I packed a light tote for Mr.E and myself, and we made for the country. As in Tuscany, where "pastoral" is as pretty as it gets.
Right now, as I finish posting this, friends are setting the table for dinner. The barbecue is on...
Rebecca is toasting bread for bruschetta (pronounced with a K)
The menu this evening will be: rosticciana - which is a lovely Tuscan word for 'pork spare ribs' - herb-rubbed chicken skewers, garden salad and homemade gelato.
I can't get enough of these scallions and vine-ripened tomatoes picked warm this morning in the vegetable garden.
So I halved and scooped-out some Roma tomatoes, and stuffed them with a little crushed tuna; the chopped pulp; and some diced celery, which I tossed with mayonnaise, before divvying up the mixture back in the tomato halves for our antipasto.
The air smells like burning firewood.
The swallows dance vast circles above our heads, and our swimming costumes are still dripping pool water, over there on the west-facing hedge.
Mr.E is in seventh heaven. He spends most of his time playing in the garden, digging up dirt, or climbing trees and plucking the juicy pears.
Look at that sunset...
...and the olive trees beneath the forest...
And what about this view of the main entrance?
Isn't it lovely?
Ducks paddling in their little spa pond...
...Geraniums sheltered by the shade of a cherry tree...
...and beauty as far as the eye can see...
Speaking of tomatoes, tomorrow my friends Selena, Rebecca, Lorenzo, with Mr.E and I (and the supervision of my mother) will begin the summer's production by cooking the first 5 gallons of Pommarola tomato preserves.
The following day, it will be fig marmalade. Depending on the yield, perhaps plum jam too.
Aperitivo is ready, I'm being summoned outside.
I have to go now...
...and I need to slip on a jumper, because it's getting chilly...
