Luciana reports that someone else is living in our old house now and, although she has seen them at a distance once or twice, she has not actually met them. I thought I would be sadder about leaving that house than it turns out that I am. My boys never lived there with me, so it is just a house, no matter how beautiful.

The other house was dominated by the woods and the gardens and terraces and by the house itself with its secrets and its magic. Here, the new house is dominated by the enveloping view of the sea and, most of all, by the sky. Jonathan and I call out to each other, again and again, from wherever we are in the house, "Look at the sky! Look at the sky!"

I am spending my days doing little things to prepare for my book launch -- trying to lay the groundwork for getting some publicity, building my "brand," which is what everyone must have these days, they say. Up until now, my brand has been "old lady farting around in Italy while eating too much and drinking wine," but that won't cut it anymore, they say. I have to actively engage with an enthusiastic reader base, they say. I must flog the merch, they say.

William Faulkner never had to prostrate himself to the malevolent gods of social media, I say.

You're no William Faulkner, they say.