Dead-tired, but not done yet with all the house-chores, and oh why am I here blogging my way out of the cumbersome, back-ache-giving chores. It is at this wee hour where I can think out loud, scream my thoughts out and flood this blog with words.
It is this kind of a night when the scattered glitters at sky tell you tomorrow is going to be a hot and sunny day and you don't have any excuse not to do your laundry or water the plants in the garden and yeah, take care of your family. The kind of days which reminds you of snow flakes on the window sills, gush of cold winterly wind, sniffles, warm wooly over-all's and Italy.
Quadrilatero d’Oro or Brera,