October 1
This month starts off cool. We go to Terni to see if we can find faucets for our new bathroom vanity and sink. On the way to the Edificio Hydraulico, we are stopped in traffic. A policeman is diverting traffic, and out my window I see a huge mercato. This is the weekly market in Terni, and of course we must take a side trip and check it out.

What an experience! There must be a hundred stalls, almost everything under €10. except the shoes, which are not much more. Two dozen roses for €3. Zip up wool sweaters for €8 each. We each buy a sweater and I find a pair of black watch plaid slip-in slipper-shoes for €6. A long braid of beautiful red onions for €4. Fish vendors, porchetta vendors, fruit and vegetable vendors, and clothing of all kinds. Towels, embroidered sheets, kitchenware, wicker baskets, real birds and puppies and hamsters and turtles. This is an amazing market. We will come again!

Three plumbing supply stores later, we cannot find the faucets I want. Later in the day, we remeasure and start to think that finding the right sink may be a problem.

October 2
I go for an x-ray for my neck and right shoulder, and it costs €36.90 at the Orte hospital. I pay in advance and get a computerized ticket. Then I go to the radiology room down the hall, which is not more than a waiting room. I press a buzzer and the door opens. A woman takes my paperwork and about five minutes later a scruffy looking young man opens the door and beckons me inside. I think it is a joke. He is wearing a brown striped sweater and is chewing gum. No white jackets anywhere....I see an x-ray machine that looks as though it was built before WWII. Along the walls are boxes and boxes stacked to the ceiling of supplies. I have no idea what they are for...There are just dimension numbers in black marker on the sides.

He tells me to take off my glasses and then my shirt. I am thinking they should be playing some kind of "Help me make it through the night..." music in the background. I do what he asks and he then unhooks the gold cross from around my neck. There is a young woman standing by him just looking. He brings me up to the x-ray machine and tells me to step up on a platform. In about five minutes it is over and five minutes later he tells me to get dressed and shows me the x-rays. They look fine, and I can return on Saturday to pick them up. Nothing major is wrong, so I walk back to the Duomo and find Roy and Sofi just arriving in the car.

We go to Marco Ottaviani's house, for Roy to remeasure the new piece of furniture. He has so many dogs, and I am unable to get out of the car with Sofi. We stay huddled inside while a big Maremanna dog licks his chops at the window beside me. Ten minutes later Roy appears, pleased that we will have more room than he thought, but no enough room to get a regular sized sink.

We go to Tessicini in Lugnano to look for a piece of marble for the bathroom vanity, and Franco helps us. He remembered us from five years ago, when he helped us with our kitchen counters. We bit off a big challenge with this piece of furniture...It may not be deep enough for a regular sink. He helps us to design the counter, and gives us a really inexpensive price. Marble does not cost a great deal here, but then again, it is the land of marble...

As is our custom, we drive around and around to find just the right components. Franco advises us to drive to Civita Castellana, south of us. He calls it the Mother City of ceramica. That means sinks and tubs and toilets and bidets...Surely we can find what we want there. We will then call Marco and ask him to add a panel on each side of the piece to give it added depth. We have worked it out carefully and it will look as though it was made to be a sink base. We really enjoy this kind of project.

At home, I practice the violin while Enzo Rosati comes to do his annual inspection of the hot water heater. He brings a vacuum cleaner and tools. Roy thinks it is a kind of a sham, because he gives us a receipt, spends fifteen minutes cleaning out the back of the heater, and then charges us €28. If he does that at every house in the area he'll do really well...Sometimes we stranieri are too cynical and suspicious. Perhaps he is performing a good service. Anyway, Sofi likes him. He stops and gently strokes her until he has her confidence and then has her shake his hand with her paw. She is smitten.

This morning before going to Orte, we stop at the Attigliano weekly market and buy a fish called Spigola. It is a fleshy white fish, and we ask the fish monger to clean it. He scales it and cuts off the heat and tail. That's about it. So just before dinner Roy steps in and cuts off the gills and the big bone in the center. We think that although the fish is very tasty, we will probably order fish in restaurants from now on unless we come upon someone who will actually clean the fish for us. I am not sure I want to learn how to clean a fish. Somehow the romance of it all is lost on me.

Felice saw us as we drove up this morning, and told us that he prepared the land near the peach tree to plant broccoletti. It needs to be planted "after the twentieth of the month"...so that must mean the phase of the moon will be right. Roy likes broccoli, so we will do that. Did I tell you that the pepperoni looks excellent and the sedano (celery) is delicious? I had no idea that celery could be so tasty, just cut. The rugghetta has bounced back and we are hoping it will escape the little bugs earlier in the year.

October 3
Found some tiny tiny black bug in the rugghetta, so sprayed a tiny bit of soap and water to see if we could "clean it/them out". Catharine gave us some chard and finocchio, so we will plant that in a day or so. We wanted overcast weather for so long, and it is here. The air is heavy and the clothes do not want to dry. They seem to lazily want to hang out on the drying rack all day. That is fine with me.

We are renting DVD's at night, and our first one from the Attigliano shop we rented last night is a black and white Fail Safe. What a creepy plot! It is fairly new, but shot in Playhouse 90 style. The time seemed so na•ve compared to what is going on now.

Cut it out, Arnold. We are sick of hearing about you here, so can imagine what it is like on the TV and in the newspapers at home. Bob Kalsey refers us to a website to check out: http://www.arnoldlifestyle.com. What are you people doing back there? We leave and you start fumbling around with the economy and won't take any responsibility. Then you want this guy for governor. I should talk. Our Prime Minister actually thinks he's a comedian. He is a joke. I'll admit that. Now that I think of it, who in their right mind would run for political office? And what does that mean for all us sheep?

We drove to Civita Castellana and found a sink at the first place we stopped. We found our faucets at the second place. We were able to take the sink home but the faucets will take a week. Civita Castellana has so much porcelain that we probably had hundreds of factories to choose from. We realized that we need a standard sized sink, and will add side panels to the back of the sink piece, instead. The piece of marble will be a great fit on top. Roy will meet with Marco to work out the details...without Sofi and me. The other day when we drove to his house, Sofi and I were held prisoners in the car, surrounded by drooling huge white maremenna dogs, while Roy went inside to confer with Marco.

Tonight we rented the movie, Freda about Freda Kahlo, artist and wife of Diego Rivera. Selma Hayek's performance was stellar. I even stayed awake for it.

October 4
We pick up my x-rays (the Italians call them R-X) from the hospital in Orte and will take them next week to Dottoressa. I think she will set up some rehabilitation appointments for me. I also get my hair done...a great job for an amazing €35. While I am waiting for my hair to take in the color, I am able to have an actual conversation in Italian with Daniele's mother and a woman from Sippiciano about our car theft. This woman's car (a Volvo) was stolen in the same manner as ours, from the plaza in Sipicciano, a town ten minutes from Mugnano. She was also gassed. The carabineri were no help. She knew about us, and we shared condolences.

We spend the entire afternoon and evening at home, and it is a joy. The birds of spring have returned, warbling in the nespola trees. Sofi and I spend an hour or two next to the lavender garden. I manicure two boxwood that appear to have died from the summer heat. Slowly, slowly, I cut away the dead leaves, and they both show new growth. It is a painstaking job, but the results are excellent. Next week Mario will take out all the lavender...except for a few scattered around the garden, the plants in the lavender field are dead, dead, dead. They are starting to look ridiculous in their prissy round globes of dead stalks. Felice will scatter dichondra seeds in two areas, and we will see if we can have a ground cover below the big olive tree and under the trees by the front fence.

We receive an email from Suzanne Ciani, who will be in Italy in a week. It will be good to see here again, and to take a trip up to Lucca with Sofi.

October 5
It's Sunday, and the air feels like a towel on the line that refuses to dry. We drive up to church and the church is full. Relatives in town...There must be great pranzos all around the village today. Giuliola comes in and appears taller than ever, perhaps because she comes over to us before mass and puts her arm around me. She is a gentle giant, and tells us about some kind of festivities in Soriano on Friday and Saturday. She wants us to get dressed up in some kind of medieval costumes...We agree but must go up to see Giuliola and Livio this week to take a look at what we have agreed to put on.

After church, I comment on Elena's black leather jacket. It looks very much like my gray one, and she puts her arm around me and tells Roy we are twins (gemelli). I agree, and point to our blonde hair and say, "naturale" and she laughs. She points to my eyes, which are brown, and hers, which are a blue-gray...Whatever does that mean? We have some fun trying to communicate and then Roy and I get in the car to go home to pick up Sofi.

We drive to a town north of Spoleto, but pass many signs on the superstrada for a trattoria, so we take Sofi there for pranzo. The man at the front desk asks us if she will behave. Magari! I say to myself. We are put in a corner behind a big screen. The food is so mediocre that I do not eat my papparadelle with tartuffo. It tastes watery and, well, tasteless. Roy likes his pranzo, a strozzopretti pasta arribiatta (spicy) and that pleases me. Sofi is kept quiet below me with pieces of bread. A seeing-eye dog comes in with his owner. They are seated next to us and Sofi barks two barks. She does not understand that the dog will ignore her. Luckily there are some very noisy children nearby, so our little doggie does not create a stir.

We leave the restaurant and it starts to pour. Sofi is put in back and she burrows into the carryon we have for her, going to sleep. We drive north past Spoleto to an outdoor market in Clittuno. We find an old wicker tray, but it is so wet that most vendors have their wares covered over with plastic cloth. This is not a day conducive to looking around. We get back in the car and drive to Chiusi and then to Sarteano, to see Dorothy and Charlie and Kristin and Dave and their friends. We love the house. When Shirley and Rich rented it with their daughter last year, we fell in love with it. The house is featured in the book, Private Tuscany, and it is rented out for most of the year. No wonder.

October 6
The day dawn clear and bright and cool, but by noontime it is hot and we are able to put up tables and umbrella and get ready to eat outside with Dorothy, Charlie, Kristin, Dave, and Karina, who takes the train up from Rome just for pranzo. Just as they arrive, Austin is coming up the walk to get to his new property, and we greet him. It is strange because he speaks a little English, which is hardly ever spoken at all in Mugnano. Earlier in the morning, Roy drives to Lugnano to meet with Franco about the bathroom sink project.

It is such a warm day that we set up the big square table on the terrace and have to put up the big umbrella to give us shade. After everyone gets a tour, we sit down in the sling chairs on the other side of the front terrace for our welcome spumante and figs from the garden with gorgonzola and slices of chinghale salami.

Then it's time for polenta and for segundi a mixed grill. Peach granita for dessert and cookies from the Sardinian bakery. Lots of wine...Nebbiolo from Piemonte, Vino Nobile from Tuscany, Orvieto Classico from Umbria...

Dave and Charlie take off for a bike ride...a loop to Lugnano...Amelia...Giove and back. It takes them just over two hours. In the meantime, Kristin and Dorothy and Sofi and Roy and I take a walk through the village and come back and hang around. It is good for all ouf us to just relax with each other.

After they leave, we have a quiet evening. Just a snack of dry pecorino cheese with slices of apple and honey and a glass of red wine. We so love sharing our lives with our friends and look forward to seeing them again on Thursday evening at their incredible casale in Sarteano. We will certainly recommend the house to anyone who wants to stay in a fabulous place for a week in Tuscany. Can you imagine...the house even comes with a maid for three hours a day who can also cook. She can prepare meals as a separate charge, and on Thursday her husband will cook a goat on the outdoor grill. We will try to remember to take some pictures. The woman who designed the house has an incredible eye for fabrics. I think she imports them from India. I will find out....

October 7
We drive to the Viterbo market to look for some Porcini mushroom. This is mushroom season, especially after the rain, but we cannot find them. We settle for white mushrooms. Perhaps we will find some tomorrow.

Roy takes me to get a pedicure, and then we go home. It rains and rains. We have cacciatore, made with the leftover chicken and pepper sauce as a base. We watch the move The Others and have a quiet night.

October 1
October 8

Roy encourages me to go to Dottoressa in the village this morning with my x-rays to see what she has to say about my shoulder and arm. The weather starts as overcast but at around nine there is a real shower. At ten, however, the rain stops and the sky is bright blue and very clear. Go figure. Roy wants to eat outside, but we agree that it is not a good idea today. We set the table in the kitchen before driving up to the village.

It takes more than 30 minutes to get in to see Dottoressa, because I am fourth in line, and the couple before me takes so long that the husband even goes out in the middle of their session to get Dottoressa a café. Terzio and Rina grumble, or rather Terzio grumbles and Rina looks up at the heavens and rolls her eyes at the couple still inside with Dottoressa. Terzio leaves angrily. Outside, the weekly mercato is in full swing. There are only three vendors, porchetta and meat, clothes and housewares. But each place has plenty of activity. I am amazed at how much is purchased at these weekly markets.

When it is finally my turn, Dottoressa is in a very good mood. Perhaps it is the café. She looks at my xrays and tells me I have some spine degeneration, which accounts for both my ongoing headaches and pains in my arm and shoulder. She prescribes physical therapy at the hospital in Orte, and I agree to go there after my violin lesson on Friday.

We drive right home afterward, because our next guests are due at l'una. Since we now are invited for dinner tonight at Diego's, we will change the menu to an antipasto and a small risotto. When we are greeting our guests, Austin, (he pronounces it something like Oushtin...he is Norwegian) walks up the walk. As he passes the front gate I look down and ask, "Do you think we give nothing but parties here?" He is very polite and shy and tells me he thinks not. "Well, we do! We will invite you soon!" He is flustered and walks quickly down the path to his new property, not knowing what to think.

I have found a recipe for a simple peach dessert in an Italian cookbook: Cut a peach in half, take out the pit, crumble walnuts in each center and cover the open halves with melted chocolate. Boil equal amounts of sugar and water until the sugar dissolves, and pour a thin coating over the top. I find little round ramekins that just fit the peach halves, and put a little Grand Mariner and a dob of melted chocolate in each one before the peach. I heat the chocolate in the top of a double boiler (we have found bars of extra fondente...dark chocolate... in a market in Amelia) and completely cover the tops of each peach with melted chocolate. I put the filled ramekins on a cookie sheet in the oven and will heat them for 20-30 minutes at 350 while we are eating the risotto.

That done, Roy grates cheese and I fix trays of: bruschetta of tomatoes, garlic, basilico and olive oil on some, olive tapenade on others. Slices of melon with prosciutto, a small dish of marinated anchovies, a few olives, fresh celery from the garden, figs from the garden with gorgonzola, sliced cheese and some of that wonderful chinghiale salami, sliced with toothpics.

For Segundo, we have risotto Milanese (with saffron) and sautéed mushrooms in Madeira wine sauce. Orvieto Classico works fine with the whole meal, although we started before the meal with Brut spumante from the local cooperative. Everything seems to work. The dessert is a big hit.

After pranzo, we take a walk up to the village and by this time (4:30 PM), people are out walking. Sofi wags her tail mightily and seems to dance up the hill. We meet three women who love Sofi and greet here by name. Then Giovanni, then Italo. Italo is coming out of his cantina across the street, and I ask him if the carved pepperino over the cantina is old. He tells me no, so I ask, "Cinque anni fa?" and he nods yes. I ask where Dina, his wife is, and he tells me she is in Rome. "Pobre Italo!" I exclaim, and he shakes his head that he is not sad. "Vacanza per Italo!" I exclaim and everyone laughs. He nods in agreement. We move on.

Strangely, Brik the dog has led our little walk. Ding pats him on the head and he struts as though it is his duty to lead newcomers around the village. He scorns Sofi but slowly does his duty, meandering through the tiny streets with us.

On the way back downhill, we come to the fountain on Via Mameli, where a new group of villagers sit outside. Baschia is there with his master, and Sofi behaves like a saucy lady with him. Everyone laughs. We tell Ding and Paul on the short walk back to our house that the people of our village are very proud of Mugnano. So they love having us walk with our guests, and make sure they greet us with a smile. They all know how much we love the village as well.

Back at home Ding and Paul leave, and we agree that we will see them in a few hours. When we arrive at Diego's converted monastery, where they are staying, the whole place is lit and there is a fire in the enormous fireplace in the great room. We have dinner there, and the only others are a trio at one other table who appear to be from the U.S. As usual, too much food, but we are able to speak with Serena, who leaves tomorrow for cooking school in France with Paul Bocouse (sp?) Diego tells her that after two years she can return and teach him how to cook.

We are a little sad for Ursula, Serena's mother, because Diego and Luciana will drive Serena tomorrow, and Ursula will stay behind. We will call her tomorrow to see how she is. Diego is his usual kind self, but is too busy to spend much time with us. We ask him advice where we should buy our six olive trees for the property next to San Rocco and he tells us not to get them now. They might freeze if they are planted now. Instead, plant them in February. He will give us six if we call him then. We love his olive oil, so his trees must be wonderful. But we certainly don't expect him to give them to us. We will see.

We drive home under an almost full moon. The sky is crisp and clear and the air cold. It is good to get under the down comforter with the window open and drift quickly off to dreamland.

October 9
Roy wants me to go to Orte to see if I can get in without an advance appointment for physical therapy, but the hospital is very confusing. I am told to go upstairs to the right, but there are many closed doors and people sitting out in the hallway. I meekly knock and open a door on the right, only to have a doctor in a white coat behind a desk holler at me and throw me out. He is giving a consultation to a young woman, who leaves soon after. I apologize to her and she tells me to enter.

I make some more profuse apologies, telling him I am a stranieri and am having trouble understanding where I should go. By now I am almost in tears, and he melts and smiles, telling me he understands, sending me down the hallway to an open door to the left. I find someone who wants to know if I have an appointment. All I can do is make an appointment. A young girl in a white coat sits down and opens a huge lined notebook and takes my name and prescription and phone number, writing everything down in this kind of log book. She hands me back my prescription and tells me they will call me in a few weeks. I can do nothing to get them to move up the date. She shows me the long list of people waiting in front of me who have not yet been called.

Back in the car, Roy thinks we should see if our umbrella insurance will cover the physical therapy. Perhaps we should go to the American Hospital in Rome for a consultation. We will check at home to see. We are now thinking like Italians. Since we pay an insurance premium, perhaps we can get some of it back in services.

We go to Michelini in Viterbo to reorder the lavender...forty very small ones. Tiziana tells us that the variety is the typical Italian type, quasi English...quasi French. We know we like it. Our last lavender all came from here as well. We also order one more Lady Hillington rose for the front wall. Sofi is a big hit, as usual, even though in her excitement she piddles on the floor. Lucia tells us we have picked a very unusual name for our dog. She likes it very much, but has never heard a dog called Sofia before. Sofi returns the complement with a big kiss. All the nursery items will be delivered next week. In the meantime, we will get Mario to come and take out the dead lavender and prep the field.

Back at home, we see Austin, the young Norwegian, sitting on the wall across from our cancello. Sofi and I walk over after we park to greet him. He is waiting for someone, and we talk about how much we all love Mugnano. The gentle quietness of it all appeals to him as well. We invite him for pranzo some day next week. He responds, "There is a problem. I am a vegetarian." I reassure him that that is not a problem for us.

He tells me that his choice has nothing to do with food, but he wants to be conscious of the animals. I laugh and remind him that he is wearing a leather belt. He looks down and tells me he is a pragmatist. So I respond that if he is truly a pragmatist, he will eat meat....Our volley is a kind one, and in good spirit. We have a short conversation about what bad gardeners we all are. The good news about his garden is that it is not visible from the street, so if his vegetables don't survive, no one will really know. He is a friendly and somewhat shy young man, and we look forward to getting to know him.

I especially look forward to asking him what color hair he has put on his license. This is the first really bald man I have met whom I can ask. Since receiving those George Carlin jokes, I am so curious to find out if bald men put "niente" on the space where the color of their hair should go.

We make a deep dish peach pie to take to dinner tonight. The peaches we have are large and ripe. So although it is not a particularly Italian dessert, I want to take something home made. And I have no idea what dessert goes with goat......

Giuliola and her niece and another woman we see at church every week come by with my dress for the corteo on Friday and Saturday. It is a simple garment, long and flax colored linen with a gathered top and sleeves and a long sash. There are also brown tights. Gioliola tells me to wear a turtleneck underneath...it will be cold. Roy's costume will be ready tomorrow.

We drive up early and return to Cetano, then take a short walk around Sarteano. Sarteano is lovely. It has a simple tuscan renaissance feel to it, and the little streets are immaculate. Walking by an alimentary, we look in to see fruit so perfect we think we are looking at a huge still-life. Sofi spends most of the time in our arms, as there are many dogs roaming around Sarteano, off-leash. She loves the town anyway.

Rising up out of Sarteano toward Dorothy and Charlie's "hill", we are guided by an almost full moon. The sky is clear and navy-blue, with the moon sitting full-on like a bright yellow hat. We open our windows to take in the snappy crackling sounds and heady scent of burning leaves and Sofi rides the open window like a bowsprit, ears flapping back, nose up, wind blowing her little beard flat across the bottom of her snout.

The house is alive with the sounds of many conversations going all at once. A cacophony of laughter. Romano is at the open fireplace, turning a well-cooked goat carcass, legs akimbo. We are handed glasses of red wine and Sofi darts all around, greeting guests and sniffing the floor.

The peach pie is a good idea. It is one of three desserts, and is given the place of honor, displaying birthday candles for Dorothy and Charlie at dessert. So you probably want to know about the goat. Capreto is what it is called. It does not taste like much of anything...interesting taste, succulent, a kind of grey color. The homemade minestrone first is really tasty, as are the beans in a red sauce.

Everyone makes us feel so at home. We spend much of the time giving ideas to people for the next few days of their trips...Dorothy and Charlie to Sovano, Kristin and other friends back to Florence, others to Orvieto, an idea to go out to the coast instead of spending more time shopping in tourist cities...we feel like guides and it is fun.

Sofi and I sleep on the way back, guided by our excellent driver, who apparently does a fine job. We wake up just as Roy backs into the driveway. We bid goodnight to the jolly moon and go upstairs to dreamland.

October 10
My arm gives me more trouble during the night, and we take my x-rays to Alessandra. She explains them to me...some degeneration...arteriosclerosis of the bones, but the tendons seem to be not what they should. So the good news is that the pain is not from bone problems. She works on me for an hour and tells me to get an x-ray of my left arm and shoulder and not to play the violin for at least a few weeks.

On the rugged drive up the steep hill to Alessandra, we pass a man on a tractor, dropping hay behind him wherever he goes. A little farther on is a very long metal feeding structure, with bars up and down so that cows can get their heads in between the bars to eat. Grass and hay is piled up in front of them. It is a marvelous chorus line of tan and white cows, each one more beautiful than the next. They all look pretty much the same to me. I wonder if I had a whole head of cows (is a group of cows a head?) how I could tell them apart. They seem so content, without a thought why they are being fed so well...

That makes me sad, and we go from there to my violin lesson, where I sit with Tiziana to tell her how sad I am that I will not be able to play for a little while. I have an appt. with Alessandro next Friday, so perhaps I will be on the mend soon. Roy calls the insurance company, and they will not cover rehabilitation treatment without surgery, so we will see if Ofelia will write me a new ticket and we will go to Terni to a place Tiziana recommends. It does not make sense that I wait three weeks or more to get in to a clinic. That is the Italian medical system, however, so we are doing our best to work around it. All in all, the system works fine for us.

Roy picks up his costume from Livio and Giuliola in the afternoon. It is certainly attractive...a tan wool tunic over a white collarless shirt and the same brown tights as mine. With the black belt and sandals Roy will be his usual handsome self. I fear I will look like a washerwoman, but this is a poor village and I will enjoy my role anyway.

We dress and drive up to Soriano, which is lit like the Golden Gate Bridge and stands tall and proud in all its greyness. We park below and take the hundreds of steps... piano, piano to get to the square. We do not see anyone in costume on the way up and no wonder. We come out of a medieval portico in the main square to see...no one in costume except a few folks from Mugnano! Hundreds of people line bleachers and in the center are the same stands we use for the medieval festivals in Mugnano...chestnut vendors, a stall "selling" flour, stalls "selling"...bracelets and necklaces, tiny bottles of grappa, jams and honeys, items of copper, tiny ceramic bowls, Livio's pristine handmade woven baskets...and a stall "selling" fruit and vegetables. We eat a chestnut prepared by Livio and mill around. It is fun. There are about twenty of us from Mugnano, and we are supplying the "local color" for the evening's entertainment.

After about an hour of us milling around, and one of our group even cooking sausages, we hear some announcements and there are several ornate chair set at one end of the square. This is to be a court of some kind, and tied in ropes and held by three soldiers is an accused strega, or witch. Evidently this is an annual event, the trial of the strega, and we are bit players without dialog. Our vegetable stand even becomes a prop for many of the people, who wind up throwing vegetables (mostly lettuce) at the poor woman.

I suppose I am too into the whole scene, for I keep saying "libero!" or "free!" while everyone else hoots and throws things at her. The sound system is very good, and she mouths a mournful song. She is brought to the end of the square where the men are sitting on chairs, and they hound her for awhile, she sings again, tries to run unsuccessfully, is led to a stock, where she is given another chance to repent, and then it is over. She is dragged to the other end of the square (we are following the action all around) and carried up onto a wooden structure piled high with kindling and a gallows. She appears to be tied up, but she has only wound her wrists around the rope. We congregate around her, the others cheering and I just in disbelief. (If I could, I would have helped her escape, but that is not written in the script.)

The whole structure is set on fire, as she drops down a trap door. Before you know it, she is outside with us, watching the flames. As she dropped down, a fake witch like a scarecrow is hoisted up. The flames shoot in skyward under the full moon and everyone cheers. We turn around and leave in a kind of procession and it is over. Tomorrow will be another event and we will return in our same costumes. On the way home, Roy is sure we need to do research and have costumes made for ourselves...We will see. Our friends back in California all must think this is shades of the Mountain Play all over again...

October 11
It is so foggy that we can hardly believe that by noon the sun is out and we are taking off our sweaters. The lattuga and radicchio and pepperoni and rugghetta are doing just fine. It is about time. Only a few leaves are bitten by sneaky birds...those plastic bottles seem to work. I love Cherie's scarcrow bird, even if it does not scare the birds it floats happily under the huge tufa rock outcropping.

We do our summer to winter change of clothes, moving things back and forth between the guest bedroom and our own. This house does not have much storage, but we make do nicely with plastic tubs stored underneath the beds.

Roy calls Franco about the marble top for our new sink unit, but it won't be ready until Tuesday. The faucets are not ready, either. But by the end of next week we should be very far along in installing at least the base unit in the bathroom. This is exciting. The sink has never worked very well for us, nor have we had enough storage in the bathroom. This should solve it.

We have a quiet day, and get ready for our repeat performance tonight in Soriano. We have no idea what to expect, other than there will be a big meal after it is over in the taverna for everyone participating. This will take place about midnight. Stay tuned.

Poor little Sofia. Two days ago, when Giuliola and the other ladies came by to deliver my costume, Sofi darted out the front gate. Brik followed the women to the start of our path, and Sofia ran down the path as fast as her tiny legs would carry her, right into the growling mouth of Brik! Bang! She jumped right up in his face and he responded by snapping at her..almost a bite. Sofia yelped the sound of a car alarm..."Wheep! Wheep! Wheep! Wheep!" and ran as fast as she could back up the path and up the ten steps to my arms. We think she will not approach Brik again with such reckless abandon. How sad she has to learn this way.

We snack on prosciutto and melon and slices of cheese and honey and get dressed for tonight's performance. I add my black pashima and I really look like a maid now...Off we go...

When we arrive at the square, people are milling about and we help stage all the props and stands. In about an hour, the production begins, but this time there is a stand in the middle of the square with a big trunk of a tree. Francesco tells us it is to chop off someone's head. His eyes light up with a scary expression. I tell him I was sad last night because I wanted the woman, charged with being a witch (strega), to be set free. "Libera!" he cried. He also wanted her freed but for another reason. "Sono diavolo!" he exclaimed (I am the devil!)

Francesco and his sister are very friendly tonight. They come over, one at a time, and guide us in what we are to do. Occasionally, someone from Soriano who works on the event comes over and talks away at us. If they want us to do anything, someone from Mugnano comes over to help translate...as though we are deaf and dumb. Well, perhaps we are not deaf...

Here is tonight's scenario: Remember from last night that we, the Mugnanese, have brought all our sets from our medieval festas, and are dressed in appropriate garb? We are supplying the "local color"...Our "booths" are set up around the perimeter of the square. Once they are set up, we walk around the stands, talk with the other costumed people and sample the cheese and prosciutto and wine, as though we are experiencing an everyday occurrence. Tonight the village's honest to goodness shepherd is making ricotta, and it is truly delicious. Our booth is the vedura booth, full of fresh fruit and vegetables in baskets, arranged "just so".

Horns and drums sound the approach of costumed people from Soriano. Dressed in fabulous red and navy velvet tunics and tights and red suede boots, they enter the square and march around in formation, beating away on the drums, which sound very much like the drums we hear often at night from our bedroom window. They are followed by the flag bearers, six young men, who are dressed in red and blue short tunics and perform difficult flag twirling exercises.

When they have finished, both groups leave the square. Soldiers arrive with a man in a rope tie. He is being charged with some heinous act, and, unlike the singing prisoner last night, he hollers away. He wears a white blousy shirt and black pants, looking very pirate-like. He is led to the stand in the center of the square, taken up the steps, and is brought to his knees, so that his head rests on the tree stump. The grim reaper takes a medieval axe and very skillfully drags his head over the stump, so he falls over. No blood, thank goodness, but he is taken off in a horse-drawn wooden carriage, and we are told to follow them up the hill to the gate of the town, which by now has a wooden drawbridge, which we cross.

The drawbridge is closed, and we can see from the hill behind it that fires are starting in different areas all over the square. By now it is an inky black night, but the stars and moon are visible overhead. The drums continue to beat. We are "protected" behind the moat and walls of the town.

Sounds of swords clashing begin, and a big battle now takes place. I surmise that it is to revenge the death of the prisoner. After ten minutes or so, the men of Soriano vanquish the pillagers, and the big wooden door is let down to let soldiers carry off the dead over their shoulders.

I turn to Enrico's girlfriend, as the wooden door is being lowered, and ask, "Dove Cleopatra?" This strikes her as very funny. "Piace?" I ask and she nods yes. I am growing in confidence. Earlier, Enrico said to me, "Una bruta journata." He is having a bad time getting everything to work. I am able to understand these few words, and even say a few back to him. Heaven knows what I say. These people from Mugnano are so kind to us. They try so hard to understand what we are saying...often we mispronounce the words, but they are able to coach us along. Later in the evening, a neighbor is hand-cutting the prosciutto next to me. I think I am so smart, I tell him he is a surgeon. But I mispronounce it, and after three or four tries, he understands, and smiles weakly at me, telling me that I am calling him a "chirugo". Sounds good to me...

Anyway, we are told to walk back down to the square, and take up our previous spots. Young people come out and dance around with pastel streamers, and there are people juggling with fire, you know, the typical medieval stuff.

We are told when to leave, and are at the end of the final procession, ending the night's entertainment. We exit to the sound of drum beats and applause. The Mountain Play was never like this....

Marino drives his little whit e truck up the side street near the square, and all the men stack the tables and baskets and food onto the little truck. He leaves the truck, and enters the taverna, where we are all given a wonderful dinner and invited to dance. It is a raucous hour or two, until we fizzle out. Everyone is tired. Even Livio, sitting across from me, is nodding, and we say goodnight and walk downhill to the car. We see Marino driving his truck by our car on the way out of town, and the truck looks like the Beverly Hillbillies have come to Italia. We follow him home, and are able to pass him outside the town.

When Sofi and I are outside at home on the terrace looking at the moon, Marino drives up the hill beneath us and every bit of wood remains intact. Dorme bene.

October 12
Today is "Columbus Day" in America, but this is not celebrated in Italia. As we enter church, Livio and a woman ask us if we are tired. We tell them no, but that we slept well. The woman tells us that she "slept like a corpse." What a strange expression.

After church, we get Sofi and drive to Bracciano. There are markets today in Spoleto and Bracciano, but I let Roy choose and he wants to drive south. We arrive at Bracciano, and a woman comes up to us and recognizes Sofi. Well, she asks us if we bought Sofi in Italy. We nod and she asks if we bought her from Marielisa. She is a good friend, and the woman recognized Sofi's face. That Elmer, Sofi's father, has fathered many, many doggies. This is not the first time strangers have asked us if Sofi came from there. Sofi answers with a cuddle, and we go on to the market.

It is nothing special, but we do buy some lemon honey, and walk around the remarkable town. We find a place to eat in an alleyway and it is good. Not great but good. Except an appetizer...grilled smoked Prova (Provalone) cheese with honey and rugghetta and pine nuts. What an extraordinary combination of tastes! The cheese is still a little warm. The only change we would make is to toast the pine nuts...We are sure to try this at home and suggest you do, as well.

We walk some more after pranzo and come to a vantage point over Lake Bracciano. The lake is so smooth that the clouds in the sky reflect off the water. It is truly a beautiful sight. We walk back to the car and return home by way of Barberano Romana and Blera. We really like these towns.

October 13
Tonight, Mario comes by to look at two projects we need to have done soon: digging up the dead lavender field and replanting it with 40 tiny new lavender plants, and rebuilding the fence and wall between the Mariani property, where our six new olive trees and the bocce court will go, and our lavender field. The mesh wall is rusty and decayed, and Sofi can jump right through big holes if she wants to. There is a steep incline from that property to ours, so we need to put in simple tufa steps and a very simple gate, made of mesh and castagno (chestnut) beams. Maybe some day we will have a real gate there, but for the foreseeable future, we must keep it simple. We need to do this soon, if only to protect Sofi.

Mario tells us that if we asked him last month, it would be done. But now it is time for him to prepare for the olive vendemmia, which will last a month. So he can do the lavender planting, but the other project will not start until the second week of December. Evidently he does not mind working out in the cold...

Felice tells us to plant on a new moon, so the lavender will arrive within the week but it will be planted after the 20th. We must be true to these advices. We will not get the olive trees until February, but Diego wants to give us six, so we will call him then.

October 14
Pranzo today at Tia and Bruce's, and we sit outside under the lush pergola. Sofia is welcomed at their house, even though Ivy, their old English Setter, is on her last legs and growls fiercely at her. There are two other dogs there, however, a Jack Russell and a greyhound, who belong to the painter. Sofi enjoys running around with them and generally nosing around the paths and gardens. When we call her, she runs to us as fast as her little legs will carry her, ears flapping in the breeze. She is a loveable bundle of joy.

Tia is remarkable. Her command of the Italian language is forceful and masterful. She has so many workers there all day long that she can spew out groups of words, if not complete sentences, faster than I can take a breath. Workers are trying to find a well, working on the electrical, painting, plumbing, irrigation, on and on. They thought the project would be done by July and it keeps on going.

Their house and grounds are really beautiful, and except for the road getting to their house we really enjoy going there. Today, a rock catches up under the wheel of our car on the way up the hill on the strada bianca. Every revolution of the tire we hear a knock, but can not see anything. When we back out of the driveway and Roy turns the wheels, we hear a terrible sound and a big rock plops out. So we drive another way out of the property and look forward to the new paving of the road, which will take place, we hope, before the rains come. Magari!

We drive on to Terracini, but the marble top for the vanity is not finished. They have a big job in Florence this week, so hope to have it finished on Friday. We hope so.

On a visit to Dottoressa, I learn that I cannot go to the clinic in Terni. I can only go to clinics in our province, which is Lazio. Unless I pay, then I can go tomorrow. I willwait till I am called. What is strange, is that I will go once, then not be scheduled again for a few months. Whatever treatment can they give me in one session that will last? I am still confident that the medical system here works for us.

October 15
Sofi is barking, and we see Felice's black jacket on the stairs by the front gate. She barks at it, not knowing what it is. So we go out to see him in the garden, and he has totally cleared the land where the tomatoes were planted. It will lie fallow for now.

The chard is starting to gain strength, and the gobbi, which I call cardi, are starting to sprout up again. Up on the orto garden above, the cabbage looks beautiful, but it is not ready for picking. He has cleared the rest of the area there as well. We will plant broccoletti on the start of the new moon (next week). Potatoes will be planted near the cabbage in February, after the broccoletti has seen its day, but not much else. We pick some red pepperonis in the other orto garden for sauce, and also some leaves of the lattuga and rugghetta for a salad at pranzo. Tasty!

Roy does some errands, and gets his hair cut. He takes a bottle of my shampoo with him, and Danieli thinks he can get it here. That is a relief. We may know next week.

We are planning our winter trip to the U.S. and this time plan to not buy very much to bring back. We think we can order my shampoo locally, and except for ziplock bags, a few items of clothing and glucosamine, think we have settled into life well here without reliance on anything from the U.S. I am even giving up Crest toothpaste, especially since hearing that only gel toothpaste will work on a Sonicare toothbrush.

Oysten, the young man from Norway, walks by the parcheggio while Roy is cutting firewood with his new €4 saw. Roy invites him for pranzo tomorrow. I will make another peach pie and we will have a vegetarian meal, to suit his palate.

Later in the day, Roy sees Felice across the street feeding the chickens. He asks where the chicken man and his wife are. They are in Rome. Signora is having tests. Roy asks Felice if he has tanti eggs. Felice says no, that although there are five chickens, they eat a lot and don't give many eggs. "Al 'Italiana?" Roy responds, and Felice laughs. Al 'Italiana refers to the Italians who spend most of their time eating and don't do much work.

I am busy up in our bedroom, sewing. On Monday, we took a quick trip to IKEA outside Rome, and bought a set of handkerchief linen curtains for the kitchen. Actually, they are not for the kitchen, but I recut them so that they are the right length for the kitchen window. I make tiebacks with small gold rings, and am able to make two sets of curtains with the material. We are sure we will have to wash them often, so will have a spare set to use while we are laundering the other set. As Shelly would say, "cheap and cheerful". They actually look very good. Sofi goes into her cage and sleeps...she loves to stay near me.

It has been a perfect day...beautiful sunny skies, a little breeze, birds singing, and plenty of time to do little projects around the house...clip the yellow leaves off the rose arch, make the curtains, make a pie, pack away my summer clothes...Tonight, while we are doing dishes, Roy quietly comments, "This is beyond my wildest dreams".

October 16
Oysten comes by for pranzo, and I am busily stirring polenta with a huge spoon as he comes in the door. Well, he follows an enormous bunch of flowers, done up as only the Italians can. The arrangement is a kind of "spray", with roses, white lilies, tons of babies breath, antherium and dahlias. I know it is not a funeral arrangement, because there are no chrysanthemums. So I feel like a bride, or the finalist in a piano recital.

He is a very sweet man, and this was a very thoughtful thing to bring. There is a belief that one should never bring wine to a meal at someone's house, because the host has already picked out the wine he/she/they want to serve, and it is presumptuous. We don't share that view, but for me, flowers are always a perfect gift.

I try out the new hot cheese/honey/grapes/pinenuts/arugula dish after the polenta, and it is a big hit, even if I forget to serve the grapes until everyone is finished. The plates are clean, so they must like it.

Oysten is going to work for a 4-Star hotel in Rome, the Victoria, and also teach Norwegian, yes, Norwegian, in Rome. This country never ceases to amaze me.

Later in the afternoon, Sofi and I walk down the front steps to deadhead all the roses on the path and cut away the yellow leaves. I am disappointed that there are so many yellow leaves, but it must be because of the rain. Now there are no yellow leaves, but the wall is sparse. Just as well.

While I am working on the roses, people from the village start to take their daily walk toward the cemetery, so Sofi is able to greet a number of young children and grandmothers. Stefano and Luca come by to look over the paving job they will do in the outdoor kitchen, which we also call the loggia. They start early tomorrow, so Roy moves almost everything out of the room while I finish with the roses. They will use the same mattone that is used throughout the terrace and parcheggio areas. Now if we can only replace that nasty asbestos roof...

We have a fire in the kitchen fireplace tonight. Even though the day is warm, after the sun goes down it is really chilly. The fire crackles while Sofi sleeps between us on the couch and we watch The Pianista.

I go up to bed not knowing what will happen with the Red Sox. This is game 7 of the playoffs, and even thought I am not a tremendous baseball fan, I was born in Boston and in a small corner of my heart I hope that they can beat the Yankees tonight. When we wake up, it will all be over. Let's hope there is not a fiasco like the catch in the Cubs game last night.

October 17
How sad, those Red Sox...losing the big game in the eleventh inning. There is not much to say, but the town must be a sad one today.

For us, it is a happy day. Roy moved everything out of the loggia except the washing machine, which Stefano and Luca move onto the gravel when they arrive. Roy has set the stage, even setting up the paranco all by himself. He is wearing his new coveralls, which he purchased in Giove, and he looks as though he works at a filling station in his new grey coveralls with red patches on the pockets. He makes me smile, he is so cute. And he loves his new coveralls.

Stefano and Luca arrive early and get right to work with the jackhammer, getting rid of the cement and rest of the flooring in the loggia. Rosina calls down to him to find out what he is doing, and after he tells her he looks at us and rolls his eyes. I ask, "Arribiatta?" and he tells me no, she is not angry. She just wants to know what he is doing.

We leave for a few hours, and when we return at pranzo, they have put the mesh on the floor, readying it for cement. This afternoon, they hand mix the cement and cover the floor. It will dry for four days and on Tuesday they will lay the mattone tiles. When the work is finally done on the back of the house and Enzo returns, we will have him reroute the pipe for the water outside the room. Stefano has laid the conduit for more electrical against a side wall, and this will be a very practical room. We cover everything over outside with a tarp, because the sky is threatening.

We take a quick trip to Terni and try to get Sofi's nails clipped, but the vet is very busy. Next week. So we walk around the town and get to know it a little better. Almost every good-sized town in Italy has its own special charm. Terni is no exception. At first, we hesitated to drive to Terni because its street grid is very complicated. But we have figured that out, and now like to walk around the old part of town. This is the city of St. Valentine, so one of these days we will go to his church. I have been thinking that we have seen so many wonderful churches, that perhaps once a month we will pick a town and a church and go to Sunday mass there.

We go to Oktoberfest for a beer and try to find something on the menu that is worth eating. Except for the fries, the food is ghastly. We keep trying, because the beer is so good, but perhaps we should just stop by for a beer now and then. Every time we go we tell ourselves that this is the last time....

October 18
We wake to a dark sky. It feels like 6AM, but it is already 8AM and time for a new day. Roy's pick for today is Massa Martana. He has found a listing for a mercato there, and as we tell Lore, we find out when we arrive if it is "important" or not.

Speaking of Lore, poor Lore, she went to the hospital to have her cast taken off on Wednesday, but after they x-rayed her foot they put another cast on and want her to behave herself for another two weeks...She is so active we cannot imagine her lolling around under a blanket reading. Alberto is a gem. He is afraid to leave her alone, because she will get up and clean or take on some kind of project. So he sits by her, reading but watching her out of the corner of his eye. Alberto has really come into his own these days. Lore is so proud of him. We are as well. He is a fine man, never complaining.

We drive to Massa Martana, thinking that that is where the mercato is. There is a mercato there, but it is a regular weekly market. At the bar, the woman tells us we want Massa Martana, and to get there we have to go over a mountain and round and round. It takes us over an hour, but we find it.

When we get out of the car, we see a sign for an antiquario, so there are several antiquarios in the town, but no mercato. A man is taking two old copper bowls out of a storage cantina, and Sofi barks at him She never barks, so it must be the copper bowls she is barking at. He is very kind and laughs. He is also the man who has the first antiquario. His furniture is beautiful, but way out of our price range. He has another negozio a few kilometers away, and we go with him after we look at the three other shops in the town. Everything looks closed up tight, but when we ask around, suddenly all the lights go on.

We follow the man to his home, where he has a big storeroom, full of more beautiful furniture. We are looking for a bureau for our bedroom, but his prices are really high. Well, perhaps not so high, just to high for us...

We drive on to find a place for pranzo, and wind up in the lower end of Spoleto, at Trattoria da Gastone. We find this by parking the car at the first square inside the wall, and walking up the hill. We see a sign in an alley, and that is good enough for us. We enter an empty restaurant, and call out. Gastone comes around a corner, agrees to feed us and allow Sofi, and takes us around a corner to a dining room. A tall blonde man with long hair and a chef's cap hangs his head out the kitchen and smiles. These days, our requirements for pranzo are a place that will allow Sofi. Sometimes we are in luck.

We have housemade Lasagna. Actually, we think the woman with her back to me at the next table made the lasagna at home and brought it in. Everyone at the table is served the lasagna and Gastone tells us we should have that. A woman at the table gets up and goes to the kitchen to serve everyone at their table the lasagna. Did she know that two pieces were taken out of the dish before she got to it? What a great choice. Roy asks for a small pitcher of red wine, and Gastone brings a full bottle over. He fiddles with the wrapper over the neck of the bottle, and someone at the other end of the room calls out to him. So he asks Roy if he will open the bottle himself, and gives Roy the opener. This is a very silly trattoria, but has a funny charm to it. Roy especially likes a plant on the window sill behind him. One stalk sticks straight up out of the pot with nothing on it. There are only three tables taken in the big room: an English couple who are trying to "fit in " but sneak their maps out when no one is looking, a big table next to us with four women and one young girl. And then us. Later in the meal the chef comes out and sits at the big table.

When we leave, Gastone strikes up a conversation with me. When I tell him we live in Lazio, he makes me wait while he rushes into another room for some billete di visita (business cards), telling me that next time we come call him first and we will get special treatment. Tell him we are the people from Lazio. While I am waiting, Roy is leading the English couple down the street and giving them directions. Sofi is very well behaved, but so full of bread that she looks forward to a break outside. We learn that to keep Sofi quiet we silently feed her tiny pieces of bread during the meal....

We have coffee at a café near the car and go home. It rains and we are inside for the night, in front of the fire. Roy calls Suzanne in Rome about meeting up to see her film about Mother Teresa tomorrow night. She will have our film tickets for us at her hotel. They are "red" (VIP) tickets and after the film there is a reception. Roy asks if it is black tie. Suzanne answers, not black tie, but yes, there will be plenty of black. Sounds good to me. We later learn that the "plenty of black" indicates the number of priests and nuns in attendance...

October 19
We leave early for Rome, packing up Sofi and her collapsible cage, toys, bowl, pillow and food for Angela, who will dog sit with Sofi at her house in Rome. We think this is a very good idea, and a way to see how Sofi does without us. Angela Good will stay at our house while we are gone to the U.S. We even have a little carryall for us for this one overnight in the big city. We certainly have become country bumpkins. Let's see how we behave in raucous Rome.

While Sofi noses around Angela's apartment and garden, we sneak out the door. She has no idea that we have left. Later in the day we get a message that she is doing fine. We are relieved.

We check in to the Albergo Al Sole, a little hotel in the Campo di Fiore. It is a walkup, but inexpensive and just fine with us. We take a little walk around the campo, and the stands are just as full of luscious fruit and vegetables as ever. We don't have much time, so take the streetcar to meet Karina, and have pranzo at the Music Center, a modern complex of music halls and cafés. Dave Brubeck will be there later this week and next month, Michael Tilson Thomas. The acoustics are supposed to be quite excellent, so we look forward to going to a concert there sometime. We take a little walk around the center with Karina, but must get back.

We go back to the hotel, change for the film and take a taxi to her hotel, which is right next to the Vatican. In the news, we see that 300,000 people are in Rome for the beatification, but the ceremony was from 11AM to 12:30, so we are able to get there without much trouble. We go on to the hall where the film will be shown with Suzanne, and meet her relatives from Mirabella.

Before the film, Peggy Noonan is chosen to give the introduction, along with the director of Communications for the Vatican. Peggy is a last minute stand-in for Richard Attenborough, who could not make it. She is now on the staff of the Wall Street Journal, but has served for President Regan. Despite her political affiliation, we find her boring and embarrassing. She is asked by the woman who is taking Mother Teresa's place to speak for 3-5 minutes. She speaks for 30. She clearly is not a public speaker, but is so sickeningly sweet that Suzanne wants to sink under her chair.

When she finally finishes, the film is shown, and it is a good documentary, about the legacy of Mother Teresa. Suzanne has composed the music for this film as well as the first film done for "Mother" in 1985. After the film, we attend the reception, and meet a number of people who are going around the world on behalf of Mother's Teresa's cause and mission. They are all very interesting and full of life.

We walk outside at 8PM with Suzanne and her sister and hear a loud commotion nearby. We follow the noise to St. Peter's square, where there is a groundswell of applause. There are thousands of people in the square, and Pope John Paul II is in his window, waving.

Just then, music from an elaborate sound system begins, along with a fireworks display that lasts for 30 minutes. We watch it, amazed. The music plays in time with the fireworks. The pope does not move for the entire show. After the fireworks end, he speaks for a few minutes, in a very strong voice. He thanks many people. Roy thinks he is thanking the people who have set up the chairs, but I think that is an old family joke. The city of Rome has put on the fireworks display in honor of his 25th anniversary. It is quite a treat.

We walk on down a side street and find a trattoria in an alley. It is warm enough to eat outside, and we sit next to a journalist team from a TV station in Philadelphia. Journalists are teaming around Rome these days, because the pope is elevating 31 cardinals, because it is his 25th anniversary, because he is beatifying Mother Teresa, but most of all because he sounds tired and they think his time may be near. They are hovering around the cardinals, trying to figure out who is going to be the next pope.

We go home with tired feet, but exhilarated by the evening's events. The weather was clear and we had a truly memorable day in this beautiful city.

October 20
We are to meet Duccio and Giovanna and go to the Protestant Cemetery and have pranzo at their house in Rome. We wake up early and walk around the Campo di Fiore, but it is overcast and rains off and on. We decide to check out of the hotel and leave our suitcase at Duccio's. We left the car at Angie's yesterday, and will take the metro and a cab there after pranzo.

It really starts to rain, and when we arrive at Duccio's we agree that it is too rainy to go to the cemetery, so we send the suitcase up on an electric lift and walk around the neighborhood to see a number of wonderful churches and important sights. The first on is in the basement of Duccio and Giovanna's house. It is the remains of a Roman altar. The building was owned by Giovanna's grandfather, and he was one of the first hydroelectric engineers in Rome. He and a man who was in charge of the public works of Rome agreed that the altar would be better protected if they built a shell around it, so built a 4-story building above it and apartments for each of them. The building was given in his will to Giovanna, who has lived there all her life. The altar is in many guidebooks, and when someone comes to ring the bell, anyone who is home must go down and let them in and tell them about the history of the altar.

We have a great pranzo at their flat and take the metro to the Flamminia, where we get off and go to Rosati's café. We say goodbye to Rome by taking a cab to Angie's, and Sofi gets great marks for her behavior. It is good to have her back with us. It is especially good to arrive at home and wind down after a great short trip.

We really are country bumpkins. This little village looks like paradise to us, although our wide-eyed wonder at the sites of Rome is intact. We love going to Rome. There are so many layers to this complex city, that no matter how often we go we will hardly penetrate it. There is so much to look forward to.

October 21
Stefano and Luca arrive and begin paving the mattone in the loggia. We go to Lugnano and pick up the marble sink top. The center piece broke as they cut it, so they give us another piece and cut it into a rectangle. It will make a great top over a small short cabinet in the loggia next to the sink.

We go back home to get ready for the arrival of Suzanne and her sister and her sister's two American Eskimo dogs...we do not know what to expect. They arrive and the dogs are really well behaved. Sofi is intimidated by them, so they don't really pay much attention to each other. This is sad, because we'd like to think they could be playmates.

Otherwise, the visit is fine and we have a fire in the fireplace and a good meal. For dessert, we have a Pandoro, a tall cake that comes in an elaborate bag, to shake powdered sugar over the top. After shaking the bag and taking the cake out, the custom is to slice it across, making a star shaped piece to serve each person. We take out the cherries that have been marinating in brandy since the summer, and spoon some over each piece. They taste wonderful, a little tart, but wonderful. These are the cherries from the tree next to the lavender field.

Suzanne may have a gig at the music center in Rome on December 21. We've invited her to come here first to sleep out her jet lag and then we can take her into Rome. The date is not set, but it looks promising. What a small world that a few days ago we had pranzo at the music center...our first visit and the first time we have heard of it... and now are hearing about it all over again.

Stefano and Luca finish the paving, but will come back tomorrow to fill in the grout. Tomorrow afternoon we can put all the furniture back in the room. Roy leaves to take the sink and marble to Marco to work out what he has to add to the back of it, and Roy is unable to get the right clamps for the sink. Tomorrow he will go to Civita Castellana, where we bought the sink, for the clamps. While he is gone, I call Michellini to find out when they will deliver the lavender, and they are waiting for the rose to arrive. We don't want to wait a week for that, so hope the rest can be delivered before Friday. Then Mario can replant the lavender and the three evergreen plants in the same area. We can wait for the rose for the front wall. We can even wait until January and get a bare root rose. We will see...

We are tired and full and just hang out for the rest of the afternoon and evening in front of the fire.

October 22
Roy goes to Civita Castellana early in the rain to get hardware for the sink project. It is too rainy to go to the weekly mercato in Terni. We still do not have our lavender or sempivirins from Michellini, so Roy decides to go to Viterbo in the rain and pick them up himself. Sofi and I stay at home and put up brandied peaches. Peaches are still cropping up in local markets, and we wonder if they are coming from Sicily.

Outside, I see Felice go out of the gate and say buon giorno. He comes back up the stairs and shows me the broccoletti that he has planted for us in the space where we grew the tomatoes. A long line of tiny plants, in preciso fashion, sit happily by the front fence. They are from his orto garden, and he will plant another row tomorrow. He must be growing them from seeds. They are really beautiful.

Stefano and Luca finish the mattone project, and move the washing machine back inside the loggia. Luca also helps Roy bring in the huge piece of cut marble for the bathroom sink. Roy tells me that Marco is doing a great job on the top, and we should have it all in by the end of the week. He just needs to put in the mirrors on the front doors. Then we will call Enzo to come in and take out the bidet and replumb the sink. The piece of furniture is long enough that it will also cover the space where the bidet has stood. Yesterday Roy measured the width of the bathroom door to make sure we can get the piece of furniture in the door. It will fit. Now that would have been a real calamity!

Stefano comes by in the afternoon with Roberto Pangrazi, the town geometra, to talk to us about the shoring up of the front of the house. Stefano will do the work at the beginning of November, and it promises to be a real mess. There will be huge turnbuckles inside the house, synching the back walls to the front, cathedral style, and they will excavate the foundation at the front of the house, a meter at a time. Then they will put in steel beams. The total time will only be about three days, but it will be done over about a ten day period. I am imagining rainy days, Sofi frightened with the noise, a fine dust creeping into everything. We will survive. Now the kitchen and the living room doors don't close, a sign that the work really has to be done. I ask Roy if we should leave the turnbuckles in place, the way old churches do, but we agree that would look strange. Interesting, but strange in this little house.

We will start to plan the packing up of the contents of the house, in preparation for this work. Roy is especially good at these projects. Roy also talks to them about making a storage room below the bathroom at the back of the house, and inside a room for a little bathroom and shower. We will need a permit for that, and Roy has instructed Roberto to begin the plan. That project will take at least six months to get a permit. But it will be good to finally have some real storage and a second bathroom.

Roy calls Mario again, and he may be able to come on Friday afternoon to plant the 40 new tiny lavender plants and the three larger sempervirins. It depends on the weather and what is going on with him in terms of the olive harvest. We think it is early, but he is booked for several weeks because of the olive harvest. Magari. Perhaps tomorrow Roy will pull out the rest of the dying lavender and that will make Mario's job easier. That is, if it stops raining.

October 23
We wake to rain again, but are not complaining. The roof is as solid as a bunker...actually the weight of all the cement and reinforcement is probably helping to destabilize the house...There are no leaks and we are relieved. I have a lot of sewing to do...the gauzy drapes that are so wonderful in the warm weather, blowing freely in the tall open windows are not hemmed at the bottom. They sit on the floor in folds, dramatic but Roy is not crazy about them. So there are six sets of them to do, complicated because the fabric is so thin. That should keep me out of trouble for a while...

Spaccese, the town handyman, will come this afternoon to work with Roy to put in another electrical plug in the loggia for the freezer and outdoor frigo. Roy will also talk with him about the bathroom plumbing project...perhaps we do not need Enzo. Spaccese is Pepe Fosci's cousin, we think. He is from Bomarzo, and arrives in his dark green ape, a three wheeled job with a back cabin, so tiny it just creeps up the Bomarzo hill.

Roy is not happy with me. The new mattone floor on the loggia needs to be brushed with acido, a short but messy project. He wants to put everything back in the loggia and think about the acido project later but I want it done right. The sky clears and the steam comes off the gravel and out of Roy's ears. He sulks and takes on the project today. I go upstairs and sew silently.

The sun comes out behind the clouds and it is beautiful all over the Tiber valley. Sheep graze in a far meadow on a hill, the land is green and happy with all the rain, and the sun reflects the joyous panorama around us. A motorino speeds down Via Mameli below us. Otherwise, there is not a sound except for an occasional bird and the soft wind blowing through the trees. The loquat trees are growing very tall and lush, and have chosen this month to unveil their creamy flowers, just below our bedroom window. I open it and breathe in the fragrant scent of the blossoms. The drapes blow inward with the breeze and I drink it all in thirstily.

Just as I finish one set of drapes for the bedroom, Spaccese arrives to look at the projects. He is busy with the olive vendemmia and not ready to work until next Thursday. He also thinks that Enzo Rosati must do the hydraulico work. He will do the electrical work late next week.

Roy calls Enzo, who is busy with a job at the church. He will come by tomorrow afternoon to look at the bathroom project, but can't start until at least the end of next week. Everything is stored in the living room, but we don't really use that room anyway, so another week will be just fine. In the meantime, we have to find a light to hang down from the ceiling in the bathroom, now that the new piece is so tall. We will look tomorrow in Viterbo. I want a tiny old chandelier and hope we can just wait until we find one.

Roy has done the acido and moves everything back in to the loggia. It looks wonderful. During rain storms, we can sit there protected and watch the rain through a kind of "cornice" or picture frame. When viewed from the terrace, the mattone floor is raised and the little paved grotto inside reminds me of an opera set in Milan for Rigoletto, raked at an angle. When Spaccese comes to work on the electrical next week, Roy will have him install special wiring for tiny lights inside the grotto. We may have a year-round presepio. I am concentrating on the design for this year's manger, which the Italians call a presepio, and will finish it in time for this holiday season.

The rain falls softly as we close the shutters on the kitchen window, put another log on the fire and reflect on another memorable day.

October 24
There is a thick layer of fog in the valley. Usually, this indicates a beautifully clear day ahead. Today, there are clouds up above, but it looks promising. At 7:15 the front gate bell rings and it is Mario, here to clean up the lavender field and plant the new lavender and three large boxwood. I go out to see him and he wants to make sure the three plants are placed correctly. I have him move them a little, and remind him to pulire (clean) the land around the lavender before planting, but everything looks good. He asks me for the scopa di ferro (iron rake) and I cannot find just what he wants, but he has plenty of garden tools to choose from. Remember I am married to McGuyver....

Roy and Sofi and I go to Alessandra's so that she can work on my shoulder. It is getting much better, even if the hospital does not call me to go in for my physical therapy. We drive to Terni from there, and walk all around the old city, after taking her to the vet to get her nails clipped. There are two vets in the practice, but my favorite is not in. The young woman takes care of us, but cuts a nail on one of Sofi's back paws too short and draws blood. I am holding her in my arms and think I will faint. I am so sad that she is in pain. Sofi is wonderful, and takes it in stride. We decide to leave the rest of her back paw nails alone. The vet assures us that they get filed down by walking on the street. I surely will never want to cut her nails myself. They are dark and it is impossible to see the correct place.

In the old part of the city, we look at a couple of lamp stores, but nothing is just perfect. So we wait. We park on a side street, because there is some kind of workers' strike going on, and a parade. I am handed a leaflet, and will try to read it later to understand what they want. Everyone seem mellow, but they do have someone beating the drums in the parade...We later learn that it is a half day strike to protest changes in pensions.

On the way back we stop at an Autogrille for a panini, but they don't want to let Sofi in. We get them "porta via" and eat in the car. The manager must be in a bad mood. We can usually go in there with no problem.

We arrive home to see Mario's fine work in the garden. Every single lavender plant is planted in "preciso" form. The three large "box" look great. They are not really boxwood, but have a similar type of leaf. The contrast looks great next to the lavender.

The brocoletti is doing well, and for once the rugghetta is thriving. All the lettuce looks good. I go inside and look over the cannellini beans, which have been soaking in water overnight. We will cook them later tonight in the bean pot and eat them after salting them and drizzling Diego's nutty-flavored olive oil.

I spend some more time on the bedroom drapes. This is really a long-term project, but the pair that is finished look just right. The clouds come and go and it is cool, a perfect day to stay in and sew, especially after the long walk this morning in Terni. Sofi did not have a nap, so she is conked out on the rug next to the bed.

I cook the beans and tell Roy to turn them off when I go up to bed. He forgets, and when he gets up in the middle of the night to turn them off, they are fine.

October 25
Roy loves these mercatos, and today we return to Narni, but the mercato is nothing special. I need some hem binding for the drapes and have run out of my favorite kind from the U.S. Of course, Italy has nothing like that. So I buy something similar and improvise and in the late afternoon both sets of drapes in the bedroom are finished.

In the meantime, Roy works outside on his saw-horses, making shelves to go between the freezer and frigo in the loggia. He makes a kind of a box, and it works really well. Roy has never had a bona fide garage to do projects in since we have been married, but now he can work right on the gravel and the sawdust just disappears. He must impress all the neighbors. He surely impresses Sofi and me.

Roy takes out the camera and takes photos of the newly planted lavender. We will not bring photos with us to the U S this winter, because they will be posted on this site on the photos page. Roy needs to do some work on the page first, to take out some old photos and make room for some more. It is about time that we include some good pictures of "L'Avventura". A good project for a rainy day...

Enzo comes by to look at the bathroom project, and he seems to like the components we are working with. For the first time, I see what the marble will look like on top of the base unit with the faucets and I am really happy. It is a reach for me to get to the faucets but you know me...form over function. It's really not that far, but the piece of marble is very generous and the design makes the piece look much older than its years...Enzo thinks he will be able to do it the end of this week. Roy also asks him to reroute the water line in the loggia, which comes into the room in a big black insulated pipe. When he comes to work, he will reroute it outside the room and have it come in right at the sink. We call David and Alex and make arrangements for them to come and see the sink and bidet, which we will not longer be able to use. We will sell them to them very reasonably if they are interested. If we do get a downstairs bathroom, we will need a smaller sink.

Suzanne calls and she and her sister have gone to Amelia from their rental house in Lucca, and her sister wants to buy an apartment there. We offer to help her find a place, and also to work on it for her when she is in the U.S. This would be a good use of Roy's extensive project management skills. We will talk more about it next week when we visit them in Lucca.

Elisabeth's birthday is tomorrow, and we are invited to drop by. We have not seen her in months, and the children have not met Sofia, so we will go tomorrow afternoon for a short visit. Her dog has also given birth to nine puppies, but by now most of them must have found other homes. We will see. It will probably be a chaotic visit, as usual, but lots of fun.

October 26
I don't know what I was thinking, but when we arrive at church for mass, there is no one around, except one little woman wearing an apron, walking across the square. We wait and think the church door is closed because it is cold. The door is locked. Just then, Giuliola comes down her stairs with the key...The clocks were turned back last night and only the dumb stranieri were not clued in.

Giuliola is surprised at us, because Roy is so preciso with his hand-held computer. Roy is surprised that the computer did not change automatically, so we come home for an hour while Roy changes all of the clocks and then we go back up to church.

After mass, we come home and Sofi and I stay in the house while Roy drives to Bagnaia to pick up something at the outdoor market for pranzo. We bought fresh ravioli yesterday and will have that tonight. We decide to take a drive to Amelia and walk around inside the walled town, writing down names and phone numbers to call to help Judith, Suzanne's sister, find a place there. We find two or three, but there are not very many places for sale in this lovely town. We will help her spread theword, and start with a call to Tia. Afterward, we go to Lili's country house to wish her happy birthday.

At Elizabeth's, Sofi meets another basotto, a really big one named Asia who is old and not very friendly. Asia's owners are friends from Rome, who give us good advice about Sofi. We need to be more careful about her going up and down stairs, because of her long spine. Marielisa mentioned it, but it seems that this is something we need to pay close attention to. Since Sofi loves to bound up and down the marble stairs all day long, we probably need to get a children's gate to go across the top and bottom of the staircase until we train her to keep off the stairs.

October 27
We leave early in the morning to drive to Lucca. Suzanne and her sister have invited us to stay with them for a few days, and Roy really wants to get a birth certificate of his grandfather, who was born in 1884. We are expecting that this will take most of a morning.

On the way up, we stop in Chiusi to visit Alex and David at their "new" casale. They have done a lot of work, and we admire them very much for wanting to spend their first winter there. Portable heaters have been installed, but the project is an overwhelming one. They are taking it all in stride, with small steps. Young daughters Tomasina and Isolde are enjoying it, until they drive back to Giove and spend time in real civilization. We think that next summer will be a lot of fun for them all.

It is very messy underfoot, and the three of us get back into the car and drive North. We stop outside Florence at Ikea to look for a very small file cabinet that won't look too modern. We are in luck, and find one at a good price. It comes in a flat box, so Roy will put it together when we get home.

On to Lucca, and we arrive at their rental house mid afternoon. That evening, we go to Il Moro, a very good restaurant on the outskirts of Lucca. This restaurant is one of the two hundred or so restaurants in an association that hands out a special hand painted plate if someone eats the house specialty. Roy convinces the owner to sell him two, as gifts for Suzanne and Judith, although they did not offer the fish stew, the specialty of the house. This is a very good place to eat, and we recommend it.

Roy is a master with directions, and finds his way home in the dark like a homing pigeon. We go to bed tired and excited about tomorrow's adventures.

October 28
We get up early and leave before Suzanne and Judith are even dressed. We agree to meet them later for pranzo in the town. We find the commune in Lucca easily, and the window where we make the request is right on the first floor. We see a form to fill out with Nonno's name and birthdate and there is not even a line. A young woman comes up to the window and nods her head, "Yes, we can do that. 1884? Not a problem."

Before we know it, she has taken the 1884 book down from the shelf, and shows us the entry for Attilio Barsuglia. She goes out the door and returns in two minutes with all of the information on a piece of paper. She stamps it with four different stamps, signs it, and hands it to us. No charge! This took all of ten minutes.

What do we do with the rest of our day? We take Sofi up on top of the wall, a huge wide wall meant for walking, lined with trees and grass. We take her off her lead and she gambols all around, happy as can be. While walking around Lucca, we see a look-alike woman with her dog. She is tall and stately with short curly hair in a kind of a bubble hairdo. The dog is a very large black poodle, and they both have the same walk. So which of us looks more like Sofi? I suppose Roy with his beard....Roy makes reservations at Da Giulio in Pelleria and we meet Suzanne and Judith and the dogs there at 1PM. We put Sofi in the sherpa bag in the car, a short distance away, where she sleeps peacefully.

In the afternoon, fresh from his great success at the commune, Roy wants to go to visit the relatives. He has not called them, but called a family friend of his mother's, only to find out that she passed away in April. It is now raining, and we drive outside the wall to Via San Donato, and pull in the driveway. Armando is standing there, wondering who these people are waving at him. Roy gets out and after he gets over the shock, Armando invites us in for a glass of wine. We meet his wife, his two beautiful daughters and his mother, Maria. Maria is upstairs in the dining room with one of her grand daughters, sewing and talking away. She does not recognize us at first. It has been eight years since our last visit.

We are taken into the living room and amazingly are able to have a conversation with them. Years ago, when we went to their house for pranzo, none of them knew any English, and we hardly knew a word of Italian. But could Maria ever cook!

Today, we talk about where we live, why we came to Italy to live, why we bought where we did ("Why didn't you buy a house in Lucca?") and about politics. The big news in Italy is that there is a possibility that the government will make it mandatory for all schools to remove crucifixes from their walls. 97% of the people surveyed think this is a terrible idea. So we talk about that and President Bush and terrorism...

We leave and agree to keep in touch with them, and arrive home in the rain, in time to change for cena. This time, we will eat inside the walled city. We eat at Osteria Baralla, and the food is quite good. This is not where Roy wants to eat, but the restaurant he wants to eat at is closed on Tuesdays. It is good to have a meal without the dogs, but we look forward to going home to them, and bring them part of our dinner.

We go to bed early and look forward to a drive down the coast tomorrow.

October 29
We leave later today than yesterday, but agree that we will see Suzanne and Judith in a few days. They will go to Amelia and try to look for an apartment for Judith.

We drive to Livorno in pouring rain. The sky is menacing all the way, but just as we arrive in Livorno and begin to drive around, it starts to clear. Roy finds a restaurant, Le Volte, and the rain has slowed to a fine mist. There is hardly anyone in the restaurant, but we like it very much. Of course, this is a fish town, and we have a hot fish appetizer, followed by Linguine in a lemon clam sauce and Roy has gnocci with prawns. The food is remarkable. We will definitely return.

The rest of the drive is uneventful and long, but we return through Tarquinia and it is such a beautiful town we can't resist driving around the narrow streets. We find a rosticceria and bring home a roast chicken and potatoes. It is good not to cook tonight, although we have a salad with lattuga and rugghetta fresh from the garden.

October 30
There was a message left for me on the phone yesterday that I am finally scheduled to go in to the Orte hospital for rehabilitation treatments for my shoulder. So we arrive at 9AM and they agree to take me this morning. I will have ten sessions of about an hour each, on succeeding days. The rehab consists of sitting at, or lying next to, machines that are either magnetic or electro-something based.

I sit in a stiff chair over in a corner next to the first machine. There are kind-of sponges fitted like jackets over metal pads, attached to the machine by cords. One is placed on my shoulder blade, one on my shoulder, one on the back of my neck. They are bound to my body by a loose cloth. Rosella steps behind me and turns a knob and I think I am being slowly electrocuted. There is a kind of pulse that comes and goes in waves. She leaves me and the curtain remains open. I start to laugh with the silliness of it all. This is lower-than-low tech.

Chattering goes on all over the open clinic. Two women come into the big room, talking at a fast clip, and walk right up to me; then they reach behind my head for magazines. I am treated like the prosciutto at the Mugnano festa that waited sitting up on a chair while the band played and was then raffled off. One woman dangles a plastic bag over my face while she rifles through the magazines. The bag is slung over her wrist, as if it is a piece of jewelry. Then I am left alone, although people walk by continuously. The atmosphere is like a strange kind of club to which I would rather not belong...

After about twenty minutes, a loud alarm goes off and I am taken to another nearby machine. Now I get to lie down, and a curved metal bar is moved up my body to just above my chest. This must be for my spine. I cannot feel anything here, but after about another twenty minutes, another alarm goes off and I am though. These sessions cost

about €3 each...I pay €36 before the start of the session, and this covers all ten sessions. No wonder the Italian government is going broke!

Rain, rain, almost ever day, but we need it. Our roof is secure, although I am worried because the cracks are getting much worse over the doors to the kitchen and living room. Next week Stefano will do the repair work, and we will have to get the house ready for a real mess.

Roy buys a shop vac, and tells me that he is going to follow Stefano and Luca around vaccuming up the dust that is created. He also wants us to consider staying at a nearby agritourismo if the dust is just too bad. The whole house will be affected, so we will see. I am hoping that paint cloths covering everything will be all we'll need. I am making a big pot of minestrone next week, but we may wind up not eating here during the worst of it. The good news is that it will only take a week.

Suzanne and Judith call us from Amelia and they have found an apartment that they like very much. We agree to go and see it with them, and share their opinion. It is in a lovely open piazza, facing the old post office. A bell tower outside peals the time on the hour. There is no real view except for the piazza but there are beautiful painted ceilings, old tiles in many of the rooms, and the place is spotless. The bathroom tiles are lovely and everything has been done using the best materials. There is also a tiny studio apartment upstairs that may be purchased as well. This is a good idea, since there is one main entrance for both places.

We recommend that she think it over tonight, but she is ready to make an offer. Suzanne tells her that if she does not buy it, Suzanne will. So they come up with a price for the two places and the realtor agrees to go to the owner tonight with their offer. We give Judith the name of our notaio, and leave them as they go to a meeting with another realtor. Later in the evening, they call us several times, lost on the road, looking for a place to stay. Eventually they find one and Suzanne especially must be exhausted. It has been a very long day for them both.

October 31
Enzo arrives at 8:30 with young Fabrizio and they take out the sink and bidet before we know it. We will store them behind the house until we decide what to do with them. Roy decides to take me to Orte while they are getting the basics done, and is back to them in about 30 minutes. He drives me to the hospital for my second treatment, and everything goes without a hitch. The two women who help me are Paola and Rosella and I am able to move swiftly from one machine to the other. I hardly have to wait for him after the session.

We arrive back home and the sink unit really looks wonderful. They next reroute the water pipe behind the loggia. Enzo will return next week, we hope, to hook up the heated towel bar. And now we are ready for Spaccese to come to work on the electrical with Roy. Roy calls him and he is surprised Enzo did his work so fast...He will come on Tuesday. Roy calls Stefano to check in about a starting date, and Stefano stalls...he does not want to do the work when we need him to. He promises to come by tomorrow to look at the work. I look up at the kitchen door and worry. The crack is growing...

I make a kind of pot roast with pieces of beef, which I marinate most of the day in red wine and onion and garlic and carrot and celery. When cooked, I add potatoes, and it makes a good meal to have by the fire. We have rented Unfaithful with Diane Lane and Richard Gere and look forward to seeing her in Under the Tuscan Sun when we get to the states.

No trick-or-treaters tonight, although there are some costumes sold in nearby stores. This is a big holiday weekend. Tomorrow is All Saints Day, and Sunday is Day of the Dead. There will be a big mass at the Mugnano cemetery honoring the people who passed away this past year. We will also have a little ceremony of our own in the replanted lavender field, and scatter some of Isabel's ashes. A friend gave them to us a few weeks ago, and now we will have our good friend with us all the time.

Suzanne emails us that Judith's offer for the apartment in Amelia has been accepted. She has a lot of work ahead to make the place livable, although it is in move-in condition. There is no real kitchen, although the tiny apartment right upstairs that she also bought has a kitchen. And there is no furniture. A daunting task for a woman on her own who does not speak Italian and will only be here twice a year. The two of them have taken a train to Naples and will spend the weekend there. We are sure Suzanne will spend it sleeping and Judith dreaming of her new venture.

NOVEMBER, 2003

November 1
Today is All Saints' Day, and although it is Saturday, we go to mass at the regular Sunday time. After mass, we work around the house. It is a quiet day, and we joyfully undertake the simplest of tasks. The two loquat trees are full of sweet blossoms, and tiny little birds have returned to sing and hop from branch to branch while dining on their nectar. The tree outside the bedroom nearest the lavender has grown so that Mario will have to prune it way back in January. We can hardly see our favorite olive tree in front of the gardener's cottage, and that tree has grown to enormous proportions, graceful and proud.

We have seen so much change on our property in the past five years. Soon, we will use more of the land; in February we hope to plant six olive trees from Diego, above the spot where Roy's bocce court will go. We are hoping to donate the tiny spot to the village and have the commune involved in building it. Roy finishes adding the short mesh to the nearer wall at the end of the lavender. Next month, there will be a new simple castagno and mesh fence replacing the old worn one. Now, there are big holes enough for Sofi to fall through. So this temporary measure will allow her to gambol about in the meantime without fear.

I'm sitting in our bedroom and it is four PM. Shadows from the Tiber Valley hills block the sun in spots, and the view looks both warm and cold at the same time, depending on where the sun hits the lush land. The yellow leaves on the plane trees stand out strong and proud, next to all the soft grey-green olives and other evergreens. A branch from the big caki tree on the terrace reaches into the view, and its leaves have turned terra cotta in the last few days. Soon they will fall. For the first time there are no messy caki to contend with.

Next to me, Sofi sleeps in her cage on a big pillow with the door open. She loves the new bones we've brought her, but would rather stay here with me. She is as close to an angel as any dog I have ever had.

November 2
There is a layer of fog when we wake up, but it is so high that we can see the valley and sun streaming below it. Off in the distance, I can see some tall lemony-leafed trees, shot by sunlight streaming in from the left. There must be a clearing way down in the valley, beyond any road. We will have to walk down there some time.

Today is the day we scatter Isabel's ashes in the lavender garden. Roy picks out the five lavender closest to the front corner for the spot and shakes the ashes out of the little glass jar. She floats out like an angel, and we can almost hear the sound of her laughter. The air is still, and sun beams through the clouds above us. I read a poem of Robert Frost's, "In a Vale" and we speak about our memories of that dear woman. Today, her photograph sits on our kitchen table. We are blessed to have known her and loved her kindness and gentle spirit and, most of all, her love of life.

Before we know it, the entire village is eclipsed by fog. We know that it will be beautiful later, so we plan to drive north of Spoleto to the monthly antique market after church. We start to drive up to church, but must park down below, because there are Bomarzo Polymartium Band members already parking in front of us. We walk up and mingle around in front of the church. Today, there will be no morning mass. The mass will be at 3:30 in the cemetery. Now there is the marching band from Bomarzo, Don Luca, Stefano Bonari (the sindaco, or mayor) and two carabinieri, the one who looks like a blown-up version of the little king and a tiny little sidekick, as well as many people from the village.

We look for Felice and Giovanni. They fought in WWII and laid the wreath for the Caduti (fallen) last year. A cousin of Felice's has just died, so Marsiglia tells us he is in Viterbo at the cemetery. We see him come up the hill later, unshaven, with a plastic bottle of water. We think he has been down in his garden. Taking his place are Alberto and another man, dressed in new neon volunteer fireman jumpsuits and new boots. Roy thinks it's worth volunteering, just to get the costume...

The band plays a few tunes, including the Italian National Anthem, Don Luca gives a few blessings, Alberto and another man take the wreath and lay it against the marble statue, and then it is over. I have been holding Marsiglia's arm, and turn her over to Felice, who gives her a big hug (un gran abraccio).

We go home, get Sofi, and drive to the market, north of Spoleto. The sun is out and the sky is clear. Trees are starting to turn from green to gold and red.

We find a very reasonable old light for the bathroom, and Roy will wire it when we get home. We also find a few little holiday gifts, and a white alabaster dog for Roy's collection. We stop to eat at a trattoria nearby, and I love the homemade tagliatelle con tartufo. This is the season for truffles, fragrant and musty and heady with each bite. Roy gets to eat fegato(liver) crostini, and he is a happy man. I cannot imagine eating liver of any kind, but if it makes him happy and I don't have to serve it at home, that's fine with me.

Later in the day, Michelle stops by for coffee. We agree to sign her letter to the sindaco to get recycling canisters in the village. He seemed to like the idea when she asked him yesterday about using discarded plants from the cemetery to build a compost area for the people. Progress one slow step at a time.

November 3
Roy and Sofi take me to Orte for the next session with the magnetic machines. Upstairs, I stick my head around the door to say hello to Paola and Rosella. We are starting to get to know each other. Paola even smiles now when she sees me and tries out her English a few words here and there each day. Rosella speaks only a few words, but loves to say, "breasts!" She is a very funny woman, and makes me laugh when she hooks me up to the old machines, sometimes even bringing me a sheet to cover my bare shoulder like a toga.

While I am sitting at the first machine, Paola and Rosella come over and talk to me. I hear Rosella tell Signor Volpe in the next curtained area that I am English. "Americano!" I answer out loud, although I am not asked. A few minutes later, Paola, who speaks better English than Rosella, asks me why I would leave the US to live in Italy.

"Tropo complicato in America" I reply. "It is more important there to make money and live for tomorrow than smell a flower or enjoy the beauty of a lovely moment".

"You speak as though you are English!" Paola replies. "You have a European way of looking at life, not American." I am impressed with her ability to discern the nuances between the English and the American lifestyles. She is from Rome. Perhaps she has spent time with Europeans and/or Americans.

During the day, I think a lot about what she said. And I think about the land, and the things we plant in our gardens. Especially the onions.

When we first stick them in the ground, they are lithe and lovely and seem unable to stand on their own and live for more than a day. But they do live. Fortified by sun and liberal doses of rain and water, they thrive. Months later, their bulbs grow layer by layer by layer. When we take them out of the ground to braid them together and hang them in the kitchen, they have become works of art.

And it is only then that we take them, one by one, and peel away at them. And in peeling the layers away, we see that each layer has definition, texture, responsible in its own way for its role in producing the stunning globe that is the final shape of the onion. When life is full, it consists of layer upon layer upon layer. Only when we are able to look back and peel away at our life, layer by layer, can we begin to understand why we are here on earth for a short while. And for some of it, happy or sad, it brings a tear.

Yesterday, at the cemetery, I saw empty spots in the cement walls. I wondered if it is possible to buy one of the spots. I will ask. For the first time, although Roy and I have spoken about being cremated and having our ashes scattered across the lavender field, I am distrustful of what will happen to the land here after I die.

A year ago, I thought my nieces would take over this land with Terence, and dreamt of them loving this spot as we do. Now that they no longer view me as a treasured part of their lives, I am forced to look at life, and death, in a new way.

I don't think that, after my death, that there will be a reason to cherish the lavender garden. In the Mugnano cemetery, people go ever day to visit and take flowers to relatives and people they love. I would rather be there, surrounded by people who want to visit, than cast away, having the land dug up and something modern put in its place.

I love this village so much that I cannot imagine being anywhere else. When we go back to Boston, we visit my father's grave without fail. I do not know if anyone else visits him, but we do. And so I think that there must be an official place for me to be, even if it is only on each November 2nd for people to come and look over and remember a person who lived with them for awhile and loved sharing their village with them.

November 4
Roy and I get up early to go to Soriano for Roy's blood test for his cholesterol. It is over in ten minutes, and after we have coffee at a nearby café, Roy takes me to Orte for another session of therapy. It is really working. My shoulder feels ever so much better.

Rosella asks me if I stayed up all night, I am so early, but she allows me to get onto the machines right away. The second machine is so strange that it's current has my arm actually leaping up every few seconds. It is a little strong (forte), but I try to ignore it, reading a book.

Afterward, we go to an outdoor market in Orte and buy some more bitola (swiss chard) so I can make that wonderful soup again. I'll post the recipe on this site soon. We come home and Stefano comes by to look over the project. He will start some preliminary work this next week, but won't do the project until between Dec. 11th and Christmas. It appears that the house was very well built in 1935, including steel rods through the floors. Stefano will be putting more steel reinforcing in the floors and walls, but Roy does not think we will need any kind of "turnbuckle" on the outside of the house. We will see.

Today is another really beautiful and warm day. I am able to do some puttering outside, including giving a little haircut to a few of the older boxwood on the front terrace. I am taking it easy on my arm until it is stronger, but grooming one or two plants a day will go quickly and won't cause much pain.

I call Loredana to check in, and she is getting better by the day, but is very tired in the afternoons. I forget to tell her that we ran into Anselma yesterday and she is going to call Lore. We hope that Lore is well enough to return to Mugnano soon. We do miss Lore and Alberto.

We stop at Dottoressa Ofelia in the afternoon for a prescription for my new gynecologist. I have to wait almost an hour to see Ofelia to get it. That done, we fly to Viterbo for an appointment with Dottoressa Maria Battestoni, a woman who is a friend of Elizabeth's. I like her very much. Strange, but she only recommends mammograms every 2 years for me. Otherwise, one more good connection in Italy. She is a private doctor, not part of the state system, so her visit is €80. Expensive by Italian standards, but not by American....She invites us to come to her agritourismo with Elizabeth in Bolsena sometime. That must be where Tomasso worked this summer. Something new to look forward to!

We drop off Sofia at home so she can take a nap and go to Roscio for a simple dinner. That place is really a trip. The owner and another man spend each night standing outside, directing traffic. That means directing the truckers that stop their huge trucks there for a meal. When we arrive, there must be 20 trucks lining the street and parking lots. Inside, I am the only woman except for two waitresses and the cooks. The place really rocks.

For some strange reason, we really like to eat there. The atmosphere, aside from the truckers, is quite good. Tablecloths and cloth napkins, attractive but not overdone décor, and of course the big TV in the corner for all to see. They have a new menu and it is actually getting trendy. I have a salad of fennel, grapefruit, oranges, black olives and shaved parmesan. A nice break from pasta. And their grilled meat is always excellent.

We get home to find out that I am going to be deposed while I am in Boston, and go to bed on that sad note.

November 5
What a beautiful day! A funny time in Orte at the hospital, and then we come back to Mugnano for our flu shots from Dottoressa, who has office hours in the village on Wednesday mornings. Last year she would not give us shots, telling us they are only for the old people. What a difference a year makes. She includes us this year in her bunch of old folks...180 flu shots for her patients. That is quite a case load.

She is in a wonderful mood, and tells us that she is reading Schopenhauer. She wants to understand why her patients behave the way they do. That is heavy slogging, and perhaps I'll even try to read him some day. There is so much to learn about life!

She is not happy continuing to prescribe Imigran for my migraines, and tells me that there is a special research clinic at the hospital in Perugia where she will schedule me to go in January to research my headaches. That should be interesting.

Suzanne called yesterday to say that Judith will use Fabiana as her notaio and that her Amelia house deal will be done next month. Judith will fly over for a week. But the great news is that Suzanne will have two concerts nearby in December, on December 19th in Ostia Antica and on the 21st in Rome, perhaps in the Music Center. She will also go to Paris for five days, but will come here to visit us as well. And of course we will go to her concerts. Perhaps she will join us here for Christmas or New Year's. It will be wonderful to share some of the holidays with her.

Roy works on the top part of the bathroom cabinet out on the terrace, in anticipation of Spaccese, who will be here this afternoon. When they are through, we will only have to wait for Enzo to install the heated towel bar for the bathroom to be finished.

Outside the moon glows and the sky turns lavender and gray. It is time for a fire. In another hour Tiziano will come by for an English lesson. On Sunday we spoke with him and laughed. He missed the last meeting because he confuses the words Tuesday and Thursday. So we have agreed to never meet on either of those dates and laugh again. If Roy is still working with Spaccese, Tiziano and I will work by ourselves at the table in front of the fire.

November 6
Last evening, while Spaccese worked away with Roy on the electrical work in the bathroom and installing the top sink unit, I waited for Tiziano. Spaccese tells us that he cannot work for us during the day, because he is harvesting his olives, with help from Pepe Fosci, who we think is his cousin. That reminds me. We need to check the three olive trees in the far property and pick them if there are any olives. As Spaccese says, this is a bad year for olives. Our big olive tree has no fruit, and we are doubtful that the other three have any, either. We will check in a day or so.

Tiziano arrives almost an hour late, apologizing for his lateness. We sit on the couch and talk, first in Italian and then in English, about his busy schedule and what he is studying at School. He is taking exams in a week or so, in preparation for receiving his Doctorate in Archeological Studies. He also works at the archeological museum in Amelia and at the museum in Soriano. We start to work on Roy's letter to the mayor, requesting that the commune-owned path in front of our house be repaired, and that a castagno fence and handrail be put in for the safety of anyone who uses the path.

Roy first wrote the letter in English, then used our translation software to turn it into an Italian document. The software is pretty useless, as Tiziano shows us after Roy comes down and Spaccese leaves.

After we finish talking with him about the translation and laughing about our feeble attempts, he tells us about his mother and father and the war his father is having with the mayor. Remember I wrote about Alberto and another man in volunteer firefighting costumes taking the wreath to the caduti memorial on Sunday? Well, Tiziano's parents were very upset that Alberto (who is Vincenzo's son, not the other Alberto who is married to Loredana) and a man from Bomarzo took the wreath. Felice and Giovanni, or other men who actually fought in WWII should have carried the wreath, but it was some kind of favor the mayor did for Alberto. Tiziano thinks the mayor is trying to publicize people doing volunteer work. Well, Tiziano's parents are really angry because the strada bianca in front of their house in the valley below us has huge ruts in the road from the rains. The commune is responsible for maintaining it, but has done nothing. Week by week, month by month, Stefano (the mayor) tells Tiziano's father that it will be done. But nothing happens.

And now that Alberto was allowed to present the caduti wreath, Tiziano's parents are so upset they are practically ready to stage a war against the mayor. I recall that they campaigned against him in the last election. The next election will not be for two years. So can you imagine how Tiziano must be feeling as he helps us to write this letter?

We like the mayor, and are hoping that our wish to turn over a small portion of our land for the community bocce ball court will win him some points with the local voters. In turn, we want him to fix the hill on the side of the path and install a castagno short fence of x-bracing. We will have a meeting with just the mayor in a week or so, and will see how he responds. Since we are right above the only road into the village, our safety concern is of more import to the mayor than the strada bianca on a seldom-used road in the valley. We will see.

Before pranzo, we drive to Vitorchiano to shop, and stop at the way at the Trappist Nuns' little shop. They sell their jams through Paul Ferrari in the Bay Area! We have not tried them, and pick one up, as well as some little gifts for folks in the U.S.

They also sell us some broccoletti from their garden, and since Felice planted broccoletti in our orto garden, we buy a kilo to try it out. I am not sure if I should do anything special with it other than the olive oil, pepperoncini, garlic sauté, and call Loredana in Rome for the ultimate advice. She tells me to wash it thoroughly and take off all the hard stems, but otherwise do what I had planned. It comes out a little bitter, although I did not overcook it. I'd better find something good to do with it, because Roy is now wary of it and we will have lots of it this winter. Perhaps we can try it in a soup, replacing the swiss chard. Do you know about the website called about.com? There is a section on Italian food, and I will also check that out. This is an excellent site. I note that today's entry includes a description of Bomarzo and the Monster Park down the road, as well as a link to ideas about curing olives.

Just before dark, the trees stand out so brilliantly I can hardly believe they are real. The caki tree appears to be shot with neon, the yellow trees down below shine bright gold against a dark green backdrop. The sky is lavender, with clouds turned pink from the setting sun. This picture cannot be real. I get up and stand at the window, looking at a scene I have seen every day for over a year and cannot believe that it is the same scene today. From season to season, and even day to day, the light and condition of the sky and the leaves on the trees are in constant visual change.

Pepe comes by to say that Spaccese will be here tomorrow, because of an emergency. Roy calls Enzo to see when he will return and has no idea what Enzo responds to him. Enzo speaks the most incredible Bomarzese dialect, rattling his words off in machine-gun speed. Roy supposes Enzo will just show up one day to finish his work and get his check.

November 7
Sofi sure hates to go out in the rain. We have a little raincoat for her, just to cover her back, but she looks up at me sadly when I plonk! her down on the gravel and tell her to do her business.

Later in the morning after the clinic we take a short drive to Orvieto to pick up a few gifts and stop at a fast food place near the autostrada for pranzo. Only in Italia would they have a sommelier in full battle garb at a fast food restaurant. The place also sells local wines and Italian gift food items, so a local winery may be sponsoring him. He bows when we walk by with our plastic trays of pasta.

While we are in Orvieto, I think that Sofi has worms. I am not sure...Did she swallow an elastic? I am not sure what the worm should look like. Roy wants to wait but I want to call Marielisa right away. I fret all afternoon and evening. She is such a sweet dog that I can't bear to have anything happen to her.

Tia calls to check in after her quick trip to the Bay Area and gives us the sad news that Joe Leis, owner of the Avenue Grill in Mill Valley, died of a heart attack on Monday. He and Marnie had just returned from Mexico and he was so happy. The good thing is that Bruce and Tia had dinner with them on Friday night. So for Tia and Bruce it was a good way to say goodbye. We liked Joe a lot, and remember our Friday nights fondly at The Grill, at table #9. It is such a small world that we did not know that Tia and Bruce were very good friends of theirs. We would have sent our regards. No matter. We will say a prayer for Joe and remember him with a smile.

I ask Tia about the worms, and she counsels me that she is sure that Sofi has them, but to go to the vet right away and get a prescription. It is normal over here for puppies to have worms. Tomorrow morning we have planned to drive to Norcia for the day, and we will go through Terni to get to the vet early in the morning. I am sad that she will have to wait a night to get some medicine, but she seems fine. What a wimp I am.

November 8
We drive to Terni in the rain on the way to Norcia to take Sofi to Dr. Cristalli, her vet. We are there before the office opens, and another vet beckons us in. When he stops to answer a phone call I ask Roy why we can't see Dr. Cristalli and after a few tears and a short discussion, Cristalli appears and allays my fears. He gives Sofi a pill, telling us to give her another in a month and then twice a year. He advises subtle changes to her diet (add cooked pasta chopped up fine and good Umbrian olive oil. si certo. this is Italy)

The most interesting advice is to take away the bones we have been giving her. We have only been giving her bones for the last week or so, and evidently there is some kind of bacteria that forms in these bones, in combination with the things Sofi sniffs on the ground. He confirms that puppies get these parasites often, and not to worry.

We leave very relieved and take a beautiful ride to Norcia for pranzo. The ride past Terni through the Valdinera (valley of the Nera River) is in peak foliage season. The difference between this and New England is that medieval towers climb up the steep peaks. It is a glorious site. We walk around the town of Norcia and buy lentils, prosciutto and sausages (specialties of the area) and Sofi sleeps in the car while we have a great lunch at Ristorante Granaro el Monte.

On the way home, the ride on the curvy roads is more than Sofi can take. She gets sick, and when we stop, more sick. Just before we reach Terni, we see the Marmore Falls in the distance, water just gushing over the side of the cliffs, and stop to see them more closely. Sofi gets her spirit back and runs with us. So she is all right, probably responding to the long drive and the medicine. When we get home, she is back to her old self. We spend a quiet evening by the fire and she is quiet as can be.

November 9
We walk up to church in the fog, but by the time we reach the square the fog is almost gone, the blue sky overhead promising a beautiful day. We have not seen Felice for days, and he is not in church today, either. Neither is Marsiglia. We hope that they are all right.

The temperature is almost hot, a great day to work outside. While Roy putters, I take the large rake and rake the leaves on the path to the lavender garden and on the whole front terrace. Sofi is in heaven, racing all around the yard, spewing leaves in the air like Pigpen in Charlie Brown. She bounds right into a tall pile of caki leaves and rolls around in ecstacy. When it is time for me to pick up the leaves and put them in a bucket, she races around again, playing with me by darting to and fro from one pile of leaves to another.

Paola comes by for a visit, and we sit outside on the bench in front of the kitchen. Roy brings another chair out of the loggia and it is summer-warm. She tells us that Giuseppe, her uncle, is in the hospital with a heart problem. We have not seen him but she thinks he will be fine. That must be why his wife, Giuseppa, has not been in church, either.

I ask her what is new about the story about the schools having to take crucifixes out of the classrooms. She tells us that it was the result of a lawsuit that was initiated by a Muslim man who is the head of the Muslim community in Italy. He does not want his children to be forced to pray to a Catholic ikon. The case went before a judge, who agreed with him that the crucifixes should be removed. There was a public outcry, and an appeal that has gone to another judge, who is just sitting on it. Well, don't get me started.

I read that the results of a public survey indicated that 97% of Italians did not agree with this first judge. Mamma mia. Of course they don't agree! Italy is so open to people who want to come and live here from all over the world. But the culture is very Catholic and the Italian culture is very important to the Italian people. If someone is of another belief, they can go somewhere the belief is practiced and part of the culture. In American, there is no culture; hence, our inability to reject any kind of practice or way of life. In Italy, the very fabric of the culture is entwined with the Catholic religion.

This issue is a real hot button for me, and you know what happens to me when you press my "hot button". I am tired of Americans and English and Germans coming to Italy and trying to change it to fit into their previous culture and lifestyle. Before we know it, Italy will have no culture. The "I want my Starbucks coffee" mentality drives me crazy. Don't buy a place in Italy if you want to make it "more like home". Sssssssss. Just hear me sizzle, like the compressed air being let out of a Illy coffee can.

We tell her about our idea of a bocce court and ask her what she thinks. She likes the idea. Her boyfriend is Antonio, the President of the Universita Agraria of Mugnano. She will tell him about it. Roy's idea is for his organization to volunteer to build the court, we will provide the land and we will visit with Stefano, the mayor, this week to talk with him about fortifying the path and putting in a castagno hand rail.

This seems too easy. Far too easy. There must be something complicated ahead. Stay tuned. Paula will bring Antonio by next weekend to talk about it and to look over the land.

After dinner, I take Sofi outside before taking her up to bed. The moon is full, and I hear voices down below. Silvana is walking on Via Mameli, near the entrance to our parcheggio, and I call out to her. She is with Baskia's master and Baskia, taking a walk and enjoying the moon. She asks about Loredana and wants to know when she will return. I think it will be a few more weeks.

Roy worked for hours this afternoon on the photos on the website. The photos are his project, as the copy is mine, and he makes some good progress. We are hoping that in a week or so we will be up to date on all the sections, including photos. This website has been a great gift to us from Bob and Lindsey and Alex Kalsey. Not only does it allow us to document our goings on for future reference, we no longer have to write long emails to lots of different people about what is going on. The strangest part of all is that people actually read it!

November 10
Two more treatments and I am done at the clinic in Orte. A woman bids me "arrividerla!" because today is her last treatment. I hope I will see her some day in Orte and greet her. While I am hooked up to the first machine, I hear two people speaking. I cannot figure out what they are saying at all. They speak in a local dialect. Because they are behind a curtain, they sound like characters out of an old Douglas Fairbanks film. I imagine them cocking their heads, wearing knit hats and beckoning each other toward a pirate ship with leering glances. I never do find out what is going on back there, for I am taken to another room and hooked up again to another machine. I have been wearing a wool and paisley scarf, and am able to cover my shoulder with it over the probes. We call this Armani d'Orte.

We drive to Soriano to pick up the results of Roy's blood tests, and have a conversation about the composting Shelly wants to do at the cemetery (which is next to her property). The sindaco is willing to listen to her idea about recycling and composting, and wants her to come up with a solution. I tell Roy I think Shelly should buy a mulching machine, and put a bin right outside the cemetery and collect the dead plants and flowers a few times a week. She can then have all the compost herself. Any other plan would require someone doing the work, so it does not make sense to have it for the people of the village. I don't think they will really care.

Roy thinks we need a little mulching machine. I think doing the composting has become a real drag for him, because it takes so long for everything to break down. So we stop at CAMI on the way back. Cami sells farm and agricultural machines and supplies, and they offer a used excellent machine to him at a great price. It was returned by a farmer who could not use it to cut olive branches, which are very hard. Shelly probably needs one bigger than this, but perhaps if we buy this machine it will give her some ideas.

Back at home, we hear Don Luca on the street. There has been another death, this time a mother of someone in the village who lives in Rome, but wanted to be buried in Mugnano. At first we think it is Marsiglia's brother, because his wife is held on either side by neighbors as the procession slowly moves below us. But Marsiglia and Dina are nowhere to be seen.

After the procession, we take photos of the path in front of our house to take to the mayor tomorrow. We then go up into the village below the tower and take photos of the wonderful crossed castagno fence rail that we want used on the path. If we are in luck, we will get our wish of a protected path below our house. We will also talk with Stefano about the bocce court. This next weekend we will go over the idea with Antonio and Paola. There are many young adults emerging in the village, so we are confident that we can resurrect bocce here. Decades ago there was a court, but it was paved over for parking due to lack of interest. How very exciting if we can make this new plan happen. Knowing our past adventures in the US, would you expect anything different? We are bringing old culture back into the village, and look forward to getting the people to share our excitement about it.

Felice comes by, and it is so good to see him. We ask about Marsiglia, and she hurt her leg yesterday morning in the bathroom. She slipped, we think. Be we think they both are fine, so no need to worry. We give him a lavender wand to take home to her. He tells us to pick one of the cabbages, because it is ready and the rain will soak into it and rot it. I go through some of my cookbooks for a recipe and will cook it tonight. I will save some of it out for a minestrone to make tomorrow or the next day.

The moon is right, so tomorrow Felice will scatter the seeds for the ground cover. They will grow below the big olive tree and also in the garden in front of the path to the lavender field. Both areas are looking un-manicured.

I think Roy is a little overwhelmed with the volume of leaves on the terrace. Yesterday we raked them all up and this morning, leaves from Roy's "damn caki" tree blanketed the terrace below it. There was no rain, nor was there wind, but there was fog. The tree has turned shades of terra cotta and bright red, but somehow the tree is not as dramatic as it has been in previous years. We think the long hot summer has had an impact. It certainly has had an impact on the olive crops.

Shelly calls us after pranzo to ask if we want to bundle our olives with theirs to take to the agraria. They need 200 kilos to have the olives be crushed as a separate crush, and they only have 50. We have none. Niente. We laugh because we wonder what she was thinking. If she has 50 with 125 trees, how many did she think we'd have with one? or 4?

Tia calls. "We need help!" For Tia and Bruce, the olive harvest will be abundant. We will be meeting them tomorrow for pranzo at NonnaPappa, and will discuss going over to help them harvest. They will have plenty of olives, and we will get some of their oil for our efforts, not that it matters. I gently