So after a journey of 1,500 kilometres, this is what the first week of my holiday in Italy has delivered to me:
On arrival at our lakeside chalet, we laughed when we saw that a tree had fallen in our garden.
God made the tree fall that way, otherwise our chalet would be a pile of timber.
I've discovered that it's too hot to drink whisky. I've consumed little beer but have turned my attention to the local white wine.
The poodle has hurt one of his front paws. The bichon is having one hell of a time.
This year I'm eating more fish and less pizza, which pleases my wife.
Yesterday, in the lake, my other half played with my cock and balls. If a local fisherman hadn't arrived, I believe that we would have repeated our swimming pool experience which unfolded under the Normandy sun, at the end of last month.
There are less flies this year.
Tonight I think it will be pizza for dinner.
Until next time...