Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Cottages, peonies and all the rest

.When I was 13, I would dream of becoming a great writer. Jane, Charlotte, Virginia, Edward (Forster) and the others had just begun keeping me company in the long, hot Italian summer days I spent far from the sea. I did not have many friends at the time, especially because of my bookworm attitude my unfriendly attitude my mom not allowing me to have yellow bangs or to wear lilac tiny tshirts. I did not mind, though.
.I would sit under the huge magnolia trees in my grandparents' garden, in Abano, on the Euganean Hills, and read . I remember my grandma (the grandma, the one I stole all my vintage-y stuff from, the super cool grandma, who in her days was, I suspect, a tough chic) trying to teach me how to sew or knit, and games of cards in the shade with my grandfather. I used to spend a huge amount of time at their place.
.My grandma would always make tea and bake cakes, even when the temperature would rise up to 30-35°C. She would give me freshly baked bread with butter and sugar on top, and ask me what I was reading. Then I usually started intricated explanations on who was doing what and why that was important, and talk for hours (like I still do), and she would listen, without asking questions.
.Sometimes I still hope I'll become a great writer. Of course, that would mean someone should read the thousands of pages I wrote these past 10 years, and no one, no one is allowed to come close to me when I write. Perhaps making it strictly personal is not really bringing me closer to achieve fame... Though fame is not really the main aim. I only wish I could make people feel the way I feel when I read one of my favorite novels.
.When I was 13, I would dream of writing my masterpiece sitting in the garden of my Devonshire Cottage (step 1: get a Devonshire Cottage), swinging on my lawn swing, surrounded by lillacs, wisteria, roses and staring at the peonies growing near the cottage's porch (step 2: get a gardner). While drinking tea, for sure.
.Yeah well. All this just because in Paris peonies are in full bloom...

photos via weheartit


  1. Hello there!First of my compliments, these pics are amazing :)
    I love reading about you, 'cause you remind me of myself so much!
    I am Italian, just like you, and used to be (and still am) a shy, daydreaming, bookwarm who always dreamt of becoming a writer (or a princess) and running away from home.
    This last dream has come true :)

  2. Haha, the last part has come true for me too :D i never dared dreaming of the princess thing, tho; i am little self-confident even in my dreaming, it appears :D

    E' un piacere conoscerti!

  3. grazie per essere passata! se ti vaseguimi su blogger e farò loo stesso!

  4. Sei già così fortunata a vivere a Parigi, aver passato un infanzia fantastica con i tuoi nonniche vedrai anche il tuo sogno più grande potrà realizzarsi.
    Grazie per essere passata da me ti seguo! mi farebbe tanto piacere se volessi ricambiare.
    Un bacio

  5. stupende queste foto. Mi piace molto come scrivi. Ti seguo. piacere di conoscerti. Spero possiamo seguirci a vicenda. bacio

  6. LLN?

    comunque un cottage nel devonshire non mi sembra il posto ideale per scrivere un masterpiece