Last night I was on the verge on a collapse: I had filled four big cardboard boxes, the last memory of old computers, fans and printers already sent to the old faithful machines' heaven. Yet, I still had three big heaps on the floor, awaiting to be put on the recently liberated bookshelves. The problem is that with the internet I didn't substitute the good old books, but added spiralled reams of printings of e-books and VERY interesting articles, etc. The poets who invented the old myth about Hercules' twelve labors, hadn't seen my room, otherwise they'd have wickedly figured a 13th labor for him. Possibly, my room is better thought of as a Sisyphus' labor, the guy who brought a boulder up to the top of a mountain only to see it run down again. I remember that, when I first read this story at the primary school, I gave deep thought to the way I could cheat the gods, if I were Sisyphus ;D) This photo was taken on a wintry afternoon in the outskirts of Padova. It's one of the gateposts of a Renaissance castle. Thank you for your kind comments.