This is me at age six. On the right, with the yellow jersey, my sister Cristina, left my sister Catherine.
I was a child happy and carefree, with no thought and with a great desire to play.
My parents had bought a house in the countryside and went there whenever it was possible every weekend during the holidays, in summer for long periods.
The house was located in the town of Mels, a fraction of Colloredo di Montalbano.
In this old postcard, you see the hill with the old tower and church. Our house consisted of two buildings: the far left of the picture and what is visible between the tower and the church, just below (you see only the roof). It was a nice place!
remember that we had the vineyards and the harvest in autumn did ... but then, not being able to make wine, the grapes we gave to the peasant Marcello, our neighbor, and he in return gave us the damigianelle when the wine was ready.
I remember the night we were still muddy from head to foot in fury to roll and glide down the hills and my cheeks were still red with excitement and fatigue.
I remember one year we had the Indian village in the house. The curtains were the sheaves that Marcello had built with the remains of corncobs. The interior was spacious and cable, perfect for our game! I remember that we had furnished these primordial tents, pots, blankets and pillows.
had many friends and Sunday we had big barbecues and all wore something, those who baked pasta, some pickled vegetables, some freshly baked pie!
What wonderful memories.
Then one night ......... it all ended suddenly!
was the evening of May 6, 1976!
Here's what remained of our house! Only a pile of rubble!
Sorry for the photo, but has seen a lot of this piece of printed paper!
That evening my childhood was a jolt, as strong as the tremor that shook Friuli. Life could be very difficult and very violent nature.
I had almost eight years and did not know the meaning of the word "earthquake"!
Yesterday afternoon I went to Mels.
I accompanied Martin to a birthday party Colloredo di Montalbano and John went back to the places of my childhood.
We climbed the hill where once there were the old church and the "Torate", the Torraccia, remnant of an ancient castle of 'XI century.
Both the tower and the church is completely destroyed by the quake have been rebuilt on trying to respect the old conformation.
On this hill I spent entire afternoons with my girlfriends and my sisters in search of treasure.
Someone had told us, can not remember who and I never knew if you would just kidding, that on the hill, digging a bit ', you could find the jewels belonged to the princess of the castle. I would have settled for much less, actually. I would be happy if only the finding of a pitcher, a cup, a chipped plate, anything that had belonged to the noble Liabordo, Lord of Waldsee, who founded the castle in 1025.
When we find a shard, a piece of glass or stone worn by time of oddly shaped, even if it was written on "Made in China" or "Tassoni" emotion was fantastic!
When I was a kid you could not climb the tower. There were no stairs. One could only watch entare and a rectangle of sky up there, interrupted only by the branches of a tree that had the strength and courage to grow on the stones of the medieval tower.
But now there is a robust, to be honest, horrible metal ladder but allows you to climb to the top and enjoy the view of the countryside and mountains.
Yonder Buja and most of the country behind the mountains, with snow-covered peaks. Too bad that yesterday was not a particularly clear day!
I told John of my childhood, the days spent in this rural village, the games that I did, the house that we built the tree, of somersaults on the grass, hiking in the woods and long walks in the fields ...
I scored with my finger all the known sites, the distant mountains, there are countries that could scorgere... Majano è la... Buja e laggiù... Colloredo e dietro quella collina... Gemona è sotto quel monte... Udine non si può vedere da qua, ma è in quella direzione... E Faedis? Mi chiede!!! Faedis è laggiu, tra quelle due colline alte, ma da qua non si vede!!!
Poi siamo scesi, piano piano, continuando a parlare della vita che si viveva a Mels prima del terremoto.
Prima di ritornare alla macchina, abbiamo fatto una passeggiata, scendendo la collina fino al campo dove da bambina giocavo agli indiani. C'erano crochi a perdita d'occhio...
... e cespi di primule gialle e delicate!!!
I did see John where once my home. Of course, now the two buildings that constituted the main house and barn, no longer exist. In their place stands a house that my parents built in his time with the money for reconstruction and sold a few years later.
We walked around the perimeter of the land that was once my playground. There was a vineyard, an orchard here, these trees were not there, there was a large fig tree and the bush here ...
's still a very beautiful place Mels, but certainly now has lost the taste that had at one time. Here now everything is modern or reconstructed. There are almost no more authentically old houses, but houses or houses with reinforced concrete beams and walls. The village that was the setting for the happiest days of my childhood there and in my memories.
rest a little after the long walk, watching the field of sheaves of Marcellus.
Come on baby, we must return, Marta is waiting for us at the party. I do not want a slice of cake??