Pregnancy Cycle More Condition_symptoms

"That was always the Mediterranean, it was enough to give a little 'of attention to the faint memory recall: oil and red wine, Islam and the Talmud, crosses, cypress pine, tombs, churches, crimson sunsets as blood, white sails in the distance, stones worked by men and time, that particular hour of noon when the quiet and the silence was broken only by the chirping of cicadas, night in the light of a bonfire piled with wood adrift, while the moon slowly rose above a sea islands without water. It also skewers of sardines, bay leaves and olives, watermelon peels floating on the gentle sway vespertino quiet of the beach, the sound of pebbles in the surf in the morning, boats are painted with blue, white and red, launched on beaches with mills in ruins and olive gray , gilded grapes on trellises. And the shelter of their own shadow, her eyes lost in the intense stretching to the east, the sea looked real estate men, sunburned and bearded heroes knew of shipwrecks in bays designated by cruel gods, fake statues mutilated asleep, with open eyes, a silence of centuries. "


Arturo Perez-Reverte Pontina on at sunset, Latin night on a vintage black beetle in the direction of the Sea. The games in the evening, laughter, hundreds of photographs, tobacco & beer. The early morning breakfast at the bar with you. Sweatshirts and shorts. Themselves to be absolutely free and brilliant, who knows how many miles from home in the midst of "unknown" you always seem to know.
So the sailor's bag is filled with other memories, other experiences and good wind to breathe out when the air is still.
Arremba life as a pirate . With proper light, ironically, with a smile. Balancing the melancholy, without ever flunk a challenge or a proposal. Close leggermente gli occhi e affidarsi all'istinto, al proprio equilibrio. Trovare più di quanto si cercava, mai per caso ma

sempre per scelta . Schiena dritta, al timone sul ponte.

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Wind Sound

The white foam against the gray rocks and the expanse of the harbor swept by a gentle breeze. The bow of the canoe cuts through the waves, the size, the cross as certain memories through our thoughts. But in an instant and everything passes quickly, as my constant paddling. Right, left, breathe, keep a steady rhythm. Gait. The struggle continues against the instability of the half, the vastness of the Sea, the insolence of the waves. The sun and salt on your skin so you "peel the sailor." Concentrate, every muscle called to order, stretched his legs, his arms outstretched. The speed increases as the beating of the heart. Burn the city under the setting sun, burning bright colors and alive as my love for this sea and land.
'I ground. The sport we
slams face in the struggle of every day, that of life. If you hesitate, you fall into the water. If you're afraid to try, never reach the open sea to enjoy the colors and unique sensations. The only battles lost are those that choose not to fight. No such failure is never absolute and the same applies to the victories. why you should never stop, except to take the right momentum and the wave better. Will and perseverance, such as hardened steel. The future belongs to those who dare to conquer.
[
Challenge. And if it is hard not to like it].


Photo: Sunset at Catania from the quay, taken by the Captain.

Leg Problems More Condition_symptoms

Old sailors' tales


I sniff the air trying to figure out the weather. E 'on June 1 but it could be October 1. I hold her in a scarf while I go down to the studio and if I look in the mirror I see my thoughts that I follow suit.
Hell is around corner. How about a swing pass from ups and downs, smiles and shadows. Walking on the bridge with the boat rolls. But this is the life of a seaman, and if you also choose to accept. not enough, sometimes, to think that in a few weeks we start, not enough, no need, when you are smart enough to understand that a place is just a different frame of a picture that is actually sempre lo stesso.
Io . A volte così ingombrante. Ma in fondo, se così non fosse, sono certo che mi annoierei. Proprio perché credo nella scelta, nella volontà . Il gusto della sfida. Non esistono situazioni di cui non essere all'altezza. Non mi sono mai arreso senza combattere. Anzi, forse, non mi sono mai arreso. Neanche da sconfitto. Per questo sorrido ancora.

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Che gli errori si pagano l'ho imparato presto, as a child. Learning from mistakes, instead, to learn not to make always the same, no, that's always been more complicated. But some do not die for so little. You change to the maximum, you will draw yet another wrinkle in the face and they close themselves off more and more itself but does not die. The sun heats up, but the sun burns, too. Breaks the skin, making it dry. In order to be in the sun without burning need to have a hard rind. It or have it in time, of course. The items always
and never

should not exist, yet at times I would. There are chests as vases Pandora: you should throw them into the sea, double-locked, that even the devil can find them. Accept the risk of opening them has not made heroes.