The reception for my new book happened Saturday afternoon down at the pub, out on the terrace under the tree leaves. As Jonathan and I left the house to go to it, we ran into (not literally, thank god) a big snake sunning itself on our porch. We decided (not immediately, I admit) to view it as a good omen -- the adrenalin certainly helps to put you into the pepped-up party mood and the screaming warms up the vocal cords wonderfully.

Because I have truly debilitating stage fright, fortuitously combined with truly abysmal Italian language skills, I wrote out the presentation in English (and also, you know, the book itself), but Jonathan did the translation of the presentation into Italian and then gave the presentation speaking as me. It was lovely. He did all the labor while I just sat and gazed at him adoringly. Easy peasy. The we all ate a lovely buffet that Daniele and Alice had put out for the occasion. Also, I had my hand kissed for the first non-facetious time ever in my life by an elderly European gentleman. It was pretty swoony, I have to say. Not everyone could get away with it.

But now I am ready to go back to being part of the furniture, which is how I like my life best. In furtherance of this, I have been taking long afternoon naps so as to preclude any future achievements that would end up in public receptions. I can't accomplish too much if I spend all my time drooling into my pillow. A clever tactic.

Besides which it is very hot. Very, very hot. Mimmo is a bit worried about the olives. It is too hot too soon for them. The trees have lots of baby olives the size and color of peas on the branches now, but if we don't get rain soon, he tells us that the baby olives could all drop off. This would break my heart.

And not just mine. The weather made for a bad harvest around here last year and put a real strain on the olive farmers. Olives have been cultivated on this land for at least two thousand years, but global climate change may be bringing it all crashing to an end -- not just the olives, but a whole way of life. None of us had anything that we can do about it personally and individually -- it is beyond our control. So I just watch the sky for signs of rain and hope.