell asleep,and still do(but shhhh,don’t say it.They are too old for that).When I turn the page of a book I see my grand father at bed time reading for me .I can hear his warm soothing voice and smell his cologne.Turning the page of a book becomes my way to feel and smell those emotions that cannot be lived again but that will never leave me.