Notes from a (house) Hunter's Sketchbook

I spent hours in front of the computer this morning and a long conversation with an estate agent in San Godenzo.

It was dull and overcast, the clouds scraping at Mt Giove's skullcap (992m) of oak and chestnut forest.

Later I sallied forth (see extras).  First to Monteloro to do recycling. For some reason the only wheelie bin locked of the communal bins is the undifferentiated rubbish. So people just dump their undiff rubbish in the other bins.

Then I asked a woman with a dog that would not clear out of the way where I might find a man selling wood for a fire. Her directions were brilliant but the man was not there.

Then drove along tiny roads to St Brigida, Fornello, Doccia, and Galiga. I saw one 'For Sale' sign in two hours. I investigated but it was a come-on.

The farmer woman who directed me there was stripping the leaves from her cavallo nero that were now in flower. A last feed of the leaves or maybe of the flower stalks.

I am starting to have acute Tuscan farmhouse envy (ATFHE). So many beautiful places here. None for sale and we couldn't afford it anyway. But pleasant to look. And with none of the bitterness of locals forced out by metropolitan prices. I told the farmer woman our wallets were too small. 'Anche i miei, anche i miei', she replied. (So too it is for my children.)

I saw three hares today. In a vineyard - Antinori wines. A wood at Doccia. And on the home stretch - our local hare.

The light here today was milky. You have to strain everything through milk. The ghosty olive trees, the shifting ridgelines, the smoke from the spring olive prunnings.

A countryside so lived in - from the Etruscans onwards. Cultivated and cultivated. Fought over and fought over again. Lord and serf. City states. Romeos and Juliets. Sharecroppers and masters. Nazis and Liberation (Mt Giove was the refuge of the Florentine Resistance movement in the IIWW).

No wonder the people are furbetti - cunning. Never taking anything for granted.

But it can be a bit wearing.

And I'm burning through my extras.

So sad to hear about Westminster at the end of the day. Listening to Radio5 Live on the internet when I got home.

The hares having lived through it all. God bless 'em.