E.T. at the Bicoca

Love does remarkable things. The first day, I slept a lot. Then I understood I was on vacation, and I lay down and waited for Alessandro to wake up. I had hot milk and cake that Katia made. I went to the pool even though I didn't feel like it, and I was drying off in the sun when the cat and dog surrounded me. Around one o'clock I ate with whoever was there from camp—there weren't many of us. I was sorry the girls weren't there. But then I had good days; I was at the thermal baths lying down, I went horseback riding, that was the best thing I did. Federico was there, and Pietro, and Bigari too, walking with his tablet in the pool. I didn't talk much—maybe I caught a chill. Now and then we heard music, but something felt off. I followed the story of E.T.: when he got drunk and the boy was drunk at school, that's empathy. I already knew the movie a bit. While helicopters were flying over us too, I thought they're looking for him here. The most beautiful scene is the one with the bicycles, and he calls home, at the moment of the diplomas. I made gnocchi—there was a lady overseeing each step, the ball and the little snake and the cutting. I ate the red pizza with toppings we made ourselves. It was a surprise when I saw Costanza coming back, and then Anna Maria and Stefano with Daniele. In the end I was good, I like being there because I find the landscape I left behind so many years ago. The lesson of E.T. is that sooner or later they take him away; the character doesn't excite me much anymore, maybe because I was small when I watched it. I was fine. Everyone was composed even though some people yell and some stay quiet—I lived well. I'm almost sorry it's over.