Page 24 - Feuilletez-a life, my Life, my path

Herding goats and sheep in Italy

father always put two or three fish in it. When we went
there on holiday, that was the first thing he checked. If the
fish were alive, he concluded that the water was drinkable.

My sister was born in 1949. That year, to be able to benefit
from electricity and replace the use of oil lamps, each family
had to pay for the installation of poles and lines. Few houses
had been built outside the village. Ours was the furthest
away, more than 150 m from the one before it. The direct
cost to my parents was substantial, but they were able to find
the funds to cover the expense.

My father was a handyman. He worked “by the day” in the
fields to mow the wheat at harvest time or on the main road

breaking up stones. On special request, he would climb the
high branches of the big oak trees to girdle the acorns that
fed the pigs. He told me that he sometimes spent several
hours doing this, only to end up, as payment, with a bottle of
oil that was always a centimetre or two short of the neck. He
liked to remind me that he was one of the few people in San
Giovanni Lipioni who could say that he had eaten in every
house in the village, because everyone asked for him.
Life wasn't easy in those days. Harvesting took place at
the end of July and beginning of August, the hottest time of
the year. In this region of Italy, the sunny days begin in
March-April and last until October-November. The hottest
months are July-August, with temperatures in the high 30s,
and as high as 35-36°C. Despite these conditions, people
worked almost from sunrise to sunset. In the countryside

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