The last of the swallows left yesterday morning - a small flock. We watched them slowly circling the house,almost as if saying goodbye,before heading off on their long flight down the peninsula to Sicily and then the crossing of the Straits of Messina. I'll miss their cheeky chirruping and their graceful,carefree,morning aerobatics as they come swooping over the swimming pool to snatch a beak full of water. It seems to me that swallows, alone amongst the bird kingdom (with the possible exception of robins),somehow recognize the people they share their home with. The cicadas restless summer long song has also suddenly stopped - another sure sign that the heating system will soon need to be serviced and the gas tank topped up.
The closer we get to moving day the more frenetic life becomes. Italy is the land of pointless bureaucracy and the 'font' has been rushing around trying to obtain all the documentation needed for the sale - certificates that the drainage system has been approved, that the walls are earthquake hardened, that the water doesn't contain lead or mercury etc etc. A more thankless task it would be difficult to imagine . As a result the 'fonts' vocabulary is growing by the minute and now encompasses the Italian for gutter, downpipe, flange and monkey wrench.This will be useful if ever we wish to return and open up a hardware store.
With the move getting ever closer, the boyz and I have been throwing out 'stuff'. It's a wonder how much useless junk one manages to collect on the journey through life .I though we'd massively downsized after leaving Scotland, but no, the 'stuff' just keeps on coming back and growing.Wilf and Digby's part in the clearing out has been snuggling down next to me while I fill up rubbish bags and then leaping up with carefree abandon everytime I go to put them in the back of the car. A journey to the waste dump with the rubbish is the perfect canine day out.