A wintertime to be written about. And we shall write about it here, too. But most of all the Quarantozzis are going to live it, mainly, amidst streets and paths of the village, turning from red, to yellow, to orange.
The only kinetic certainty is the dog: Miozzi wants to go out every day. There are also cinephile certainties, or much less, of evening seclusions “watching stuff”. Also on its way a TV series on a Franconian brewer struggling against a chess grandmaster Bavarian orphan, in an automatic forced plots generator, to meet the pandemic demands.
The Quarantozzis are getting ready to face the cold, in an unorthodox December.
Hoping in vaccines, the brand and model we’re going to get will be subject to new debates.
But the new year doesn’t want to be obsessed by the virus; I wonder what it wants.
Make the most of what it’s learned? But what has it learned, besides baking your own bread?
Can we tell?
Let’s think about it. Maybe we’ll be able to understand a bit more in the Spring.
Waiting for Springtime, the Quarantozzis, and not just them, so if you have photos and short thoughts from similar places too, and you want to send them, we’ll be glad to add them.
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