Autism and animals

I knew that my post about humans being the lowest creatures on Earth would create a bit of a controversy. And indeed it did because for the first time I received a couple of personal reactions, most of which were in a sense that animals are nonetheless inferior to humans or that having children is what we should do. There was even a lady stating that "humans have a soul whilst animals have not". I was inclined to ask her at what point in evolution humans received that soul then, but in the end didn't because surely also evolution is a doubtful theory and the truth is that women are only made of a man's spare parts. :-)

All jokes aside, I'd like to come back on the subject of animals because of their influence on autistic people. It's a subject that's quite popular on the various autism blogs and fora these days so I'd also like to give my contribution.

Personally, if I have to look deep down in my soul... (:-)) animals have always been my very best friends. Much more so than humans. The reasons for this are quite obvious:

- Animals only give true love and friendship, whereas human friendship's often fake or conditional. Perhaps this is yet another reason why humans are actually lower creatures than animals? Animals will never lie and always be devoted to you no matter what.  

- Making friends with an animal is easy. You don't need to go through the whole social bullshit phase before you can consider it a friend. You don't even have to talk! Just give the animal your love and you'll get it back a thousandfold! 

Now let's combine this piece of knowledge with autism. Why is it so difficult for autistic people to make friends? Because first of all we've got great difficulties communicating. As I already said, we don't understand words at all. We're completely unable to think in words. The only thing we can reason with are images and believe me, it takes an enormous effort trying to translate the things that are said to us into images and worse, trying to translate these images back into words which other people may understand. That's why we often say the wrong things, or nothing at all. We're under so much pressure to talk, that we'll say just about anything, hoping that it's well received by the other person. With the obvious result that the others will quickly regard us as "weirdos" and don't want to be friends with us at all, even though we've got so much friendship to offer. 

With animals, things are completely different. The animal will automatically feel our friendship and give it back. Can you imagine what a relief this is to us, to have a friend that doesn't demand social or communicative skills from us? That's why animals are not only our closest friends, but they're also the only creatures that manage to calm us down when we're overly frustrated or angry because we can't cope with this busy world anymore. They just radiate their love to us and we can let go of all worries. 

And then there is the honesty factor. Do you know what scares autistic people so much about social interaction, perhaps even more so than our fear of not being able to say the right things? Jokes, figurative speech, lies and all other forms of false or indirect communication. Since we don't understand words as such and have to translate them into images, we don't see any difference between a sentence being used "normally" and the same sentence being used as a joke or in a figurative way. And so we are usually the ones who don't understand the joke, think that it truly happened and once again we become the laughing stock of all the others. How terribly frustrating! I've been trying to teach myself the noble art of figurative speech and jokes for ages, with some success I might add, but still I often get it wrong, in spite of all my experience. Logical, because my "experience" just means that I try to remember certain phrases or jokes after I've discovered they were actually jokes and if the same thing is said to me a second time, chances are that I still remember and recognise the joke. Unless... the words are slightly altered. Or even worse! That this time it's not a joke but it's for real! And then I'm the only one laughing and all the rest are staring at me like "what's so funny about that?". 

No, no, no... Thinking about communicating already makes my head spin. So please excuse me but I prefer my cats to humans because they'll remain my friends forever, even if I don't speak to them. And they don't use any figurative speech either. They just lay their heads on my chest and touch my face with one of their little paws in order to say "I love you". And I love them too... with all of my heart.

After the euphoria... the delusion

No, it's not our Thomas. After almost a week we managed to catch the cat we really believed was him. But when we took it to the vet, our hopes were shattered because this cat hadn't got any id chip between its shoulders. The vet also said that it's very well possible that a cat's fur becomes a lot clearer in the dare circumstances that we found it in, but not its muzzle. And since our Thomas definitely had a black face and this one was grey... No, it wasn't to be... 

Were we blinded by hope and despair? Didn't we see the obvious signs such as its different gaze or its different meow? The absence of fluffy points of hair on its ears? The fact that this cat was so wild and didn't recognise the name "Thomas" at all? Perhaps... But you'll certainly agree that it was a terrible coincidence. According to the people in the village, this cat turned up two months ago, exactly when our Thomas disappeared. It also resembled our Thomas so very much, with its "lion collar", yellow eyes and fluffy tail... also its posture was very much like the typical Norwegian Forest cat, with the unmistakable sharp curve in its back when it was sitting upright. Who would believe that here in the Italian "outback" there would be two cats so very much alike? We certainly didn't believe so...

Now we've still got one little sparkle of hope left. A lady told us that it's in fact possible that there were two similar cats around, one of which actually belongs to a man who recently moved to this village. When this lady accidentally saw the cat we believed to be Thomas, she asked this man whether his cat hadn't escaped, but he replied: "No, no, mine's right here". So, are there two of them? Could it be possible that this man threw his own cat out on the street and got our Thomas instead, just because Thomas looks so much more handsome and is so much friendlier and good-humoured? Believe me, we're going to find out! What luck that Thomas indeed has the microchip so we can actually prove he's ours... That is, if he's with that man indeed... 

Humans are the lowest creatures on Earth - part 2

In order to illustrate what I wrote yesterday, here are a few pictures of Thomas, "before" and "after". 

Thomas playing with Flora in the snow...

Proudly showing off his summer-coat...

And this is what he looks like now, scared, mutilated, with a big swelling on his nose and puss coming out of the tear-channel in his eyes. I don't know about you but I would vote for exactly the same treatment to be given to the bastard who did this than he did to Thomas. There is a significant difference between just chasing a stray cat away because it annoys you and beating it up like this. People who do this to animals do not deserve the predicate "human" at all.

Humans are the lowest creatures on Earth

Many of you were probably frowning when you read the title of this post. But nevertheless I hold the strong conviction that we are indeed the lowest creatures that are roaming the surface of this planet. And why, you might ask? Because we are the only creatures that are NOT living in perfect harmony with this planet. We perhaps live in nature but we certainly don’t live with nature. And the few of us who did, have quickly be converted either the soft way or the hard to the so-called civilised way of living, like the American Indians or the tribes in Africa. Those were still people who appreciated the beauty of this planet and tried to live in harmony with it, by giving and taking. We, the self-declared civilised people, are only taking from nature what we need without giving anything in return. Instead of living in harmony with this planet we try to re-shape it such that the planet serves our ever-growing needs. And our hunger for more is unstoppable. We consume the Earth’s natural resources at a fearsome rate. We pollute this planet so much that it is dying and we don’t seem to really care because our greed is more important to us. We reproduce and reproduce without there being any real natural threat anymore apart from the odd disease, meaning that we have totally overcrowded our environment and that there is ever less space for the rest of the natural inhabitants of our world. Oh, we all want children so badly that we spare no cost in order to have them without considering the consequences outside of our insignificant personal world. Some say that children are our future, but if we continue to reproduce at this pace there’ll soon not be any future left because every child needs its share of the fading resources. You might even say with a bit of cynism that those who have more than two children are co-responsible for the murder of our planet!

There is only one more kind of beings that has exactly the same kind of behaviour like us, and those are the parasites. Yes, we humans are parasites! We consume our host completely and when it dies, we simply move to the next host or if that is impossible, we prefer to die with our host rather than to do anything about it. Some say, and especially the more religious ones among us, that man is the "lord of creation". Please, don’t make me laugh! We? Lords? Why should we be more important than any other living creature, either plant or animal? Because we happen to be a tad more intelligent? Actually, I also doubt very much whether we are indeed more intelligent than some animals and I can only agree to what Douglas Adams wrote. He argued that dolphins are more intelligent than man because all they ever do is mocking about in the water, having a good time. Whilst we humans spend hours in peak-hour traffic, do jobs that most of us don’t want to do in the first place, pay awful mortgages and in the end only spend a minimal amount of our time on the things that really matter. No, then I’d much rather be a dolphin!

And there is another aspect about man which makes me say that we are the lowest creatures of them all. We consider ourselves to be so incredibly important and so above everything else in this world, that we believe that we can just do anything to any other living creature without the slightest bit of remorse, let alone punishment. And yes, before any extreme veggie reacts to my post, I’m a meat eater, like we humans naturally are for the largest part. It is a law of nature that you have to kill in order to eat. Cats, for example, can ONLY survive on meat, although some idiots are trying to feed them carrots and other plant-like stuff that is very unhealthy for them. On top of that, I hold the firm belief that also plants are a lot more sophisticated creatures than is generally accepted and it’s not because a carrot doesn’t say “auch” when you throw it alive in boiling water that it doesn’t suffer. There are tonnes of evidence that plants not only feel, but that they also communicate with each other, like e.g. Australian eucalyptus trees which start to produce not only poison but also pheromones when they “feel” that something is eating its leaves. These pheromones are picked up by the other trees and also they start producing poison in order to deter the animals from eating any more.

So I repeat: all creatures great and small, we are all EQUAL! We all have EQUAL rights to be on this planet and to live the life for which we were destined. And now I come to the nut of the matter because you’ll probably wonder why I’m writing all of this. A couple of days ago, we received a telephone call from an extremely friendly lady who lives in the village of Sologno, about 5km away from us. She had spotted a strange-looking cat among the usual strays that roam in the streets over there. Her description made us believe in miracles again, although we were still in a lot of doubt, but when we saw it we were absolutely certain: it was our little Thomas!!! But apart from being overjoyed about finding him back, we were deeply grieved because Thomas was no longer the Thomas we always knew: good-humoured, curious and proud. No, Thomas’ appearance has changed a lot. His fur is knotted and dirty and he’s very thin, all things which you could expect after him being away from home for more than two months and after having survived these terribly cold first weeks of February. But what’s a lot worse: his nose is severely swollen and his eyes are dull and sad. He’s incredibly scared of humans now. Which leads us to conclude that Thomas’ adventure started with a very bad experience with humans which probably continued while he was in that other village. There he was probably treated the same way like the other strays and we can only thank heaven and earth that there are still a couple of merciful people around who’ve fed him a few scraps every now and then so he could stay alive. Of all of Earth’s creatures, there is only one who’d do this to another living creature, just for pleasure or because it “feels like it”: man. And therefore, we are the lowest of them all.

It’ll probably take a bit more time before we’ll be able to catch him. But now we’re reassured that he’s still alive and that one day he’ll return to our family. His physical wounds will probably heal. His psychological ones probably not entirely and he’ll most likely not be the same Thomas anymore we’ve always known. It's sad, but we'll have to accept it. At least he’ll be back and we’ll spoil him like a little baby, which he actually is: our little baby. No matter how much other people laugh when we say that...

The magazine article!

It's truly amazing!!! Obviously Christine and I already knew about it for some time, so perhaps the most amazing thing about it is that I managed to keep my mouth shut until now. But since last week the new edition of the Flemish "Grande Italië" magazine ("Grande Italy") is available at every decent news agent's or bookshop. In it, you'll find a four-page article about our B&B!!! :-D 

For those of you who master the language I've posted the first two pages of the pre-publishing version of the article here:

Oh... We're soooo thrilled!!! :-)

The simple things in life

What makes life truly special? If you ask me... it's the small, simple things. We spend so much time making money, trying to buy a bigger house than our neighbour, trying to buy a bigger car or a fancier mobile phone... and for what? Of course money is necessary in order to survive and try to build an enjoyable life. It's such a disgrace that even in these "developed" times there are still so many people who even haven't got a roof above their heads, especially in the self-declared "developed" countries. But what does it matter to have a lot of money? Before we came to Italy, Christine and I sold EVERYTHING! I'd got a beautiful and reasonably expensive car. Heck, I sold it and... GOOD RIDDANCE! The insurance company will not make any big money out of me anymore! Give me a Vespa anytime! :-)  We had a fairly big house with a beautiful garden which Christine was so proud of because she had designed and created it herself... Well, we're very happy that the new owners appreciate it so much! None of these things count in a million years if you talk about true happiness. And that is what I would like to talk about today. 

And for those who'd argue that it's easy for us to say because we're living here in Italy without any worries etc... You just don't know how wrong you are! Because of the local mob clan and this incompetent geometer in the first place we're up to our ears in debt and we're still facing two lawsuits because those greedy bastards still think we haven't paid enough. And this after we'd planned everything so carefully and believed that we could survive in Italy for at least two or three years without having to work at all. Now we're living here with the sword of Damocles over our heads and can only hope that the bank will keep its faith in us. 

And do you know what? I DON'T CARE! Not anymore! I've had too many sleepless nights and will not let my life be ruined anymore because of such horrible people or financial worries. Enjoy every day as if it were your last!!! And do you know what? It works! What do you think about the following pictures? When we were having breakfast, our entrance lane was suddenly occupied by the roe-deer family which has been roaming the area for some time now. And obviously, Christine couldn't contain herself and had to sneak out with some old bread, hoping that the roe-deer would  come and pick it out of her hands. Well, the roe-deer kept a safe distance, but didn't really run away either. They'd probably sussed that Christine is an animal-loving person and wouldn't do them any harm, on the contrary. But the deer just wanted to make sure I guess. Better luck next time, Christine! :-) 

Christine, the lumberjack

Did I already mention that I have a fabulous wife? One that isn't afraid of making her hands dirty and if necessary do jobs that other women (or men!) would never dare to do? Today she gave yet another demonstration of what she's capable of. She took her chainsaw (yes, her chainsaw) and went up the hill right next to our house because there were some dead and deformed trees to be cut down. One of which was well over 15m tall and nearly as thick as the blade of her chainsaw! She admitted that she was indeed a bit scared. Who wouldn't be, standing on a steep slope with such a dangerous machine in your hands and cutting down a big tree that could just as well land on your head. But she did it. And how! The tree fell exactly where she hoped it would, right in between two bushes that she absolutely wanted to preserve, which left her a space of about 4m for the trunk to fall into. And it fell right in the middle of it! Oh... how proud she is... and how proud I am of her!  Just look at that happy smile on her face! :-)

What a woman...

Closing ranks

It's been a while since I wrote about the Big Bad Wolf and his followers, most prominently the Nasty Little Man. But lately tension has risen again. You may remember the NLM, the contractor who started the restoration works to our house and who we consequently thanked for his services after we fired the Big Bad Wolf, our geometer/architect, for running a scam, for being totally incompetent and for trying to rip us off. The list of defects to our house is growing every day and I'll list some of the most important here:

- Water in our walls and under the floor due to incorrectly laid drainage tubes (and we've got floor heating - how much do you think we've already spent trying to keep our house warm!)

- When we went to sign the act for the acquisition of our house and land, all of a sudden 2 plots of land had disappeared from the original plans (we suspect that this was part of a secret deal between our ex-geometer and the vendors because the former probably had a percentage of his own in the sale somewhere and negotiated to have these plots removed so the house would still fit our budget and he would still get his fee without us knowing it. At the solicitor's he claimed that these plots had never been part of the sale, although we've got his original map!)

- A derelict entry road (for which we paid €5.000!)

- Only 6cm of roof insulation whereas the legal minimum is 12cm (imagine what this means during winter!)

- Dubious paperwork (e.g. the compulsory seismic study has only been requested AFTER the works had already started and even AFTER we had already fired the BBW - imagine how insurance companies will react if anything should happen to our house!)

- and so and and so on...

The BBW went to court claiming another €16.000 of fees and expenses (after we'd already paid him over €4.000) and this left the NLM in a bit of a fix. He too is still claiming a lot of money from us: initially €38.000, then he lowered it to €27.000 and the last thing we heard was €21.000. During the final reconciliation meeting in April last year, he said he'd sue us. Well, we're still waiting. Our brave solicitor told us that lately she'd accidentally bumped into the NLM's solicitor in court and that he again insisted that we'd pay up or he'd take it to court. Upon which she obviously replied: "Go ahead, we're already waiting a year!"

Now you'd think that the infamous Italian mafia isn't what it used to be anymore. We're already in the 2010's, the Italian government is taking the war against the mafia very seriously and we're also far away from the south of Italy, where the mob's  still holding strong. But nothing is less true. Also here, the mafia is apparently still controlling a large part of everyday life. Not that people get shot for not paying their "protection fees", or at least not that I know of, but intimidation, corruption and the buying off of local officials are still well-spread practices over here. For example, our ex-geometer usually charges a secret fee of 10-20% to all of the workers who want to work on his projects. And if they don't accept? Tough... but no more work! And who do you think these workers pass it on to? Right! Us, the innocent people who try to build a new life with every penny we've got. And what do all of the local people do? They keep silent and just pay the bills. No one has ever dared to challenge the omnipotent family of "Kings" of the Emilian Apennines. Not even a poor English family which came to live here a few years before us and was consecutively robbed of €100.000 (!) without even realising it. No one... until Christine came here. She threw the BBW right out and the NLM after him and she'd be more than happy to take all of this to court, obviously with the aid of our brilliant female solicitor (I'm sorry to say it guys, but it takes a woman to do this!) - and this after our previous two (male) solicitors wet their pants when they heard who we were up against and were more than happy to hand our case over to someone else. 

All of this has obviously made the "Royal Family" very nervous and if threats are no longer sufficient, they try other means, like inciting the whole population against us. And unfortunately, this works in part. Christine's been looking for a lot of manure to make our field fertile again so she can create a garden. Initially, she found a very friendly farmer who was more than happy to drop his manure on our field because just like about anywhere else the farmers are having difficulties to get rid of the stuff. But after he'd already dropped two tractor loads, he didn't come anymore. And also all of the other farmers in our village have suddenly refused, and very rudely too. Well, if they can afford manure disposal it's their problem. Christine's now found another farmer a bit further away and he's more than keen to come to us. But it's just an illustration of the BBW's power and what a horrible man he actually is. Truly someone who's never heard the word "no" in his life and who's always had things his way. But this is going to change! We're going to bring him down, so hard he won't even know what hit him! We're going to free these mountains of his despicable influence so everybody can again live in peace and without having to pay any more tribute to a person who doesn't deserve it in the least. 

I wish I could post a picture of this man, but couldn't find any immediately on the web. But that's ok, Danilo Silvestri... you're history... and you'll be remembered as the last of the mob bosses of these mountains. People will spit when then hear your name and you will lose all of the money you so wrongly took from all the poor people, yes, even from your own family! Trying to rip us off was your biggest mistake and one which will remain a very painful memory to you forever!  

Pictures of the day

This morning, Christine got up a little earlier because she'll spend the week in Flanders, helping her mother with the move to a new apartment. But that didn't stop her from taking the following two gorgeous pictures. Yes, after a good week of summer, winter came back to give us a final snow blanket. And then there are some who hate winter? Well, that's perhaps easy for me to say because I don't have to endure peak hour traffic. Or rather make that... any traffic at all. But still every season has its beauty and perhaps winter even more so than the others. That is what I truly like about the Italian Apennines: here one can still find true seasons. Summer over here is real summer and winter is real winter. Not the wishy-washy all year round twelve degree rained down excuse for a weather we get in Flanders or the rest of Western Europe. Christine just told me through Skype that she can't wait to return to Italy. And who wouldn't believe her? It's just 6 more days, my love... 

 

Harry's back!!!

Yes!!! Harry's back!!! Well, at least we believe it's good old Harry because you can't really be sure, can you? But for about a week we get a regular visit from a wild boar, probably attracted by our heap of compost. A couple of days ago I went out on our terrace to absorb a bit of sunshine with a nice glass of wine, and I noticed that our cats were a bit nervous and were staring towards the bush next to our house. So I went to take a look and didn't immediately see anything until... Harry suddenly stormed out of the bush and away, over the hill behind our house. I was a bit startled because the boar had been sitting just 10m in front of me. But apparently Harry was more startled than I was. The day afterwards I saw him again, by the trees behind our field. I immediately ran for my camera, but by the time I got out and close enough, Harry had spotted me and hotted off again. So my apologies for this bad picture, but at least it will still count as proof for my story! :-)

A tribute to the most wonderful woman in the world

She... is the flame that keeps me alive.

From her lips I receive the honey that gives me strength.

She... is the shield that protects me from getting hurt.

On her frail shoulders our paradise is built...
and I can finally find peace

I believe it is about time that I dedicate a blog post to a wonderful person. In the thirteen years that I know her, she's never ceased to amaze me with her incredible amount of abilities. Whether a tree needs to be cut down, a wall needs to be built or plastered, a Christmas market needs to be organised, electrical wiring needs to be laid, a birthday cake needs to be baked and decorated, snow chains need to be put on a car's wheels, stockings need to be knit or a derelict house needs to be revived... she'll do it. And what's more, she'll do all of these things as if she were born with those talents. Even though she may humbly say that there isn't anything she can do well... believe me, this is false modesty because anything she does, she does it with so much care and so much attention for detail that she excels well above the gray middle-mass. Never have I met anyone so gifted...

But then again, these are not the important aspects which make a person truly special. What's truly amazing is that on top of all of this she is kind. She is caring and loving. She constantly puts herself on the background in order to give priority to others. Even more so, she dedicates her life to helping other people. She's a problem solver. She's a fighter. More so for someone else's rights and worries than her own. She makes other people rest and feel comfortable while she takes care of everything. And she does this with so much vigour and strength that even mob bosses who've been oppressing whole towns for decades start trembling when they see her.

And yet, she is fragile. She's fought so hard and for so long that her wings have been cut and that the almost infinite amount of energy she was endowed with has started to fade. Tears roll off her cheeks every time she reflects on the things she still has to do in this life and the unjust disease which keeps her in its grasp, painfully binding her hands and feet. 

But not her mind. In her mind she is free and spreading her unstoppable love across the Earth. And especially over me. And for that, I'm eternally grateful.

Winter wonderland

The snow is melting, the cold days are over. Time to awake from our hibernation and return to normal life. But before we do, I'd like to treat you with some of the pictures Christine and I took from our garden over the past two weeks... a journey into winter's paradise...

The old pig stable, now wood storage...

Snow covered trees...

 The far view... misty, snowy mountains...

Also our cats didn't mind the snow at all! Here's Blu on the lookout, unaware that she's being stalked by cunning little Tobi... :-)

And two extraordinary pictures, taken by Christine this morning around 7:45... We could hardly believe our eyes! Four male deer, wandering about in our field!!!... What majestic animals, aren't they? Is there still anyone of you in doubt that our motto "Paradise exists" is slightly over the top?...

Flora is ours!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen... Those of you who've been following my blog over the past years will very well remember the story of Flora, the penultimate addition to our family. Otherwise I'd suggest you read "Flora's Poem" (July 2010, if I'm not mistaking).

Our trust in the Italian judicial system turned out to be justified because this week the judge rejected all of the vendor's claims. This means that Flora will definitely remain ours forever and that I was right in asking my money back through VISA. Our solicitors are now considering a claim for damages and veterinary expenses (which are nearing €2.000 in total!) and if they believe we'd have a fair chance we'll sue those disgusting animal traders very hard indeed. A couple of months ago, I still received a promotional mail from them (they were stupid enough to leave me in their distribution list... :-) ) in which they were offering a big sale: "this month: all puppies and kittens go for just €150!". As if they were selling plain clothes or pieces of furniture! How can they even look at themselves in the mirror? Here's their main website again - for the sake of "name and shame", but there are at least three or four others leading to the same business:

http://www.vendita-cuccioli-caniegatti.com/

These people are ruthless animal molesters who import so-called pedigree cats and dogs by the lorry from shady breeders in Eastern-Europe. Many of them die during transport or from continuous malnutrition and abuse. It's unbelievable that this can still happen in the twenty-first century! It certainly confirms my opinion that there is only one animal on this planet which can be totally vile and who doesn't want to live in harmony with nature at all: man! 

Fortunately, at least one furry creature could be saved from them: our little Flora, the "true lady" among our cats, with her gracious and almost "dancing" ways and her incredibly kind character... Flora, we love you... and she definitely loves us... :-)

Thomas' poem

Hello! I'm Thomas, a very easy-going Norwegian Forest kitten. I was born and raised at a very nice and dedicated breeder somewhere way up north in Holland. The lady who cared for me during my first weeks was extremely kind and she made sure that I'd grow up in perfect health and with the best of care. Then, one day in August 2009, two people came to visit my cat family. They were Christine and Peter and they had driven for more than three hours all the way up here to collect my half-sister Chloe. But in a sense also for me because they had already seen my cute little smoke-black muzzle on the internet and they were very much inclined to take me with them as well. It took some convincing because i was only eight weeks old at the time and for a pedigree cat this is a bit too young. But the lady clearly saw what a big heart Christine and Peter had for cats so eventually she gave in and I went into the box with Chloe for the long trip back to Belgium. I have to admit that i was very much afraid and all of the time I was making squeeky little noises. But Chloe wasn't afraid at all and her presence comforted me, together with the kind words Christine and Peter said in order to put me at ease. 

Once we had arrived at their Belgian house, I already started to feel a lot better. The house was really big and had those enormous windows all the way down to the ground so I could look very far into their garden. I also got to meet Canelle and Blu, their other two cats, and since I'm so relaxed I immediately became everybody's little buddy. I always patiently awaited my turn to eat and hungrily emptied all of the little saucers of food. I'm not picky at all and all the leftovers always disappeared in my little tummy. 

Then, six months later, disaster struck for the first time. Chloe, my dear big sister, was run over by a car and died. Oh, how much did I grieve... how much did I miss her... Certainly, there was still Blu with whom I got along so well and who omforted me, but things were never really the same after that.  

Another couple of months later I suffered another big trauma. Four big men came with a huge lorry and they barged around the house all day long and made a lot of noise. I was so scared that I hid in the back of the garden, under the hedge. Eventually they left late in the afternoon, but still I was stiffened of fear and didn't dare to leave my hiding place, even when Peter started calling me. After half an hour or so he found me and he stretched his hand out for me. I was a bit in doubt about what to do. He called me friendly names but I sensed that something was wrong. When I indicated that I'd rather hide a bit further away, he suddenly grabbed me. I panicked... Why did he grab me? Why did he drag me back to the house where all of these men had been making so much noise all of the time? No... I didn't want to go back there! I scratched Peter... hard... so hard that he's still bearing the signs... But he didn't release me and dropped me inside, making sure that I couldn't go out anymore. What I saw devastated me. The whole house was... empty. Gone were my big cat poles, my sofa, my little carpet... everything was just... gone. I ran upstairs and hid in the only place there was still left: in the shower. There I spent a dreadful and sleepless night, knowing that the nightmare wouldn't end right there.

And I was right. Very early the next morning I heard sqeals from Canelle and Blu. I ran out of the shower and tried to hide behind the bathtub. It took Peter quite some time before he found me and I heard in his voice that he was getting a bit desperate. But eventually he spotted me, dragged me out and shoved me in the biggest cat box, together with Blu. And then we were all carried away. We all cried but to no avail. We were put in a car and drove away... far away... Then we arrived at a very busy place. We couldn't see where we were because the boxes had been covered with a piece of cloth in order to keep us as calm as possible. But I could clearly hear that the place was very big and that there were a lot of people there. Hundreds, maybe thousands! Oh no... I was soooo scared... The worst still had to come! I heard that Peter abandoned us and that our boxes were suddenly grabbed by someone who didn't care as much about us as Peter. The man carried us a long way down, outside to a very noisy place and then inside a kind of trunk. We were in the belly of an airplane!!! The flight took an hour and a half and I've never been through anything so scary in my whole life! It was bumpy... we couldn't see what was going on... the air pressure went down and then up again... We were all so terrified that we didn't make a single sound anymore. And then everything went quiet. We were abandoned again. The place was empty. And then... I heard Peter's voice again!!! He had come to collect us!!! Hurray!!! He opened the cloth a bit and said hello to us! And a couple of minutes later, there was another big surprise: I saw Christine again! She had left us nine months earlier for a reaso which I didn't understand, but there she was! Again we were put in a car and drove for an hour and a half. But I already started to feel a little better because I sensed that the torment would soon be over. We arrived ad a small house. Just a couple of rooms, but reasonably cosy. There we were to stay for three months. I didn't like the idea at all and wanted to go back home. But Christine and Peter made sure that we wouldn't be able to get out for at least a couple of weeks. There I also met another lady cat: Flora. We all hid under the sofa's and didn't get out for days. We didn't make any noises either, apart from the occasional hiss at eachother. But in the end I started to appreciate Flora. After all, she's a very beautiful girl and we started to get along quite well. 

Would this be the end of it? No. After three months, we were all put in the car again and we drove off. Only ten minutes this time. And to a place far beyond any of my dreams. To a truly beautiful little house, in the middle of the woods and with a vast field in front of it. It was cat's paradise! It didn't take me long to adjust to this new place and slowly I became happy again. Yes... I was truly happy. 

And now... I don't know where I am anymore. My beautiful home, my little paradise has gone. It has been exactly two weeks. From time to time, I think I can hear Christine and Peter call my name in the far distance. But they can't hear me. I really want them to hear me, but they can't. In the meantime the mild spring weather has gone and half a metre of snow fell overnight. I feel lonely... hungry... scared... Where is my warm little home? Where are Christine and Peter? What happened to me? And why? Can anyone please help me? can anyone please bring me home again?    

Missing

It's been a week now. Exactly a week since I came down the stairs in the morning and went into our living room. There I was greeted by Canelle, who way lying in her armchair by the window. But hers were the only purrs I heard. The sofa was empty. This immediately alarmed me a bit because every morning Thomas used to sleep there and everytime I entered he would raise his cute little head and ask for a cuddle. But no Thomas that morning. Well, cats have a mind of their own and he's been out partying for over a day before. Yet, I had a feeling that this time it was different. I instinctively knew that something was wrong. The day went by. Every now and then Christine and I would call his name in the vicinity of his usual hang-outs. Thomas is the biggest talker of all cats I've already known and normally you'd immediately hear his reply in his unique suqeeks and purrs and little meows. That day, however, the replies never came. A night went by and Christine and I almost didn't sleep. The next morning I went down, desperately hoping to find him in his sofa as always. Alas, again he wasn't there. Christine and I searched day and night in all of the fields and woods in the area, going far beyond the limits where our cats would usually go. We looked by the road, looking for signs of an accident with a car. We looked into every little bush, hoping to find him hiding, frightened by something. But we found nothing. 

At that point, we started hypothesising about what could have happened. Could it have been a fox? Very unlikely. A fox must be pretty desperate trying to attack an adult cat, and even if it did manage to kill one, a cat would never be killed without putting up a hell of fight and making a lot of noise. In fact about a year ago Christine and I were sitting in front of the telly when we suddenly heard the most frightning sound you could imagine. And when I went out I saw Thomas fighting with a fox indeed, until I chased it away. Above all, cats are the most excellent climbers (remember my post "Thomas the mountaineer", October 2010) and will usually escape from any attack from a fox or wild dog unharmed. Then, we were thinking about cat's season. Around this time of the year male cats will go out on a trip, looking for the ladies. But Thomas has been spared so also this theory seems very unlikely, meaning that he would not likely disappear for a week and go that far that he wouldn't hear our cries anymore. Another frightning theory is the one of the hunters putting traps or venom. Also truffle seekers dear to spread venom in order to kill the dogs of hunters - the two can't stand the sight of eachother. But also this sounds pretty unlikely because in that case we should have found him, or at least traces of him. And who would put a trap late in the evening and return very early the next morning in order to see if it caught anything? Well... I don't know, it sounds very far fetched. Then there is the car accident. But again no trace and none of the vets have seen him. Or perhaps someone realised that Thomas has a pedigree, caught him and kept him or tried to sell him? Good luck! Thomas is extremely shy of strangers and only comes to Christine and I. Whenever we have guests he's the first to disappear and will only return after they have gone. And it must have happened during the night because the evening before we still saw him. I've checked on eBay and all of the Italian announcement websites, but no Thomas. In any case, he's been chipped and all of the vets have his number. 

And now... it's been a week. My little buddy has gone, god knows whereto. Because that's who he is... my little buddy. My very best friend. Always well-humoured, always greeting me or wanting to be with me, with his "windscreen-wiper" tail... Thomas... I miss you. Please, wherever you are, come home.    

News and Special Offers!

Hello Italy lovers!

I've just finished a couple of changes to our website: from now on you'll find an extra button with news, special events and special offers! Do you want to find out what we have in store for our Valentine guests? Click in order to find out! :-)

www.bb-lastella.it

Ciaooo!

Black Gold

What do you think of when you hear the expression "black gold"? Let me guess... oil? Hmmm... WRONG! :-) How long have people been drilling for oil? One hundred years? One hundred and fifty? Right here, in the area of Reggio Emilia and Modena and nowhere else in the world, a liquid has been made for THOUSANDS of years which is so exquisite and so beyond words that kings have been fighting over it. The earliest written mention of this particular liquid dates from the year 1047 when Holy Roman emperor Henry III ordered a silver case containing this liquid... clear evidence that even a thousand years before the invention of the internet and the iPad this liquid was already seriously famous far beyond the Emilian boundaries. 

Now, which liquid am I talking about, you might ask?... Haven't you got any clue yet?... It's black... dense, like a syrup and soooo sour-sweet... It's the true Balsamic vinegar! No, please, forget the wishy-washy black dishwashing water you can buy in your local supermarket! The biggest European factory of so-called "Balsamic" vinegar apparently lies in... Naples, more than 600km away from Reggio Emilia! And do you know where the biggest factory in the world is situated?... In China for heaven's sake! Imagine that! Balsamic vinegar made in China! No, no, no!!! Please, do not mistake this horrible product with the real stuff. In any case, once you've tasted the real Balsamic vinegar, you'll never settle for anything less again, I can assure you. 

Why am I telling you all of this? Christine is very active on Twitter, trying to make some publicity for our B&B. And after a while she became quite close with a whole bunch of other "Twitterers" from this region. So they decided to organise a big lunch in order to get to know eachother in person and obviously we wanted to be there as well. It was in fact held yesterday and for a venue they had chosen the vinegar factory of Andrea, one of the participants, in the Reggio Emilia valley. So apart from an excellent lunch and making a lot of new friends, we also got a very interesting visit of the vinegar factory. :-)

Balsamic vinegar can only be made with must from the Lambrusco or Trebbiano grapes, vines that only grow in this region. The grapes for the Balsamic vinegar come from dedicated vineyards, so no Lambrusco wine is made with them. The must is boiled for up to thirty hours, evaporating about thirty to seventy percent of the liquid, and is then left to ferment in these barrels, exclusively made from oak wood. 

After the fermentation process, the vinegar is moved upstairs, to smaller barrels and there it is laid to rest. These barrels are in fact open on top (covered by a piece of cloth to prevent dust or dirt getting in) because the liquid in the vinegar must be allowed to evaporate slowly over the years. 

After a year, the vinegar is then poured into a smaller barrel... and the year after into an even smaller barrel and so on. The liquid becomes ever more dense and concentrated. 

The whole process takes at least seven to eight years... for the lowest quality product! The better-quality vinegar is at least twelve to even twenty-five years old ("gold label")! The picture below is a 100ml flask of "gold-label", costing... €105! But I can assure you, we've had a small taste of this exceptional vinegar during desert (as a condiment to ice-cream!) and... it is well worth it! Really, it tastes like heaven!

Real Balsamic vinegar can not be sold in your local store in flasks bigger than 100ml and must have the inscription "tradizionale" ("traditional") on its label. And of course, only originates from this small area. If you ever get the chance to taste the real stuff, please don't hesitate. And for those of you who're considering a stay in our little B&B, we can arrange a factory visit! :-)  http://www.acetaiasangiacomo.com

 

Good intentions for 2012

We all do it, don't we? Making good intentions for the new year... Sadly most of these good intentions water down after already a few weeks and we give in too easily to our old, bad habits. But for this new year I've made a solemn vow which I intend to keep: to spend more time with Christine. It sounds a bit weird, doesn't it? We're living here together, almost completely isolated on our Italian hill and yet we don't seem to have enough time for eachother. But I must admit that I've been neglecting her a bit because I was so terribly busy doing other things, such as writing my second novel, moderating an autism forum and... dare I say it... Facebook. I, who'd never give in to the Facebook hype and always considered it to be a stupid way of spending your time. But eventually I fell for it because of my book and all the people who suddenly wanted to hear my advice. Up to the point that a lot of my time was in fact consumed by replying to all of these questions and participating in all of these autism groups. Fortunately, I discovered in time that a lot of what's going on in those groups is not very nice at all. Some people even tried to intrude into our private lives, there was a hacking attempt on our PC and have I mentioned all of the backstabbing yet? No, I firmly decided I would no longer have any part in that and now I seldomly appear on Facebook again. Perhaps it's a pity for all of these good people who appreciated me and to whom I could be of some help. But the price Christine and I had to pay was simply too high. From now on I've decided to concentrate on us being happy... go out a bit more... go hiking or any other fun activity we can do together. 

Christine, I love you more than anything else on this Earth and I'll keep doing my very best to make you happy. <3 <3 <3

End of the year wrap up

First of all, I'd like to offer my sincerest apologies to all of my loyal readers for not having written any new posts for a while. Yes, I've been awfully busy, e.g. finishing my new book which I hope to be able to offer to my editor by New Year. Hmmm... it's going to be tight. Then there was the lecture I was invited to do about autism more then a week ago. Unfortunately the organiser, founder of a major Flemish autism organisation, got terribly ill and the whole event had to be cancelled. Well, I already had my flight tickets so I took the occasion to visit my family in stead. For what it's still worth, I prepared a little movie for my lecture, in order to let the audience feel what it's like to be autistic. I've uploaded it on Youtube and if you like you can see it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V90Eh3g-umY&feature=g-upl&context=G265a57eAUAAAAAAAAAA

Well, what do you think? Horrible, isn't it? I hope that it will do away with the incessant remarks that we get in the sense that we "exaggerate" or the invariable "come on and get your chin up's". Believe me, this movie is very realistic as already testified by a great number of autistic people who got a preview. 

So, it's that time of the year again. The time to review what has been and to look forward to what is to come. 2011 has been a real rollercoaster for me with very high ups but also with a few very low downs. It was the year of my breakthrough as an author, which brought me in many of the national newspapers and even on television. But fame, even in the very limited form which I was to enjoy, has its inevitable downside. There are always people who'll try to abuse your trust and since I'm so terribly naive I often let people take advantage of me. That's one big lesson I had to learn for the umpteenth time and I'll definitely do my best next year to not let it happen again. Even though this will undoubtedly lead me to live an even more secluded life. It's a true pity because there are also a lot of people out there who genuinely appreciate me and the actions I take to promote more understanding for my autistic brothers and sisters. I'm so sorry for them, but I just have to be more careful.  

2011 has also seen the beginning of my career as an English teacher and it looks like I'll do a lot more of that next year. Yet another secondary school contacted me and there are even plans for an English summer camp in June. But I'll tell you more about that later when things are more definite.

But in general, 2011 was the year in which Christine and I truly became an integral part of the Italian social life here in the Emilian mountains and when we were embraced as fellow inhabitants of this gorgeous region. It's astonishing what a bit of good will can achieve... just trying to speak the language, even if we still make a lot of mistakes, just trying to blend in and respect the original culture of the local people, participating in the social events... it all takes you a long way and the local people return your efforts tenfold. The result is that we now have more friends over here than Christine and I probably had during our entire lifetime in Belgium and that we are very much appreciated for the new things that we've brought with us, such as Christine's delicious cakes and my English lessons. We celebrated Christmas eve with the local people, at a hostel of one of our closest Italian friends. Christine offered to do all of the cooking so that our friend, for the first time in her life, could truly enjoy Christmas without having to do all of the work. It was a bit of a culture shock for our friends because Christine wanted to offer them a taste of Flemish cuisine. Italians are generally not eager to try something from beyond their boundaries so she took a bit of a risk there. But everything she prepared, from the dried plums with bacon, the scallops with mashed peas and basil, the sellery-salmon-blue cheese soup, the Flemish "witloof" (chicory) with fried potatoe mash in an almond crust and chicken rolls stuffed with mince/onions/raisins, dressed with a port-fig sause up to the cheese pie desert... it was devoured like they haden't eaten in months.

Needless to say that Christine are now truly settled here and that we never ever want to go anywhere else anymore.

Merry Christmas everyone, and we wish you all of the best for 2012!!!

The master-decorator

Something I forgot to mention yesterday... When Christine was making her buiscuits, she got a little help from Flora, the master-decorator. Flora was so enthusiastic about it that she even did a bit of decorating on herself... :-)

The Christmas Fair

Yesterday Christine and a close friend organised the first Christmas Fair in the whole region. These types of fairs may be a major happening in some countries and especially in Germany, in Italy they haven't caught the Christmassy bug yet. Christine thought that she had to change all that and together with one of our very best Italian friends she went for it. The venue would be the small town of Casalino di Ligonchio, even higher up the mountains than where we live but a very cosy little place indeed. In the end there were seven stalls, but actually our stall counted for three because Christine sold her home-made buiscuits, I sold my special egg/honey brandy and we olso put a lot of Christmassy stuff on offer for a local shop, the owners of which couldn't be present unfortunately. 

For many days, Christine worked day and night making and decorating her special buiscuits: 

Here's our little stall:

In the afternoon quite a number of visitors showed up, not really by the hundreds but still a few dozen. Not bad for a first-time event in such a little town. Christine and her friend are determined to do better next year and make the Christmas Fair grow little by little. The comments were all very positive so that's what counts the most, isn't it?

Some more of her buiscuits... Christine was surprised at how much of them she eventually sold because she didn't want to sell them very cheaply after all the work she had put into them. But her work was obviously appreciated... :-)

And this is the special brandy I made, after an old, traditional, Flemish recipe. It's called "Advokaat" in Flemish and it's actually a kind of sweet and thick liquor which goes very well with fruit, cake, ice-cream, pancakes or other sweet dishes, or on its own of course. The local people loved it so much that at the end of the afternoon I was completely sold out! :-)

At the end of the day we were both exhausted, especially Christine because she had worked so hard for this. But we left with a deep sense of happiness because her efforts to bring some life into this region were appreciated a lot by everyone. It was fun, it was cosy and we did good trade, so what else should one wish for? Roll on next year!!!

Free as a bird

What is more beautiful than absolute freedom? The endless possibilities without restraints or shackles, the World at your feet and dreams coming true… Unfortunately absolute freedom is a utopia. It is said that someone’s freedom ends where someone else’s begins, and rightfully so because we are all entitled to our own little place, both physically and in our world of thought. Therefore we humans have created rules and laws in order to safeguard everybody’s freedom to the maximum extent and to set clear boundaries. As such it is guaranteed – at least in theory – that everyone enjoys exactly the same amount of freedom. But there’s the rub for people with autism, because we often demand more from our environment than we are entitled to by the written or unwritten rules. Let me illustrate this with a small example. When I was still in the Air Force, I shared the same room with about ten other blokes and this was a disaster to me. After these tiring days I absolutely needed rest in order to be able to process the events of the day. But I wasn’t allowed that and in the room the law of the strongest prevailed, meaning that those who had the least need for sleep decided when the lights went out and when everything would be quiet. Not seldom this was way past midnight and since we had to be up on our feet again by six, there was not a lot of sleep in it for me. Not only are six ours way too few for me, but the constant frustration because of the incessant noise in the room drove me som ad that I couldn’t sleep anyway anymore when things eventually settled down. When I asked for a bit of understanding (obviously in those days I couldn’t think of anything else than arguing that I just needed more sleep) I was scorned at and my motion for silence was outvoted all against one. “Democracy”, they used to call that and I was to respect it.

Now I realise that if we want to take the need for more “breathing space” into account in our society for people with autism, or people with a different condition, that this has its consequences for the others, who’ll hence have to give in on their freedom. Like in my example not being allowed to talk anymore or put on the lights after let’s say ten, even if they’re all still wide awake and still have so many things to say. This will undoubtedly lead to frictions, directed at the “privileged person”. Frankly, I don’t think that any autistic person would actually want to be “privileged”. We attach to much value to fairness for everyone so this would most certainly make us feel bad.

But what is the solution then? A solution which doesn’t take away any freedom from anyone and yet will satisfy everyone? Honestly, I don’t know. What I can say is that we, the autistic people, claim the freedom which we can’t get in this harsh world in another, more cunning way: we create our own world in our thoughts and dreams. It’s the perfect catalyst to undo all the frustrations which we are subject to on a daily basis, the impenetrable defence mechanism which protects us from an overdose of stimuli and at the same time becomes our image of a better world, a world which is tailored to our needs and which we desire so much to become reality one day. Alas, also that is a utopia. But this will not stop me from growing wings and fly off into the deep blue sky, far away to a place where nothing or nobody can still touch me. And there I find peace, while I see the mountains and forest slide past below me. I understand that I’ve been very lucky so far because I can get pretty close to my dream. Like I described in my previous post, whenever things get too hectic for me, I can run away to a high and nearby mountain top. A place where you truly don’t hear anything anymore and the infinite grandness of this World stares you in the face. Mountains and valleys… yes, even the Mediterranean you can see from up there and if the weather’s cooperating, you can even make out Corsica on the horizon. Deep below me I see the tiny little villages, and the little winding roads on which cars the size of ants crawl on. That part of the World that makes my senses go berserk. And I look down upon it, from my mountain top, so far away from it all, and I can feel all of my worries slide off my shoulders. I wish so hard that also all of the other people with autism could find such a place of their own. Is that too much to ask for? I don’t thinks so. What if we started right now with that project? Let’s vote, us, the autistic people, and let us claim this right. The right for one place for each and every autistic person, especially chosen by him or her, where we can finally find peace and where we – at least in our thoughts – can truly be free.

Some time on my own

What's the number one thing that autistic people really crave for? Yes! You guessed correctly! It's... REST! Peace and tranquility in order to absorb and process the horror of these thousands of information pulses that we are subjected to in the real world. Hence our decision to start a new life in the Italian mountains, a place where I can truly come to terms with who I am so that I can build up enough energy to face the unavoidable contact with busy society. 

Unfortunately, however, living isolated on a hill is sometimes not enough. From time to time there are still tensions and messages from the outside world which haunt me and sometimes even drive me completely balmy. When that happens, there is only one remedy: fleeing, as fast and as far as possible. Lucky enough for me, there are places here where I can flee to. Places where I'm not going to be disturbed, where there's no noise, no social clutter and chitchat, only peace. What about the summit of Mount Cavalbianco (1855m), for instance? It's the highest peak I've visited so far, at a time when I really needed it. 

I know that I have to consider myself very fortunate that I can do this. Many of my autistic brothers and sisters have no way out and can only scream at the walls that surround them. Yes, I truly am very lucky. Then again, I'm not feeling guilty at all about it. I've tried my utmost to blend in into society and to contribute to it, for twenty years until I eventually collapsed. So I see it that now society owes me. And I will keep up my struggle until society realises that it owes the same to my brothers and sisters too.

Some pictures I took during my yourney...