Thrawn the old man's beard won out in the end

As the sun sinks ever lower in the south eastern quadrant hardly deigning to warm the monks and nuns at La Verna the old man's beard stubborn to the last wins out catching and holding and spreading and folding the fleeting dawn light.

I took windows to the glazier - in Italy they slot the glass into the frame.

I bought single *Speyside* malt from Lidl's for €12. It's not bad at all.

I dug a hole in the barn fireplace to lower the clearance of a wood stove we inherited as we prepare for Phase II of the bulding works.

I reflected on the wee tremor I felt the other night that was neither stroke nor indigestion but the distant hammer of the 4.5 magnitude earthquake that hit the Mugello, the lovely valley of the Arno tributary, the Sieve, not far from us or Florence. 600 people in the epicentre towns - Barberino, S Piero a Sieve, Galliano, Borgo San Lorenzo and Scarperia - are sleeping in cars and tents tonight as their houses are assessed for damage. Its cold and a hungry east wind is blowing.