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JULY 2007
July 1
Our favorite antique mercato takes place on the first Sunday of each month in Campello Sul Clittuno, near Spoleto. If we're adventurous, we'll drive to Arezzo for the giant mercato the day before. Arezzo is the largest antique market in Italy, with over 200 stalls and many shops open along the route. But this one is still our favorite. So we leave the house before 9 AM and drive up past Spoleto, parking on the shady side of the road.
Sofi does well for most of it, but we hold her for the rest when the heat and hot pavement get to her. It is very warm today, and difficult for her on any day that is warm. She's happier back in the air-conditioned car on the way home.
We run into Maggie, whose lovely house in the countryside outside Spoleto is for sale on our site, but don't run into anyone else, although we are sure other friends have taken our advice and will visit today.
We must be back before 2 P M, for today is the French Grand Prix, and Dino always tries to watch any Formula 1 race. Today will be no exception.
We find one modo di dire plate, one embroidered dress for €7 and one piece of embroidered linen for €5 to make a camisole out of for the summer. The dress is more like a pink slip, but I can wear it as a dress on a hot day. It's amazing the amount of work that goes into these embroidered second hand cotton and linen pieces.
We love the walk; love the variety of interesting things for sale. There is always something to pick up. And the mercato is very popular.
At home for pranzo we eat a saffron ricotta torte that I made at 7AM this morning, knowing that we'll be eating in front of the T V. We have leftover peppers, more watermelon salad with mint and feta and a green salad. Just in time. It's 2 PM and for the first time I watch the race myself. It is quite exciting after all.
I've fashioned the loops for the linen kitchen curtains, and we try them out before I sew them. I'll sew them in the next days, now that we're pretty sure that we'll have a new pergola and new shutters by Tuesday.
Tomorrow the shutters will be installed, starting at 7:30 AM, and Dino will be driving to Tenaglie to work with the electricians and possibly the plumber, so I will be on my own. Fa niente. There will be two workers here, and they can take care of themselves.
We're going to a sagra tonight in Colicello di Amelia, and Don and Mary and Merritt and Kate will join us. We call Ruth to ask if we can make reservations, and we cannot. So we'll all meet in Lugnano and get there early. I'm looking forward to this new sagra, liking the tiny town very much.
We lead our friends over hill and dale across Amelia, and when we get out of the car in Collicello they ask where in heaven have we taken them?
We are at the edge of the town, and walk up to where the sagra will take place. Unfortunately, we have to wait to get in, although it is early, possibly because it is early. When people are allowed to enter, the push is Italian-style, and I dislike this custom so very much. It is so brutta figura....and uncivilized.
We do find a good table, although it takes us a while to get waited on. The head of the committee comes over to ask if everything is all right, and by then it is. The sky is a soft pinky blue, and it turns to my favorite bright navy while we drink the local wine and feast on bruschetta and cinghiale and polenta and tozzetti for dessert with Vin Santo. Tozzetti are tiny little square cookies with an anise flavor, tasty when dipped into the Vin Santo.
Yes, one is supposed to dip the cookie into the wine. Tonight we have traditions and customs and Galateo's rulebook all rolled into one. It's really good.
Ovidio calls to say he'll be late in the morning to install the shutters, but now he is well trained. Dino gave him hell for not showing up last week and not calling. And we fully expect him to show up on time tomorrow.
Duccio also calls, and this time he calls Don, for Don called him yesterday to see how he and Giovanna are doing. Duccio gives him the very sad news that Orsino, Donatella's beloved dog, is dead.
How can one say it is a good thing all around for that to be the case? The dog was badly treated by Ingrid and her husband, and there is no excuse for that. It appears he died while in the care of the vet, and never regained his strength. How very sad.
We drive home under a very full moon, and after greeting Sofi she has her bout outside barking at the cats under the moon. But she's ready for bed, and we come upstairs, ready for another busy week, Italian-style. I give her an extra scratch and an extra hug before getting into bed, and bless my stars that she is well and ever by my side.
July 2
Birds are singing and it's already warm at 8 AM. Dino is in Soriano getting a blood test and will then meet the electrician and hopefully also the plumber in Tenaglie. Sofi and I will wait for Ovidio, who is to arrive at 10 AM to install our new shutters.
I'm weary of making lavender wands, but work on them, as the remaining lavender in the garden is ready to be clipped and is dark purple in color. If I get bored, there's always the canvas to prepare for class. I have a sheet of carbon paper to trace the image, but may wait for class. For Marco has a giant sheet of the stuff, and it will be easier there. Now that I've written it down, that's what I'll do.
I seem to be a bundle of procrastination this morning. So let's get up and enjoy the day!
Dino returns because there are no blood tests given on Mondays... But I have my art workshop with Marco, and that goes well, for I have begun a large painting with three women and have worked on it for quite a while this past week.
Here we are:
Ovidio and his workmate arrive late in the morning, but at least they arrive. After many false starts, they are finally here.
The shutters are really beautiful, and at long last we finally have new wooden shutters, in a pale blue-grey. Well, they're more blue than grey. "Wow they're bright!" Dino exclaims as he looks down at them on the top of Ovidio's car from the terrace. But when they are nearer, they are not as bright after all, thankfully.
They're still here when we're ready to have pranzo, so invite them in for bruschetta, a frittata and salad and granita. Ovidio does not eat much of his granita, so we have found one person on this planet that does not like it. "Fa niente", as dear Mary would say.
They continue to work until five, and then ask if they can return in the morning, and we have no problem with that. But after they leave we leave for Viterbo, and I am unable to latch the kitchen shutter...the latch is too high.
Dino thinks Ovidio can remount the latch lower, so we'll ask him tomorrow. I even need a stepladder to reach the lower latch, but such is life.
In Viterbo we have another smaller blowup of the virgin copied, this time 40cm high. The center figure is 60cm high. So there will be three women, with two flanking the center figure in the distance. They each step out from beneath an arch. I'm itching to work on it.
We look for a polystyrene head, and are directed to a beauty supply place, but it's after 6PM and it's closed. On Monday I intend to dress Marco's skeleton in more than just the gauze fabric. Since there will be a party and barbecue after class, this will be great fun for everyone.
Marco does not know it but I will also paint the fabric on the three women before returning the canvas to his studio. At home Dino wants to keep the canvas in the kitchen on the cavaletta (easel) so that I can continue to look at it and think about it.
Tonight there is a program I love on T V. It is called Poterie di Genio (the power of Genius), and tonight the subject is Van Gogh. The narrator does not mention San Remy, but he did spend important time there near the end of his life, and I was certainly inspired by the outskirts of the town, and the town itself, this past April.
Although I'd like to return to Provence in September, we think we'll take a trip to Puglia instead. Candace and Frank are there this weekend, and are taking the train to Oltranto and then meeting friends. While I watch the program on Van Gogh, Dino studies the map book, and begins to plan our fall trip.
July 4
We've been invited to a Fourth of July party by an American couple living part time outside Orvieto. But there is so much going on here that we don't think we'll be able to make it. I somehow don't have an interest in celebrating the holiday any more. Dino feels the same.
Most of the day is spent skirting around Ovidio and his partner, who continue to work on the new shutters. Earlier, Dino ran into Maria Elena, who asked if Provence was the inspiration for the blue shutters. Si certo!
There is much wind today, and the temperature is mild. We spend the day enjoying the weather until Dino realizes that the filmy curtains framing the balcony window have been blowing to and fro and now there is blue paint on one of them. He spends a while trying to take the paint off, and then we wash them in the machine, but are out of luck. We'll need to replace them.
I don't really care about the curtains, but Margaret helped me to sew them the Christmas she and Pat were with us many years ago. So for that I am sad. I can hear Margaret trying to make me feel better by telling me it's time to move on and get over it. So I think of her and smile. I'm sure Pat is full of thoughts of dear Margaret, and consider myself blessed to have known her.
Ovidio leaves mid afternoon after telling us they'll return tomorrow afternoon to finish installing the shutters. So we take the opportunity to drive to Tenaglie and meet Kate and Merritt's houseguest and then inventory the remaining tiles. We still have to work out tiles for the Piano Terra bathroom and kitchen backsplash.
There were two short extra beams left downstairs in the Piano Terra when the work began, and they were old and beautiful, but too short to use as a fireplace mantel. We used one this week as a beam over one of the windows in the little bedroom on Piano Terra, and it looks really beautiful. The room may be small, but it is a treasure.
Zenni is inside the bathroom on Piano Terra, and we agree on the intonico for the wall inside the shower. There is an existing inset in the wall, and we'll take advantage of that when we tile for the shower. Va bene. Otherwise, the room is quite small. The good news is that it won't take a lot of tile, and we probably have enough left from the upstairs rooms so that we won't have to buy any, at least for the bathroom.
I am still hoping to use some antique tiles in the kitchen, and in the next days we'll pick up a few samples. The weather clouds over, and we leave Tenaglie for home, for we're expecting Don and Mary in less than two hours and we have to put something together to serve.
Back at home, there is Norwegian salmon, cream cheese, good bread for bruschetta, garden tomatoes chopped with basil and olive oil and a little garlic, marinated mushrooms, Sicilian red and yellow peppers in a tangy marinade, and my lemon torte for dessert. With a bottle or two of prosecco, it's a tasty night of snacking under the imagined pergola.
We've moved the table away from the house, and like the placement better. Lorenzo has put us off again regarding a date for the pergola installation, but we'll bug him every day until he succumbs. Every week I think..."This week for sure!" Now I'm not sure at all, but we don't have any major events coming up, so when it arrives, it arrives.
We're not completely happy with the shutters, for the quality of the paint job is not particularly good. The shutters should have been finely sanded before they were painted, and there are places where there is not enough paint. Dino tells me he'll touch them up after Ovidio leaves, but that's too bad. We'll work it out; we're just disappointed.
The night is lovely and mellow, and we eat outside on the terrace with Don and Mary. It is always a treat to share stories and good times with these good friends, but we'll take them to the train tomorrow, sad that we'll not see them again for a couple of months.
Sofi brings two of her toys outside and entertains us silently while everyone gabs. I steal looks at her now and then and realize that she is very funny tonight. After awhile she comes over and lies by my side, disappointed that her tricks with the deflated soccer ball have not engendered any particular interest.
After our guests leave Sofi lies by my side on the couch and wags her tail when I ask her if she's ready to go to bed. This is one sweet dog, and I just adore her.
July 5
We sleep in until 9AM, and with all the shutters open and the sweet smells of cut grass and no weed-wackers, I am in heaven. The birds even seem mellow.
An email arrives from Mitch Woods and I am in disbelief. We see him now and then, for he plays often in Europe, but he tells us that he played for the opening performance of the Mountain Play on Mount Tamalpais above San Francisco, and my mouth drops open as I read. This year's play is HAIR and I think, "Jim Dunn certainly got his way."
HAIR is one play I never thought would have been played at the Mountain Theatre, but as I think about it, Mount Tamalpais was a hippy haven during the 60's and 70's. We lived there for more than ten years before moving to Italy.
And I imagine myself sitting at a board meeting of the Association when the play selection comes up for a vote. Only if you were on the Board of the Mountain Play would you understand the dynamics. Ha ha. We hope the play is a resounding success. "Let the sunshine in...."
There is no word from Ovidio all day. Yesterday he told us he'd be here to finish installing the shutters this afternoon. Sigh. And we stop at Lorenzo's to ask him in person when he will come to put up the pergola.
"90% I'll be there on Tuesday" he tells Dino. And Dino responds, "90% is good enough for me!" He's put us off for weeks, but we do love his work.
We drive to Viterbo to check out a second hand consignment shop to see if they'll take our old metal shutters and they will. I can't wait to get rid of them. Sorry, Nana, to use the word, but I HATE them. I have hated them since the first time we looked at the house in September 1997 and my eyes were drawn to them like a bullet careening through the air.
I like our new wooden shutters very much, and also like the color, although the craftsmanship leaves a little to be desired. Dino will do some sanding and repainting and they'll be fine.
Early this morning Rosina leans over her balcony and tells Dino while he is watering, "Bellisima!" She likes the color of the shutters, too, although Dino chooses not to respond that the blue was inspired by a trip to Provence.
We eat breakfast outside on the terrace, and this is a big deal. Dino always wanted to eat breakfast inside before, for some reason or other. Now he likes sitting outside at the table, especially under the shade of the persimmon tree. But he knows that in the next weeks he'll need to get up in a ladder to clip the thousands of hard fruits that occasionally boink! down upon us.
Later in the morning we pick up a small water heater that we will have Enzo install under the kitchen sink to help us to receive hot water faster after we turn on the tap in the bathroom or the kitchen.
Now Dino can call him to make an appointment, for Enzo will also run gas to the stove in the loggia, now that it has been relocated from the kitchen. We are really getting this little house the way we like it, bit by bit.
We also talk about reroofing the loggia, and I suggest that we bring in Stefano the muratore to see if we can do some of the work if we can do it for a good price. I'm all right with the roof being made of wooden planks instead of wooden beams and mattone.
I do want to get rid of the asbestos covering the loggia over the bamboo, and want the room to be water-tight. It may not cost very much if we're not changing the structure. So I recommend that Dino talk with Steve, who has worked with him on installing an irrigation system and is a good worker. The two of them could do the roof in a week under Stefano's guidance.
Right after pranzo, we drive to Tenaglie to drive Don and Mary to the Alviano train station, but stop first to pick up a few tile samples at the house. Tonight we'll finalizet the design of the tiles in the Piano Terra bathroom for our clients, and tomorrow first thing we'll meet with Alessandro at Orsolini to finish any ordering and talk to him about taking back some tiles that we could not use because they were damaged.
I hate saying goodbye to Don and Mary, for it means we won't see them for two months. We always say that "next time we'll spend more time together", but somehow we only manage to sneak in a couple of visits when they're here.
This afternoon we stack the old shutters on the luggage rack of Pandina, Dino's Panda, and tomorrow after we get home from our meeting at Orsolini we'll drive to Viterbo. I'm sure we'll be feeling as if we're characters in Grapes of Wrath, lugging our belongings in an overloaded car.
Dino wonders out loud if he should have a "trasport0 eccezionale" sign on the front and back of his load, so we'll see if we get stopped on the road.
I spend a couple of hours painting in the late afternoon, and the main figure of my three-figure painting is almost finished. I'll paint the two smaller women before Monday, and then Marco can guide me in painting filmy layers of fabric on top of the gowns I have painted, and also recommend a few other touches.
I think I'll take the painting back home and will finish it next week. So perhaps we'll work on the faces and hands, too.
Yes, I really want to paint farmyard chickens, and will sit at the Gasperoni's henhouse soon to sketch their hens and chicks. I'm really looking for chickens with elaborate headdresses, but the simple hens and chicks are still incredible looking. What amazing examples of nature they are!
It's a cool night, and we turn in early. Tomorrow we'll have a busy morning, and tomorrow night we'll attend another sagra, this time in Montecampagna, outside Amelia, with Steve and Darcy whom we took language lessons with five years ago and Kate and Merritt. If I can, I'll sneak in a little painting, too.
July 6
We arrive at Orsolini early, and Alessandro greets us warmly. We show him the tiles that will not work with eachother, because they have been made incorrectly. Because they are made by hand a little curve here and there is expected. But these tiles cannot be used because the corner pieces do not match up.
Dino brings the boxes in and Alessandro will have to contend with the rep. If the rep declines to take them back, we'll talk with the boss at Orsolini. We will not be deterred...
We drive back home in the Alfa and, with Sofi still at home, get into Pandina and slowly drive on the Superstrada to Viterbo. Dino gets help unloading the shutters and even if they do not sell we are rid of them. That sound you hear is me slapping my palms as if to brush the dirt away. E fatto!
We're at home for most of the afternoon and I make a lot of headway with my painting. The border is well on its way to being complete in a very dark blackish green...the three women walking forward under tall arches. I finish for the day in time to change for tonight's sagra. Sadly we won't be able to take Sofi.
We drive to Lugnano, meet Kate and Merritt, and the four of us drive in our car to Montecampagno, where we meet Steve and Darcy in front of the reviewing stand for tonight's crowning of Miss Montecampagno.
It is like the out of town tryouts for the Palio, but instead of horses, it's the precursor to Miss Italia. In a way, it's similar; the women parade around in little bathing suits striking sexy poses, each one trying to out-step the others in an "attitude takes all" contest.
We watch the rehearsal, where the judges give pointers to each contestant (does this look rigged to you already?) and then decide to eat, where the real evening's festa begins.
For the next few hours we sit and eat and drink and talk, and it's a delightful evening under the stars. Merritt and I have a chance to get to know each other better, and I realize that I almost forgot that he and Kate were committed to buying a place in Italy years before taking their immersion Italian course in Perugia, where we met them.
The meal over, we stop back at the contest and this time each contestant is wearing the same little gold slinky dress. We don't stay until the finish, but recall that each girl looks strangely like one another. Is this a Stepford Wives moment?
At home without us, Sofi experienced some kind of event herself, turning everything over that she could in the kitchen, seemingly trying to chew her way throught Dino's new wooden shelves under the sink to get out. Poor Sofi.
What to do? We need to find a way to leave her now and then and have her not be traumatized. Dino wants her to sleep in her cage, but after five minutes of having her look out at me, I open the gate and let her sleep in her regular bed tonight.
Poor Sofi!
July 7
It was warm last night and it is warm this morning, but it looks as if we'll have a beautiful day. I do a little sewing of a piece of embroidered fabric bought at a mercato, and turn it into a summertime camisole. I like wearing these on summer evenings and like the idea of refashioning something from an antique mercato.
We drive back to Viterbo, with Sofi in tow, and pick up flat bamboo mats to cover the pergola and a few other items. Back at home, we spend the afternoon on projects; with me sewing and drawing and Dino working on repainting the bathroom and putting up a swinging towel bar in the kitchen.
Sofi remains docile, happy to be with us. We ran into Maria Elena and her husband this morning, and they will join us at the Sipicciano sagra this evening. These sagras are so much fun, so inexpensive, and a wonderful way to spend an evening without a lot of fuss in the kitchen. Our friends are here from Norway for a two-week vacation, spending most of it in their garden at the far end of Mugnano.
Tonight we'll take Sofi, partly in honor of Donatella, who lived in Sipicciano and loved dogs, and partly because young Christopher will be with us, and he loves Sofi. I don't look forward to another evening finding the kitchen topsy-turvy and the little dog out of her wits. There must be something we can do.
Maria Elena wants to drive, and drive she does to Sipicciano. The sagra takes place in the town's Poggio del Castagno, or hill of chestnuts, but there are no chestnut trees here, just grand old oak trees.
This is a sagra delle lepre, or wild hare, and although I think I like the taste of it, I really don't. Since I have been having trouble at night after eating at these sagras this past week, I eat only a green salad and a couple of fries. Sofi polishes off a few mouthfuls of lepre, and is so happy to be here with us, sitting under the table while we eat and chat.
The music won't start for another hour, so we decide to leave and stop at Walter's for his famous gelato; then drive home for prosecco on our terrace.
We park just under the tower, and on the way up to town are disappointed that the tower is not lit. Is something wrong? Evidently the light turns on depending on the darkness outside, so just as we step out of the car it begins to cast it's light on the symbol of Mugnano, the thousand-year-old tower.
The bus stop is filled with people, all staring at us as we walk down the street. Sofi rushes over to greet a few pals, then is frightened by a couple of small cats, cats who are just afraid of her as she is of them. She rushes home and plays on the terrace, while we sit under our imagined pergola and sip prosecco.
The night ends with thoughts of mellow days and nights ahead in the continued mild weather. The weather really is extraordinary for this time of year. In past years we've been melting at our lavender festas, spending most of the days and nights inside, cowering from the heat.
Soon we'll have our pergola and cover from the midday heat. But now the nights are cool, the days warm and fresh with plenty of breeze, or brezza.
July 8
It's one of those perfect Italian summer mornings, with the sound of birds but nothing else to disrupt the peacefulness of this tranquil spot.
Dino's set to paint the bathroom, for he's a constant putterer, and after we walk back from church will finish the job. With the paint on my most recent painting drying a little so that I can put a measured wash on top of the garments to give them a gossamer glow, I'll not paint today. Nor will I sew, for the latest camisole was finished last night and there is nothing to work on for the moment.
The garden needs work; it always needs work, but perhaps I'll start on a major cleaning project instead, setting aside things we don't need and simplifying our space. I've wanted to do this for some time. And now that there's a place in Viterbo where we can get rid of anything we don't need, there's a reason to do it.
Last night there was talk about the need for speed bumps on our street, so we'll ask the Gasperonis if they know if we need a petition, or what to do to have a couple installed; one in front of Giustino's just over the rise of the hill and one at the bus stop. This street has become a speedway, and even Francesco, the Vigili Urbani, has killed a cat. But he loves to speed up the hill, so will not be of help here.
We walk up to mass and it's the smallest group we recall. But among the people today is a man who is involved in the restoration of the Duomo, and after Don Luca presides at mass, he and Livio and Mauro walk to the Duomo to decide what color/s to paint it.
Tiziano and Dino and I follow them up the street, and see that there are about six different colors. I love our neighbors, so won't comment on the choices. So we'll see what they pick on August 15th, when the Duomo is to be unveiled.
In the meantime, there has been no meeting regarding what the Festaroli gifts will consist of. I suppose Mauro will tell me when it is time...hopefully soon.
In the meantime, today is the giro for this year's committee, and Carlo comes to our house while Dino is out shopping. He tells me that of the 17 people chosen to work, only three or four actually work. Sounds familiar, What I like is that they have split Mugnano up into neighborhoods, so no one has to walk the entire village each month. Good thinking.
Dino is intent on watching Formula 1, this week's race is in England. But he dozes off and misses the exciting beginning. It's an exciting race just the same, although I don't watch much of it.
With a little sewing, a little cleaning, a little organizing, the afternoon passes by before we know it. After the race, Dino climbs up into the persimmon tree, which is huge this year, and begins his annual clip. When he comes into the house to change for dinner, he shows me two wasp bites. Or at least I suspect they are wasp bites. He's not concerned.
Today is Kate's birthday, and they have asked us to join them for her birthday cena at a local hotel. We're looking forward to it, and this time Sofi will stay in her cage in the dining room while we dine, safely away from anything she can anxiously bump over or chew. She seems to like her cage very much, so we're hoping this will work for her.
Tonight we join Kate and Merritt at Il Palazzetto in Tenaglie for a special birthday dinner for Kate. The building is impressive, there are seven guest rooms, but is the food ever mediocre! I am sorry for Kate, for she was looking forward to a special dinner. It was a pleasant evening anyway, for we had a little room all to ourselves and enjoyed the continued dialog.
We return home to a happier Sofi and climb into bed, looking forward to a cool night.
July 9
It's migraine time again, this time brought on by the red wine we drank at dinner last night. It took just two small glasses to ride me over the top. So Sofi lies in her bed watching out for me while I sleep it off until 3 PM.
Dino's already traveled to Tenaglie, met with the muratores and the clients, and reports back that we'll not have an incaso armadio in the cantina where the old tiles recorded a doorway that was closed up.
Arshi knocked out stones and grout and was only about ten inches in when he reached...the neighbor's property! So he quickly sealed it up and we'll keep the doorway bricks in place but have one less incaso armadio.
The clients leave in less than a week and Kate wants to meet a beekeper before they leave, so Dino asks Lorenzo the fabro to see if he can set something up with his uncle.
My weekly painting workshop starts late today, and I'm feeling somewhat better, so Dino loads my current painting into the car and drops me off.
Marco is impressed with the amount of work I have done, but not happy at all that I have added two figures fully dressed. I have had trouble figuring out the placement of their hands, and Marco tells me once again that to paint a figure it is important to understand the basic skeleton of the body and arms and legs. Without it, it is very difficult to tell where the hands should be place.
I am very sorry, and tell him "Mai ancora" (never again), but my choice of words is not correct. He understands, and places a sheet of tissue over one of the two figures, drawing the basic body parts on top. He takes it and tells me he will study it, and next session he'll show me how to do the hands. This is a real lesson to be learned.
I show him the anatomy book I have been studying, and also the hands I have drawn, but what I have done is not enough. This next week I'll do more drawings, and concentrate more on the anatomy.
I am now recalling in The Agony and the Ecstacy how Michelangelo spent hours and hours studying bodies and forms, and this is what I must do. It's strangely rewarding and inspiring.
There is a barbecue tonight at Marco's house, and about fifteen of us enjoy a non-traditonal Italian meal. There is no pasta served here, nor is there salad, but there is a remarkable escarole pie with pine nuts and olives, grilled thick steaks, roasted eggplant with capers, black olives, oregano, roast potatoes, an exquisite cheese cake and our watermelon granita.
I'm still not feeling well, but it was good to get out today, and it is good to get into bed.
July 10
I'm somewhat groggy, and sleep in, but after I've had a shower am ready to rework one of my previous paintings, the magenta cape and bird, while Dino returns to Tenagle to check on the status of the restoration project.
Once the clouds have been reworked on the large cape painting, I can set it aside somewhere to dry, and move on to painting a chicken or two. That means I should go to the Gasperonis' to study their animals.
In the meantime I will take out my drawing pads and do more drawing. It appears that I need to understand the human body more, so I will draw some female figures, especially with their arms outstretched. That will help me to work on the painting that is at Marco's. But first I need to deal with the magenta cape.
This has been a difficult undertaking. First, it was that I picked a translucent paint that would not cover the cape and then I had trouble enhancing it with light. Dino was unhappy with the clouds, and each time I worked on them could not get them just right.
Today I add a dark blue to the middle of the cape as a profound shadow, expand upon the lights, and work on some of the clouds. Dino likes the cape, we both love the bird, but it is those pesky clouds at the bottom that need work.
I rework the clouds, making them less defined, and am ready to call it a day with this one. I then set it aside, ready to begin work on at least one chicken painting.
Dino arrives home from the house with a loaf of Merritt's homemade bread, and we make egg salad sandwiches, using some of the tarragon in a plant we brought back from France. Tarragon is really tasty in any egg dish.
Enzo and his assistant arrive soon after pranzo and hook up gas to the stove in the loggia, then prepare the little water heater under the sink so that we can get hot water instantly. There is a piece missing, and Dino can fix that himself. These are two projects we've wanted for years...
Late in the afternoon we drive to Viterbo to meet with our good doctor, Stefano Bevilacqua. He's always relaxed, always happy to speak to us in English. We've been of the notion that it is critically important to have a doctor who speaks your language in the event there are nuances to problems or treatment. He is a real gem of a doctor, a gem of a man.
So he agrees that I have migraines, and agrees that I should be taking Laroxyl drops at night. Last night Alessandra told me that she took her drops at night and it helped her to sleep. Now that is magic to my ears, for I spend most nights dozing, and would love to conk out.
I'm "upping" my dosage of Laroxyl, and also retaking the medicine for acid reflux. He's not concerned that my condition might worsen, and I'll take the medicine every other day at first, to see if I need it more often. Less is more. Sorry for boring you, but remember this journal is a documentation of things we want to remember...
Our good doctor laughs at my concern about short-term memory loss, and about Kate's insistence that I take folic acid for it. He tells us that most people get enough folic acid in their diets, and that it certainly can't help memory loss. I think folic acid is one of those medications that one either believes in or not, and if someone thinks they are getting better with it, so be it. I am not one of them, so defer to our good doctor.
Dino's blood tests come out perfectly, but he's advised to purchase a blood pressure monitor, for his blood pressure is high. We pick one up at a Viterbo pharmacy, and Dino is instructed to take his pressure about ten times during the next month when he is relaxed to see if he really needs to change his medicine, or if his pressure is really lower after all.
Tonight is lovely and cool, and I look forward to a good night's sleep, especially after taking a few drops of Laroxyl an hour or two before turning in. I eat hardly anything, and the drops and no food to speak of should help me to sleep. Wonder if it would help Dino to sleep, but he takes different medications, so probably wont.
July 11
Last night I had the best night's sleep I've had in ages. I wake up as though I've been hypnotized and just snapped out of a trance. Well, yes, I am somewhat of a drama queen, but the change in how I feel is really dramatic.
I now feel so silly. For some reason I did not remember when I started to retake Laroxyl to take it at night. And now I remember that the good doctor in Perugia asked me if I had trouble sleeping and told me that the Laroxyl at night would help. It's a good thing Dino doesn't mind putting up with my absentmindedness.
Dino drives off to Tenaglie to check up on the plumber and the muratores, and I'm so full of life that I put some material I've never used in the washing machine to pre-shrink it to make tablecloths with, and then paint two small chicken paintings before pranzo. I am bursting with energy!
When Dino returns he is knocked out by the paintings, and it is then that I decide that I may do a series of chicken and hen and rooster paintings. I look up at the bishops' plates on the wall of the kitchen and think, "Perhaps it's time to take those down and replace them with a series of farm animals. But I'm not ready to just take the plates down without a place for them. We'll see...
After pranzo, we all drive to Tenaglie, and sit with Kate and Merritt. They agree to my design idea of making the cantina a mono-chromatic color scheme of washed white cabinets, white intonico, pale travertine, and the white handmade Sicilian tiles which are left over from the kitchen.
The three walls that will have exposed stone will have a pale grout, and the feeling one will hopefully get will be one of tranquility.
I am not for "splashes of color", jolting the eye when coming into a room. The beams are so dramatic that they will be the focal point, as will the fireplace. The basic design of the fireplace will be similar to that of the upstairs, but instead of laying mattone on the raised hearth, we will stack the tiles sideways for an Umbrian detail. Tomorrow we'll return to our favorite tile yard to choose the designated tiles in a yellowish tone.
Tomorrow when we return to the house we will remeasure for the kitchen tiles, now that the opening for the kitchen window is finished. Poor Ovidio has had the worst luck with this job, but with the new windows already on site, perhaps he won't have as much trouble installing them. He's due at our house on Saturday to finish our work.
Dino and I are a duo definitely not to be daunted. Although Lorenzo has now put our project for a pergola on our terrace on some kind of hold, telling us that he has other projects with greater priority, we string guide wire between the poles imbedded in the huge terra cotta planters so that the wisteria can grow along the front of the pergola.
We have the upright poles, just not the rest of the structure that reaches and is attached to the house. It begins to rain while we string the wire, but it is thrilling to see the wisteria stretching out and out and out, loving the wire and hugging it as far as it can reach. Yum.
July 12
With another lovely day greeting us, we're up early. Dino waters each morning, but I'm wishing he'd put more plants on the irrigation system to make it easier on him. Perhaps he likes the activity.
He leaves in Pandina for Tenaglie, for he has to give the hydraulico some instructions and wants to do it on site. Then he'll meet me in Viterbo, where we'll drop off the Alfa for some service.
I make a dessert for tomorrow's pranzo, and since the canvas I'm about to work on is still wet to the touch, I design a summer dress that I'll make out of some fabric we brought from the U S. We have a lot of it, so first I'll make a long tablecloth for the terrace. That Laroxyl certainly works when taking it at night!
I take one of the Nadia Salerno violin cd's and play it in the car while driving to Viterbo. I so love violin music, and now that it's pretty definite that I won't be playing the violin again, the music causes me to dream. Dreams are good, and I'm pleasantly resigned that any violin music I hear won't be my own.
Dino arrives just after I do, and we pick up some canvases from Klimt and food at IPERCOOP, then drive home. I make the excuse that I'll be cooking this afternoon instead of driving to Tenaglie in Pandina with Dino, for I'm not really in the mood.
I fix a cheese torte for tomorrow's appetiser and a lemon torte for dessert, poach chicken for tonnato, and I'll finish the rest tomorrow. It will be an easy cold pranzo.
We take a short walk when Dino returns home, but it's just a walk on Via Mameli, and all is quiet. It's so quiet here at night, and tonight is especially beautiful, with a brezza (breeze) and a promise of a cool night's sleep.
July 13
Kate and Merritt leave tomorrow, and today they'll come with a friend for pranzo and a little goodbye. They have been the most perfect clients anyone could imagine, and we're hoping we'll have the Piano Terra finished for them before Ferragosto (August 15th).
I explain to our guests at pranzo that although we love Italian food, during summertime our guest menus are more, well, American. What I mean by that is that the meal is served cold or at room temperature, with no hot pasta, and possibly no separate insalata course.
No one seems to mind, and my old standbies that you can read about in the food section of this web site are well received. So I have no complaints.
We drive to Viterbo to pick up the Alfa at the dealership after our guests depart, and then I drive the Alfa home, following Dino in Pandina. At home we all get into the Alfa and drive to Tenaglie, where we look over the latest work.
Most incredible is the little back bedroom, all in stone, and although I'd like it to remain that way, Dino is sure that the wall where the bed will lie should be intonico. This is not a battle I'm interested in fighting, and the clients don't seem to care. They just want it done.
We leave them and drive home, and I'm thinking about finishing that dress. But I need a zipper, so tomorrow we'll find one and I'll see if I can really design and sew a dress all by myself. I find the possibility quite amazing.
We watch an old movie on TV, and before we know it it's after 11PM. So it's time to turn in, for we're expecting Ovidio to arrive early tomorrow to finish the shutters.
July 14
It's Saturday, and Ovidio arrives and fixes a shutter or two, then takes one that is already warped and tells us he'll return with it on Tuesday. Dino has a long project ahead of him, sanding and repainting the new shutters. We're disappointed with the work, but will be able to fix anything that is not just right. They're mostly all right, just not what we expected.
After he leaves we all pile into the car and drive to Viterbo to have a chicken design copied onto larger paper and take a frame purchased recently to Klimt to have them show us how to strengthen it with the little wooden plugs it came with. It's easy to do now that the owner shows us how, and is a good idea for any frame we purchase to give it added strength.
We drive by the consignment shop, and three sets of shutters have gone, so we have them almost half sold in just one week. We drive on to Tenaglie, look at the recent work and sit with Merritt and Kate, whose faces show their reluctance to leave this paradise. We so know the feeling.
They'll leave this afternoon, staying at a hotel near the airport for their early morning flight back to Boston. But the restoration of the cantina will continue, and perhaps this next week the plumber will return and will finish the upstairs bathroom and lay the pipes for Piano Terra so that we can close up the floor and set the pavimenti.
After pranzo, I work on a large gallo (rooster) design, for the background is now dry. This morning I had an hour to work while Ovidio was here, and traced the design onto the canvas with carbon paper, then began to paint. In just a short while I was able to paint the face of the gallo, and he's quite dramatic.
We have agreed to meet Dan and Wendy at Carsulae, so I only work for an hour or two on the painting. It's to be called, "Gallo nero steps out". The next canvas, of the same size, will feature a white rooster, the two canvases painted as a pair. Within the week, we'll have all the paintings on the site. Speriamo. I think things are slowing down and there'll be more time to work on the site.
We're ready for a new project, and hope one lands in our lap soon. Dino is so good at it, and really enjoy restoration work. I enjoy the concept of introducing strangers to life in Italy, helping them to navigate the sometime rough seas and holding their hands when they need it.
With Sofi staying at home, we drive off to Carsulae for a 6 PM lecture and show-and-tell at the archeological site. Dan and Wendy meet us at the top of the hill at a restored building, but there are so many people inside that we wait outside for the talk to end, then join the others for a review of the work at the site. It is remarkable.
The site closes on Tuesday, and probably no work will be done on it until mostly the same group returns next summer. Wendy tells us that most of the funding came from participants, who paid to be included in a sort of Earthwatch-type project. A light goes on in my head and I am thinking of telling Tiziano about the concept. It would be a way for the dig in Mungnano to be reopened.
We leave the group and drive home, thinking we'll have a beer and pizza at Oktoberfest, but the pub has been moved outside to a large kind of tennis-court kind of area and a loud band is tuning up. No, grazie. So we pick up two pizzas at Girasole and eat at home with Sofi, ending the evening watching a movie and relaxing.
July 15
It's hot this morning, so I take my fan to church. There is a good-sized crowd and everyone is in a festive mood. After church Dino drives to Il Pallone to shop, and I finish making my sundress, which is quite cute. I'm amazed that I could actually sew a dress, with a zipper and no pattern, all by myself.
With newfound energy, thanks to taking laroxyl at night instead of in the morning, I'm completing projects, putting things away, as if I'm a squirrel getting ready for winter. Now and then I glance at the gallo, and this afternoon I'll return to paint it.
I also need to draw the torso for the painting I am working on at Marco's. It's the painting of three women, and he's not happy that I drew and started to paint the figures in their draped gowns before drawing the forms of their bodies.
Tomorrow night we're invited to cena at Shelly's, and it has been almost a year since we have spent any time with them. Perhaps I'll wear my new dress.
July 16
Dino drives off to Tenaglie, and Sofi and I sleep in a little. But it's too lovely outside, so we're soon up and ready to embrace the day.
Well, it may be lovely, but it is very hot. We learned early on to open our windows and shutters early, let cool air in, then close all shutters and windows, keeping the inside dark and cool during the heat of the day. Outside the temperature reaches and probably passes the 100 degree mark (37 degrees centigrade).
I draw this morning, female figures, studying female anatomy in preparation for my workshop with Marco this afternoon. I'm thinking about Michelangelo now, remembering how important it is to draw and study before setting about painting a person or an animal. He is not happy with my figures for my most recent painting in his studio. So let's see what kind of progress I can make today with his help.
The temperature is opressive all day, and Dino notices that as he pulls out of the parcheggio to take me to Marco's that it is 44 degrees Centigrade (about 105 degrees Farenheit). Marco's studio is cool, but after awhile the heat sneaks in there, too.
I work on the three women and, with Marco's counsel, make some headway. He suggests that I take the piece home to work on, especially the green/black border. At home I work on the border for an hour, then change to drive to Shelly and Claudio's for cena.
We eat outside and there is a lovely view, but the bugs, oh the bugs! Last night we had a lot of them at our house, too, probably enticed by the light. Now we're learning to keep the shutters closed before the end of the day so that we won't attract them. I'm beginning to feel that they're imprisoning us, but it's probably normal this summer, since we've had so much rain and such a mild winter.
I grimace during cena, and Shelly brings out a shirt for me to put on over my sundress to protect me. Claudio brings out a bug zapper, an electric light with a volt attachment that fries the little critters.
I'm not a fan of those machines, but there are hundreds of these little flying ant-types...but enough about that. The dinner is simple and delicious, just the right amount of food for a summer's night.
Earlier, Dino told me that he ran into Francesco today. We are to drive to his office in the Comune in Bomarzo tomorrow morning to determine the exact amount we will owe for our cemetery plot. My heart sinks just at the thought that our cemetery plot is now becoming a reality. I know it's important, so very important, to finalize the arrangements, but admit I am fearful. Dino asks me why, but I am not able to articulate my feelings.
Separately, I hope we will ask the mayor if the money for our plot can be used to repair the path in front of our property that was damaged a few years ago by excessive rain. It's worth a shot.
I'm sorry I was so silent at Shelly and Claudio's tonight. I suppose I'm preoccupied. The crickets drone on as I write this just before midnight and I am assured that in time, this fear will pass...
July 17
It's going to be another hot, hot day, but inside it is still cool. We drive to the Comune in Bomarzo and meet with Francesco, who speaks a dialect so profound that it is almost impossible to follow him. Dino later tells me that Enzo the hydraulico is now easier to understand, so that is saying something!
Francesco does not have any information, although he looks through the papers on his desk, and leaves us to gaze out the window above Duccio and Giovanna's house toward the Sacred Grove of Bomarzo, Orsini's Renaissance forest while we wait for him.
When he returns, he writes down the amount, which is less than we thought, and tells us that after we pay it at the Post Office and return with our receipt, Sr. Ivo will work up a contract. Ivo is away for ten days, so we have a little time.
We ask if we can plant a cypress tree, but he's not happy about that. We'll walk through our cemetery and through the Bomarzo cemetery and take photos where there are trees. It's not imperative that we plant a tree, we just think it would be a nice touch.
So we want to meet with the Sindaco to ask him if the money we pay can be used to repair the path to San Rocco, if we can plant a cypress tree on our cemetery plot, what it would take to install speed bumps on Via Mameli, and lastly, if he can help us to apply for citizenship early.
We are told that those persons who do work for the community can sometimes obtain citizenship early. Hopefully we can get some movement on at least one of these items.
We drive to the house, take measurements for the tile for the kitchen and Roberto, the hydraulico, arrives while we are still there, telling us he'll work today on the things he is to complete.
While we are there, Maria stops by with another neice to see when Tani can begin to rebuild the pathway between Don Salter's house and hers. If the hydraulico does his work when we need him to at this house, perhaps we can sacrifice two men in ten days if things proceed on schedule. We'll see. If not, Maria doesn't want them to do the work until the end of September.
Stefano the gardener stops by and we pay him for the melograno tree. He asks us where to plant the plumbago bush or two that Kate wants, and we tell him we want to wait to decide. I don't want to just plunk a plant down. It must work with the rest of the space.
As we talk, I see it growing up against the South-East corner of Kate's studio, cascading East toward the house. But I'll need time to think about it, and we probably won't get them planted until fall, anyway.
Late in the day we return to the house to meet Tani. We drive to the house where he is staying to look at a possible mantel beam for the downstairs fireplace, which is beautiful, by the way. It is a bit smaller, but just as beautiful as the fireplace upstairs.
We stop in Sipicciano for a gelato on the way home, for now it is about 100 degrees. It is a good thing Sofi stayed at home. Walter is at the bar, and tells us that he named the chocolate flavor with hazelnuts after Donatella, for it was her favorite.
There is a small poster next to the door announcing a kind of wake in honor of Donatella next week in Bomarzo. We'll surely show up, and since it is the night before Duccio and Giovana leave for a month in the country, perhaps they will attend as well. We'll find out when we spend the evening with them on Friday in Todi.
We stop at a ferramenta (hardware store) to research door locks, and while we are there see tongue and groove planks of wood that would be perfect as the roof of our loggia. We ask for a price, and Dino will figure out what the material will cost.
Earlier in Bomarzo Dino located Stefano the muratore and asked him if he'd put another hole in the house for one more support for the pergola. We are going to extend it in one direction about one meter and a half, so that the pergola will extend the entire length of the house from the front door.
He tells Dino he'll make the last hole in the front of the house this week, and when he arrives we'll ask him for a preventivo for the loggia roof. Perhaps we can afford to do the roof earlier than we thought. It would certainly be wonderful to have a rainproof roof for the loggia before winter sets in.
July 18
Tani tells Dino that the old plank cost €50, so that 's an excellent price. He has it on the back of his truck when Dino drives over there after watering at home this morning.
The plumber is nowhere to be seen (sigh!) but the workers keep busy, repointing the stone walls and finishing the fireplace. Dino tells them the bathroom walls on Piano Prima have to be painted before lights are installed, so that will proably be done in a day or so.
With the extreme heat these days, the workers arrive around dawn, then leave at around 2PM, for the house faces west and it's too hot to work inside in the afternoon. We don't blame them. When Dino arrives home for pranzo at around 1:30, he's very hot.
This morning I worked on the painting of three women wanting it to be dry before Monday for the velluta treatment I'll give it under Marco's direction. Paint must be dry in order for this treatment (a kind of wash with white paint mixed with paint thinner softly painted over the surface).
Dino picked up the last pole for the pergola support in Viterbo early this morning, and Stefano will install it soon. It will allow us to extend the pergola all the way to the end of the house closest to the loggia. This will offer us protection from the early morning sun, which can be quite hot.
We're confident that it will be built this summer, but when we are not sure. It may not be finished before September, but we'll enjoy sitting under the structure all year long, so what's the hurry?
July 19
Dino will take Candace and Frank to the woodworker in Bassano this morning, then we'll all have pranzo in Guardea at Dino's favorite fish restaurant. After that, we'll take them by the Tenaglie house to show them what has been done since they've last seen it.
The sky is an invisible color this morning, so we know it will be very hot. Dino put a new sprinkler in motion (ha) last night, and it sends a light spray over everything in the lavender garden from its temporary post on a gravel path. I'm not a fancier of watering plants from above, but am so grateful that he has an interest in watering that I succumb to his wishes.
Hot, hot, hot...We're thinking about Kate and Merritt telling us that they want lots of light in their restored house. But in summertime it is so hot that everyone keeps their shutters closed. We know the drill, and it's a pleasure to snap the new closures on our shutters each morning to close them and each evening to open a couple of them.
Dino gets a price from Nando, his friend in Bassano, for the wood we'll need for our loggia roof. Candace and Frank have a good meeting there, too but will probably stay with the supplier they have.
We all drive to Tenaglie, show them the house and talk to the crew, then drive down to our favorite fish restaurant. Three of us have sogliole (sole) and it's roasted and incredibly delicious. It's always fun to get together with our good friends, and Sofi rests under the table after having her pranzo. The restaurant is air conditioned and we are all happy to be out of the heat.
We say goodbye to our friends, drive to Viterbo where IPERCOOP and LE CLERQ are both open. That is so strange, for food stores are supposed to be closed on Thursday afternoons. We have no idea what this exception is, but are happy to slip in to pick up a few groceries and then stop at KLIMT so that I can pick up some more paints.
. At home, Dino relaxes while I paint a donkey under a tree. I've just taken a photo out of a magazine that I like, and will see if I can reproduce it accurately. It's a difficult subject, and I'm not sure I can master it. After a while, I stop for the night and will take the painting up again in the morning. It's the nuances of the donkey's expression that I'm wondering about.
"You amaze me, simply amaze me!" Dino tells me as he watches my face while I paint. I suppose it's my lack of fear that strikes him. I love the challenge of painting something new, the challenge of turning a subject into something that looks real.
I'm not deterred about this donkey. If I can't figure it out I'll take it to Marco on Monday. The three women painting is wet, for earlier I finished the background, and I'll work on it again on Monday. For the next several days the paint needs to dry, so that I can use a velluto treatment on the women's gowns. What fun this all is!
The night is warm and humid, and I turn in early, probably to read. I am reading a ghastly book, In The Hand of Dante, but have this strange obsession about books...If I pick one up and begin to read it, I must finish it. I suppose that dates back to a childhood promise I made myself...to finish anything I start. It's a long story...
July 20
We're to drive to Todi with Duccio and Giovanna tonight for a concert in which Giuliano will be playing, and we're looking forward to it.
I paint another little painting, this of two ducks, but it's just too hot to do much of anything. Dino leaves early to do a few errands for the house and returns needing to cool off and relax.
At 7PM we leave to pick up Giovanna and Duccio and have grand evening in Todi. Dino loves to drive, and is happy to chauffer us for the hour or so it takes to get there. We don't realize how very hot it will be, so are not dressed in our lightest clothes.
In the theatre we wilt, and I have forgotten to bring a hand fan, so Dino fans us with a program while we watch the entertainment. Duccio and Giovanna's son Giuliano is a fine piano player, and accompanies about half of the entertainers in a very enjoyable show.
Afterward we have pizzas at an outdoor restaurant in the midst of Todi, and arrive home around 1 AM. The heat in the theatre worked on me, and I fear a migraine is right around the corner. So I take an imigran tablet, and it really knocks me out.
July 21
The imigran tablet really worked, and although I'm groggy, the headache did not turn into a migraine. What a relief.
Dino spends part of the morning working on sanding and touching up shutters, and we're not surprised when Ovidio calls to say the shutter that had warped needs a few more days in the oven to cure.
The tomatoes don't look very promising, but we have not done the proper tending of them anyway, so we're blessed that we have any. It's just too hot to do much work in the garden.
The property still looks good, so the abundance of gravel was a really good idea. Most things are surviving, and we're just not worrying about the five or six lavender plants scattered around that have not been pruned in their prime. We'll cut them in a week or so, but the lavender is not worth keeping. I like the idea of not obsessing about every last plant. We'll surely plant a few this fall, but not replace every one.
The afternoon is quiet, and we work on the budget for our clients, now that their project is nearing completion. We end the evening with a short walk to the bus stop, where about a dozen men congregate each night, and drop off our recycling while Sofi sniffs about.
We have not seen Ennio for a while, and on the way back ask Rosina, who sits with her relatives in front of Donato's house. "Altro ieri" (the day before yesterday) he had a quadruple bypass in Terni. His hospital of choice is Orvieto, but the Terni hospital has the best technicians, so everyone knows that Terni is the best place for major surgery in the area.
We are sad for Ennio, and hope he is back at home soon.
July 22
We can tell that today will be another hot one. The colorless sky appears flat against the horizon of deliciously undulating green trees, and even the birds' warbling is slow and measured.
We take a hand fan to church, and I'm busy flapping it between Dino and myself all through the mass. The air seems to pause as if to anticipate hearing a sound...and there is none. Don Luca happily plods along, the mass taking the usual 45 minutes. Afterward, we spend little time greeting our neighbors, then walk home in the hot sun, dreaming of cooler clothes and of standing in front of a fan.
It is so hot that I don't feel like painting. I feel like reading, the less activity the better. Dino drives off to Il Pallone to pick up food for pranzo, and we're thinking of attending the jazz festival in Soriano tonight....if the temperature cools down.
Dino really wants to go to Soriano, so we leave Sofi at home and drive off. On the way we talk about how much fun we have when we go out at night, but it takes a push, for we're just as happy at home.
Soriano is the most beautiful town at night. The brightly lit fortress that guards the hill town stands like a sentry as we drive up the hill. Dino knows just where to park, and it's early, so we arrive before Steve and the rest of his jazz group tune up. They are to be the "warmup act" for the main event, but the audience likes them a lot. So do we. Steve is a great contrabasso player, and he's tall and reedy, almost a caricature of himself alongside his beautiful instrument.
Marco is also in the audience, and comes by later in the evening to say hello and to tell us that later in the week will be two marvelous groups. We're thinking we might come back every night.
The music is free, and we sit outside in the main piazza at little cocktail tables with pink tablecloths and order drinks while we listen. It is all quite civilized and really an enjoyable way to spend a very warm evening. These nights are warm, warm, warm, and we can't endure sleeping without the fan on full blast.
Soriano is such an extraordinary town, with many of its buildings seemingly five hundred years old or more. Under tall streetlights, it's a thrill to walk beside these buildings, their shadows casting spells as we walk along their ancient alleyways toward our car.
At home Dino walks up the steps before me and sees what he thinks is a badger on the front terrace. He doesn't tell me until Sofi is outside greeting me, so when she runs off in the direction of the badger I shriek, "SOFI!" so that she'll turn around and run back. I then pick her up in my arms and rush inside.
Meanwhile, a very frightened Dino takes his big Maglite flashlight and walks around the back of the house, where he sees the critter trying to hide. Luckily he comes back inside. We are not a very brave bunch after all...
Upstairs I look up badgers and "how to get rid of badgers" on the internet. Here's what I find...
"You may be able to annoy them. Badgers don't like bright lights and noise, and some people have had success with lighting the area. Of course, bright lights and music all night long might chase you out first. The FBI doesn't seem to have much luck with this technique."
Oh, brother. Tomorrow Dino will check out the property, and we're told that if there are big holes all over the property, we have badgers. Wonder how they like gravel...
What a way to end an evening!
July 23
Dino searches for the tasser (badger) behind the house, but cannot find him. Instead, he finds one hole. I'm thinking, "So what would you do if you found him?", and perhaps this will not be the end of it.
The sky looks promising. What I mean by that is that although it is without color, clouds seem to be forming. The forecast is for more hot weather, so we'll continue our summer schedule of staying indoors during the heat of the day.
Dino tells friends that the only time he can do anything outside is in the early morning hours. That means that our garden has to take care of itself. So it is a good idea that we have a lot of gravel and no grass to speak of, other than the wild variety in front of the gardener's cottage and on the far property.
I think I'll groom a few roses before we take off for Tenaglie and then Roma for a dreaded visit to IKEA for Kate and Merritt's chair and sofabed for the cantina.
The trip to Tenaglie is cool in the air conditioned car, and we'll return home to drop Sofi off before driving to Rome. It will be too hot for her to wait in the car, and she'll be more comfortable at home.
We stop at Lorenzo's to find a sign that he's on vacation for a week. So we stop wondering when he will get back to our project...
Inside the house the hydraulico works along, but the muratores have not arrived and it's now past noon. At 1PM we leave, knowing that the muratores will be at the house any minute.
After stopping at the house, we drive to IKEA and purchase the sofa bed and some material for me to make curtains under the sinks. I like this kind of simple sewing project, and it will give our clients peace of mind to have the curtains up before any renters use the house or cantina.
Wherever we drive, we see patches along the road of burnt grass, the result of careless cigarettes being tossed out of car windows. There are so many of them that we wonder if smokers have any consideration of the danger of casting a cigarette out a car window. It is a sad commentary on the oblivious nature of many Italians. But is it any different in the United States?
Earlier while driving to the Tenaglie house we passed two Corpo Forestale men alongside the roadway, peering off in the distance toward plumes of smoke. Their jobs can't be easy.
At home, we walk up the stairs to find the final pergola pole sitting firmly in cement, stabilized between two iron garden chairs. This is MacIver at his best, and Dino wonders if Stefano took some lessons from Dino to come up with this ingenius solution to keep the pole stabilized. Dino waters the cement, knowing that tomorrow it will be solid.
we sit down for a cold pasta salad and the doorbell rings. It's two young friends of Pietro's from Norway, stopping by to introduce themselves. They come up for a visit and we've agreed to take them to the Tuscia Jazz Festival with us tomorrow night.
We sit outside with a jar of fresh plums between us, and chat away while I look out of the corner of my eye at Sofi, making sure she does not go to the back of the house. I am very fearful of the badger, fearful that he has not left the property, but there is no evidence of him.
After they leave, I begin to look for recipes on the internet for plum jam or chutney. There are so many plums on the tree that I might as well cook up a batch. Tomorrow afternoon will be a good time to make the jam, and by then we'll have plenty more from the tree. We admit that their fruit is so tasty just plunked off the tree that it's difficult to find a better way to eat them.
July 24
It's Terence's birthday, and we'll be sure to call him later.
Meanwhile, Dino leaves for Tenaglie and Sofi and I stay at home. The oppressive heat continues, and I'll do a little painting in the kitchen, safely out of the hot sun.
The wisteria is taking off, sending its tendrils out into the air, some reaching toward the house just as we'd hoped. So how long will it be before the pergola is installed? I'm optimistically thinking August 10th, since Lorenzo won't e back at work until Monday the 30th. Let's see how close we are...
Dino laughingly shakes the plum tree, sending more than 100 plums to the gravel. If I didn't have to pick them up I'd think it was funny, too. I feel I'm on the receiving end of the game "52 pickup".
Dino does an inventory of our little glass jars, and tomorrow he'll buy tops for them. Tomorrow night we'll make the jam, and I'm thinking it won't be until about 10 P M. It will be just too hot much earlier, but the plums are so ripe that we can't just wait.
I suppose since I "got off" easily because we had no cherries, it's only fair that I make a batch of plum chutney. I think I'll make a chutney instead of a regular jam. There is so much jam around, that unless it is the marvellous figs, it's better to do something more exotic for winter and for presents when we stop by to visit friends.
Tonight Dino calls me out to look at the long shadows on the land directly below us. I think it's Pepe's big orto, always immaculate and a joy to watch.
We're taking Maryanne and Andrew, Pietro's friends from Norway, to the Soriano Jazz Festival tonight, and it's so hot I can't think of anything to wear that will be cool enough. A while ago we called Pietro to tell him that we miss him, and we'll see him in less than a month. He's arriving early, and will be here all fall. What a treat!
July 25
Our friends from England, Sweden and Finland call or email to say their weather is dreadful. Pietro has given up on trying to wait it out and will be here soon. Annika calls to say her daughter will be here tomorrow to water the plants and can we give her a ride from the train station (si certo!). We'll see Annika and Torb in September. Don and Mary email to say they're out of the worst of the English weather, but then Don is always upbeat.
He's very excited about the progress on his project that Dino is overseeing...a new walkway being built by the Qoku brothers. For a day the brothers have all been there, but mostly the project will consist of only two men...the others must finish Merritt's house.
It's been a pull and tug, with Maria saying that if the work is not done by August 5th it will have to wait until the end of September. We're worried that at the end of September the muratores may move onto other projects or return to Albania and there will be no one to do this project for them.
The muratores return to Merritt's house to finish the wall intonico, and it is only after the walls are finished that the floor pavement can be laid. We're playing a kind of game with the hydraulico, for he claims he'll be gone for all of August, and we'll need him to finish installing the plumbing, which certainly won't be ready for him before August 1. He wants to be paid, so perhaps we can get him back early.
Maryanne and Andrew stop by for a short visit, and we send them back to Orvieto to do some shopping for local specialties to take back and to relax and enjoy the town on this their last night in town. The day after tomorrow more friends of Pietro's will arrive, and we'll surely see them, too.
The heat continues, and tonight we'll stay at home. But tomorrow we'll return to Soriano to the jazz festival, which we enjoy very much.
When guests arrive and we sit around in the kitchen I'm conscious of my paintings everywhere, and want to return to them. Perhaps tomorrow. I am sure that painting is what I enjoy the most.
Writing is becoming somewhat of a plodding activity for me, and my thoughts are elsewhere, usually on the painted canvas, so this journal contains less and less of the flavors of our lives these days. I think the heat has left me feeling lethargic, without a real interest in writing about our daily lives.
Why is that? I believe I'd rather you experience the magic of being here in person. So when you arrive for a visit you'll see the magic of the place firsthand. Until then there will be snippets here and there.
The three galli (roosters) sit partially painted on the caviletto (easel) in the kitchen, and I want to return to the canvas. I'm just fascinated about bringing these animals to "life", wanting to be sure that I capture their expressions, their eyes, their positioning, in a realistic fashion. I like having the painting "sit there" for a few days so that I can think about it, instead of rushing through the process.
I read the latest issue of the Mediterranean Garden Society and think about our garden, about the craft of the gardener. We are not gardeners. We want to have a beautiful garden, an Italianate sculptured garden with a little wildness here and there. But we don't sit in the garden, other than on the front terrace. We really do have a very nice garden.
If we wanted an ideal place to in the garden, I think I'd want to sit somewhere facing San Rocco, so where would we sit and what would we change? Perhaps this fall we'll think about that.
Now I need to return to the kitchen to cut the plums and make the chutney. I hear a groan from Sofi in her little bed beside me, and even she wants me to return to the kitchen. So that's enough ruminating for today...I never do get back to the kitchen and the plums. They'll have to wait another day...
Tonight we return to the jazz festival in Soriano. It's another mild evening with wonderful jazz, especially the warmup act of young musicians, so full of life and each one brilliant in their own way.
On the drive home we spot a fire just about 50 meters from the roadway. It appears as a bright light and takes us until we've driven past to realize what it is. With the high fire danger all around us, we know we need to check it out, so turn around and pull off to get a good look.
Yes, it's a brush fire, so Dino calls the numbers he has on his Palm. First it's the Corpo Forestale, or forest rangers, but they tell him to call the fire emergency number in Viterbo instead. When we reach them, someone else has already called and they thank Dino just the same.
So we drive to the entrance of the Superstrada, turn around and wait for them. Another man pulls up beside us and it appears he has also called, so when the fire trucks arrive we lead them to the fire.
There are two trucks, and we wait a few minutes to watch some kind of chemical being sprayed in the area of the fire. It safe to drive home, knowing that we've done our good deed for the day...and it is only 12:15 A M!
July 26
O.K. So what. Hot, hot, hot.
Dino drives to Tenaglie and he and Tani put the chimney cap on Don's chimney. The muratore crew is split between this project and Merritt's house for a few days. The stairs are poured and look great.
Back at Merritt's, Zeni prepares the bathroom for intonico, and hopefully tomorrow that will be finished and they can lay the flooring. Everyone wants to get the work done, espcially the hydraulico, who announced that he will put off his vacation for one week, in the hopes that the job will be finished and ready for him to install the bathroom fixtures.
I have to laugh. He's unreliable, and now wants to push the muratores to get their work done subito!
We pick up Ingela from the train station, for she has a day off in Rome from her tour business and "comes up to water the plants and see the house", or so her mother tells us on the phone.
The trees and flowers on their property are fabulous examples of planting correctly and the owner not babying them. Our friends leave at the end of June and don't come back until September, but everything always looks great.
The plants and trees in our garden are such wimps that we have to water every day, or for some things at least twice a week during the summer. I'm convinced that we need to work toward getting a garden that mostly takes care of itself. You can tell that I'm bored with it, would much rather paint.
So paint I do, and enjoy the detail of the three roosters enormously. The 50 by 50cm almost finished, but I may paint in a plank of grained wood for one of them to stand upon. I'll see what Dino thinks. He's my advisor on what I paint. I sometimes even take his advice!
Dino comes home from taking Ingela back to the train station and doing some errands and tells me that his conjecture regarding last night's fire was correct. He drove into the area where the fire was, and there was a burned out mattress. So he told me that he thought it was caused by a prostitute, or her "john".
"I haven't caught the "perps", but I am sure of the reason for the fire, he tells me proudly. I'm still so angry with people who throw lit cigarettes out the window.
There is a T V ad that I saw today about fires, and the person merely tells the watcher to call 1515, the Corpo Forestale, or Forest Rangers. But we know by now that the people to call are the local fire department. Now if only Italy will take that concept further and remind people that their cigarettes cause most of the summertime fires....
There is more bad news. The kitchen will not be ready to be installed until sometime in September. The kitchen supplier was reminded several times to get the order out, and when we called yesterday to find out where it was they called the factory who wouldn't listen to him. Boh!
Dino's not concerned. We won't need the muratores to install the kitchen, even though we'll need them to install the tiles. So we'll hope that they'll be around if we need them...
Tonight we attend the jazz festival again in Soriano, and the music is the best yet. Jimmy Cobb on drums, George on piano, on sax, on base...we so love this venue, and it has become as important to us as the Guardea Gnocchi Festival. That means, count on us for attending at least several times during the run...
July 27
Every day or so we look at each other and say, "THAT belongs in the journal". But by the time we're at home and at the computer, we have no idea what THAT is...
Here's one that Dino helps recall: This morning, we stopped at one of Don's neighbors to find the telephone number of a young Romanian woman who Don thinks will travel to England for a visit. Anna, who is also Romanian, happily gave us the number, and when we left and told her to have a great day, she replied, "Altrettanta!"
Now my Italian is meager at best, but I asked Dino if she was correct. I had thought that the correct expression is "altrettanto" meaning, "also to you".
Dino responded that it is not a good idea to take Italian lessons from another stranieri (foreigner). After musing about this for a few minutes, I agree with him.
We visited Maria and walked down the steps from Don's property to hers, and Tani and his brothers have done a fine job so far with their work.
We stopped at Angelo's store for a few pomodori for pranzo, and he had three kinds to choose from. When I asked him which one was sweetest, he said they are all good. "It depends on your taste."
I paint for a few hours in the afternoon, and the painting of the three roosters is just about finished. I'll take it to Marco's on Monday to let him take a look. The background consists of planks of wood and that is new to me. So I'll ask Marco if he has any pointers.
Tonight we stay at home, and Sofi is so animated and full of life that she gambols between us on the couch, so happy that we are at home with her.
July 28
Telecom Italia calls in the middle of the morning, for they have copied the annoying American system of telemarketing. Usually, they begin with a roll of words so rapid that it sounds like an Italianized version of antidisestablishmentarianism...
I have my pitch..."Parla Inglesa?" I respond. The parry stops short, just over the net.
"No...a little"...and there is a silence. This is my cue...
"Arrividerci!"
Thankfully, these calls are few. We're hoping we'll have some time before other companies grab onto that dreaded American way of soliciting business on the telephone.
Dino drives to Orsolini in Pandina, to pick up the remaining pieces of the Tenaglie order. We have room in the parcheggio for Pandina as well as the Alfa, so we'll lock it up inside the gate for the weekend. When workers are at the site on Monday, he'll drive the remaining items up then.
It's better to stay inside today, so I paint, this time a hen with a few chicks. After studying the three-rooster painting, I may replicate it with no background. The current background of wood is good, but it takes the drama out of it.
Frank is not feeling well, but Candace wants to join us anyway at the jazz festival tonight. So we meet her in Bomarzo after we stop in at Donatella's art showing.
Evidently there is an outdoor space now called the Donatella Valori Museum, and artists she has mentored have their work there. There is also a lovely garden, and the spot is adjacent to the restaurant Piccolo Mondo in Bomarzo. We've not been to the restaurant in years, but it is a good restaurant and we'll go back soon.
The festival's music tonight in Soriano at the jazz festival is the best yet, with a very talented Joey DeFrancesco on organ raising the excitement level to a fever pitch. First, a young group of musicians did a set, and they were excellent with a lot of spirit.
It was clear that Joey is well liked amoung his peers. Every time he performed a solo, people in the audience hooted and hollered. The evening ended at around midnight in a jam, with Joey bringing up other musicians to add to the mix.
Since this is a notte bianco (white night, meaning the music goes on all night), stores were open, the local bands paraded in the streets along with Soriano's five contradas and their members in regal costumes. Flag throwers and drummers were included in the processions, and Candace and I were very pleased to note that most of the drummers were female this time, which is unusual for conservative Italia.
Even the cynical headliners stopped their drinking and chatting to take photos of the processions. It is very clear that this is an incredible venue for the performers. Soriano is a wonderfully characteristic town, and the opportunity for accomplished musicians to get together with their peers and jam, as well as take in some local color, makes this a festival some may think is better than Umbria Jazz in Perugia and Orvieto. The venue is more intimate, the organizers are not as difficult to deal with, and there is a quaintness and lack of sophistication that is indearing.
Italo tells the audience that the festival will continue in Soriano next year, and it will be bigger, so we certainly look forward to it. But for now there is another week to go, and tomorrow night we'll return with Duccio and Giovanna.
July 29
We're both really tired, but walk up to church and join the summer group of residents for mass with Don Ciro. Afterward we speak for a minute or two with Tiziano, and then greet Felice, who is sitting over on a bench in the shade. We missed not seeing him, or Marsiglia, in mass, but he seems fine.
I don't think the plums will find their way to little jars of chutney or jam...it's just too hot. We eat a grilled pork loin and cold pasta salad, then work on our clients' budget until our phone meeting later in the day.
It's still quite hot after 7 P M, but we're going to pick up Duccio and Giovanna, so try to cool off for an hour or so in front of a fan. We don't have any air conditioning, but somehow keeping the house cool and using fans seems to work. It's not perfect, but we're not ready for noisy air conditioners yet...
I write my autobiography for the Arte & Benessere group in Bomarzo to display alongside my art, at their request, and Tiziano tells me that he'll help translate it. This time, there is nothing at all about my work life included, only my schooling and art education and training. It's an interesting exercise.
I am still thinking of painting flames at the bottom of the painting I'll finish with Marco. It currently lacks drama or purpose, and the addition of flames will give it more of a metaphysical feel. I believe that art, when at its best, creates questions in the eye of the beholder and elicits comment and conversation. So...come no?
As a full moon rises over the rocca of Soriano tonight, we watch tonight's jazz festival with Candace, Phil, Carol, Duccio and Giovanna. We surely love the atmosphere...and the music!
July 30
There is a fair amount of wind this morning, for open windows here and there slam shut as I'm getting up. Dino is already up, has finished watering and leaves for Tenaglie with Pandina.
This little car is really a workhorse. The wrapped package containing the glass door to the shower in Piano Terra of the Tenaglie house looks like a kind of sail on top, and in this wind I'm thankful the car is full, or perhaps Dino would sail across the meadows of Sipicciano on his way. He's bringing the last items to install in the Tenaglie house restoration.
Tonight we return to Soriano for more jazz, and Marco and his friends join us in a sheltered spot. Wind has picked up and it is actually chilly. Perhaps the summer heat will turn cool for a few days. We are hopeful.
Back at home, it is past midnight when we open our emails. So about that wind thismorning, slamming doors shut. It was the sounds of death...
We had not walked up to the village for days, nor have we looked at any death notices. But Ennio, Basquia's master, has died, and we only find out when his funeral bier passes in the late afternoon with the cortege of mourners from the village. His death seemed to come so quickly. It was only a few weeks ago that he entered the hospital for a heart bypass operation.
In the procession leading the funeral car, Rosita walks just behind Rosina, and we ask, "Che e?" She tells us it is Ennio, and then the casket passes, followed by Ennio's son, who looks over at us, gently smiles and nods. His wife follows as a passenger in their old red panda. We make a sign of the cross and lower our heads in silent prayer.
Basquia, Ennio's little dog, is also in the group, pulling on his lead, with Marina holding the other end and trying to keep up. We are so sorry we did not see the notice, for we surely would have attended the funeral and joined the mourners.
But it is tonight's email that jolts me as if someone is holding me by the shoulders and shakes me...hard. Cousin Cherie's husband, Pete, has died of liver failure. He died more than six weeks ago, but it is only now that she has the strength to email us to let us know.
Tears run down my cheeks, and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness covers me like a veil. We pick up the phone to call Cherie, but she won't answer. There is only a message machine. So I leave a message but cannot seem to finish. I want to hang on, hang on, hang on. I am jolted by a beep and then silence. The air feels like lead.
July 31
I wake to the sound of buzzing in my ear, and the air about me feels so very heavy. I mourn the loss of a good man, and as the day continues Pete is ever in my thoughts.
I go about the day as if in a fog. There is a pedicure with Giusy, and information about places to visit on our Puglia trip in September.
There is a trip north to Dan and Wendy's in Niccone, above Umbertide, and a friendly pranzo inside a local cantina, where we run into Carol and John, who we have not seen since Provence last September. Carol is on crutches, nursing a knee accident, but it is good to see them, if only for a minute.
The meal ended, we stop back at Dan and Wendy's house, which now looks lived-in and full of character. They have done a masterful job, especially with the garden. I feel strangely out of sync, but welcome the diversion with these good friends. They're to spend a few days travelling in Italy before returning to the Bay Area for a month or two.
Their aubergines and peppers and tomatoes look so healthy that I am sure that we must move our tomatoes closer to the house on little raised beds next year. They are too "out of sight", and we are so distracted that we don't tend them properly. So what we are able to pluck in our own garden is paltry, the vines surely overgrown and untended. Puor troppo!
We say goodbye until September, and return via Todi to check out a tile yard for specific tiles for the driveways of Don and also Kate and Merritt. Their prices are very high. So we'll stick with the supplier that Tani has found.
We stop at Todi Castle to meet Kathee and her husband and family, who are there for a family reunion. The castle is wonderfully "over the top". The family has taken over most of it for their reunion. What a storybook location! Who would know that a place like this really exists. Look it up at: www.todicastle.com
On this night of a full moon, we consider it an auspicious sign that we met new friends today and look forward to getting to know them. Kathee is a realtor in Mill Valley, and we may join forces to seek out new adventurers from the San Francisco Bay Area who are interested in property and property restoration in Central Italy.
Earlier tonight, while visiting Kathee's family, I spent a few moments with her mother in law, Mrs. Burke, who had gathered her family together in Italy for a reunion. Various members sat with her around the dining room table playing a card game and perhaps talking about their lives...
With thoughts of my own family on my mind, I spoke with her about the importance of family, recognizing myself that there were so many things about my mother and my father that I did not know. If only I could sit around the dining room table with them and ask them about their own lives, about how they felt, about what life was really like for them growing up...
And so we both acknowledged the shared vision that this rite of passage, this questioning about the lives of loved ones, is a knowledge that is lost with a breath and can never be regained.
There are treasures to be explored in every relationship, especially among family members. And if they are not, they are left like Tiziano's cherished Etruscan archaelogical dig, covered over with earth and perhaps left for future generations to uncover...or turned to dust, the mystery of them vanished forever.
We end the month with an homage to Peter Mann, who graced this earth with his presence and brought such joy to dearest Cherie and their extraordinary son, Eli.
Although we did not find out about Peter's death until last night, we hold his other loved ones in our hearts and wish them peace.
Here's what Eli had to say about his father, who died early in June....
"Serenade for A Father's Journey
In this age of reason, our culture has a colloquialism that is used in times of anguish, whence adversity is conquered, hurdles are leapt and trials and tribulations are circumvented. "You can't keep a good man down."
What if the person one were addressing was not a "good" man? My father was not a "good" man; his mind, body, spirit and vocabulary far surpassed and transcended the word "good". He was an extraordinary man.
So what can't you keep an extraordinary man from doing? It seems that extraordinary men are able to rise above being down, being out, being under, being below par and are beneath nothing and no one.
My father was a 'modern renaissance man', beyond being brilliant, well-read, well-traveled, playing numerous musical instruments with proficiency, being a gifted writer, artist, conversationalist, story-teller, thinker and doer, he was, in my mind, the perfect father.
He became the man I aspired to be, the mind I aspired to have, the words I sought to attain, the knowledge I desired to acquire and the love and compassion he instilled in me. An extraordinary man cannot be a "good" father.
Nor was he what society would consider a "traditional father". We didn't play catch, we went to museums. We never shot the shit, we went to the movies. We didn't have projects we worked on together, we went on road trips. He didn't give fatherly advice, he helped me find my own answers.
We took many road trips when I was younger, I saw San Francisco, San Jose, Santa Cruz, Big Sur. I saw Las Vegas, Orange County and everywhere in between. The one thing you really see on road trips are the people you're riding with. You see them at their best, you see them at their worst. You see their worst flaws and their most wonderful qualities.
On the road, I met my father. Rather than sitting in silence, or drowning our words with song, I learned who my father was, where he'd been, what he'd done and who with. And the more I learned about Peter Mann, the more I admired him. Not just as my father but as a man.
The more time we spent together, the more we knew about each other. He taught me to think for myself and to develop initiative and reasoning. A good man could probably tell you who you are. But an extraordinary man knows that you are who you were born to be and allows you to be that person while guiding you along a moral and fulfilling path.
He taught me to question things because you want to know. He taught me to appreciate creative endeavors, art, music. He taught me to suffer with dignity. That there is no such thing as useless information. That compassion and understanding can be fulfilling in and of themselves.
He showed me all these things and countless others that I could go on relating ad nauseum. But I won't; not because I can't, not because it would bore you, or even because they may not mean anything to you. But because they now become our unspoken bond.
They are now words and wisdom that I carry silently without a reciprocant. Its certainly true, 'You can't keep a good man down', but if you were to ask me what you cannot keep an extraordinary man from doing, I couldn't think of a thing."
Bravo, dear Eli. You are an extraordinary young man. I feel honored to know and love you.
AUGUST 2007
NEW THIS MONTH:
A SECTION ON PAINTINGS BY EVANNE
and
ITALIAN COOKING TERMS , BOTH IN ENGLISH AND IN ITALIAN
August 1
We spend the day on the budget, then take a break and attend the Soriano jazz festival. The festival is winding down, and tonight we hear a chanteus who is less than enthralling. In fact, after about twenty minutes Dino asks me if I want to leave, and I am relieved.
So arrividerci Tuscia in Jazz for the year. C'e veddiamo next year.
August 2
This morning is fun. We drive to the house early, then to Montecchio to meet Kathy and her husband, Peter. They are good sports, sitting in the back seat while we show them around Tenaglie, zeroing in on one of our properties and then showing them the restoration.
Since our clients want to rent out their house when they're not there, we tell Kathy that, and she's very interested to rent the house if she and we can do some business together.
We take her on to Dierdre's beautiful house in Capitone. Diedre is a very interesting woman. When we thank her for showing her house at the last minute she responds, "My dear! I am a seller. I will show my house any day, any time, and will cancel any previous plans..." Kathy and her husband are impressed with that, and so are we.
So we've shown them a sample of what we can find for Kathy's clients, and she has some pondering to do. We'd love to work with her. We drop them off and wish them a safe trip back to Mill Valley.
Since it's late, we stop at our favorite restaurant, Il Gelsi, and I of course eat sogliolo (sole). Dino orders his seafood appetiser and linguine vongole. This is such a great restaurant. Sofi all but inhales her pranzo at our feet and then stretches out under the table. She is growing up, easy to take with us, and she's happy to be included.
After last night's less than stellar performance at the jazz festival, we've decided to forego the rest of the week, planning instead to concentrate on the Guardea Gnocchi Festival. Dino reserves a table for Sunday night and calls Claudio and Shelly to see if they'd like to join us. Si, certo.
The night ends with Dino turning the outside lights on to hopefully scare the badger. Earlier he called Tiziano and Enzo for advice, and they think that lights may scare it away. I surely don't want to come upon it, nor do I want Sofi to be surprised by it. "Vaia con Dios, ma vai!" (Go with God, but GO!) That's Spanish, but you get the picture.
August 3
We're up early and take Sofi to her groomer in Viterbo, then take advantage of the time alone by zooming off to Rome. First we stop at IKEA to exchange a sofa cover for our clients. We're there when it opens, but it takes 45 minutes to wait in line and then be waited on.
That done, Dino wants to drive in to Rome to see two or three art stores and then walk on the Corso to a mega bookstore. Of course I agree to all of it.
Dino is a driving machine. He loves to drive, loves to navigate in Rome. I know. I know. He is one unusual fellow. With rapid-fire precision, he loops around Rome, taking one turn and then another. We wind up just where he wants to be, near Piazza del Popolo, and of course finds a parking place. Again, he has incredible parking karma.
We find the art stores, and inside there is a magical book of Leonardo Da Vinci's anatomical drawings. There is an entire envelope of them on card stock, quite amazing, so of course I have to have it. There is a sale on stretched canvas, so we pick up two of those, as well as a tavolloza da foglia. That last one is a pad of artist paper that one uses to dollop paint upon.
Each time I paint I use a fresh sheet, and throw that out when I wash my brushes. Yes, I am faithful to my brushes, washing them out every single time I use them. And there are fifty or so sheets, so the pad will last a while.
Walking down the Via del Corso, we stop for juice and a suppli, just across from the giant bookstore, Mondadori. A suppli is a rice-and-tomato and mozzarella filled oval ball, wrapped in breadcrumbs and fried. This bar makes very tasty ones, still hot when we plop them into our mouths but not too greasy.
With renewed energy, we scour the bookstore for books on Puglia and also art books. I find two, and we find one on the families of Rome. I'm inspired by Rome, by the color, by the buildings, by the architecture, by the feel of the place. It's a magical city, one that we never tire of. But then, we've hardly scratched the surface.
We call Karina to see if she's free for coffee, even look for her at her favorite bar, Rosati, but she sends us a text message that she's on her way to Naples with Barbara. That girl can write! Can you imagine a text message that goes on and on and on?
We drive up the S2, the Cassia, past Olgiata, past Capranica, past Vetralla and before we know it we're at the groomer. Sofi runs around me, so happy to see us, and so happy to be with us again. She is a beauty.
We drive to Tenaglie, take a photo for Don of his project, and see Alessandro outside his house, looking up at the sky. With no forecast of rain, the sky is very dark and wind whips across the hill, telling us that rain will arrive anyway.
We stop at the house to look around (the workers have gone but everything looks great), then on to Guardea to make a reservation for the gnocchi festival on Sunday. This is the second weekend of the festa and we have not attended once!
Rain greets us at home, but it is a short shower, cooling off the almost 40 degree day. We're happy to be home, and although I want to paint, I am too tired. Tomorrow, tomorrow....
August 4
It's time to paint after lolling in bed for a while, and Sofi and I get up. Dino is already up and on his way to Lorenzo's to see if he can do some of the work on the pergola to nudge him to work on our project. Lorenzo is a one-man band, and an excellent craftsman, so his clients have to wait for him. It's worth it.
It looks as though it will be hot again today. I close the shutters as the birds outside serenade us. Feeling somewhat lazy, I paint for a while, then fix pranzo. This feels like a really lazy summer day.
Dino returns to tell me that Lorenzo is moving in the next few months to a much larger space in Guardea. He will have an assistant, and part of the reasoning is that he does not like to have his clients wait so long for his work.
Dino spends about an hour there, watching the process of Lorenzo bending the heavy iron bars that will be framing for the roof of our pergola. It is a timestaking process, and now we have a better understanding of the time it takes to work in iron. If we are lucky, he'll be here on Friday. We've heard that before. Perhaps this time it will happen.
It is so hot here while I hang up the laundry outside, that I'm noticing that the entire garden is wilting in this oppressive sun. This fall there will be some major changes to the garden. We're just too tired of having it look dried out. Even the box is showing signs of heat exhaustion.
The badger is still on the property, but Dino is psyching him out. He thinks he knows where the critter is hiding, and is blocking up suspected areas with mesh. Each morning Dino investigates. This morning there was only one big rock moved. We're hoping he will move on...
Tonight Dino drives off with Mauro. There is a procession and dinner in Vignanello for the Confraternita. That means Sofi and I have a girls' night in. I'm reading a good book, The Falls, and love the idea of getting in bed and reading. Sofi loves hanging out by my side.
August 5
Dino returned late last night and this morning recounted the evening:
"Eight Confraternity members from Mugnano park at the upper end of Vignanello, and walk in costume to the Duomo. There they are joined by four other Confraternitas (Grotto Santo Stefano, Vignanello plus one other) plus "tanti genti" (many people) from the town.
On this night, the celebration is for their two patron saints, San Biagio and Santa Jacinta, who are carried through the town on their respective biers by big strong facchini (porters). The men, dressed totally in white, wear red belts around their waists and red scarfs wrapped around their heads, struggling all the while under the great weight of each bier."
To Dino, this is reminiscent of the Macchina di Santa Rosa in Viterbo held on September 3rd each year. Perhaps this night is a dress rehearsal. Tonight there are six facchini holding up Santa Jacinta and twenty or so carrying San Biaggio. In Viterbo on September 3rd, when the magnificent Macchina di Santa Rosa takes place, more than one hundred faccini transport their patron saint, Santa Rosa, through the streets.
Dino continues, "The procession up and down the streets of the town ends at the steps of the Duomo in the main square, opposite Castello Ruspoli (Ruspoli castle). At a certain point (there's that "a certo punto" again...) the square is darkened. There is a hush from the crowd, a silence, and then fireworks erupt behind us above the Castello."
"At the front of the roof of the castle, placed every 15 inches, white rockets blast in unison, setting off a waterfall of sparks covering the entire front of the castle and spilling into the grand moat surrounding the castle. This lasts about five minutes until all rockets have been spent.
"Still more fireworks explode over the square. There is a pause, and then the two saints are carried back into the cathedral and returned to their respective places. Our work here is done, so we leave." As I'm hearing this, I'm reminded of the classical music concert we attended in the garden of Ruspoli some years ago, ending with a spray of fireworks from the roof. Every town has it's own celebration in honor of their patron saint, ending with a display of fireworks, called a "Spettacolo". But it is only when one attends a Spettacolo in Vignanello that one understands the real meaning of the word, "spettacolo". As we leave the gate this morning for mass, the sound of Pepe's tractor fills the air. We wave, and then Dino walks over to our dear friend, sitting high on his tractor seat. He asks if Pepe has asini (donkeys).
"Si!" Pepe responds. "Due!"
The other day we passed Pepe, plus Natalino in his car, Spaccese in his vehicle and another car, at the foot of the Mugnano hill leading into the village. They were trying to corral Pepe's donkeys, which have a practice of escaping and running into the nearby bosco (woods).
Pepe tells us that when we passed the other day, they were trying to get the donkeys back from the woods. We asked their names and he responded, "Priscilla and Maggiolino". We look forward to meeting them.
This is great news, for we think there should more animals living in the countryside around the village, especially at the time of the blessing of the animals in January. Perhaps now we'll be able to convince Don Luca that it is time that Mugnano has its own blessing again. For several years we have had to attend the mass in Bomarzo, but it's not the same.
I look forward to painting Pepe's new animals, once I am more comfortable painting horses and donkeys in general. This weekend I am working on painting a little boy on a horse, led by an older man.
The subject is taken from a photo that we took one morning in early May in Marta, a village known for its festival in honour of the Madonna del Monte, called Festa delle Passate, which is often called Barabbata. This painting is an exercise suggested by Marco, and when all his students are finished with our paintings of the event, there will be an exhibition in Marta.
A call comes in from Candace and Frank, and we're invited to cena at their house tomorrow. Candace's garden is a great success. She spends quality time there, enjoying the time more than we do in our little orto. It pays off.
Next year, next year... It's time that we get serious about our orto again, and this fall there will be a major change in the garden as well as in the orto. I'm repeating this mantra often enough in this journal that hopefully it will come true.
Tonight we attend the Guardea Gnocci Festival, and have invited Lore and Alberto, Michelle, Claudio, Ilaria and Gemma and Ilaria's husband. It's the end of the second weekend of the festa, and amazingly tonight is our first visit.
Apparently, approximately 600 people will attend tonight, for Dino has surveyed how many reserved tables there are on the street next to the piazza. The gnocci is good, very good, but the sugo (the sauce) is excellent, with just a hint of pepperoncino.
The dark blue sky is so clear that stars appear as far as we can see. Claudio tells us that they went to the observatory near Bagnaia last week for the program set up by Bomarzo's Arte e Benessere to view the stars close up. Perhaps next month there will be a program, and we will definitely attend then.
As we arrive home there is talk of Mariaadelaide, who apparently suffered a stroke last month. She is the voice of strength during mass, leading us in our acapella rendering of the four hymns each Sunday. But today we noticed her shaking hand, and Dino notices that there is some change to the side of her face.
There is so much that we don't know about the village, about the people who live here. We float along the edge, making polite conversation. And after all we think this is the best way to know our neighbors. We view them as if through a veil.
And I think of the conversation recently with Duccio. Italian families smother eachother, but are always there for them. I wonder if that is better than families who ignore eachother. But for now we'll remain along the edge, prefering to mostly keep to ourselves.
August 6
Today is strangely cool. I notice a change in the temperature when closing the shutters, and the change reminds me that September, and fall, are not far away.
Dino leaves for Tenaglie, and I'm left to ponder two paintings in midstream. It's better not to paint this morning, for I'll paint for four hours this afternoon. So I'll resketch the young boy's face until I think I have an accurate representation of his expression.
Thisafternoon Marco tells me the surface of the painting of the young boy is not good. I had thought the canvas was "ready to paint", but it is not as smooth as I need it to be for the minute details. So I set it aside, agreeing that I will begin another with a smoother surface.
Instead I work on the women, and realize how long it takes to paint a complex painting. By the time Dino arrives to pick me up there is still work remaining. So next week I'll plod on. I do love to paint, finding the results amazing, thanks to Marco's great tutelage.
At Candace and Frank's tonight, we meet his former boss and wife and sit under the stars having cena. It's a beautiful night and the company is fine, with Dino sharing memories of St. Cecelia's with Mike's wife. The name St. Cecelia's grammar school pops up often in conversations with people who spent their childhoods in San Francisco.
Mike is a search consultant, and tells us about a search for an Executive Director of the Sonoma Film Festival. We give him some leads, for this is an interesting job, even if it does not pay much. Life in the Bay Area seems so very far away...
At home a headache rages, sigh.
August 7
My headache continues, with ice packs and Imigran not doing much to contain it. Last night Frank was adamant that his cure found on the internet is what I should take. So we'll take the information to our good doctor to see what he thinks.
Dino travels to the house to wait for the IKEA delivery and put up some towel bars. Don's project is just about complete, with the boys continuing to do a little work for Maria. At the main house, intonico continues. Today the electrician promises to return, and after he's through the massetto can be laid down and then the flooring.
I took an Imigran last night before going to bed, and it did not seem to do anything to alleviate my headache. So at around noon I took a Migralgine (these pills we purchased in France but are not avlb. in the U S or in Italy) and it worked. It's full of caffeine and codeine, so I'll probably be up all night, but since it took the pain away, I'm not complaining. The medicine is made by McNeil, probably in America, but it's only available in France...wonder why?
Early this evening Dino cuts a large branch from the plum tree that will be in the way of our pergola, and Dino climbs a ladder and plucks the rest of the plums. They are so very delicious, but he's not interested in having me make plum jam. Perhaps tomorrow he'll pick up some more glass jar tops and will reconsider. We just can't eat them all, so why not?
Tomorrow morning Lorenzo will arrive before 8 AMto install the pergola, and we are very excited. We have unwound any wisteria that will be in the way (several inches of metal will be cut from the top of each pole) and look forward to guiding the wisteria and also setting the bamboo sheets on top of the structure for the rest of the summer.
The terrace will have an all new look, and perhaps we'll eat our meals out there, finally...In the meantime, Dino plucks the first two peaches from our tree. They are not quite ripe, but will ripen in a day or so if we place them in the sun. Yes, Sarah, I'll think of you when eating one, the red juice running down my arms as I stand at the kitchen sink, looking out the window...
August 8
A gallo (rooster) crows under a macchiato sky. Heavenly blue peeks through clouds stained with grey, and I think I hear a second gallo, or is it just an echo of the first? Since I love to paint them, awkwardly thrusting out their red-hatted heads in a "pick-pick-pick-a-little" motion, I'd love to see them close up.
So how many roosters are there in Mugnano? I'll ask Enzo, ask Pepe, ask Luigina, ask Vincenzo; they'll surely know. Can you see it now? ..."Step right up, and get your rooster painted here...." My latest fling works its way down my arm to the brush held in my hand and I'm singing, singing the song of a happy woman.
Dino's awake first, and when I'm out of the shower he's already outside, watering, watering. Lorenzo's expected within the hour to install our pergola...It's a day to celebrate and we don't want to miss any of it.
Lorenzo arrives with Angelo, his helper, an older man who does not seem as knowledgeable as Lorenzo. He's a kind man, and Lorenzo is such a dear man that it's a good thing he's picked someone with a similar temperament as a helper.
As the morning wears on, Dino moves back and forth as a third pair of hands, and when I ask him if he'd like to be Lorenzo's assistant he responds that of course he would. I think Dino's itching for another project, almost any project. Like his father, he can't sit still for long, unless he's napping on the couch during a Formula 1 race.
The structure is up, it's enormous, undulating and gorgeous, but we now look like an agritourismo...There is a possibility that we'll look for plexiglass sheets for the top instead of bamboo, and only when we price them with our friends in Narni Scalo will we know if this is a good idea.
The structure looks a little English, but then Dino tells me that all of these structures look English. It will provide plenty of shade in the summer, protection from rain and wind in the winter.
What do you think?
We've decided not to pursue the plexiglass sheets, and will have bamboo mats or nothing on top of the structure. When we arrive home from the sagra it feels as if we've just walked under an architectual masterpiece. It's a new look, and tomorrow we'll work on the wisteria first thing, helping it to curl around the metal rods and delighting in its growth spurts.
Sofi's so happy that we're home, and on this cool night we've seen the big dipper and countless other stars in the sky on the way to our car from the sagra.
This sagra was an unexpected surprise. It's probably one of the best we've ever attended, and it is a good thing we went tonight, for it's the last night of the sagra for this year. Next year we'll have a whole list of sagras in Italy on our site, at least in Central Italy, in the event any of you want to come over and sample the local celebrations.
I'm not a fan of foccaccia, thinking it's a dense, doughy bread. This foccaccia is light and looks like a cross between a pita bread and a thin crust pizza bread, folded over with stuffings from caprese (tomato and mozzarella), to fontina cheese and rugula, sausage, tuna, and on and on. There is also pasta, prosciutto and melon and lots of desserts and of course local wine.
Now this is a tiny town, so the people come from miles around, and by the time we leave at around 10:30 it is packed, the dance floor rocking and people of all ages doing the hully gully (the Italians pronounce it "ally gally"). Italians love this dance, a line dance that never seems to go out of style in Italy.
At the table with Chubba, Kay, Candace, Frank and John, we sit around and gab while we eat and somehow the subject of animal sounds comes up. Candace tells us that Italians make different animal sounds than Americans do.
"Make a sound like a chicken!" I ask her. She tells me she does not know how Italians imitate chickens, so I'm tempted to turn around and ask someone at the next table.
In the next days we'll be sure to ask Italians and see what they have to say. Candace thinks that people from different countries make different animal sounds of the same animal. That's a very silly but perhaps interesting study...so where is our tape recorder? Stay tuned...
August 9
It's cool this morning, and we greet the day by glancing out at out new pergola, the wisteria ready to be wound around tall poles at the front of the structure. Plant by plant, we pull out the bamboo supporting poles and gently wrap the plant around the black poles. For the two middle plants, we also have roses to wind around. For the outer plants, the roses cascade down from the sides of the planter.
How long have we wanted a pergola and wisteria? A long time. So while Dino waters the four plants, I sneak off in the Alfa for Viterbo, so that Sofi won't notice I'm gone. While Dino drives to the house in Tenaglie, I'm going to pick up a few things from Klimt, my favorite local art store, and on the way back, a roast chicken.
It feels so strange to be alone in the car by myself. For all these years in Italy I've relied on Dino. Perhaps I've felt that since we no longer have a BMW, I've lost my interest in driving. It feels good to drive, and I put on a Nadia Salerno Sonenberg violin CD.
Back at home, Dino arrives soon after I do, and we have a leisurely pranzo and then decide to see if we can find a special sink for Merritt and Kate's cantina. So far we're disappointed with the choices. There is a large showroom about a half hour from us, so we call to make sure they're open and then drive down with Sofi to see what we can find.
We meet with Luca, who I like very much, and he finds us a sink that is close to perfect. The price is somewhat high and our budget is very tight, so we are going to drive to the factory tomorrow to see if we can work a miracle and purchase the sink directly.
The factory is south of Deruta, so it's worth a try. If we go back to Luca for the sink, they'll be closed until August 25th, so we have a little time to see what else we can come up with. Unfortunately, almost everything is closed for these next two weeks.
I have four paintings that I want to show in the mostra, and early tomorrow morning we'll drop them off in Bomarzo, hoping they'll take all four. The mostra will be in Attigliano on Saturday during their festa.
We eat cena at La Fossate, just pizzas, but mine feels like lead afterward. We walk up to the village, where entertainment is being offered and paid by the Comune, including a seven piece band and singer and a comedian/singer.
Dino helps Francesco and Mauro and Carlo bring benches from the ex-scuola, and we sit in back watching, although Lore and Alberto have offered to get us chairs to sit with them from their nearby house.
We watch the entertainment for a while and talk with the neighbors, then decide to leave. As we walk through the crowd, Pepe asks if we'll have something with him and I agree. We think we're going to his house, but he takes us into Ernesta's Tabbacchi. I have an iced tea and Dino eats an ice cream. All the while, we're talking about Pepe's asinos.
Pepe always talks with a voice of authority. He tells us that asinios (d0nkeys) are much more intelligent than horses. They are not quite as big as mules. Priscilla is eight years old and her son is Maggiolino. We're invited to meet them sometime this next week. I think I'd like to take photos of them and then paint them. Pepe thinks it's a good idea.
We walk home and greet Francesca, here with her family from Parma. She tells me that she wants to see my paintings and I respond that I'll be in a mostra on Saturday in Attigliano. I suppose I should invite people into the house to see them during the holidays, so after Saturday we will. Sounds as thought I should get a batch of cocomero granita ready...
August 10
Today feels like a Saturday, perhaps because it's the start of Ferragosto, or the traditional "iron days of summer". But the weather is more like April weather with cool overcast skies and rain here and there.
We have four paintings to hopefully exhibit at the Attigliano mostra, but no one is at the Arte e Benessere office in Bomarzo in the morning.
So we drive on to the tile yard, hoping we'll find someone to transport the floor tiles. No luck, but they'll be open tomorrow morning, so we tell Tani and Arshi, who can pick it up then.
From there we drive to Civitella d' Agliano, to our favorite panificcio for WWF bread, and then on to the house by way of Baschi. Paolo is at the house with a geometra and another man and although we think it's strange, Arshi and Tani stay with them as they walk around the house.
Paolo is very proud of the house, for some reason. Of course he was born and grew up there, but the change in the house is major. The men tell us that they like the house very much, and Dino tells the geometra, who approves of the work that has been done, that he's looking for another project, so if he knows of a stranieri who needs a project manager for a restoration, let him know.
About ten minutes later, Dino's phone rings, and it is the geometra. He has a house in Guardea and wants us to see it. We leave soon, as there is nothing much to do, and the massetto is drying on the Piano Terra, so we can't walk inside.
We drive to Guardea and outside the building looks plain. What a surprise we find inside! Gorgeous slowly sloping marbe stairs, and two plus floors of magnificent structure and wonderful furniture. This was obviously the home of very well to do people, left almost abandoned for about three years. In the last years of his life, a man lived in the house, but it obviously has been neglected and needs some TLC.
The house could be split into two apartments, four apartments, or left in tact as a two-story home. We'll have it on our site soon. This is a home with a lovely view right in the center of Guardea, a characteristic town, between Orvieto and Amelia.
The geometra owns the property, or owns it with his mother, who we meet later and are invited in to see their home next door. The woman takes us around her house and the property behind it...mamma mia how lovely! They have an ancient oak tree that must be two hundred years old, an expansive lawn and lovely view "all the way to Mount Sorate".
We've kept another couple waiting, so can't stay, and drive on to the next house, but make an appointment for tomorrow. The owner is a huge man with a tiny wife. We'll see them tomorrow.
One thing we know is that we have almost thirty-five really wonderful properties for sale, most of them on our site. We are not getting enough traffic to our site, so it is time that we offer a generous finders' fee for anyone who refers someone who later buys a property from us. Do give our properties page a look, and let us know if we can help you or your friends find wonderful properties in Central Italy.
After pranzo, I return to paint the little boy on the horse. Marco told me on Monday that the canvas was too rough to paint detail, so I should abandon it. Instead, I am able to work out the detail myself of the young boy and the older man, so want to take it to Marco on Monday and show him that the canvas is all right as it is.
I take my time, but as I recall his technique of applying different paint colors to represent skin color and tone and light and shadows on faces, I'm able to emulate his technique quite well. I'm rather amazed that both faces look real by the time I'm done for the day.
In between, we've taken four finished paintings to Attigliano to the mostra, and Dino is able to hang them in prime positions, visible right as people glance in the glass front window.
There will be a lot of traffic there this weekend, for this is the festa of Attigliano's patron saint, Lorenzo. We're sending friends to see the mostra, including Vincenza, who we meet on the street outside our house as we return home.
I tell her that next week we hope to purchase the cemetery plot next to her and we hug eachother and laugh. "Casa Eterna!" she exclaims. "Before we were dead tired. After we were just dead!"
We've had several bouts of rain today, just enough for droplets to hang from the iron pergola. Gee we love it. Now we think we'll not put anything at all above it. It's just too lovely. We never sit outside there, anyway, unless we have guests. Now I think we will, if only for us to gaze upon it.
We spend the rest of the evening at home by the T V, and Sofi and I turn in early. It's wonderful sleeping weather, and I'm happy that we won't have to sit outside the mostra in Attigliano this weekend. Joining this group has been a wonderful thing for me. It's one more place where my art can be seen.
Do I want to try to exhibit in San Francisco or Marin this November? I'm not sure, but it would help my resume to have one of those places added to my resume....I'm not sure of how to go about it, or how awkward it will be to transport canvases. But for now, I'm tired. So I'll think about it tomorrow...
August 11
This morning surely does not feel like summertime. With the air full of moisture and clouds obscuring the sun, it's no wonder Priscilla and Maggiolino, Pepe's donkeys, are howling, or whatever it is that they do when they open their mouths and let out sounds.
Someone is also weed-wacking, and that is so weird. With the ground soaking wet, whoever it is must look like Pigpen, the blades of grass blowing all over them...and sticking.
We travel to Guardea to look at another house. The locals like us for some reason, and feel better about listing their houses with us than with the many realtors who knock on their doors. It seems that wherever we go we are met with cordiality and enthusiasm and hopefulness. Now if only more of you would contact us to see properties that are not listed with local realtors...
As we enter the driveway we can see a grand peach tree, with no sign of the "peach blight" we seem to get on our tree each year. We use a biologic spray, but the peaches don't look as perfect as these. On this tree, each one is a painting. No wonder I like to paint peaches!
August 12
"Il Cristiano non va mai in ferie." (The Christian never takes a vacation") is what we're greeted with when we arrive at church and pick up today's written pamphlet for today's mass. The little chur