Thank you fellow bloggers, Facebook and Twitter friends for liking my blog. Today I will be talking about The Patter of Giant Feet, The Sounds of the Chianti Hills, The Hoopie, Jasmin & Wisteria and being famous in Certaldo.
Last Tuesday (Martedi) I was happily writing away when suddenly the house started to tremble, and the sound of giant footsteps thundered under my studio. It only lasted seconds, however, experiencing a mini earthquake is not a pleasant thing! In addition, the usually muted sounds of our part of the Chianti hills have exploded into a crescendo of traffic noise. These vehicles are following a diversion sign that takes them right past our villa along a dusty track, whilst the main road is cleared of a three week old landslide!
I am not complaining, it would take a lot to dent my complete happiness of living in this fabulous spot. The sounds that are a joy to hear are the squeeking of ancient tractors trundling up and down between the vines and the strimmers as they clear the mosquito (zanzara) infested long grass in the olive groves. Yes, the mozzies have arrived, I got my first bite last Tuesday! But we don’t care about that because it means that summer is almost here! (If you are coming to Tuscany make sure you have mozzi protection).
On Wednesday morning, I opened my bedroom window to see a pair of Hoopies in our upper terrace. They are very shy and very beautiful, it took my breath away. Now we await the arrival of the other stunning feathered friend, the Bee Eater. The sound of their singing is so lovely and relaxing.
The Hoopie
The Jasmin and Wisteria have burst into flower. Not only beautiful but filling the air with intoxicating perfumes. I have bought more plants today in Certaldo where a number of locals approached me and asked if I was the famous writer! Being modest, I said yes and gave out more cards for their English speaking friends. I must organize a translation of ‘My Father, The Assassin’ into Italiano.
Here is an exert from chapter 14, Joanna has been introduced to Abdul who has important information about her deceased father. It is the dead of night in her hotel room…..
……..Abdul shifted in his seat, quickly pulled out a rather grey handkerchief and wiped his brow. He had a small thin swarthy appearance with a rather oversized drooping moustache, which he constantly twirled around his fore finger. His hair was thinning and greying and I put him probably in his late fifties.
“When Major Worme first arrived on the scene,” he continued “I had no reason to suspect him of anything other than being an old friend from England. He was, however, an insatiable philanderer and I became very concerned that the Prince may be mixing with the wrong company. He, the Prince, had married one of the most desirable women in Malaysia and even she was not safe from Worme’s advances. The Prince refused to believe me when I warned him that this was the case and he threatened to have me flogged if I ever mentioned it again. The Prince was a fool and was completely mesmerized by the man.”
Here is the direct link for my novel ‘My Father, The Assassin’ by J W Finnigan. Enjoy and please spread the word!
Salute June x
Junefinnigan's Weblog 
Leave a Reply