Thoughts
Yeah, it's a psychological sun alright. Bright and sparkly on a morning that's minus 16 degrees. It's white and shiny and crawls all over me, slides into me through my nose and mouth. It freezes inside like a sand-paper cake. And then gives me a cold, wet, grating kiss.
A little elf of an Italian man dressed in high, tanned leather boots and a woolen cap with ear flaps, drove us around in the bitter cold evening. His first story made me grin wide in my mind. There were two tales mixed into one - about cows that saved his life and bonded with him at a level so spiritual that it makes him cry even today. And almost cry he did.
I could almost feel the husband, very animal-loving and almost Italian in his romantic and forthright loquaciousness, being moved to tears himself. Oh! The cows, the bitter cold, Antonio shivering in the snow with the cows keeping him warm! *sniff*
Do I refuse to get moved by such things because it makes me look/feel gullible?
The new year celebrations procession in the evening was a let down in many ways. They didn't seem to have prepared at all - at least not like one would expect. I had imagined one of those lavish, crowded, bright sea of good-looking people in flashy costumes, expensive props, lights, music, the works. But this wasn't. I can't deny it was charming, though. One large golden Chinese dragon, a crumpled alien head made of aluminum foil with white streamers for snake-like arms, a gigantic air-filled dinosaur bouncing along on the shoulders of three huge men, streamers being shot into the freezing night, clowns (and some pretty women) on stilts, children throwing chocolates and little bead trinkets for the spectators.
All in all, a nice little impromptu procession - let's remove the 'Grand' from its name.
Yeah, it's a psychological sun alright. Bright and sparkly on a morning that's minus 16 degrees. It's white and shiny and crawls all over me, slides into me through my nose and mouth. It freezes inside like a sand-paper cake. And then gives me a cold, wet, grating kiss.
A little elf of an Italian man dressed in high, tanned leather boots and a woolen cap with ear flaps, drove us around in the bitter cold evening. His first story made me grin wide in my mind. There were two tales mixed into one - about cows that saved his life and bonded with him at a level so spiritual that it makes him cry even today. And almost cry he did.
I could almost feel the husband, very animal-loving and almost Italian in his romantic and forthright loquaciousness, being moved to tears himself. Oh! The cows, the bitter cold, Antonio shivering in the snow with the cows keeping him warm! *sniff*
Do I refuse to get moved by such things because it makes me look/feel gullible?
The new year celebrations procession in the evening was a let down in many ways. They didn't seem to have prepared at all - at least not like one would expect. I had imagined one of those lavish, crowded, bright sea of good-looking people in flashy costumes, expensive props, lights, music, the works. But this wasn't. I can't deny it was charming, though. One large golden Chinese dragon, a crumpled alien head made of aluminum foil with white streamers for snake-like arms, a gigantic air-filled dinosaur bouncing along on the shoulders of three huge men, streamers being shot into the freezing night, clowns (and some pretty women) on stilts, children throwing chocolates and little bead trinkets for the spectators.
All in all, a nice little impromptu procession - let's remove the 'Grand' from its name.
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