No sunlight today

Almost on a daily basis, I check out a blog by an English lady who lives in the Piemonte region of Italy. How precisely I found Louise is a memory lost to the split second of a mouse click much like so many other fleeting introductions I've made in this screen-linked life. However, unlike many other forgettable pleased to meet yous, her words and descriptions of Italian living made an impression on me and that, is why I regularly visit her in the virtual manifestation of the home she calls an 'ancient pile of granite overlooking Lago Maggiore'.

Charmingly, she always begins her posts with an update of the day's weather and more than anything else with which she regales her readers of her day to day, this meteorological knowing of her particular geography, places me instantaneously within the same space that affords her a View from Carmine Superiore.

So today, when the weather here in Houston is of the kind that induces a dismal sort of melancholy, I wonder if my telling you that at 7:45 am we are at 58 degrees, that if my saying that it is raining, and that the formerly sunlit dappled leaves of my garden now look miserably soggy in this drizzly rain I wonder, whether this description works for you the kind of location Shazzam that Louise's forecasts do for me. No? I sorta guessed this would be the case. After all, rainy days in Texas cannot possibly hold the imagery-laden romance that a deluge in Carmine would. This is an inevitable truth.

Anyway, moving on, I had a simply miserable night. My little boy is not feeling well and stuffed up noses do not make for his restful sleep. The state of my early morning zombie-ness has everything to do with lack of sleep. The day feels burdensome already for that very reason.

Ever since I was a child, the color of the sky and the ability to experience sunlight has influenced my moods. I've always understood how people living in the sun deprived winters of northern countries could become depressed from having to chip away at their memory stash of a patch of blue sky or the warmth of a golden sun.

I remember reading a story in National Geographic once that showed a group of little Russian children who looked as white as sheet. They were sitting in some sort of yurt, naked but for their underwear in front a large blue lit lamp. This was their sun, their vitamin D happiness, their doomed-to-fail attempt at a tan, their heat and their health all rolled into one. I felt so sad for them just looking at those pictures. I wondered what would have happened to me had I been born to a mother in some light-forsaken country, having to dig up my daily dose of cheer from within the spectral blue of an electric lamp. I'd surely be miserable. As miserable as, for all the obvious and some not so obvious reasons, I feel this morning.

Do me a favor and wish me a nap and some rest. Wish my son's stuffy nose to clear up and his crankiness to morph into his more usually sunny disposition. I cannot muster much enthusiasm to do this for myself this gray morning, and I can only hope that tomorrow will not dawn like my today.

4:30 pm
Update: I'm having a little glass of port and I'm on my second Newman's Own chocolate cream cookie. The sun has rallied forth in full blown glory and now my son and I are out in the yard enjoying a lazy afternoon. Things are looking up. I never doubted they would.


  1. Milena, I'm so honoured that you mention my blog here. Thank you for such kind words. And actually your 58 degrees and raining is a revelation for me - I always see in my mind's eye a Houston that is hot and dry, with sunshine glinting off skyscrapers and people walking around in very, very dark sunglasses. I'm sorry you're feeling miserable. Think of it as a necessary counterpoint to your happiness and you might not feel so bad! L

  2. Louise! You must have at least watched one Dallas episode to account for this mental image of Houston. Only the downtown area has those skyscrapers you are thinking of and even then, by comparison to skyscraper style cities like New York, we are a poor cousin. The dark sunglasses are a must however. Even on overcast days, the glare can blind. I had never been one to wear sunglasses until I came here. Even my son has a pair or two.
    The sun is just now beginning to peek in but the early morning was just as I described. Since then I have showered and put on my makeup and R has been feeling better so this is me telling you, that I am feeling perkier than before. I'm glad I could mention your blog. You've been on my blogroll for quite a while already. I'm sure others will enjoy discovering, as I do already, your little bit of Italy.

  3. rainy days are the best days for a nap! the best! may you be blessed with one today! :)

    sorry little one is under the weather... a bit of that going around. hang in there!

    sending some blue sky & happy hugs your way!

  4. Milena, I'm so glad that your day had a happy ending...indeed it really sounds like the perfect ending to the day.

    That said, being here in perpetually sunny S. Florida, I relish those rare days when it's blustery, cool, and cloudy...I'm torn between wanting to stay inside and read a book, or go for a walk by the sea.


  5. Well look at it this way you could be here on Baby Island where this morning we have a freakish dusting of SNOW!! It's currently 34 degrees.

    A week ago it was almost 70 outside and I was mowing my lawn thinking about a cold beer in the hot sun.


  6. M, I'm glad R is feeling better and your day brightened up! They had promised us sun today, but they apparently forgot to inform the sun until late afternoon... But the cherry blossoms in Kungsträdgården (in front of NK store) made my day =)

    Beautiful flower arrangement you made the other day, and I envy you those fresh green leaves you captured so masterfully... :)

    Strings... R must have had so much fun... and I can see you inwardly groaning... but I'm sure it's preferable to other activities ;)

  7. Glad to hear your day improved. I'm sure today's sun will heal you both :) Now, to go check out that blog...

  8. You know I've been struggling lately and the weather has played a huge part in the difficulty. And now that the sun has started to shine here my mind is a little lighter, a little more flippant and forgiving. So glad the sunshine found you and your R is better and you have cookies.

  9. Milena,
    if you were raised in some sun-deprived region of the world, you likely would have been one of the great philosophers - but of a radically different disposition: dour, introspective, visually unaware, and male. Wait. You're right. I can't imagine what you'd be like if you were raised in a sun-deprived region of the world.

  10. Greetings from the Northwest! :) I remember when we moved to the Seattle area and we had our first boy...they gave us Vitamin D drops for our baby...we are quite pale up here!

    Oh how I long to visit Italy and the beauty I have only imagined. One day!!

    I hope you enjoyed your glass of port and the little guy healed up quickly. It's never fun when they are sick.

  11. Hi M, stopped by today for my weekly does of Leaping Thought Wednesday! And in re-reading your post, I went to visit View from Carmine Superiore. How beautiful.

    See you in May.


  12. Carissa: Thank you. The weather was wonderful all weekend long after that but my son took a turn for the worse. We are on the mend now and the weather is still good. Hope it is the same for you and your dirt mountain so much the smaller by now.

    Suzanne: I know what you mean. Too much of a good thing makes us long for the alternative if only to help us appreciate what we've got more. The book and the walk sound great. Can't you do both at the same time? I would try it myself but I'm sure I'd drown.

    Also, sorry for yesterday and not posting. R. is much much better now. Croup and all that.

    How wonderful! So glad you'll be coming then. Have to show you my pretty dress for the party.

    Baby Island: As always, you help to put things into perspective. So sorry about the snow and how about exchanging my glass of port for a little of your beer. Sounds heavenly.

    Carin: I was imagining I was walking with you in Rosendal as I read your words about Kungsträdgården. M and I have been thinking seriously of making a trip out to Sweden sometime in November. What do you think?

    Your nephew is having fun. Too much of it in fact. I need an auntie break.

    HPKT: Do go. I think Louise's blog will appeal to you and thanks. I was glad too until the weekend rolled in. Could have used some of your mother's great sayings to cheer me up.

    Cce: It is always about the cookies isn't it? They fix things like no other remedy. But I don't know. I think I might like to try that perfect pie-crust of yours. Apples are my favorite sort of filling. Just letting you know.

    Ron: Why I do believe you got that one right. I would be a statistic tragedy had I been born in a land with no sun. Don't know about the philosopher bit but, if you say so, then I will just have to agree. Learning to accept compliments is my motto of the day. Rworld statements are the rule to be measured by after all.

    Oh Amy! trust you to remind me that I've got it good by comparison. I've heard about Seattle and its dreary, water-logged weather. Sunshine in a drop. I see. Sigh. Well, better a drop than nothing...


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