WPC: Purity of intent

Before taking me with him to Italy three plus years ago, amore signed a letter of intent and gave it to my parents. Don’t know about you, but I’d circle “impressed”.

Sometimes we come back and then it’s time to “discover my immediate neighbourhood” as we did in primary school when I started it 40 years ago. This time it was surprisingly basic, almost pure.

You see, before moving to Italy I’d been living in the same street all my life. The only thing I managed was move a few houses down the street from my parents to another apartment they own.

I invite you to come along as if it’s your first time. This is Bežigrad district. The city of Ljubljana. The state of Slovenia. (Still Yugoslavia when I was growing up.) As hardcore a childhood as it gets.

See? The first thing we saw: a rather violently attacked tree.

But most were still standing just as I remember them.

This is where I used to ski, walk the first dog and smoke my first… things. There is a nuclear shelter underneath.

Except the little no-parking pillars and colour, everything is still very much like in the 70’s.

Including this ominous boiler room. Where nothing ever happens.

My school! A full five-minute walk away. France Bevk Primary School, named after young adult writer. On a garage nearby it was written for a longest time: “Bevk rules.”

I don’t remember it quite so colourful, rooms have been added, but the shape is still very much as it was 40 years ago when I started my forced education.

These houses stand immediately opposite school. I had a classmate who used to live in one of these. I could not imagine how it must have been like to have your school in your face all days long.

Well taken care of.

This is Slovenian national tree: lime, linden or Tilia. Great for tea.

Another branch ready to come down.

And one already down. And this is where I got it: it was this year’s snow in April that did it.

Told ya.

And this is how I used to come home every day. Our house is on the left. Little did I know that once there will be a Romano and a bestia to take home far away.

Behind these hornbeam and hazelnut leaves lies my uncle’s garden where we have tournaments and which I’ll show you in another post.

And this is where mom would be waving often. Or at least some laundry. Or a flag, if it was a holiday.

On another, sunnier day we walked in the opposite direction, to where there are new buildings by the major road. Here bestia had spotted me before amore did.

Amore told me that he was sitting on the woman while waiting. More about the woman – the statue behind Ljubljana’s World Trade Center – in a weekend post for Suvi’s Saturday Statues Challenge.

I’d just die if everything was this way. What is happening to modern architecture? Or modern cars, since it’s somewhat similar?

But luckily we still have our Blue Velvet street.

Isn’t it reminiscent of the house where that ear was found in the grass in David Lynch film?

I might be jovial about it but it was a lovely stroll down the memory lane. Full of trees and flowers, and lacking in inquisitive glances. Right by me.

Photo: a © signature mmm production

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: Pure