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OCTOBER 2006
October 1
On these early fall days we're surrounded by fog when we awake. It is a fog that slowly burns off so that the village sits like Brigadoon on top its tufa cliffs by mid morning.
On this morning we're up early, but the car won't start. We're dressed and out of the house at 7:30, and Dino rolls the car down the hill to start it. This is a very bad sign. Perhaps we need a new battery. Perhaps something was disconnected when the work was done on it this past week.
The car starts by compression, although the manual indicates that rolling it down the hill in neutral starts it "by inertia"...doesn't sound very inert to me, but what do I know about cars?
We pick up Helga at Stein's and arrive right on time at Diego's Castello Santa Maria. After an Italian breakfast of homemade croissants and jam and fruit and yoghourt and coffee, we walk up to the chapel and participate in a service, with Stein wearing a black vestment at the altar. But just what is he wearing?
His black "robe" has a hood, and only later do I learn that he picked it up somewhere on his travels. Diego turns on the automated organ to begin the service, and by mistake the Mendelsohn Wedding March plays. Stein looks at us, and it's probably his little joke, noting our 25th wedding anniversary this past week. I have to hold back a laugh.
New sculptures have been built since our last visit, meticulously crafted based on architect Buzzi's outlandish designs. The grounds, which Brian calls "The sacred and the profane" are even more preposterous, but we still love to take people there. Roses and scented flowers flourish in a secret garden near the exit, and the two-hour tour seems to finish in no time.
Tomorrow first thing I'll help Dino to push the car out of the parcheggio down the hill and he'll return to the mechanic. If it can't be fixed right away, we'll rent a car for our trip. We are not to be daunted...
After dropping Ulla back at Castello Santa Maria, we drive to La Boticella in Castiglione in Teverina. Luckily, we're able to park on a hill. After a meal of homemade papparadelle and lepre (wild hare) and tartuffo (truffles) we drop Helga off at Stein's and say goodbye until December. They hope to return for a weekend after we return from the U.S.
I really will miss her, and already miss Stein. They have become such good friends that we feel a void now without them here in the magic house formerly owned by Karina and then Karen. Helga will leave narcissus bulbs for us, and we'll plant them around as a reminder of our good friends.
Everywhere the vendemmia is in full swing. Mario calls to tell us he cannot come tomorrow to weed-whack, and we surmised as much with the continued warm weather. So the grass and weeds will just continue to grow until we get back, with Sofi kept out of the tall grasses on the far property.
There is word from San Remy de Provence that the other participants in the painting workshop on Wednesday have not confirmed, so I may have a private lesson. I spend a few hours sketching clothes hanging up on pegs on a wall, for it is folds of fabric that I want to learn how to paint.
Dino and I have a conversation that it is possible that I might graduate from painting ceramics to canvas after this trip. A Russian painter in Orvieto whom I can take lessons from is a good friend of Franco and Candida. We will see...
There is so much to look forward to, and so I turn in with dreams of painting women rustling about in taffeta ball gowns and luscious drapes, crinkled and mussed and images of light and shadow, all in sepia tones...
October 2
This is a dress rehearsal for tomorrow, with everyone up early. I follow Dino to the car, and stand behind it with the gate open, helping to rock it forward and down the hill to start it. Dino will be waiting when the mechanic arrives for work in Vitorchiano. We're hoping it won't be something major.
On this foggy morning, Sofi sleeps while I switch clothes in the armadios from summer to winter, using the opportunity to throw out some of the things I've worn for years. I really don't wear many of the things I own, so perhaps should donate most of them. That would be a good way to give us more room, and Angie's friend who runs the dog rescue operation needs lots of things that she can resell.
I take the opportunity to lay out clothes for the trip, and won't pack much for this, either. The weather forecast is for rain...
Dino calls and yes, we have to buy a new battery. The folks from Ripabianca will be here just after pranzo, and with a meeting with the geometra at the house in Tenaglie at 4 P M, we're hoping they'll be on time.
The planters arrive late, they are not correct, but they are close enough that we accept them. Only one has a cut out on the bottom, and each of the medallions is on the wrong side of each planter. They do look wonderful just the same. So Dino and the owner of the factory take them out of the truck and stack them in the parcheggio. Later, Stefano will cut out the holes that we need in the bottom of three of them before moving them up to the terrace where the wisteria will grow.
In the meantime, we need to make room for scaffolding, for the quote has come in from the painter, and it's very expensive, but we need to have the work done. So I ask Dino if Luca will include painting the interior hallway, since there will be scaffolding all around. No, it's not the right kind of scaffolding, but we'll ask him anyway.
We're resigned to moving ahead, and that should happen in a couple of weeks, just in time before the winter rains. So we drive to Tenaglie to meet with the geometra, and do some more cleaning out of the house, with Sofi along this time to see what all the fuss has been about.
The geometra sends two young assistants, so we let them measure and give them a little guidance here and there, telling them where the kitchen will probably go, where the bathroom upstairs will be situated.
There's time to say hello to Gaedano and to meet his sister Ottavia, or at least we think it's his sister. Or is it his wife? He does not introduce her, so we introduce ourselves and Sofi runs over for a sniff.
"Were you the eighth child?" Dino asks her. Very often in Italy children are named by number, and she laughs, telling us that she was the seventh child and they had no intention of having any more.
We spend a while at the bank waiting for the manager, and when he's free he tells us what we have to do to set up a bank account for someone else. A notaio in Boston can provide what we need and include an Appostile, and he gives us the wording and list of things to include. It 's painless enough, and we forward that to our friends in Boston.
The day is humid, we're hot, and with only a few daylight hours left before we leave for a week in France, we drive home and begin to get the house ready for Angie, who'll arrive tomorrow to stay with Sofi.
The postings this next week will be brief, as I won't be writing a journal while we're gone. I suppose it will be a vacation from YOU. See you!.....
October 3 to 10
I did not keep a journal for our trip, which took us from our house to the South of France with a quick drive down to Barcelona and ferry ride from there to Rome and then home.
So here are some highlights:
October 3
As you know, Dino loves to drive, so at just before 7AM we drop Sofi off at a woman's house a few towns away. Sofi will be picked up by our regular dog sitter, Angie Good, later today. Sofi loves Annika, who sat with her a week or so ago, so it's not difficult to drop her off this time.
We're on the road and for the next ten hours Dino drives like a machine up the A-1 and on and on past Genoa, through the tunnels and along the southern coast of France.
I don't know what I expected, but after we reach France the landscape changes. Sarah and Alush are on our minds. I can hear Sarah extol the rocky landscape and evergreen mounds and am inspired. After all, it is the evergreen mounds and gravel and stone and roses that I love, each of them in profusion in the province of Provence.
Mapquest misses its mark...at a fork in the road it does not tell us to follow the highway sign. Instead we take the road less traveled, and it takes another hour to find the road we have been looking for.
We arrive in San Remy Du Provence and it is a marvel of a little town. I suppose it is a Mill Valley type of town, but one that is a little "down at the heels". We reach our little hotel, Under the Fig, and park on pale gravel outside an arbor of wisteria. Again, I am inspired.
The room is fine, but I'm worn out, with a headache in full swing. While I try to sleep it off, Dino takes a walk through town and returns with a tube of an amazing gel made in the U S called Biofreeze from the farmacia.
He tells me to put a dab of it on my temple where the worst of the ache throbs. It fires up like tiger balm, and less than thirty minutes later I'm up and dressed. This is an amazing product.
We'll have to pick up more and tell the farmacista how amazing this product is. If you have migraines, or aches of any kind, this is the stuff you need. Look it up online and try it.
We've confirmed my painting lesson for tomorrow and it will be nearby, so walk into the center of town just a few streets away.
What is wrong with this gem of a town is that it is noisy with cars driving very fast along the little streets. All day, all night, the sounds of the cars break through the tranquility of the marvelous setting.
I try to ignore the noise as we walk by centuries' old buildings in ochre and beige and pale yellow, their pastel shutters open to the light.
Speaking of the light, there is a kind of glow, perhaps because the sun sits a little lower in the sky on these fall days. I can't wait to paint...
We stroll around and find a brasserie on the main street, where we sit on a banquette and take in the scene. It is just what I imagined, with less smoke. Yes, people smoke in restaurants here, but that will end next year. The statistics are that almost eighty percent of the people think it's a good idea. That surprises me. I thought the French would rebel against this.
After a good meal, we walk around a little. Did I mention the plane trees? They frame the roads, frame the little streets, and on these fall days are what I will most remember about France.
Sun dapples the pale and spotty bark through elm-like leaves, and we're able to crunch just a few leaves underfoot. I love almost everything about this place.
What was it that Americans griped about? The people are very kind and helpful, even if they don't speak a word of either English or Italian. Can you imagine that we'd feel comfortable if they only spoke Italian? How far we've come!
October 4
Today is a day I will long remember. It begins with a quick breakfast of coffee in big ceramic cups and warm homemade croissants and jam in the dining room. I'm anxious to paint, but the lesson is not until 2PM. So we walk up to town.
But what's this? It is a huge marketplace! Stalls all over town draw us closer like the smell of just-made bread. For the next few hours we're drinking in the colors and textures of fruit and vegetables so fresh the dew still remains.
And there is fish! And there is bread...in such profusion and in so many shapes that it takes willpower to not stand in line. Dino is not a good person to buy bread and cheese and fruit and wine and sit on a blanket to enjoy it. So I dream about it instead, stopped in my tracks by a stand of beautifully quilted fabric coverlets.
We find a coverlet perfect to drape over the couch in the kitchen, but it's the first stand we've seen, so can't really haggle for it yet. As the morning wears on I'm drawn back to this man from India; his coverlets are the best in the market. And we succumb.
There are dresses for the grand daughters, a pair of wool pants for me, tablecloths and tablecloths and more tablecloths; and lots of fabric. I somehow hold off, knowing that the enormous market at Uzes this weekend will have the same.
We stop at a small café for a quick pranzo, for I don't want to be late for my class. And we walk over to the studio, arriving at 2PM and are met by Pascale. She speaks English and there is a surprise.
I am alone. The lesson is private, and she is to be paid by the hour. So for the next four hours this woman and I embark on what is to be a special friendship.
Dino drives off and does not have as good a time as I do. He backs into something, damaging his side door. It is not a big dent, but injures his ego. So when he returns to us, he is very sad. He's taken it to a garage and we'll leave it there until tomorrow morning. I feel so badly for him, his downcast face reminding me of our old cocker spaniel, Huntley.
I, on the other hand, am fairly levitating upon his arrival. I have finished the major part of the painting, and it is to be called "Pascale's bull". Here is the story...
Because I am an inquisitive sort, I want to know about this kind woman and her life. Her studio is called Atelier Blue, and her use of the color we call "French blue", which is fairly bright and has a touch of lavender in it, is evident in each painting around the studio. Many of the pieces are really finely crafted.
Pascale speaks English, and she knows that I want to learn how to paint folds of fabric. So she stands a tall easel in the center of the room and places a large piece of heavy linen over it, folds undulating just as I'd imagine.
I think this exercise will consist of painting the folds of linen, and she mixes some colors of paint. First she outlines the shape with a stick of charcoal, then begins with the blue. The color is too bright for me, but she's not worried. It is easy to change the color, to paint over what she began.
This process is so unlike painting on ceramics, where each brush stroke has meaning and mistakes are difficult to correct. I feel light as air; her deft strokes are like notes in a violin concerto, long and smooth and sweet.
I take up the brush and as I stroke the canvas with my brush, making sweeping movements as we talk, she begins to tell me the story of her life...
What is important here, is that she met her husband in San Remy some years ago, settled down and had two children. He became abusive and selfish, her life so difficult with his continued unfaithfulness, that she left with her children and found a small place for the three of them to live.
Because the story is private, I cannot recount it here, other than to say that in her own way she found the courage and will to survive with the children she loved. Her work in her studio helped them to move on. What is important is that she is a kind woman, choosing to face the challenges of life in a positive and gentle way, so different from the attitude of her former husband.
As the hour becomes two hours and then three, the painting transforms from a piece of linen to a blue matador's cape. All of a sudden we both realize the cape now has a name...Pascale's bull.
Instead of a sword underneath the cape to hold it in the air, Pascale wants a butterfly. So she walks upstairs, returning with a dictionary. Under the word "butterfly" are about twenty different ones, and we agree on a particular one of a vivid green and black.
Dino arrives about fifteen minutes before six, in time to take a photograph of the two of us before the painting. Later I will paint the background and have the canvas stretched, but for now we are all so very pleased with the result.
Did I tell you that the light and shadows of the folds seem to float off the canvas? Before we leave we agree that we'll return for a week in the spring, and perhaps even rent a little house next door from her.
With a hug we agree to keep in touch, and walk back to the bed and breakfast to protect our new treasure. I fairly float back to our room.
For the next few days, we attend a few events of the Mediterranean Garden Society. Since I'm writing about it some days later, I don't really remember a lot, other than to say that many of the people are enjoyable and the gardens are interesting as well. We meet a couple from Italy we like a great deal who live in Le Marche, and we'll see them after we return home. But now we have other adventures ahead of us...
October 5
We spend more time walking through San Remy, and it is really noisy. Cars drive as though the drivers are practicing for Formula One racing. The plane trees, however, are tall and so very soft in color and texture. Their white bark is dappled with ochre, peeled off and spotted; the result a wonder.
Everywhere we look is soft and grey and pale and creamy yellow, except for shutters here and there of bright lavender-blue. The town is rather "down-at-the-heels", although prices in the shops are not cheap. It is a "shabby-chic" marvel of a town.
I'm now inspired to draw and paint everything in sight, my eyes visualizing each thing I focus upon in a new light. We purchase the paints we'll need for the rest of the painting, for it will take six months or more to dry, and I'll certainly want to finish it soon.
We pick up a brochure from the Chamber of Commerce, with rental houses to study for our next trip, in the event Pascale's place is not ready. And we end the stay with another Vietnamese meal, so enjoying the exotic flavors we remembered so well from our life in the U. S.
We say c'e vediammo to San Remy and drive North to Uzes. We love our hotel, situated right in the main part of town, again with those huge plane trees framing the main boulevards.
The owner speaks English, and we think the whole little hotel is occupied with other members of our group. Thankfully we have a room at the front of the hotel with a balcony, overlooking the tiny side street and a bakery just across from us.
We eat a dinner at a local brasserie and it is fun. I love beef stew, and the French are masters of it. The meal is nothing fancy, but very tasty. All the while, my painting stands in a protected space behind the desk in our room. The owner has seen it, and agrees to put the word out to anyone cleaning the room not touch it.
Back in our room, we're determining that there will be a mercato on Sunday near the coast, and instead of attending the annual meeting of the MGS, we'll take a jaunt there instead.
These French markets are marvelous. Our new friends from Le Marche tell us which ones to visit, and there is one in the town of Pezenas which is a twice-a-year event. Sounds great. Let's go!
October 6
Well before dawn, we awake to smells of fresh baking bread wafting through our balcony window from the boulangerie across the street. It is as if we're turning pages of a book, the smells exactly as one might imagine when reading a French novel. But it's before dawn, so we lie in bed for another hour or two, loving our room and the big tub. We're not big on bath tubs, but this one even entices Dino.
After breakfast, we attend the tour of Fontchateau, an elegant eighteenth century estate owned by a couple of Dutch art collectors. It has been meticulously restored, and although we are not invited inside, I can see the husband working away behind a desk and imagine the wonderful fabrics we would see if we were invited to venture inside.
In front of the garden lies an interesting labyrinth of Vibernum, and we're told that Vibernum is the most popular evergreen found in southern French gardens because it is so "adaptable". We have a number of Vibernum plants at home, chosen mostly by Sarah, although I don't think a labyrinth is anything we'd undertake...
After pranzo at another garden nearby, we are treated to a delicious tour of Pierre Berge's garden. Pierre is the director of the fashion house of Yves Saint Laurent. I've anticipated seeing manicured formal gardens and gravel, as well as fabulous fabrics.
The property is just outside of the town we've just stayed in for two days, San Remy. Pierre wanted a place so close to town that he could walk in to pickup his bread and newspaper in the morning. But once he purchased the property, he found himself driving the few blocks to pick up his purchases...So much for his fantasy...
There are extraordinary and wonderful, magical views wherever we turn. The best part of the tour on this lovely, lovely afternoon is being able to languor away on benches and chairs in the garden, dreaming as if the place is ours...
We return to Uzes to have dinner with Carol Smith and a few others from the group on the other side of town. And then we return to our room to await the delicious smells of bread wafting in our window in a few hours...
October 7
It's just before dawn, the smells of freshly baked bread competing with sounds of trucks and men unloading tables and objects to sell at today's famous market.
We can't have breakfast early enough, and no, we'll not attend any of the events today until this afternoon, when we'll visit the factory of the famous vases at Anduze.
For the rest of the morning, we walk and walk and walk some more, picking out fabric and gifts and at least one cashmere sweater. My beloved taffeta is not to be found in the color I'm dreaming about, but I do pick up a few meters of striped silk, to use as a guide when painting those shadows and folds.
The French love purple and bright rose colors as well as those muted greys and browns. I believe my design sense is French, but would love it transported to Italy. So we pick up a few tablecloths at reasonable prices and place mats. Nothing extravagant so far...
We get in the car and drive around and around, looking for characteristic ceramics, but don't find any unpainted ceramics that I can paint myself.
We drive to Anduze ourselves, hoping to pick up some finds before the tour groups arrive. We pick up one old pitcher and a couple of small pieces, but don't especially like the vases that are used in Versailles. They're just too frilly.
Inside, during a tour, we're able to ask some intelligent questions, based on our previous knowledge of baking ceramics. The tour is interesting. What's most interesting is the amount of space that must be used to let the vases dry before they are fired. No wonder they are so expensive.
We return back to Uzes for a quiet dinner at another Vienamese restaurant. It's expensive, but the only game in town for such exotica. And very tasty.
October 8
It's Sunday, and the boulangerie is closed. So no tasty smells this morning. We have breakfast and ride South to Pezanas. This is a big market. We're always looking for kitchen chairs, and on this trip hope we won't find them. We do find a lovely ikon and a very old coverlet for the bed, as well as two little old metal dogs for Dino's collection.
When it's time for pranzo, we eat outside at a local brasserie and sit in the sun, just enjoying the day. We've passed on any number of chairs as well as a few easels, but loved the eye candy and beautiful furniture from stall after stall, shop after shop. We'd like to return next year, to this market, to San Remy, to Uzes, perhaps to rent a house for a week...
We attend the closing night of the Mediterranean Garden Society at a local chateaux, and thankfully a wonderful woman sits next to me from Paris. I'm aware that Dino and I are really a solitary pair, so used to being by ourselves that we no longer have a great gift for gab with strangers. We look forward to getting back to our room right after dinner and to leaving the next day on the last part of our trip.
Oct 9
We're looking forward to driving down to Barcelona, thinking we'll take our time and arrive for a late pranzo, then board the traghetto for the twenty-hour trip to Civitavecchia and then home.
The drive is uneventful, with the landscape changing as we move from France to Spain. Just before reaching Barcelona we stop at a rest stop and there is a tourist office there with someone who speaks English.
By now we have a lot of things in our car, and we ask him if the car will be safe parked outside while we have pranzo. "Yes, nothing to worry about" he tells us. We think nothing of it.
He gives us a map of Barcelona and tells us where the restaurant is, and that we'll be in the port area of the city. We're not any more cautious than usual, so when we find a place to park just about one hundred meters from the restaurant we've been recommended to try, we think nothing of it.
The restaurant, is a Jack's kind of place, with characteristic old black and white tiled floors, banquettes against the wall, and fish dishes as specialties on the menu. We order paella, after a salad of languostinos on a puree of fresh tomatoes that is divine. The paella is overcooked and tough. But the scene is just what we expected, and we enjoy the overpriced meal just the same. We have an extra hour or so, do take a walk around the neighborhood, stopping in shops and picking up a scarf here, a pair of shoes there. The area is somewhat seedy but characteristic, and some of the shops are very interesting.
It's about a quarter to four, and it's time to board the traghetto. So we get into our car and pull out of the spot. But what's this? We have a flat tire. So Dino drives around the block and parks in a bus stop where there is plenty of light and there are plenty of people. So we think we are safe while he changes the tire.
He's at the back of the car while I stand in the street on the driver's side, ready to hold the tools he'll need. Someone comes up behind me on a bicycle and pounds once against my shoulder blade. When I spin around, he points in another direction to tell me where we can get help.
About three seconds later he is followed by another man on another bicycle. We find out much later that this man is wearing gloves with razor blades sewn into it, and he reaches out and grabs Dino's borsello from around his neck and slices it off in less than a second. It happens so quickly that Dino is not aware his purse is gone until at least a few minutes later.
By now, Dino is thinking that the borsello is in the car, but it is not. He finishes changing the tire and rushes off to the shops we've just been in, in the event he left it behind. I'm waving at passing cars, looking for a police car, and finally one pulls up.
The driver is sure someone ripped Dino's borsello off him, and tells me to go to the local police station to get a denuncia. He won't wait for Dino to return, nor will he show me where the station is, just tells me to take a right here, a left there.
They drive off, Dino returns, and we drive off to find the police station. We're on a main road with no place to turn, and it takes twenty minutes to find the station. We're then told to wait for almost thirty minutes, only to find out that we can't get the report at that station.
Time is running out. It's twenty minutes past five, and the traghetto leaves at 6PM. With no money, and no id or phone or credit cards, we cannot stay over night. SO we spend fifteen minutes looking for the station, and then give up.
We arrive at the traghetto and walk into the office, where we have to wait about fifteen minutes. It's now twenty minutes to six. We reach a woman behind a window and when it's our turn I burst out crying. I don't know if I'm really upset or I think the drama will move her or a little of both.
We have a confirmation slip that we have paid for the voyage, so she agrees to let us board, even though we have no identification. She tells us she'll let us board, but we may be prevented from entering Italy...
Once on board, we find our cabin, and I have a bag of two oranges and a few crackers to last us for twenty hours. We decide to see if we can find the Commissario, and at last we have found our angel.
This man is a wonder. He speaks English and agrees to write up a report, so asks us to write down everything that we have had stolen. He then gives us a chit for dinner and offers to cover us for breakfast and pranzo as well. I go back to the room to calm down, while Dino stays with him. The two of them have a good time laughing and talking and sharing stories. Somehow the evening ends, and we even have a good night's sleep.
October 10
Early in the morning the traghetto crosses between Crete and Sardinia and it's a very smooth sailing. We eat our oranges, not wanting to take advantage of our new friend's generosity.
He finishes the report, which is not a denuncia but is the next best thing, and ushers us to the Civitavecchia police station upon our arrival in the port, where we are questioned and a quasi report to let us disembark is written. With a bad tire and driving on a spare, we have no money to repair it, so have to drive home, where Angie is frantic, worried about us. We've had no money to call her to tell her we are all right.
We arrive home and Dino calls the credit card companies. The night ends with us relieved to be at home, with more adventures still ahead of us, but with the knowledge that we can no longer have the house painted.
We have had €2,000 in cash stolen, and it was half of the deposit needed to begin the painting job. We had planned to pay it as soon as we returned. So perhaps we'll recoup some money from somewhere and will be able to paint the house in the Spring.
October 11
We meet with Alessandro first thing at his insurance office in Attligliano. He gives us a list of what we need to find; he'll nowstart the process for the claim.
Then we drive on to Rome to the American Embassy. It's right smack in the middle of the high rent Via Veneto area, so Dino drops Sofi and I off on the corner, but the building is guarded with many police, who won't let Sofi inside. So we wait for Dino and then he takes Sofi back to the car while I begin the process. We're finished in time for pranzo and decide to have burgers at Hard Rock Café, Roma. come no?
We start the rounds...ACI in Viterbo for a duplicate membership card, but they need a denuncia to do anything about a driver's license. Really, the carbinieri need to write a denuncia first, so we drive there and see the Marshalo and one of the regular Carabinieri who agrees to write one up tomorrow. First we'll need our Italian identity card numbers from the Comune. Then with photos they'll arrange to get our drivers licenses for us.
We're both really tired, mostly from the emotion of it all. I start one of my headaches, but a small application of the magical gel stops it.The night is cool, but the days have been warm and lovely.
Our tomatoes are ready to rip up. Many remain on the vine but look as though they have a kind of pox on them. I don't really care about the crop, about much of anything. I'm still in a fog.
We pick up my mezzolune painting of the young boy and it's quite good. What do you think? Oh. I forgot. We have no camera....Well, when we have one we'll post a photo. So don't look for photos for at least a week. And the photo we took with Pascale of me and the painting is gone, as are all of the photos of our trip.
It's a good thing we have a lot of minestrone frozen from a few weeks ago. I don't have the energy to cook.
October 12
There is a meeting this morning with Diego Costaguti, to view 4 houses and 2 apartments in the castello and the surrounding borgo. It will be interesting to work with him, for we like the properties very much. He is also very friendly and we believe an honorable man. We look forward to getting to know him.
There is a possibility that an apartment in the castello will be offered for sale, with pool and housekeeping services included. If you're interested, contact us for specific details. There will only be one of these apartments for sale in the entire castello, and we've been given the exclusive right to offer it. At this point it's in the formative stages, but quite exciting.
We've a lot to do to catch up on our lost documents, so drive on to see Ivo at our Comune. We give him photos and our ID cards (Carti di Identita) will be ready in a few days. He gives us a copy of this year's Palio magazine, for we've offered to translate it into English. We have some time...
Next we drive over to meet with the Carabinieri to fill out the denuncia for the robbery in Barcelona. We hand over what we have, and tell him we'll return in a day or so with other information he needs.
Dino begins research on a camera to replace the one that was stolen, and we will find a better camera at about one third the price of the last one. Technology surely changes quickly.
I want to return to painting again. Perhaps tomorrow things will calm down in the afternoon...I want to paint the six dessert plates that are the wedding present for Paola and Antonio. I have two more to paint as well as a serving plate, so will probably give them the six plates and keep two small plates and the serving plate in case we want to paint them for someone else. They'll be pears, in the chatreuse green to match their kitchen, in a modern square-ish design.
There are many things to smalto and paint before we go to the U S at the middle of November. Or I can just take some things we have. But I'd like to take some of the baking dishes I've made this summer, so without exerting any pressure on myself, I'll see what I can do. It should be fun.
October 13
Mario cuts through the early morning fog with his weed wacker, spewing blades of grass in a Moses-like swath. It's easy to convince myself to get up with that droning noise outside our window. Our normal schedule has resumed...
Before the day is through, he's finished working on our property and also at Stein's. Tomorrow we'll rake and do some garden cleanup if the warm weather continues.
Dino pulls up the tomatoes, and it's too bad that many died on the vine. There is not enough sun for the tomatoes this late in the year. All in all, it was not a good year for tomatoes. We think we have plenty put up in jars in the loggia from the past two years. I do need to pick the rest of the basil and freeze it. Perhaps tomorrow...
We spend much of today in Tenaglie and then Viterbo, first looking at a new property to list in Tenaglie with a great view. Dante shows us the property, which had been owned by his aunt, and then takes us to his house and also a wonderful centuries old house he is restoring with a view of the ancient ruins.
When he shows us in the first house we remember that today is Friday the 13th. We ask him if he knows the significance, and he does not. Italians view the 17th as their unlucky day.
We learn that the construction equipment is at the ancient ruin on the hill across from Tenaglie because there is to be a grand restoration of the whole place, which will make Don's and Kate and Merritt's properties even more wonderful...They all have great views of the site. We'll have to meet the owner and learn about the history and what is being done.
This is all really exciting, and something that Don will want to investigate. We'll see Don and Mary late next week but will email them now. The news is too exciting to keep quiet for that long...
We stop at the Comune regarding our identity cards and then drive to Viterbo to pick up new codice fiscale cards (tax id cards). Surprisingly, the person who waits on us tells us that he'll get our medical id cards to us, too. So we've taken care of everything, and now we have to do some waiting.
I forgot to mention that when we stopped at the cleaner's we found out that we won a suitcase at some Attigliano fund raiser. We'll pick it up tomorrow. What fun after so much bad news!
In Viterbo, we research replacement digital cameras, and Dino is sure that we need one with a wide-angle lens. We find one, but it takes three more stops at other shops and a search on the internet to confirm that the first camera is the one to get. So tomorrow we'll be back in business and able to take photos again.
Sofi now seems to be comfortable waiting for us in the car while we do our various errands. She likes to be with us instead of at home alone. So since it is no longer hot we take her with us everywhere. She gets sweeter by the day.
Perhaps tomorrow I can return to painting again. I have a backlog of things to paint before we return to the U S next month and look forward to diving in.
October 14
The sun is up early, with no sign of fog. Dino wants to pick up the new camera first thing, so off he goes while Sofi and I hang out in the garden.
It's amazing how much the garden misses us, even for a week. We can't imagine asking Angie to water as Dino waters, so as I walk around I see a number of plants in distress. It's not a big deal.
So I sit next to an enormous fragrant geranium and clean it up from below, then clip the geraniums on the parcheggio stairs way back as well. Geraniums are the only plants that can survive the very high temperatures there in the summer. They're boring, so one of these days we'll change them.
Sofi acts strangely, and on two occasions stands as if she's frozen. She must be in pain. Earlier she was nowhere to be found and when I called her she came down the stairs. She knows not to do that, and descending the stairs took their toll. Later, her back seems to be fine.
I clip most of the remaining basil plants and make a pesto to freeze in ice cube trays. There is still enough to make another batch in a few days, so perhaps we'll have fresh pesto instead. Dino likes it now, since I make it with more lemon and less garlic.
He's back with the new camera, and we drive off to meet with Donatella in Sipicciano, where she shows us a new property. Walter tells us that his property may be for sale again, and he'll know on Monday. So when Michelle and Enrique arrive next week, we'll have many excellent properties to show them.
We're thinking it will be one two bedroom, two bath suite, instead of two smaller units, and will include pool and hotel privileges (maid service, food service, etc.).
Let us know if you're interested and we'll be sure to fill you in on the details. Since he has many weddings on site, the suite or the timeshare can also reap rental income. Interesting...
Since we have several new properties to put on the site, Dino will be returning to take photos with his new camera. Perhaps we'll wait until the 23rd, when we'll show Michelle and Enrique around. There's plenty to do in the meantime.
Our pal Franco is nowhere to be found, and we're suspecting he's with friends, although we call around and no one seems to know where he is. Candida returns on Tuesday, and we're hoping we can get together with him before then. He is a funny guy, and is probably partying around.
Orvieto is such a friendly town, and he has many friends there. Since today is market day, he'll undoubtedly be in a café somewhere, chatting away.
It's the most beautiful day to be out in the garden, and we get plenty of work done. Dino puts the tomato processing equipment away for another year, and while he does that I paint Paola and Antonio's plates. We'll take them tomorrow to Elena on the way to a client's house to photograph the new intonico on the outside. It's good to be painting again.
Dierdre calls a couple of times to make sure we don't bring anything for pranzo tomorrow. She tells us that the English believe that if a guest brings something he thinks the food won't be good. So we tell her we'll bring wine. That's ok, but she wants a recipe for cornbread or pita bread. She's allergic to regular flour. I'll see what I can find on the internet.
October 15
On this lovely morning we're back at our little church for the first time in several weeks. "Bentornati!" the women tell us when they see us. It is good to be back, and really feels like a family in church on Sunday mornings.
We pay for our firewood, which was delivered some time ago, and drive off to a client's property in Bomarzo to take a few outside shots. On the way, we drop off eight small and one large plates painted with pears with Elena to be fired. They'll be ready in a week.
This next week I'll be back to painting, committed to painting everything that is already smaltoed. Then I'll smalto the remaining baking dishes and we'll get ready to make another trip to Deruta. We're expecting to take a number of things back to California in November, so I've plenty to do, and look forward to every minute.
This is the first time I've seen the Bomarzo property, and photos do not do it justice. It is the Paganini house, the owners run Frenchy's Bistro outside Viterbo.
From there we drive to Dierdre's in Capitone for pranzo with Ruth and a new acquaintance named Michael, who lives in Giove. Dierdre's house is still for sale, but this is the first time we've eaten outside in her garden. The weather is beautiful, and the afternoon fun. It is good to see Ruth again. Dierdre's property is still for sale.
We drive home through Amelia and Lugnano, stopping at Dawn's property to see how she's getting on. Finally she's there, and as we step inside for a short visit, see Kees and Catherine inside painting away. Dawn will move in in a couple of weeks, and we wish her well. The house is wonderful.
I want to take Sofi for a walk, but we arrive home too late, so definitely we'll take a loop in the morning while Dino introduces Judith to Alessandro, our insurance agent.
October 16
The grand weather continues as Dino drives off to meet with Judith. Sofi and I work around in the garden, and prepare a yellow pepper and basil sauce for a pasta at pranzo. One of the peppers is even from the garden, but its skin is not thick and fleshy.
What are we doing wrong? Our peppers never match up to those in the local markets. I suppose we're not really obsessed with the garden, so don't spend enough time on any one thing.
Perhaps that is why a Mediterranean garden is right for us. With a concentration on gravel and boxwood and cypress, we don't spend lots of time in the garden, except when we're taking care of the roses in springtime. I'd rather paint...
Dino has another meeting this afternoon, so I do some work on a plate that Don has ordered with the Tenaglie stemma. I'm hoping it will be painted and out of the oven while he's still here this trip.
We've enticed him with the news about the ruin in full view of his property being restored, and this just adds to the adventure of owning a property in Tenaglie, a town we love. More and more neighbors are calling us to list their houses, so we're becoming experts of this lovely little town.
Sofi and I take a walk around the Mugnano loop, and it's just enough exercise to get my heart pumping. It also tires her out, but she is so happy. It is important for both of us to do this walk every day, and we both like it so much. Let's see if we can get back in the habit, at least on clear days.
October 17
I'm tired of the journal, of writing something every day. But like the walk with Sofi, it is good for me/us. There are a few clouds in the sky, and Miriam told us on Sunday that bad weather is on the way. What does that mean? A little rain, a little chill in the air? It's still paradise to us.
I admit I'm still reeling from the robbery in Barcelona, so hoping that the magic elixir called time will take care of that. Alessandro has worked his wonders, and we're receiving the maximum allowable on the claim. It's not full coverage, but with most of the loss in cash, it's no wonder.
Alessandro is a very good agent, and his company pays its claims. So remember that when you purchase insurance of any kind, especially in Italy. Alessandro is with Fondiaria SAI. It's not always the cheapest insurance, but when you need them, they pay. That's more than I can say for SARA, who treated us as though we were third world refugees when our car was stolen three years ago.
We're still holding our breath regarding the Italian credit card. It will take the rest of the week until we are clear. Do you know that if you have an Italian credit card through a bank that it takes several days for transactions to clear and during that time if any charges have been made, although the account has been "frozen", the cardholder will be liable for the charges?
In the American system, once a call is made to a credit card company the account is frozen and all future charges are frozen. Not so here. But Prime Minister Prodi is rapidly working on catching up...at least with respect to taxes. He's making new laws right and left and they are being enforced, with a lot of grumbling going around.
Perhaps that means the law will finally be passed regarding citizenship. Currently it is a ten-year waiting period after becoming a "resident", or obtaining a permesso di sojourno. We are at 8.5 years. The new law under consideration is for five years. So we're getting all our documents in order in the event the law passes soon. We're looking forward to having dual citizenship.
Today we look at some new properties and take photos of the outside of the houses in Roccalvecce that we'll list next week.
We look forward to seeing Dan and Wendy and one of their daughters tomorrow, and possibly even Duccio and Don and Mary. We're hoping that the good weather continues, so that we can eat pranzo outside.
October 18
Dino makes a quick trip to Amelia and I get ready for pranzo, making a cake and preparing for risotto and spiedini for our friends. It will be a simple affair and hopefully relaxed.
I guess it will be another day or two before I can work on Don's plate, but I do want to have it done for him before he returns to England in ten days or so. I think I can do that if Elena will fire in the next week or so.
The day is mild, and we're ready early, so sit for a few minutes on benches on the terrace. We sit so seldom, that it takes friends arriving for us to relax.
We meet Dan and Wendy's youngest daughter, Kate, and have a wonderful afternoon. They are taking a Grimaldi ferry to Sicily, so have plenty of time to relax and then drive the coast road to the ferry terminal in Civitavecchia.
We aren't very good conversationalists about what is going on in America; we just don't relate to the politics or the scene any more. These friends are very anti-Bush, very liberal, and we like the liberal thinking, especially Kate's.
When we get together with Americans, there is always a lot of grousing about the politics and the War. After a while, I interject that a better use of time would be to find a positive outlet, for all of us to be catalysts for change.
Kate tells us that she and her friends are hopeful but don't seem to find any way to make positive change. With some words of encouragement, I suggest that they come up with some small thing that they can be successful at, and then build on that.
I'd like to suggest that we put a pile of money and resources behind educating young people around the world to affect change in a positive way. After all, this will be their world. Looking back, the world has gone through rises and falls in thinking and acting. I can't believe that the youth of today is sitting back waiting...
I take a walk out to the far property with Kate and Wendy, and can't figure out why we don't spend more time out there. We'll have to check in with Sarah and see what she thinks we could do with some trees to give us some shade in the hottest months out there. We believe she has some emotional "ownership" of this place, and her counsel means a great deal.
Dear Clara, who had a stroke last summer, is ready to sell her very special property in Bomarzo, and we'll go to meet with her on Friday. She wants to sell the property but have the right to spend time there whenever she wants until she dies. For someone who doesn't want to spend lots of time in Italy short term, this may be a very good investment. We'll learn more on Friday.
Next week, after Michelle and Enrique visit, we'll be posting five or six new properties. Each one is characteristic; and we'd enjoy working on any or all of them. Clara's doesn't need a thing; most of the others do.
October 19
I paint Don's stemma, he and Mary come for tea, and Sofi and I spend the afternoon in front of the telly while it rains outside. I'm not used to spending a whole day without Dino and miss him.
He returns with stories of the ups and downs of challenging ATTOs. Finally both parties agreed at the notaio's office and Judith can now commence work on her beloved garden. I think what I would do if the garden were ours, but since it is not, let those thoughts fly out of my head like butterflies.
I restrain myself from opening our books on formal Renaissance gardens, realizing we have so many things to think about that I should let Judith alone with her dreams, knowing full well that she now can make them all come true. What a property! Meraviglia!
With rain continuing outside, we go up to bed.
October 20
This is a property anyone would love, facing Southeast, with many mature trees and two terraces. It was built around enormous Etruscan tufaceous rock formations, and they're evident all around the property.
Clara is doing well after her stroke, and has a woman living with her full time, but is not able to have the use of one hand and arm, and experiences difficulty with one leg. She is a brave woman, loving the property and doing her walking exercises even while we are there. We will post the property this weekend, but it is on the market at Euro325,000, a really good price.
If Clara had not had her stroke, the property would surely not be for sale. So we are hoping to help her, and that the transition will not be too traumatic. We'll show the property for the first time on Monday.
We meet with the geometra in Guardea to make some suggestions on the preliminary plan for Kate and Merritt's property. Then we have a delicious fish and pasta pranzo at "I Gelsi", a restaurant at the crossroads between Alviano and Tenaglie, and talk about what a great property Kate and Merritt have purchased. We look forward to turning it into an even greater property before they arrive in May. Speriamo! It depends on the slowness of the Comune in Montecchio....
We drive to Tenaglie to meet with Dante, and agree to take on his Aunt's property as well. It is not as old as Clara's, has
a small back garden that needs to be graded, but a wonderful view. Dante and his brother agree to throw in two separate plots of land, for a little more money, one of which is flat and is fenced, perfect for keeping a horse. The other has many old olive trees.
The two plots of land are a few minutes' drive from the house, in the countryside between Tenaglie and Guardea. The house needs updating, and is a two-bedroom one bath house with a large ground floor used most recently as a garage and workroom. We have listed it at Euro 115,000.
We drive on to Viterbo, do a few errands, and then come home, for a quiet evening watching T V.
October 21
I've changed my mind from suggesting that they look online at IKEA to put in a simple and inexpensive kitchen to thinking that we can help them to stay within their modest budget and still come up with something very characteristic. Perhaps we'll look at all the options. The property is magic, and we look forward to working on transforming it.
We drive to Tenaglie to meet with Dante, who tells us that if we want to see his parents' house on Monday with clients, we have only to visit Loredana who lives across the street for the key.
"Loredana!" he calls out from the front door, and in a nearby window a woman moves a plant out of the way. She sees who we are, and agrees to be ready if we come to see her on Monday.
This house is not yet on our site, for it is not particularly characteristic, but has a very good view, a back terrace that could be graded for a garden, and plenty of room to transform the space into something characteristic. The price is good, but it needs work.
We stop for a minute to see Don and Mary, and Don has taken off for a run...even in the rain. We stay just for a minute, and promise to get together with them this next week. Hopefully Don's stemma will be ready then, too. They are loving living in Tenaglie, love getting to know their neighbors.
Under an overcast sky, we drive on to Sipicciano for an appointment to see another piece of property, but the owner is ill, and does not show up. Perhaps tomorrow.
We drive home and I make curtains to hang below the sink and a tablecloth, from material purchased in France. But while I'm figuring out the measurements, I realize we don't have an inch to spare. Abastanza, but no more.
The doorbell rings, and it is Vincenza and Augusto. What a wonderful surprise! They bring a gift for our wedding anniversary, and we don't know what to say. The card is very dear. As the years go by, we know we will become closer. The language barrier still holds us back, so we are not completely comfortable having long conversations with them, but we like them so very much.
We invite them in for espresso, but I evidently have the little pot on too high. Augusto has no faith in an American making their espresso, so two times he reminds me about it. Since he makes no comment upon drinking it, I am sure I am a failure at making it; just what he expected.
Since our neighbors don't speak a word of English, we putter along in Italian, telling them about our Barcelona folly. Italians love to hear drama, so the discourse is mostly about that. Ever the knowing one, Augusto sits at the far end of the table facing the window and helps us through our minefield of a story.
Vincenza does not speak a great deal, but wants to speak about dancing, and about exercise. When her parents, Leontina and Italo were young, they danced all the time. Evidently Mugnano had many dances throughout the year, and many people looked forward to them. Now they mostly sit at the edge of the dance floor, dreams of their youth floating by.
She asks me if I want to go to the gym (palestra) with her twice a week, but there is nothing nearby. So we talk about walking and yes, I wrote about walking but am not doing it. Today the bad weather is my excuse.
October 22
We are in luck, for he arrives and I tell Dino this is the day we tell him about our idea for the fundraiser for the restoration of the Mugnano duomo. As the last hymn is being sung, I nod behind me to Tiziano, and across to Mauro, to tell them that we'll proceed to the sacristy subito!
I don't think any of these men want to approach Don Luca, so I stand in front of him and look up into his eyes as I slither through the Italian language, grasping at words and phrases here and there.
"We have an idea for a way to raise money for the restoration of the Duomo," I blurt out. He looks down at me and smiles. "Three priests from Mugnano!" I tell him. "An evening of gospel and then some."
"Singing? No! Not me! I can't sing." is his response. So for the next few minutes I try to cajole him, tell him that Don Renzo wants to do it, that they could do it at Cristo Risorto and get the audience to sing along with them. He does not like this AT ALL, but smiles just the same.
"If you have other priests to sing, I will be there," he follows, after I tell him, "Discorso non finito." I mean to say that I'd like to continue to speak about it some other time, but instead he turns around as if to comply with me as he's leaving the sacristy. Oh Lord, I do not mean to be disrespectful of this kind priest. No one else says a word. I feel as if I'm standing on a hill with a cold wind whipping around me. Every single person seems afraid to speak, afraid that what they say will be the wrong thing.
Don Luca then explains some very interesting information. Regarding a CD, he cautions that people from Bomarzo won't spend money on anything, and certainly not for a CD to support Mugnano. People from Bomarzo do not especially like Mugnano, and probably think we are a drain on their resources. I can accept all that.
Frankly, it does not matter if the concert happens or not. The idea is what is important, and as a member of the festarolo committee this year, it is important for me to present ideas. If some of them are successful, great. If not, the attempt is admirable just the same.
As Mauro and I walk out the sacristy together, I tell him I have another idea, and the kind man does not roll his eyes, as most people do. This time, I tell him that if we have an event on New Year's Eve, perhaps we can get the Barberini's to let us hold a dance in the Orsini Palazzo. Next week we will have a giro, and Mauro agrees that we'll ask them then.
I'm not sure whether it makes sense to have a festa on New Year's Eve. It will have to be catered, and the cost may be prohibitive. So we'll try to find some caterers and take it from there. I'd rather stay home, but it is an important festa night, and since we're the festarolo committee, at least we can try.
October 23
They leave us at the end of the day with a booklet of photos and descriptions, and lots to think about. We'll have a cena here for them in a few days, and aside from a risotto that I will cook, they will prepare the rest.
Cooking is something they love, and they'd love to be able to make a living doing special dinners for people and catering along with both Diegos. We tell them that stranieri are starved for non-Italian cooking, so we'll be treated to something different from them later this week. We're inviting Franco and Candida to join us, and will see what they have to offer. It will be fun!
With an offer to manage any restoration work needed, we're looking forward to helping them narrow their decision making process, and confident that we can bring them great value once their decision is made. It will be interesting to see if there is a definite "pull" from any particular property, and we will learn that this week, we are sure. There is so much for them to think about.
October 24
October 25
October 26
The groomer is really a breeder of wirehaired terriers and boy, are they cute. She's grooming one, another runs around the room, it's nose just reaching to the window where we're standing.
Sofi will have none of it, and assumes her Raggedy-Ann stance, like a wet rag, resigned to the fact that she's about to enter a chamber of horrors. Marlena is the groomer, and she can take Sofi in the afternoon, but must leave at 4PM, so we agree to leave her in the meantime. C'e veddiamo, piccola!
We drive to Scarpa Mondo (shoe world), an enormous shopping center with three stores, none of which have much of anything. It opened earlier this week, so to give it credit we'll wait a few weeks. It will probably take a trip to Nordstrom's in San Francisco to find the shoes I'm looking for, anyway.
These huge shopping centers are copies of those in America and we are sorry to say they are as popular to families here as video games...So what's in store for the local "mom and pop's"? Purtroppo. We all know the answer.
I'm seeing myself talking to our grand daughters many years hence about things that used to be. Sigh.
So my nieces' lawsuit against my brother and me seems to be coming to a close, and I'm hoping we'll settle soon. It 's been nearly 4 years!!. I'd like to take the high road, feeling sorry for my nieces and also for my brother.
They are a judgmental lot, each fighting for tiny pieces of a pie, with me in the middle ducking unsuccessfully for cover. What happened to the unbridled exuberance we all felt toward each other not so very long ago?
Betty Pircio, a friend and accountant in Boston, reminded me that when a matriarch or patriarch dies in a family, the siblings seem to turn on each other. It's like sharks in the water, and I want none of it.
So I blow them each a kiss and wish them peace in their hearts. The experience has been so very painful for the past several years, but my scars will heal. I fear theirs will take longer...
With the fog lifted, today turns beautiful and sunny. Annika from Sweden comes by for a visit; her husband, Torbjorn, arrives tomorrow. On this trip, they'll visit Assisi. I like it that on each trip they visit another town. Earlier Stein calls from Oslo, and tells Dino he feels guilty for recommending that we drive to Barcelona to take the ferry to Italy.
We're happy that experience is behind us now and no, he has nothing to feel guilty for. We're missing him very much and look forward to his short visit in early December. Dino reminds me, "Let's make sure to keep the schedule clear!" We love spending time with Stein and Helga.
We're reminded that Annika and Torbjorn have what I call "Insta-hots" attached to each sink. We don't, and they're not very expensive. So I ask Dino if we can pick two up and have Enzo hook them up soon. It usually takes two minutes or so to heat up water to take a shower or to wash dishes. What a waste of water!
October 26
This year I want to have a "bobbing for apples" bowl on the terrace. Annika tells us that in Sweden the "bobbing for apples is done during the year at childrens' parties. Dino thinks I should show them how it's done, since it's my idea.
He tells me he'll be inside. Won't it be fun to have this for them to try? I've never done it myself, but Francesco and Mauro will certainly be up for it. Stay tuned...
I wake with sharp pains in my neck and back and right shoulder, so Dino drives me to Terme dei Papi, where Lello takes me and gives me the best massage I've had since Alice was here.
We drive on to Tenaglie to say hello to Don and Mary, and then move on to Montecchio for some client business.
October 27
After a thorough stir, I do the dipping, and an hour later I am finished. Well, finished dipping, now it takes another half hour to clean up. In the next day or two I'll have to fix any mistakes, but now I must move everything inside to the dining room, for the fog each evening and morning would really ruin the work.
We start to look for long vetrinas (cabinets with glass fronts) for the ceramics, and try all the usual places in the area. We visit six before we're through, with no real solution.
October 28
Then it's on to Giusy for a pedicure, and we realize I have something in my toenails that won't ever be perfect, so agree to use polish now instead of cream every day. That works for me.
I forget that Dino told her about our robbery, that is why we changed my last appointment, so she can't wait to hear all about it. I like testing my Italian in philosophical discussions with her once a month or so, but today she'll have none of that until I tell her everything.
While we're talking away, I make up a new phrase, or quasi modo di dire. It is..."bella figura dei parole..." and it means making a good impression with the way you speak. I certainly will never be accused of that. In fact, Giusy admits that my Italian is pretty ugly, although she understands what I am trying to say.
After all, I am just a poor country woman. I don't expect to be dressed in Armani any time soon....
Once I'm through, we drive to Viterbo to the fairgrounds,
where a special antique mostra is taking place. Perhaps we'll find an easel for me, and perhaps also a vetrina. But first we have to have pranzo, and their cafeteria dishes up some amazing food.
Once we're full, we begin our walk by visiting our friend Patricia Brennan, who has a few exceptional pieces, none of which we could probably afford. We tell her what we're looking for, in case she falls over one....
The mostra is full of really exquisite things, nothing perfect. One that we stop to look at is managed by a friendly Tuscan gent, who tells us that his vetrina is inexpensive, only five thousand euro! Boh!
We drive around some more, and after a few more places, stop at a friend's warehouse nearby. When we don't find what we want, he offers to make us just what we want. So we drive home and Dino spends the evening drawing out the piece in detail on graph paper. He loves doing this, and does it so well. In a few days, we'll take it to him for a preventivo.
I go to bed and lie there thinking of how expensive the piece will be. Dino will have to do some pretty fast talking to get the piece built at a price we can afford. Perhaps I can become one of the man's "lavorai" (workers) to paint it once it's built.
During the night, Dino puts a couple of treatments of Biofreeze on my back and shoulders and neck. The air is not cold, so I almost enjoy the cool menthol feeling against my sore muscles.
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October 29
He became ill on Sunday night, so ill that it was decided that a helicopter was needed to transport him to the hospital. But the fog was so thick that it could not land. He died in the ambulance and the funeral, we were told, was also on Monday.
Dino remembers hearing the sound of a helicopter, and I think I recall it, too. I remember asking him about 9AM, while we waited for Michelle and Enrique to arrive, about the bells. They announce (is that the correct word to use?) the death of a villager and yes, the old customs still remain here.
My thoughts fly to the cemetery, and we still have not met with the mayor to secure our plots there. Dino reminded me yesterday that we have to visit the cemetery to see the small spot Augusto told us about. We've been told that it is too small for a casket or two, but might work for us. We only need a spot for an angel and two urns.
Sorry, this subject may seem macabre to you, but it is important to us. Perhaps that is a sign that we are old. We hope it is a sign that we are considerate of Terence and of each other and want to secure these spots in the event of an untimely passing of either or both of us.
When we return to the U.S., I want to visit the cemetery in San Rafael where Peggy and I used to walk, and to visit an angel there that we both loved. This time, I'll take a photograph of her. We'll possibly visit Maurizio to see if he'll carve us a similar one.
If the site is available, and affordable, we'll have the proper frame built of stone and the angel installed. So now let's talk about something else.
Mauro is ready for a giro after mass, and so we commence the walk house by house. Before we are through we have collected €240 and that's not bad. Mauro also asks each person or couple if they would consider attending a Capodanno (New Year's Eve) dinner. First, we ask the sisters who own the Orsini Palazzo if we could use their space.
Elsa shows the bottom space to us after mass, but since they are still in the throws of restoration of the entire building, she believes it is too disorganized. Once it is done, they'd be pleased to have us use it. Perhaps we'll be able to do something there for the May festa. So we're agreed that we'll hold the dinner and music in the school building.
I ask Mauro to confirm that Dino and I will be in charge of the decorations. He and Livio and Giuliola want to use someone in Viterbo for the catering. But we'll have to pick the food up and to serve it.
That's all right. It's part of the drill. But the decorations are something else. I'd really hope the place would not look "carina". So Mauro assures me that we can do that as long as we don't spend too much money. Va bene.
After the giro, I put together a pasta after looking at a Jamie Oliver cookbook, varying it a little. Dino loves anchovies, and we don't have much that is fresh today. So it is a sauce of anchovies and pine nuts and raisins and tomato puree and separately sautéed crispy bread crumbs.
The bread crumbs are sprinkled liberally on top at the end. I remember not to mix the bread crumbs with the sauce. An earlier attempt resulted in a gooey mess.
It's actually quite good, but we're on a roll. So without taking much time to eat, we drive off to pick up Mary and Don in Tenaglie to take them to the castagno (chestnut) festival in Melezzole.
Now Dino and I don't like chestnuts. But this may be a characteristic festa, and there will be local foods displayed and sold. Sofi is so happy to be with us.
We pick up Don and Mary and drive through Montecchio and across beautiful rolling hills until we reach the outskirts of the town, where we are stopped in our tracks. There are buses and people wearing colored vests that insist that we park "here", even though Mary is disabled and we have her disabled parking sticker. Sigh.
We load into a bus and find Mary a seat, but the three of us and Sofi have to stand. The bus careens around turns on a rocky strada bianca and I'm sure we'll not live to see our destination. Was it really a good idea to do this?
I'm musing about a large grove of enormous olive trees planted on a steep incline right below us as we lumber by and call out to Don to look. A practical thought comes into my head and I tell him that the owners of the land probably slide their hands down the branches and let the olives roll down the hill, with nets staged at the bottom to catch them. What a great idea!
With the weather about to turn, will our olives be ready to pick before we leave? And will we take them to Diego to have him crush them for us? He offered to do this, and it's rather silly, for he has 3,500 trees, and our five or so trees that have olives won't even make up one lug. But it will be fun to taste if there's a way to do it.
Melzzole is a very beautiful and small Umbrian hill town, with some buildings a couple of hundred years old or more. The town is immaculate and we imagine fairly well to do. Our little village is povere, povere in comparison.
Don buys roasted chestnuts in a rolled paper container, and Mary takes a few of the charcoaled treats and skins them. We look at what she is doing with no thought of trying one, for we share the dislike of the strange and rich taste. Wherever we go we find discarded shells like fallen leaves on the pavement.
We arrive at the main piazza while a band/choral group from the town of Ferentillo is performing. They are singing and acting out a wonderful ancient folk song from their area.
Italians push. It's "Me, me, me, let me in..." unless you physically hold someone back who is trying to push in front of you. And I'm only talking about the women and young girls here. The men are a different species....
The Italian men are mostly so spoiled that they ignore anyone else when maneuvering in a crowd. One tall man in a handsome suede jacket tries to edge around me and I take hold of his arm and stop him. He looks at me in shock.
Now that I've stopped him in his tracks, I tell him that I am helping a disabled woman (Mary, with a cane) down the hill, but he can certainly make us wait and push right in front of us.
He is embarrassed and although he tries to come up with something relevant to say, his mouth opens and nothing comes out. I roll my eyes and we continue our walk.
There is nothing to buy, the clothes are really second rate market day finds, and the food is available in other towns nearby. Mary and I pick up a couple of lovely satin lavender sachets. I like the way they are made, and will make some with our lavender. Otherwise, we're empty handed.
Sofi is happy to get back into the bus, and we're thankful that the ride back is on an easier and shorter route. After dropping Mary and Don off in Tenaglie, we drive home, happy to be back in our little piece of heaven.
October 30
Today I'm in more pain when I leave than when I arrived, but recall that when I had a lot of pain before, Alice would work on me for up to several sessions to loosen the tight muscles before I felt better. Later in the day I lie down for a while, with more Biofreeze. It helps, if only momentarily.
Earlier we met with the geometra in Guardea to go over Merritt's plans, and after a conversation with him later today we'll approve the plans to go to permit.
We're hoping we can go out for bid at the end of the year and begin by the first of February. That will give us at least three months to work before Kate and Merritt arrive in May.
We then are taken to see three new properties, each of which we agree to list. They range from a sweet one-bedroom weekend house in a tiny borgo to a small house with an attractive piece of land for gardening and landscaping.
Finally there is a fabulous borgo with great views, including the entire borgo with the exception of one house that has been beautifully restored and faced with beautiful white Umbrian stone. I think we're talking 20,000 square feet of buildings....What a fun project to develop!
Back at home, we eat pranzo and Dino drives off to Montecchio to meet with the bank for a client, and runs into Don and Mary, in town for a gelato. Dino gives him his copper blow pipe to use in his fireplace. It is a little gift we give to all our friends and is very practical.
Sofi and I stay at home and actually I read a little and then take a short nap. Silvano Spaccese wakes me, for we've had a problem with our electricity all day, and he and I mess around with it until Dino returns and then between them they figure out what has possibly gone wrong.
Electrical problems are frustrating, for they are usually loose connections or something that fix themselves. So it's not as if we really know what went wrong. But everything seems to work, and it costs all of ten euro for almost two hours of work.
The pain continues, and by the time eight o'clock comes around, I'm ready for bed. Sofi joins me, and we say goodbye to another glorious day, fearing that this has been our last warm day for the year...
October 31
It's Halloween, and tonight we have no idea what to expect. But I'm wanting to buy a bag or two of little apples and have trick or treaters bob for apples, if a group shows up as they did last year.
First it's a massage with Lello, and I'm hopeful this will be it for a while. By the time I finish the massage I am in real pain. He has done a masterful job of opening up all kinds of things in my shoulders and back and neck, and as a result I'm dreaming of drugs. Not that I'd take them, but perhaps some extra strength Tylenol will do.
We drive to LIDL for candies for any trick-or-treaters, for Dino nixes my idea of apple bobbing, and I'm too out of it to put up a fight. One of our favorite and easiest things to buy is a roast chicken, and Coop in Viterbo has them every day. So rice and chicken are an easy way to get through the mid day pranzo ritual.
The day is still warm, although we've been hearing about a change in the weather. Dino checks the septic system, to see if that's what triggered the electricity to go off yesterday. The pump works, but the light that is visible in the kitchen when there is a problem does not work. So Dino calls Silvano to have him come back.
Earlier Dino took his masterful drawing to Sacha for a preventivo. If he can do it for a realistic price, we'll have him make the vetrina in the dining room. I really want him to do it, for it's just what we need to store ceramics on top and linens in the bottom behind closed doors.
I'm back in bed for a few hours, taking a dolce fa niente and hoping the pain will go away. Tonight we'll stay up late, in the event any neighbors show up in costume.
Not a single trick or treater arrives, but Dino puts out smudgepots on the front walk after dark. At around 9 P M he walks out to see three cars full of children driving down the hill, he suspects toward Attigliano, where there is better "picking". More little candy bars for Dino...
While we wait, Dino practices with his camera, sitting at the table while Sofi sits on the couch frowning at him and growling at the little clicking sounds the camera makes while its registering the shot. After a while she becomes bored and curls up like a croissant, waiting for me to take her upstairs.
I'm bored, turning off the T V and reading an old New Yorker magazine. I'm no longer entranced by this magazine; finding it all too "in" and too sophisticated. I do like a Woody Allen story and the cartoons, but some of the writing is just too smug for my current taste.
What has happened to me? I've become unsophisticated, countrified, unimpressed by any trappings of wealth or status. I'm even nervous about our trip to the U S in a few weeks, wondering if I'll shrink from the Pottery Barn, Gap, Cost Plus, Whole Foods merchandising mania.
I turn on an old Italian movie and find comfort in it, even though the comprehending is tough going. On another channel, a slick, hip twenty-something story seems to lack depth of any kind, a twinkie compared to a slice of home-made ciabatta.
With no children at the door, Dino puffs out the smudge pots and brings them inside, while Sofi and I come upstairs to turn in. I look forward to tomorrow, to each day here. And now to a cool night's sleep, fortified by a couple of Extra Strength Tylenol.
Burt what's this! It's the doorbell. Francesco and Andrea and Mauro and Salvatore arrive for their trick or treats. Mugnano celebrates Halloween after all...
"Buon Alloween!" they call out as the float down the path in their black capes...
NOVEMBER 2006
November 1
He was a man who kept to himself, and we really only saw him driving by or when he and his wife Anna dressed up in their marvelous medieval costumes for special events.
I look more closely at our neighbors now, wondering, wondering and wanting to make sure that we secure our places in the cemetery soon. I suppose these thoughts come with age, and I'm not so afraid of what is to come.
I just want to make sure we don't put a lot of pressure on Terence. After all, it was our choice to move so far away. It's the least we can do to take care of the arrangements in advance as much as we can. But enough of that.
There is a moistness in the air, and a chill. After mass people complain about it, but when Dino asks Lidia what time the rain will arrive, she laughs at him and bats her hand at him while leaning over a planter at her front door. The rain never arrives after all.
I spend most of the day painting after repairing a couple of pieces. After finishing two pieces I decide to stop. There's no reason to rush. And Annika and Torb stop by for a visit and to invite us tonight for a drink. Si, certo. That will be fun.
Tiziano arrives at 6PM for a slice of cake and a meeting. ENEL (the Italian utility company) has given us a whole raft of papers we don't understand, and he and Dino wade through them. Tiziano is so conscientious and also so honest that we know we're in good hands. What he does not know he'll ask his father about.
Earlier, Fabrizio drove up the hill while we were walking home from church, and handed Dino a flyer. There is to be a meeting of the Confraternity on Saturday, November 18th, but we won't be around. It is to discuss the restoration of the Duomo. We'll get the lowdown from Tiziano when we return from the U S at the beginning of December.
We scoop up Sofi after Tiziano leaves and drive down to visit the Swedes and have a drink in their comfortable kitchen. Annika has made little pancakes, and serves them with our cherry jam and our fig jam. They are very tasty, and an interesting idea to serve them while sitting around the table having a drink.
I limit myself to one glass of red wine and will take Tylenol before going to bed. I'm really pacing myself, making sure those headaches won't return. My shoulder is doing better, and the neck stretching exercises really help. I'm hoping we won't have to return to Lello before we leave in a few weeks for the U S.
November 2
I can only roll my eyes when watching even a snippet of the American political system in action. As much as I dislike Bush, and I dislike him a great deal, I am sure that Kerry is an imbecile. Sorry for this political interlude...
I think he agrees with me, for he apologizes for his latest gaffe and stops all his immediate campaign plans. There is no comfort in watching our country in such disarray from afar.
There are more properties to see, and now the locals in Northern Lazio and Southern Umbria are calling us to come to take a look. We have a reputation of trust with the Italians, and that means a great deal to us.
The day is lovely and warm, with sun warming the pale gravel on the terrace, and shadows hiding behind rows of box. I love the formality of our garden, the simplicity of it all.
And after seeing Annika and Torb's roses, left by previous owners and full of buds, I'm convinced that we'll strip out many of our silly delicate roses, replacing them with hearty Italian stock, in bloom in the height of the summer sun, and still blooming during the early days of November.
After eating a vegetable soup made this morning with squash and zucchini and ginger and a loaf of just-made bread with sunflower seeds, Dino drives off to take Don and Mary to the train.
The mass in the cemetery, honoring the dead, is at 3PM, and I walk down the path as Vincenza and Augusto arrive to walk with me. I give them the thank you card for their anniversary gift, a card that Tiziano translated for us last night. Dino will meet me there later.
Elena and her daughter Federica get out of Valerio's car further down the hill and there is talk about Federica's hair. I tell her it is lovely. She tells me it is not really black, although it looks pretty black to me. I ask her if it is "fondente" (dark chocolate) and she laughs and repeats the word. "Si. Fondente."
I walk through the gate of the cemetery and Vincenza asks me to follow them around to the right. We follow around to see their crypt, two spaces high for two caskets. And there is an open piece of land next to it. Augusto motions to me. It stands in the center of the far wall, and is larger than we need. But it is right next to them.
"One day we'll all sit around and play cards, " I comment, and they both smile and nod. I'm old enough to start to joke about all this...
"Are you sure it is still available?" I ask them. "Ask Francesco. He will know," Vincenza responds. Perhaps even if it has been sold we can purchase it from the current owner. Yes, we really must do this soon. The next time we see Francesco across the street, Dino will go over to speak with him.
I follow them over to Leontina's grave, and watch while Vincenza pours water in all the vases with a plastic watering can. The mass begins, and we walk over to where Don Luca stands.
I lag behind, and stand above and to the rear of Don Luca, listening to the wind at my back. Although the afternoon was warm, there is so much shade in the cemetery that when the wind picks up it is chilly and somewhat eerie.
Beyond Don Luca and the congregation I can see the edge of the empty plot of land that may be ours one day. I look back at the people speaking in unison and realize that we'll all be here one day...all of us. It's not such a frightening thing to imagine, just strange.
When I walk down to take communion Dino is there, so I walk over to him standing in the sunlight and take him over to the space next to Vincenza and Augusto.
The space is larger than we both imagined it would be, larger than we need. But if we are able to purchase it, we will have Maurizio carve an angel and the structure for the two of us. Today is a day to speak of such things.
It is cold now, and we drive home and light the stufa as well as a fire in the fireplace. There is a lot of smoke in this first real fire, but once it settles down we're resigned that winter is around the corner and we'll be keeping warm here during the next months.
November 3
Sofi is ready, as usual, for a ride in the car. We park next to the tiny San Rocco with Sofi at the door, looking out. Signora is lovely, and stands waiting for us with a wool scar draped over her shoulders. I want to hug her, but we have just met. She shows us the house and cantina, and it is indeed a good house for us to help her sell. Galli in Orvieto had the listing for four years and did nothing. I think it's a house for the American market, so speaking with us is the right thing to do.
There are views from both floors as well as the front area, which is shared by the connecting houses. It looks down toward Kate and Merritt's, but has a big view from the hills behind Montecchio to Orvieto and beyond.
This is a small house, two bedrooms and one small bath. But it does not need a lot of work. Downstairs is an immaculate cantina with plenty of space to work.
She also has a 4,000 square meter piece of land .6 kilometers from the house on a strada bianca, and it is a fine piece of land. So both are on the site for an asking price of Û62,000. This is a very good price. Because we are in Tenaglie so often for other clients, we could easily manage any work to be done here for people who live outside Italy.
We stop at her house afterward for caffé, and I'm drawn to her, so drawn to her that I want to find an excuse to come back to visit her. The house she and her brothers have to sell is a house belonging to relatives; no one has lived there for three years. So she'll be rather relieved to sell it.
Two items are worth mentioning: the marble sink in the kitchen, which is very old and special and can be used, and a lovely old painted chandelier in the larger bedroom. There are balconies outside each bedroom, one faces southwest and one faces northwest.
We drive home through Guardea and run into Paolo outside the fish truck. We pick up a bag of tiny clams, for we'll have pasta vongole for pranzo. It's been a long time since I've fixed this tasty dish. And we walk to the market with Paolo, for his wife and daughter are inside.
With hugs all around, we agree to visit them after we return from the U S. We like them a lot. Actually we like every person we've met from Tenaglie. And the people of Tenaglie are getting to know us, too.
We're learning about each neighborhood and of different branches of the Giubini family, the most populous family in the area, and a family that dates back five hundred years. Wonder what the family tree looks like? Or the stemma? We'll have to ask.
The sun on the front wall is lovely and strong, and before pranzo Sofi and I walk down to the path to deadhead the Lady Hillingdon roses. This is a wonderful rose for the front wall, its blossoms full even in early November. This is one rose that will definitely remain. But as for the others...we'll be taking a good hard look and pulling out a lot of them this winter.
The squash is still prolific, so look what we've been able to pick today!
In the afternoon we drive to Poggio del Castagno near Sipicciano, and there is another piece of land, with an approved permit to build a 2,500 square foot house on two levels and more than twenty olive trees on a beautiful piece of land. The price is really excellent...€39,000, so we're happy to help them.
Back at home, Sofi and I stay by the fire while Dino goes to Sacha. We think the price is more than we want to spend for the vetrina, so want him to come to see ours in the kitchen to see if he can find a way to make it for a lesser price. Never give up...
November 4
We stop at Bomarzo at the post office to check on our package, and it has cleared customs and appears to be somewhere in Viterbo. That's all we can determine. Hopefully it will be delivered on Monday. Now that it cleared customs, I think we can expect it at the beginning of the week. If not, we'll have to cancel all our credit cards again and have them reissued.
We arrive in Arezzo and park in our usual lot. It is cold...really cold. Trying to walk on the sunny side of the street, we find our way along until we reach the first stalls. This is a really special market, with up to two hundred or more stalls each month. It is a market for professionals; one has to have a license to exhibit here, and if you come be sure that you get a receipt for any purchase; the Guardia Finanza (tax police) monitor this mercato in plain clothes...
We purchase a small oval wooden bucket for papers to stand near the fireplace, but that's about all. There are no vetrinas at affordable prices, nor are there cavalettos for sale. But the eye candy is really worth the walk.
We run into Lore and Alberto, who always look for very old ceramic pieces, but they don't leave with anything today. We leave in time for pranzo, and eat at a restaurant that doesn't mind if Sofi joins us. We feed her outside and she sits by me while I order osso bucco and Dino eats liver crostini and an excellent pasta.
We run into a couple with a large basotto, and the woman is willing to give us information about a surgeon who has operated on their twelve-year old dog a larger size than Sofi. Since Sofi may have back problems, we want this information for the future. The doctor is in Rome.
So Dino gives her our card, and perhaps she'll email us. It's always fun to run into people who have dogs that look somewhat like Sofi. We've never seen a dog like her in the U S, but they are fairly common in Italy.
We're home in less than an hour, and it's time for a fire in the wood stove. But there is a lot of smoke, and Dino is not happy. Perhaps it is because we've not had a fire in it this winter. With weather this cold so early in November, wonder if we'll have a really cold winter...
November 5
We've learned that we can save money on electricity if we turn our dishwasher and washing machine on between 8 P M and 8 A M, so Dino decides we'll wash clothes while we're asleep (a load here takes almost two hours) and hopefully they won't freeze as the night turns into morning.
Old people do some crazy things to save money and I guess we're getting old. I have to laugh. We save money on the funniest things. He's signing up for this new service, so we'll see if our bills come down some. Electricity is expensive in Italia, as is gasoline and...cheese!
This is the first time this year I've donned my UGGS (winter boots purchased in the U S) and they've lasted for three years so far. It is COLD!
We drive up to church with Sofi in the back seat wearing her winter-lined raincoat (it's really a piece of lined cloth with elastic for the legs and a belt and collar). Since her recent haircut, she shivers in the cold. So until her hair grows out some, she'll need a little help. She waits for us in the car during mass.
We are the first to arrive in church, and return to our regular bench. Don Luca arrives with Don Renzo, and walks over to us. Someone told him we went to the anniversary mass at the end of September and that we celebrated an anniversary, too. So we are to contact a couple in Bomarzo and they will arrange for us to be given a special commemorative certificate.
We're both moved, and tell Don Luca so. It appears that we appeared in photos at the anniversary mass and someone remembers us telling them that it was our twenty-fifth anniversary. They told Don Luca and voila! I suppose it is good sometimes to stand out in a crowd, and we certainly do. People are so very kind to us here.
Marsiglia arrives late as we're singing the opening hymn and comes over to give me a kiss as she always does. But she is alone. So I welcome her to sit between us, and she and I hold hands. Life is very difficult for her these days.
Dear Felice sleeps most of the time, and is not very lucid. We will definitely walk up there for a visit tomorrow if we can. It's really important. She needs our friendship. As Iolanda used to say, "There but for the grace of God..."
Immediately after the usual cacciarata (gossip) outside the church with Tiziano and Lore and Alberto, and we ask Marsiglia what she is cooking for pranzo (roast chicken), we drive off to meet with Dan and Wendy at our favorite outdoor antique mercato in Pissignano, near Spoleto.
We don't arrive until almost 11:30 and as we get out of the car a soft mist begins to fall. So under an umbrella we walk along, and meet up with Dan and Wendy and their friends Nigel and Margo and Susan an hour or so later at a restaurant right in the middle of all the action.
Pranzo is fun, and good. Dino eats "stinco dei maile" (a braised shin of pork) after pappardelle al cinghiale, and I eat the same pasta with a salad. Margo sits next to me and orders lentils and sausage. That's one of Dino's favorite winter meals, and it's time to prepare it again.
It's always fun to talk with Wendy, and we talk only a little about the sad political situation in the U S. It's much more fun to talk about life in Italy, and I enjoy getting to know Margo, who sits between us, and hearing about what it's like to have a property full of animals (turkeys and chicken and many cats and dogs).
I'm especially curious to know about living the life of a vegetarian, which she was for ten years or so until settling in Italy with her husband, Nigel. On the few times I eat alone, I almost never eat meat.
So I am curious about the practice of being vegetarian. One woman we know accuses people around her of "Eating FLESH!" and we agree that this is not a proper way to behave around people who do not share one's culinary tastes. But just what causes someone to become vegetarian?
I'm particularly curious, and not at all judgmental in asking if she's able to eat an animal that they have nurtured. She cannot, she tells me. Chickens provide them with eggs, but as for the turkeys, they have three or four. When tiny, turkeys look like guinea hens.
Nigel purchased one guinea hen and three turkeys a few years ago, thinking that he purchased all guinea hens. What to do? They took the turkeys, when grown, to a neighbor and that was that.
Margo tells me that they did not want anything to do with killing them, or with eating them. I think I would behave somewhat the same way, although I think I'd like to have chickens. Well, I love the idea of fresh eggs, but don't know if I'd be good taking care of them. I really sound like a city mouse, don't I?
My mother and Margo's mother, who were born around the same time (1913 and 1918 respectively) had the same experience with baby lambs. Each had a baby lamb as a dear pet when very young, only to find it on the table as Easter dinner. So they never ate lamb their entire lives. What a gruesome tale!
How matter of fact must someone become when living the life of a contadini (farmer)? Is it like being a soldier in a war zone? Does the taking of another life for a purpose, any purpose, have a just cause?
Tonight we hear the sentence of Saddam Hussein, and it is to be death by hanging. Dino tells me he believes in the death penalty, but I do not. I believe that no life is to be taken by another, thinking instead that Saddam should be treated like a petty criminal, given no special care, and that perhaps a life in solitary confinement will be the best thing for him. But this journal is not about preaching, or about politics.
We always come away from this mercato with something special. Today, Dino buys a lovely small marquetry wooden box with tiny Scottie dog faces on it for his dog collection. We also pick up one modo de dire plate for €4, but later pass on four more because they are €10 each, and that's too much to spend.
Later, we see that three plates have been sold. Although we collect them, there's a price that is too high, and Dino thinks we should pass. So we do, spending the same money on a beautifully hand crafted old wooden polenta tray.
We've run into Maggie, who always exhibits here, and we have her property on our site to sell. She's not in a great hurry, so if she gets the price she wants, she'll sell, but not before.
We love her property, thinking that several couples could go in on it and take turns living in the big house, while building two additional smaller houses on the land where two outbuildings now sit. There are nine hectares of land altogether, with only two hectares developed, the rest being forest and streams. The price is €420,000. and we think this is an excellent opportunity.
We hear from people all the time who have the same idea we originally did of sharing the cost of a part time property in Italy. We were able to find a property for very little money at the time and turn it into something special. What's more, we wound up living in it full time.
But for the many couples that want to own a stake in Italy but not live here full time, the property is a great one to share. Contact us if you'd like more ideas of what you could do with her property.
Back at home, Dino fires up the wood stove, and then drives off to spend some time with a client who has some serious building problems. Ever the resourceful one, he'll manage a crisis with a local plumber while the client vacations for a week in Turkey.
We purchased our sweet little stove at the end of last February, when the worst of the winter was over. Yesterday, when we had our first fire, Dino was unhappy with it, for there was a lot of smoke. But now that it's been fired up a second time there is very little smoke, and I'm able to stoke it into a roaring fire while he's been away.
We'd both like the idea of a pellet stove, but they look too modern for our taste. In addition, the popcorn-like sounds constantly make the stove seem too artificial. So we're not good environmentalists, we admit, but enjoy the fire and the heat. With plenty of wood, we're not worried about running out.
It's so warm, in fact, that we've now opened the kitchen door to let the warmth climb up into the bedroom. I do admit to enjoying the coziness of a winter's day. And it's not even officially winter, yet.
November 6
So take a look: Industrial Strength Tattoo, Godspeed Tattoo, Cold Speed Tattoo, Black and Blue Tattoo, Zebra Tattoo and Body Piercing, Dungeon, One Shot, Bloodlines...Mom's Body Shop. On second thought, let's think about it another day...
Yesterday Dino and I talked again about my keeping up with the journal, even if we just post it once a month, which will probably happen. Here's the real answer...
I want to see if my writing changes if I start to lose my memory. I suppose I'm fixated about Alzheimer's, but why? It's not in my family history.
The package finally arrives from the U S. It was sent by Terence through the U S mail's special courier service and although it was difficult to track, the cost was almost $100 less than sending it by FEDEX or UPS. I admit I was skeptical.
The courier arrives and asks me to follow him to his truck. I sit on the little stone bench we've installed at the foot of the path as he takes the package from his truck, and as Quintillia and her husband come up the hill on their tractor, I sit on the bench and sign my name.
This morning I pull out all the squash. All the rest of the basil has frozen in the field as well as the remainder of any squash leaves. A couple of squash survive, and I look forward to using them for soup or risotto this winter. We probably had a real freeze last night. Strangely, the plumbago is still hanging on, its pale blue flowers still growing against an old wall.
I cook some red peppers and also two eggplant, and make an omelet and a baked eggplant dish for pranzo, using my usual mix of recipes with what we have lying around. Everything comes out well. But I'm itching to paint.
So after pranzo Dino drives to Amelia to solve a plumbing problem for a client, while I get going on the baking pieces that will possibly go to the U S with us next week. It depends on how heavy the suitcases become.
I've painted several pieces by the end of the day, but won't be able to resume painting until Wednesday. So hopefully I can get in a whole day of painting then and Elena can fire the pieces to have them ready for the trip. I'll continue to paint, giving her pieces to fire while we're gone, so we can have them upon our return.
Sunflowers are my latest interest, and I paint them on a number of dishes. I keep trying new things, teaching myself and experimenting. These sunflowers have white leaves instead of yellow, but I'll try some yellow sunflowers as well. Actually, how can a flower be a sunflower if it is not yellow? Oh yes, it's that artistic license thing again.
This afternoon, just as I've moved all the paints and tables into the dining room to be stored, Annika and Torb come for a visit. We sit in the kitchen while Dino fires up the stufa. They'll leave tomorrow to return to Sweden and we won't see them again until they return in the Spring. By then Stein will be here and we'll all get together. I surely miss Stein.
The day is warm and sweet, with the kitchen window open all day. But after the sun goes down, the temperature drops considerably, so the little stufa does its job and before I know it the room is warm.
I make some crostini with rubbed garlic and Diego's fine olive oil with the rest of our homemade sunflower bread from a couple of days ago. I'll make another loaf on Wednesday. That reminds me. We purchased a powdered sourdough starter from Sur La Table last fall, and don't know if we've even used it. We'll have to check the date on the container.
This is the time to make a list of things we want to bring back from the U S. I'm hoping that other than a few items of clothing we'll not be bogged down. Oh. I forgot I always want to buy books...I agree I am hopeless. But I do love to read...These days Dino has taken up my reading hobby as well. So books it will be.
November 7
Panais tells us that the place is a kind of factory, the doctors very interested in doing the work. Sounds creepy. But we'll see. He thinks the doctors are all fine.
Now I don't have either my Italian or American drivers' licenses...so if Dino can't drive after the appointment, then what? I suppose we'll have our denuncia to show any police who stop us. But it will have to be pretty serious for Dino to allow me to drive. It's a guy thing, I suppose.
We're hoping to drive on to DeRuta, so that we can pick up a few ceramic pieces to smalto and paint, and Dan and Wendy want to meet us there for pranzo.
So we arrive at the Terni hospital and after a while Dino is seen by the doctors. It takes no time at all for him to get his eyes tested but no, they won't do the surgery for him. He is not "a candidate". I think he's rather disappointed, so does not feel like asking about me. It seems like a lost cause.
We drive on to Deruta, and his eyes are fine. After a little searching, we find a wonderful easel (called a cavaletto) for me from Francesco, who works at Mondo Ceramica. We load it into the car and then visit Vania, who does not have the bishop's plates I want.
We drive on to our other favorite place, but they don't make the plates, either. We pick up one that will work fine for my next stemma, but it is not exactly what I am looking for. So we will continue our search.
We meet up with Dan and Wendy as they are leaving Ubaldo's fine building halfway through town. This is the place where we think the best artisans are located, and Ubaldo ships to most of the high-end shops in the U S (Neiman Marcus, Bergdorf Goodman, etc.).
I have a conversation with Ubaldo and he is very generous with his time. He tells me to take photos of anything I'd like, and to come back after 2PM for a tour. At that time I can speak with a few painters about my smalto issues. That's great.
So we have pranzo with our friends at Locanda del Bracconieri, a place even Ubaldo thinks is a good idea. There is plenty of food, and it is all good. We recommend it as a simple and friendly place to eat in Deruta.
We say goodbye to our friends, and possibly we'll see them in the U S. Back at Ubaldo's factory, we are given a tour and it is now that we learn that the bishop's plates we want are no longer available. The ones we have lining our side kitchen wall are old.
To have flat sides of the round plates, instead of coming out at an angle, the weight of the clay must make it difficult to keep the plane of the plate flat. So we're told they are no longer made. It's not a really big deal. I'll just rethink the stemmas I paint for friends and on commission.
We drive back to Amelia and stop by to see Tia and Bruce and their new back garden. It is a wonder, and a lot of work. Dino especially loves the red tractor. He goes up to visit it while Tia and Sofi and I walk into the kitchen. I imagine him stroking it lovingly. "Nice doggie."
We've recommended our dentist to Tia, and she has an appointment right after us on Thursday! Since it's just before pranzo, we all agree to meet for pranzo and have a feast. So we'll drop Sofi off with Valerie in Rome for a few hours and pick her up in the afternoon on the way home.
Sofi has been wearing her little red lined raincoat in the cold weather, and she seems to like it. Since she no longer has a full coat of her own, she'll need to wear it until her hair grows out. By then it will be spring and time for another haircut.
We're starting to get ready for our U S trip, and Tia wants to see our ceramics. So I'm going to paint and paint for the next few days and we'll have Elena fire everything to get it back to us by Wednesday. Then we'll have a little show and tell early on Wednesday evening. What we do not sell here we'll consider taking to the U S.
Another woman calls us from Montecchio who wants to sell her house in the borgo. Dino will drive there tomorrow to view it. We'll be sure to bring photos of all the houses we have with us when we go to the U S. We now have plenty of inventory, just in time for our trip.
November 8
I spend the entire day painting or getting ready to paint. The process to get the pieces ready to paint is painstaking, and after I've spent quite a bit of time dealing with the fine powder that literally gets blown off each piece before I'm ready to begin painting, I have an idea. How about a compressor?
I don't' really know what a compressor does, other than probably compress air. So if a small machine could be used to suck up loose powder from the top of the pieces, that would be great. I'm afraid I'm inhaling too much of the stuff while I'm attempting to blow it off each piece on the terrace.
I know this because I look as thought I am covered in powdered sugar, and Dino tells me my mouth is white. So I'm sure I'm taking in some of it. I don' t think it's dangerous, but it can't be good for my lungs. Dino will see if he can fashion something for me.
By the end of the day I've painted a dozen or more pieces, and many of them are pieces that can be put in the oven. I promised dear Michelle that we'd bring her a piece to go in the oven.
I think she wants a pie plate but I don't have one that is just what she is looking for. There are a number of baking dishes, however, so I'll pick out one that I think she'll like and pack it away.
Tia wants to see my ceramics, so she'll come by on Tuesday or Wednesday before I pack any away for our trip in case she wants any. Elena tells Dino that she'll have them all ready by Tuesday, and I'm so lucky to have her nearby.
But Dino is not happy with me. He thinks I've worked for too many hours painting. The time just flew by. I think it's so strange that I am a fearless painter. I just am. If I make a mistake on a plate, I'll just paint another. And since it is impossible to really tell what a piece will look like after it comes out of the kiln, I think it's useless to fret.
Betty at Ubaldo's yesterday suggested that I take notes. Perhaps I'll do that some day. I just like painting the pieces, and remember what I've done if they come out well. On this batch, I'm painting sunflowers and onions and carrots as well as other vegetables like garlic and squash and spring onions and beans and mushrooms.
There is just one large tray left to paint, as well as Stein's stemma, so I may smalto Stein's plate on Friday and paint that and the tray then. They'll be ready on Tuesday, and I'll not paint again until we return in December.
I think I'll fill the tray with sunflowers, masses of them, with their funny and awkward green leaves. Stein's plate will be ready when he and Helga arrive at the beginning of December.
Dino went to see a woman who has two apartments in the castello in Montecchio for sale. He wants me to see them when we return in December. There is also use of a sweet garden. We have so many good properties, but not enough traffic on our web site. So perhaps we can get some good advice when we return to the U S about reaching the many people who are looking for places to buy in Italy.
I am looking forward to seeing our little grand daughters, and of course Terence and Angie and Dino's relatives and our friends. The trip is just enough time to visit some and see a few movies and eat some non-Italian food.
But right now I'm looking forward to bed, as Sofi snores by my feet on her little pillow.
November 9
I'm excited to see the new pieces, and on Wednesday we'll invite friends to stop by for a quick viewing before we pack select pieces off for the trip. Most or all of the pirofila baking dishes will remain here, for they are heavy, and there is a weight restriction on our luggage.
The water in the shower smells like onions, and I'm reminded of our first trips here, when the same smell frightened and delighted me. Nine years ago, the water filtration plant did not exist in Mugnano, and we had brown colored water after major rainstorms.
That is no longer the case, but I am starting to remember incidents "in the old days" that we viewed as characteristic descriptions of our little medieval village. In these short years, we are starting to see many changes that make our lives easier, yet are affirmations that the country is slowly abandoning its old ways.
I want to hold on, hold on. So we cannot take our time getting to know the villagers, and I need to spend more time with them, less time painting. What I like about our life here is that I've become a sort of hermit, not interested in traveling around, but even more curious about life and lives in our village.
After appointments with Dr. Chiantini, our favorite dentist, we walk to the restaurant where we are to meet Tia and Bruce. While in the dentist chair, I ask advice about whether I should take some nose drops for the ingested smalto of the past few days. He gives me a name, and we pick it up at a local pharmacy. The solution is a sea water from...Cinque Terre!
Pranzo at La Campana is fun, especially the fried artichokes, and we drive Bruce and Tia back to their car in Orte before driving home.
November 10
We drive to Viterbo and stop at Klimt, the art supply store, and I ask about having my canvas stretched. The manager wants to do it himself, but I am looking for an artisan-type, really an artist who also teaches painting and perhaps stretches canvas on the side.
The manager comes up with two names of potential teachers, and one in Bagnaia also speaks English. For me, it is very important to have someone I can speak with about the nuances of what I want to paint. So I call Marco, and we'll meet with him on Sunday. We'll have the canvas with us to show him as well. There. I feel better about that.
The process of learning to paint, whether on ceramics or on canvas, is a very interesting one, especially the search for maestros who can mentor me. I do wish that Pascale lived nearby, but she's a great excuse to travel to San Remy du Provence now and then.
Back at home the weather is so warm that we walk out to the far property to take a look at the olives. They are glossy black and ready. While I'm inside working on the last tray to paint before our trip, Dino picks all the olives.
I say ALL, but there aren't many trees: one large on and five smaller ones. We have less than one half a lug when he's through, not enough to bother Diego about. So we'll cure them, and that's fine with us.
Franco and Candida have invited us to a restaurant tonight in Orvieto along with a group of friends. Tonight is a fish dinner, with so very many courses. The friends are a lot of fun, and before we're through we've eaten: carpaccio of swordfish with carpaccio of pineapple (very tasty), an assortment of dishes with calamari, shrimp, orata, rombo (turbot), salmon, mussels, clams, risotto, fettuccini. Then there's a salad and dessert. All this and plenty of wine and bottled water and coffee for €30 each!
Tomorrow is San Martino Day, or the tasting of the novello wine. So we've told Franco it must be "open cantina" day all around, as well as at their house, and he agrees, once we tell him what it's all about. So we'll drive up to go tot he Saturday market, then will stop by to taste his wine.
November 11
Really they are Matthew's grapes, but Matthew took all his vines out, and Franco rushed to pick the grapes just before he did. Let's see what the wine tastes like.
Last night we teased Franco, who I realized was a little sensitive about it, about the bottle of wine he gave us that exploded, sending a gusher of red froth across the kitchen floor. It had been resting on its side on the wine rack. What appeared to be a gunshot went off, followed by a real mess. Franco was quick to respond that none of his other bottles have ever exploded. Perhaps it was the way it was stored?:)
We drive off to Orvieto and park outside Franco and Candida's wonderful house on the back side of Orvieto. In a few minutes we're all scampering up the hill to stop at different shops, including Dino's favorite leather craft shop, where the owner sews him up a leather case for his replaced Palm Pilot on the spot for €15.
Then it's on to see what's going on at the Saturday market, but not before we stop for "capuccia's". Cappuccinos are called after those little caps, and come no (why not)? ...very tasty.
We stop to visit friends who own a very upscale jewelry shop, and they've moved to a spot on Via Del Duomo in the heart of all the action. Business is brisk, but Tiziana has enough time to chat with us. She tells us about the four phases of picking olives, and let's see if I get it right:
The first phase is the Imperitor phase, when olives are picked in September/October, when the olives are green and supposed to produce the best oil.
The second phase is the Nobili phase, in November, when the olives begin to turn color.
The third phase is in November/December, and is known as the Patrizi phase, when the olives are mostly black and the oil is good.
Finally, the fourth is the Cadum phase, when the olives have fallen on the ground and the result is mixed.
I thank her for this information, and tell her we'll put a description on our site about her jewelry. She'll email it to me. When it arrives, we'll let you know. They speak English, so it's a good shop to stop at for visitors, and they craft the designs themselves. Be prepared to spend some money here, but the jewelry is really memorable. The shop is called Orogami, and it is located at Via del Duomo, 14-16.
We pick up a grilled chicken and Candida picks up so many vegetables that we're not sure when she'll be able to use them all. But back at their house we're served a really special broccoli soup and salad and we slice up our chicken for Franco and Dino and me.
Then we had the first taste of Franco's 2006 wine!! It's got promise!!
We sign up another property this morning, and it is dear Clara's, situated not far from the Monster Park in Bomarzo. She owns about a hectare of land, many very old olive trees, and the house has two bedrooms, two baths, and a separate summer kitchen.
We have an appointment in Guardea with the geometra for Kate and Merritt's house, and go over the diagrams with him so that he can prepare them to present them to the Comune. Once he is ready to present them, we will forward the draft to our clients, and then we'll work with them to finesse the plans into what they want.
Will it rain? Probably. We're shrouded in mist as we walk up to church, and again Argentina and her two young helpers from Romania sit in our pew. "Our" seats? We settle into the last row behind them, and wait to see if Don Luca will be performing the mass.
The day is spent with new clients from New Mexico, showing them a selected list of properties. With highs and a few lows, as well as many surprises all around, we're delighted with their openness and willingness to consider many options.
At least one seller will be very disappointed, but her property does not appeal to our clients. With only one rejection among eight properties, we're feeling very good about the range of properties we've shown them.
I'm very, very sick all day. Possibly it is an allergy to white wine. Nothing is worth this. This morning I take a giro with Sofi on the Mugnano loop. It is clear and mild with just the right amount of wind to blow the fog and moisture of the past days away. Sofi stays with me all day, even when I'm upstairs lying down. Patiently waiting for hours, she does not leave my side even when I open the bedroom door to give her the freedom. The magic gel, Biofreeze, does not seem to do anything this time. Late in the day I try a major amount of it and lie down again.
The morning's fog persists until almost noon, but I spend most of the day with ice packs in bed. I really must be allergic to white wine. I drank only two short glasses on the evening of the 23rd, but whatever was in the wine attacked me with a vengeance. I feel like a street drunk, promising, promising... "I'll never touch the stuff again..."
I wake up early, and although I'm as foggy as the mist outside our house, I'm feeling better. So Dino wants to find Scooby-Doo, the pet groomer south of Viterbo. It is in some out of the way town, and it takes us over an hour to find it, but we do.
We have a conversation about Halloween, and it's an American holiday, made into a "shop till you drop" scene in Italy. Last year, local children and their parents made homemade costumes and arrived here to surprise us after dark. Luckily Dino had plenty of tiny candy bars to give them.
I'm behind on my ceramics, so put on my work clothes and stir up the smalto in the loggia, Dino has opened up a large table, so everything comes out of the house and there are a lot of things to be covered with the white stuff.
We drive to Terme di Papi to make an massage appointment with Lello for Monday AM, for I'm still in pain. It's impossible to make an appt. on the phone, so we take care of that and while we're having coffee a man next to us calls out to the barrista that he'll have a "capuccia!" (a little hat). The next time we're in the U.S., we'll try that and see what response we get. (It means cappuccino!)
¥ Sore Muscles & Muscle Sprains
¥ Back, Shoulder, Neck Pain
¥ Arthritis
¥ Painful Ankle, Knee, Hip & Elbow Joints
¥ Muscular Strains
It's Sunday, so we walk up to mass and it seems we are late. Everyone but us is already in church. While we sit in church, Don Ciro arrives and as the mass commences I'm drawn to the thoughts of Enrico and of his death. 
There are hundreds of people congregating today in this remote town, mostly pushing against each other Italian style. Now you probably know by now that this behavior drives me crazy.
After a few coatings of Biofreeze last night, I'm still in pain, but we arrive at the Terme for my massage just before 9AM. Each time I visit Lello the massage is better. I think these people get to know their patients' bodies. 
After a foggy walk to mass, we sit among our friends and have a chance to think about the family we are a part of in this little village. With Enrico dead last week of a stroke, we realize we hardly knew him.
The sound of Pepe on his tractor, plowing the land directly below us in the field, is comforting. I often think of one of Roy's partners in his last business when I hear our neighbors working nearby. She rented a house in Tuscany and was outraged because she was awoken by the sound of a tractor in a nearby field. "Don't they know I'm trying to sleep?" she exclaimed. Sigh.
Today is Friday, but it seems like Thursday. With a holiday in the middle of the week, I'm off track. With sun in the sky and no fog, the terrace is warm. We have an appointment with a Signora Giubini to see her house in Tenaglie. 
We have a full weekend ahead of us, with Arezzo planned for Saturday and Pissignano on Sunday after mass. I'm hoping to find an old easel, and if Sacha's price for the vetrina is too high, we'll be looking for one of those as well.
Today's the first Saturday of the month, so it's the weekend of the Arezzo antique mercato. We have not been here for a few months, so let's see if we can find a cavaletto (artist's easel) or a vetrina.
With clouds forming a kind of dirty plate above us as far as we can see, we're sure it is cold outside. Once we're both up and dressed, I fix breakfast while Dino hangs out the freezing cold clothes on a drying rack on the terrace. It's 4 degrees, C.
Our visit to the U S is worlds away in terms of distance as well as sensibilities. This trip, I want to have my ears re-pierced, and think it's a really simple thing. Until I start to ask, and no one knows where to go. "Look it up online", Michelle recommends.
Dino has an appointment in Terni early this morning to see about getting laser eye surgery. Since he's over 65, we think the procedure will be free! I'd like to get the surgery as well, since the cost won't be very much. So we'll find out what it will take to pass the criteria.
Today begins like many others, with cold and fog. Later in the morning the fog clears and it's warm outside, until the sun begins to lower on the horizon.
We drive off to Rome in the morning fog, and my head is a little foggy as well. I suppose it will be a good idea to find out if any of that powder I've ingested as dried smalto is going to cause me problems. I'll have to pay a lot more attention to the process, including wearing a mask during that phase of the process.
I wake up groggy, but as the day wears on I'm back to my old self, with merely a foggy head. As the sun rises and the temperature rises, I'm feeling much better. I should remember to expect to have a headache twice a year after a teeth cleaning. It must be something about rattling my head around in the dentist chair, although Dr. Chiantini is very gentle.
We love the Saturday market in Orvieto, and that's just where we venture on this bright November morning. Even Sofi is wide awake before 8 A M and ready for an adventure. Since today is the feast day of San Martino, we'll be knocking on Franco's door to taste his Novello, the wine from this year's grapes. 
Sofi loves their house, loves being with all of us together. She can't seem to stop wagging her tail or rushing around. Earlier we introduced her to a dog his owner calls "Salsiche" and he's a basotto a little larger than Sofi. Sofi darts around him for a minute or two, then would rather sniff around the ground and