Tale one: After a tip off from a couple of farmers we made our way towards one of their grandmothers. A tiny 92 year old greeted us with kind eyes and asked if we wanted to see her house . With the rule to agree to everything we thanked her and asked her where she lived. Her frail hand pointed towards the sky and we squinted to make out a house nestled at the top of a VERY steep hill. Puffing behind her we trailed up the hill, stopping half way to share our amazement at her stamina and health. After a steady climb (that she told us she does a few times a day) we found ourselves at a quaint house lined with traditional hand made fabrics and modest necessities . After showing us around she lifted a bottle of Tuica from the cupboard:
" Just one glass a day for good health" she said with a smile.
The second image is from the day that the chicken was slaughtered ( for the sake of art as well as dinner). These two neighbors gossiped whilst ironically dangling a soon to be dead chicken and bag of fresh eggs. I wondered if the chicken was aware of it's fate as it occasionally flapped in the hands of it's executioner. Beside the items these two neighbors were like any of mine back in the suburban Surrey hills.
from a thankfully sunny Turin