Bearded Dragons Loud Music

intervention sad for a happy event did not ... and a plum and peaches with rice flour to console a bit '

Maybe we were hoping, maybe even we thought, maybe I have Lost ... but finally I found the strength and energy to update the blog in my spare (few) free time during the working day in Bodrum. Unfortunately, and I repeat, unfortunately, is not a happy one reason that prompts me to write, and what will be the leitmotif of my memory. I can not, although I would speak of what happens to me here, meaning that this experience has for me, in spite of everything, despite the inevitable bad days, decrease in mood, daily hassles and annoyances, which can not be happy to be here. Maybe I'll talk later, maybe when I come back, maybe in that fortnight latency between 15 and 30 September in which it probably will be less overworked. The spring that brings me to write an event is anything but happy: Carlotta died last Wednesday, my cagnolona white, which I left in good and very good health and that until Monday, August 10 I knew was still in very good health . Tuesday my mother informed me that the day would bring Charlie to the vet ... My first thought was that it was for a routine check, a call for a vaccine, a problem of dysentery. Whatever, whatever, but it was repaired and not serious.
The next day my mother told me that Charles was serious. That some day is now not eating and vomiting, and che il veterinario le aveva individuato una disfunzione ai reni... non ho capito se c'entrava anche in minima parte la Leishmaniosi o se è stata un'ipotesi valutata a poi scartata. Ma non mi importa in realtà cosa realmente fosse, non è importante quale ipotesi sia stata quella giusta... non ora comunque, perché Carlotta è morta. O per usare un vile eufemismo, se n'è andata, senza che avessi il tempo di accorgermene, senza che potessi essere là per salutarla... ... ...

Che avrebbe cambiato?, direte voi. Lei sarebbe morta comunque. Magari nemmeno si ricordava me. Probably did not take in mind all the times that I yelled at all the times I accused of being a "dumb dog" whenever I really do not suffer, as support animal intelligence, the ability of non-human affection, emotions, memories, a dog does not have the same capacity memory nor reflective of a human being. So my remorse, my rethink everything I could do to send my love, are ill placed and useless.
However, it is heartbreaking to think that in October I come home and there she will celebrate with a chorus of barks and howls. Howls annoying, insistent, insopportabili... ma pur sempre suoi, pur sempre di lei vivente.

E' impressionante come un animale di una specie diversa dalla nostra sia riuscito a diventare così profondamente parte della famiglia, del gruppo, del branco. Sento la sua perdita come quella di un familiare, o di un amico, o di un parente, e non me ne stupisco, perché mi sembra normale soffrire per qualcuno con cui si sono condivisi tanti anni.

Carlotta ha vissuto dal 2000 al 2010... è arrivata, piccola e col testone, che avevo 14 anni e se n'è andata nell'estate dei miei 24 anni. Mi ha vista crescere, da adolescente acerba farmi ragazza e poi donna, saw the end of my schooling, I have known one of the most important periods of development. I do not think that accompany even further, I do not see career woman
(or woman self that is maintained), it seems unreal and science fiction. It will be a trauma to go home, and it will also and above all for that.
This post is intended as a farewell hymn to Charlotte, my white dog spoiled, childish and annoying at times overbearing at times but tremendously tender.
her who saw me blossom, she who was always there to bark with his high-pitched voice, he wanted to be always on top, always in sight of her who was raised by two of our cats but could not not to be jealous of the cats and the fact that they could sleep on the couch and not you, that when she went on holiday my simulated on a hunger strike and then steal secretly (or blatantly) from the bowl of cat food; its endless barking that meant that nobody in the neighborhood never felt alone, his brown eyes as a young girl, her thick coat of white traces left on the floor in 12 months a year ... will be strange not having to wipe or clean with more the vacuum cleaner.
As I do not believe in life after death for humans, I can not even believe in an afterlife for non human, but engraved in our hearts and in our minds is his memory, as well as the sweet thought that you re-insert, buried underground, in the life cycle, food chain of the Mediterranean (sounds strange ... but maybe the thought of the life cycle that always returns even if living in different forms for me is immensely sweet and comforting). You can not console the death of others but the one who remains alive and in need of hope and consolation.
And this form do one last, painful, greeting, to Charlotte, which will always be for me my brown-eyed white kitten and desserts.
Farewell my Charlotte. And thanks for everything .

Dimmi, o luna: a che vale

Al pastor la sua vita,

La vostra vita a voi? dimmi: ove tende

Questo vagar mio breve,

Il tuo corso immortale?

Giacomo Leopardi: "I Canti"

Although he may seem inappropriate, even if perhaps in a wrong context, I leave and I still leave you with a recipe, which softens albeit slightly (because the sadness is too bitter) my farewell. I know that in Italy the climate is not very summery ... but still, I think, still the period of peaches and plum that I want to offer it falls like a glove. If I could have access to the kitchens to prepare for it a bit distracted 'by this weight I feel in my chest and to enjoy a moment of sweetness. It 's a recipe I created last summer and that the public is only now being reached again in season: inspired Plumcake with rice flour and cherries of Anicestellato, has become reality in quite another, as often happens many delights born from the lack of ingredients and the need to replace them because of the incredible and relentless desire to cook: Having come to miss the rice flour (to which I added cornstarch and potato starch which have helped to give the cake a sofficiosità tremendously lustful, sometimes even too much) and cherries, which I replaced with peaches, always abounding in the summer.

Hoping to please, I put the recipe in Annex ... it subsides, without forgetting the tragedy of the main news.

Plumcake the three soft flour with peaches

Ingredients

• 100 g of rice flour
• 40 g of potato starch
• 70 g cornstarch 90 g
• oil semi
• 100 g brown sugar 2 eggs
• 2 peaches
• brown sugar to sprinkle the mold
• a sachet of baking powder

Procedure: Work oil with sugar until a creamy froth. Add eggs and mix well. I use the whisk for convenience and speed, but of course you can do everything by hand, using the strength of your arms.

Once the dough well mixed, add the flour sifted with baking powder and then peeled and chopped peaches before.

Mix well, then spoon the mixture into a greased loaf pan and sprinkle with brown sugar, maneuver che contribuirà a dare al dolce una deliziosa crosticina brunita. Cuocete in forno preriscaldato a 180° C per 30-35 minuti (vale sempre e comunque, come ormai è noto, la prova stecchino). 

Lasciate raffreddare prima di sformare e gustare .

E con questa ultima consolazione, con questo dolce saluto, vi mando un forte (e per me consolante abbraccio) dalle coste turche. Sperando di riaggiornarci presto

Giulia

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