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Treviso

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Porta of San Tomaso.Treviso

The north entrance gate to Treviso is called Porta of San Tomaso, daunting walls were erected to make the town more secure in the early sixteenth century.  Access to the town was restricted to just three gates,which have all survived intact to the present day.

The water canals flow around and through Treviso under large and small bridges and in front of reflecting houses with their colourful balconies of blooming flowers.Treviso is a maze of narrow cobbled lanes, and not easy to walk around ladies with heels.

outside the wall

inside the wall

Treviso by night is magnificient, the heart of town Piazza dei Signori is the main meeting place for both young and old. Now surrounded by bars,restaurants and ice cream parlours. It’s the place to meet for a “spritz” the local drink of prosecco and bitters.

Piazza dei Signori

Piazza dei signori

The floating city…Venice

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St Mark's Basilica

  

Venice is a wonderful and magical place to visit…a quick 20 minutes in train from where I live..I have the opportunity to visit often.     

 It’s the start of the  busy tourist season at the moment..although i don’t think Venice is ever quiet, never the less, Sunday’s visit with friends was most enjoyable.For a first time visitor, it’s just the expression on their face, after capturing the first glance, (walking out of the train station),the smile on their face that let’s me know it’s all and more than they imagined. Spectacular views of architecture,galleries and artisan showrooms,gondola’s and the taste of local wines and food,Venice with capture your heart.      

St. Marks Basilica

Ponte Rialto

Wandering through the many little alleyways..of course it’s not Venice if you don’t lose your way! Over small canals and bridges there’s always something new to discover.  

 An out-of-the-way restaurant serving the local fresh cuisine and wine,or finding an angle where a local artist sells his paintings. However  the question that came to mind on Sunday was.. can you really tell, who the person living there is by the washing on the line?      

Washing Day

Looking up…private is not private living in Venice. Wanting to capture a few rays of  sunshine is everyone’s washing plain for the world to see.Inquisitive eye’s just wanting a glimpse of who lives inside these apartments..or what do these apartments look like….linen transparent curtains with a glow of a lamp inside…tell’s me that someone’s home. It’s clear that the apartments on the top floors are hard to find vacant…as who want’s to come home with floating cushions and rugs or your cat hanging from the chandelier with high tides. 

arriving in gondola

venice waters

Purple Butterfly

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Lavender watering can,shovel and trowel hand painted by Yvette

  

  

Butterfly Lavender … 

Growing in terracotta pots on my terrace and in the garden with full sun the Butterfly Lavender flowers all Summer.

Lavender not only decorative, leaves its pleasant perfume throughout the home. I often place it in the bathroom simply on a decorative plate or in a glass jar without the lid. 

Easily entwined with rosemary for a summer garland, giving freshness and perfume to any Summer dinner table or individual place settings. 

 Dried of freshly picked with  rose petals leaves a touch of romanticism throughout the home. 

 
 

Butterfly Lavender

Running through my veins…..

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bushland

I have fond memories when I was younger,growing up with the influence of my Nonno and Nonna (Italian grandparents) on their farm in the bush.Keeping the Italian family tradition going. Gathering for  Sunday lunch after church enjoying the pleasurable foods of fresh produce from the farm and that special meal my Nonna would prepare for her large extended family. 

Times we would get together to make Italian sausages down in the shed…after of course my Nonno had studied the movement of the moon if it was the right time to slay that fattened pig or not.The recipe no one really knows it,it was a secret  just what spices and quantities to use but us grandchildren always shared the work of tying the strings around the sausages…and then taking them to the drying shed….I remember the perfume of the cheese my Nonna had made several months before and waiting for it to be ready to eat with that crusty homemade bread. 

The making of ricotta and eating the curds, boiling hot from the swinging cauldren.The roasted chickens,slow cooked duck in sugo (tomatoes) roasted turkey and geese….served with polenta (cornmeal) and a never-ending stream of fresh vegetables. The herb garden where of course there were the basics of rosemary,basil and oregano and garlic fresh for any good italian recipe.Not forgetting the home-made pasta and gnocchi.The Italian biscuits and cakes with her Sicilian manner. 

My memories also of my Nanna come to mind of her Sunday afternoon tea treat of hot scones with melting butter and strawberry jam.Her Christmas pudding with us kids trying to find the hidden sixpence (without breaking our teeth) and creamy custard or her “famous” Christmas fruit cake…(thanks to an Aunty) they’re still made today. Corned beef and yorkshire puddings.Apple crumble and that crusty apple pie with vanilla ice-cream. 

The message here is that from a young age I was surrounded by home making cooks. Never left anything on my plate and always tried anything and everything…..as i still do today.