First full night sleep in 4 days.I woke up rested and in good mood.It is still only me and the girls.The traveling husband is not due home until tomorrow evening.He will land tomorrow morning but he will go straight to the office.

The morning is sunny and bright,such a change compare to the stormy weather we had yesterday and Friday.We have nothing planned except hockey practice that ,in any case,it wont start untill 12.30.The morning is still all ahead of me and I definitely take my time.I had breakfast browsing around the web for the latest news.I take care of the laundry:once is done is done and out of my way.I speak on the phone with my mother who, on the contrary of me,has a very busy day waiting for her.The phone call is short and we agree she would skype us this evening. .While A is at hockey practice,myself and CG bring the dogs for a walk at the beach.For a Sunday morning it is particularly quite;may be it is the time,i don’t know but, i am glad it is.Nobody and nothing to worry about if the dogs are off the leads.

It is a typical autumn day.The sun is warm but the air is “crispy”.I know “crispy” is not a adjective to be used for the weather and, most of my friends laugh at me when i say it but, i like it because it describes exactly what i mean in my mind.If I close my eyes and listen at the air in this particular time of he year,i can clearly hear the “crick crack” of the first chill of the season.A “crispy”chill like when you wrinkle a sheet of paper with your hands.The heat of the sun and the slightly chill of the breeze caressing my face is a sensation that only Fall would make me feel.I don’t need to see the red and the yellow on the trees to know is Autumn.I feel it on my skin;I ear it with my ears;I smell it in my nose.The unmistakable odour of turf comes out from the chimneys and meet my nostril where,it mixes with the scent of moss,chestnuts and winter berry.

We are back home .Before we left i cooked a beef roll with roast potatoes for lunch.IT is strange to have sunday lunch just the tree of us at the table.The sun is aggressively bright and like a bully tries to slap our faces through the kitchen windows .We must roll down the curtains,other option is wearing sunglasses and, that, it would look a bit idiotic.After lunch the girls go outside to play and I have all the intentions to write.I end up to be entangled in a inconclusive Sunday afternoon instead.A Sunday spent wondering around with my mind and my body.It is only after giving the girls their dinner that i eventually lock my self in the study and start writing.I wipe off the draft of my story and start all over again with a new plot.I decided to impose myself a session goal in terms of words and,may be, in a year or two my novel will see its end.

It is now bed time for me too. I accomplished my goal of the day ,i can go to bed.I always read something before going to sleep.The book I am currently reading is not exactly a page turner and definitely doesn’t suit the mood and tiredness of tonight. I go for an italian magazine that my mom left behind after her last visit.I am not a big magazines reader.I greedily read them while waiting at the doctor or at the hairdresser but i don’t really buy them unless I see on the front page some specific article that interests me.I am more of a book person.

I am absently going through the magazine’s pages and my attention falls on an interview with a supposedly famous medium and clairvoyant.I have never been to a fortune teller but in complete honesty I thought about it.Just out of curiosity but,in the end, i never went and now i wonder why.Did i never go because I am too skeptical and rational?or did I never go because ,even if i don’t believe it,I am afraid of what I could be told?It is like when reading the horoscope,we consider it nonsense when it says something we don’t like but when it says something positive we secretly believe in it or, at least, hope it is right.In a simple sentence “it is not true but i believe it”.When i was in my early twenties I read 2 books from,at the time, very famous spiritualist . I always believed in energies (most commonly called poltergeist)as they can have a very simple and scientifical explanation but afterlife and talking with the deads and spirits who guides you is more hard to take in.At the same time,I am also deeply fascinated from all of this.After all ,if a supreme mind like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle believed in it to the point to found a spiritualist society may be there is something true.As we all know, something true is in every urban myth,in every legend,in every cult..How much is true and how much is fabricated unfortunately is hard to say.They all start from a true base and then they develop their own sequel.I suppose you either believe or you don’t.When I read those books i was very young and never experienced the loss of a loved one. The world was for me black or white.Now, over twenty years later,I realised there is a lot of grey in the world.I went through very painful and very happy experiences.I went through losses that made realized that is human nature to look for comfort.In front of grief most of us don’t look for rationality they look for the hope of a temporary goodbye.I learned that the cope mechanisms people set in place are the most variegate.I don’t feel to exclude anything.With certainty I can only say what I believe or I don’t believe right now in this very same moment.Tomorrow everything could change.I am nobody to judge what other people believe or don’t. I condemn the charlatans who take advantage of those souls that,are weak by nature or by circumstances. On the other side I can’t condemn or judge those ones who seek help to cope with their grief or those one who genuine seek to help.We all need a way to cope and it doesn’t have to be the same for everybody but sure it is the same respect that is deserved.