Such a relief to be out of the woods at last.
No, no, I don’t mean that the Euro crisis is over, or that
Italy is back on an even keel. On the contrary, Italy’s new Prime Minister is
going to have to live up to his name: Monti has some steep hills to climb.
What is finally over is the bad time for poor old
Janka, our black-haired, rasta-curled dog.
She and I have a ritual of slipping out at the end of each evening for the final walk of the day. It’s a precious time for us both. Conversation is, I will admit, limited but she trots along perfectly happily sniffing the curious smells she comes across, while I listen to an audio-book or a podcast on an i-phone. We may walk in silence, but it’s a companionable silence, which helps us drain the last of the day’s stress before settling for the night.
She and I have a ritual of slipping out at the end of each evening for the final walk of the day. It’s a precious time for us both. Conversation is, I will admit, limited but she trots along perfectly happily sniffing the curious smells she comes across, while I listen to an audio-book or a podcast on an i-phone. We may walk in silence, but it’s a companionable silence, which helps us drain the last of the day’s stress before settling for the night.
But between mid-October and mid-November all that gets seriously
subverted. It starts with Diwali, the Hindu Festival of Lights, enlivened with
its fireworks. It builds from there to Guy Fawkes Day, when we Brits lay on a
special feast for our young children, to celebrate the torturing to death of a
Catholic dissident four centuries ago – and we celebrate with fireworks. In
between, there’s Halloween which has nothing to do with fireworks but, hey, if
you’ve been letting them off for Diwali before and will be letting them off for
Guy Fawkes immediately after, you might as well keep letting them off for Halloween
too.
Since the people who set off fireworks seem to feel the need
to get some serious practising done in preparation for the major festivities,
no night goes past without bangs occurring somewhere.
And as a result, at home Janka cowers at our feet, while on the street
she turns and bolts for home, only restrained by her lead, by which she drags
me back towards the house.
This evening, however, we had our walk without incident. As we strolled home, I realised, with blessed relief, that we had emerged from our bad times for another twelve months.
This evening, however, we had our walk without incident. As we strolled home, I realised, with blessed relief, that we had emerged from our bad times for another twelve months.
 |
| Janka: able to relax again at last |
Janka has regained her composure. And we can enjoy our evening ritual again, in perfect contentment.
Next: how we got Italy back to stability and solved the Euro
crisis.
2 comments:
Oh, povera Janka.
My Hendrix understand very well Janka. The fireworks (and the thunders of a storm, too) are the "invisible terrible monster".
Only one thing can help:
< Eiercognac >, Cognac with eggs,
and it helps both, me and Hendrix :-)
Absolutely right - it's a remedy I often use. But only for myself, I'm afraid.
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