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To read the CURRENT month, go to ITALY JOURNAL
APRIL 2008
April 1
It's a lovely day, although cool. We expect a mild and sunny day. Dino drives to Tenaglie, followed by a worker from Tessiccini to polish the terrazzo floors.
Instead of working on the painting, Sofi and I take a drive to visit Marsiglia and Felice. Marsiglia has something wrong with her hands; they are swollen although she tells me they are better than they were yesterday. She is always sad these days, and although they have many visitors, she is at a loss regarding how to deal with her husband.
Felice does not recognize me until I give him a hug and show him Sofi. He always smiles, but these days he does not seem to focus on anything. But before Marsiglia has time to tell me the latest in her ongoing saga, their son Renzo arrives, and it's time for Sofi and I to return home. I am sad to leave them this way, but realize that for their whole family, there is more of this to come.
Dino arrives home and we leave with him, stopping at an Autogrill for a plate of pasta, before driving on to IKEA in the outskirts of Rome to pick up a sisal rug for the living room and two boxwood trees. "Trees at IKEA?" you say. Yes, two little healthy ones on sale for €13.99 each.
At home, Dino repots them and they now flank the front door. Because we have a covered pergola, they will fare well during the summer with the added shade. Usually things by the front door bake during summertime.
While Dino is out buying more connectors for the irrigation system, I pull the rug inside, open it and lay it down, moving the furniture myself. It's not really a difficult job, although Dino shows his amazement that I could do it by myself. I still have some life left in me after all...
April 2
Dino continues to work on the irrigation system, and Sofi and I spray the roses with our first of the season mixture of denatured alcohol (about a glass full), two or three squirts of dish soap and water, in a spray bottle.
This mixture is a perfect match for the little aphids and other "animali" that damage the roses. The mixture kills any of the cocoon-like mites that make the leaves stick together and eventually kill all the leaves.
If you read the journal, you'll know that I keep after the roses religiously (what a strange word to use here, but it is accurate) each spring, spraying a few times a week, especially after rains, when the critters seem to flourish. It's worth the work, for the roses remain healthy.
This year I will hope to remember to pay attention to the pruning experts, and do some mid-season pruning after the first bloom of repeat-flowering roses. This keeps the plants from becoming leggy.
While on the path spraying the Lady Hillingdons, I note that the plants are really robust. I really recommend this rose for anyone who wants a rose to grow against a wall. The flowers are good sized, pale yellow shaded to a darker yellow and quite beautiful.
The rose flowers all summer. The dark reddish-green leaves create a lovely contrast to the flowers. Look it up on our site under garden photos to see what they look like.
There is a hazy sky, but it seems warm. I make an attempt to plant a single unusual variety of hydrangea against the bay tree, but cannot move the sack of earth, so Dino will help me when he returns from Tenaglie.
I'm not in the mood to paint with our trip so close at hand, so work on last minute projects and put the paints away. Dino returns and plants the special hydrangea that we picked up last year that needs a home. It is planted next to the Bay tree on the terrace, and I'm hoping it will receive some shade.
We drive to Rome to pick up Don and Mary at Ciampino airport. This certainly is a civil little airport, and we're surmising the proposed Viterbo airport will be similar. Don bounds out the arrivals security door alone; and Mary follows lugging the cart and all their luggage.
We know that Mary uses the cart to help her navigate if she does not have her cane, but shortly Don rushes back and moves the luggage, while Mary and Sofi and I hug and wait for the men to bring the car around.
Before picking them up, we looked around a huge nursery just across from the airport. More than that, we turned the car around right at the entrance to the original Appia Nuova (Appian Way), and it looks delightful. Perhaps if we take them back to the airport in a few weeks we'll stop afterward with Sofi and take a walk.
My upper back and shoulders are in a lot of pain again. Earlier, we applied a couple of douses of Biofreeze, and that helped; I also returned to the course of pills for the back pain, to be taken for ten days. Is this to be a common recurrence? We hope not.
Dino asked if I thought the pain was caused by moving the new rug into the living room, and I told him I thought not. I don't think it was that heavy, but perhaps that's all it took to return me to the ranks of the pained.
Back in Tenaglie, Maria walks up the steps with hugs for her neighbors, and I translate a few phrases for Mary. While Dino helps Don start up his "Ferrari" (a red cinque-cento with right hand drive, brought from England), I cut a few tulips and dogwood out of Kate and Merritt's garden for them. Fresh flowers and plants work wonders in a house that has been closed up for months.
With a red sunset in the sky, they'll have a lovely view tonight, and Don will undoubtedly make a big fire in the fireplace to warm them after their long trip. We'll see them tomorrow. It's always a joy to know they are not far away.
April 3
Lorenzo has reworked Candace and Frank's poles for their terrace, so Dino will pick them up first thing from Lorenzo and take them to Orvieto. I'm hoping he'll be home to spend some time in the garden with me, but he also has to check on the paving project, which has stalled. Tani is having trouble locating the correct pavers.
With a profusion of birds chirping in diverse cadences, Sofi and I are anxious to return outside. I fix some coffee and sit outside with the Provence maps and see if I can match some towns to the calendar I've done that includes markets on different days of the week.
We love the markets, and Sofi will enjoy the people and the different smells of the fresh herbs and fruits and vegetables, as well as all the exercise she'll get with our many walks.
I note that our friend, Virginia, has been chosen as a possible delegate from Democrats Abroad. She's a great woman and very active with the Rome group. Good for her! I'm sure she'll "do the right thing" in Denver, for by now Hillary's candidacy looks remote and she's an Obama fan.
Right now, Italian campaign signs are being hung in every town and village, and even Mugnano has space for twenty of them. I think the Italians have it right. Political posters here are not a blight on the landscape; they're hung together in specific areas of the towns, and if Italy can call itself civilized, this is a good example.
We spend a lot of the day in the garden, and Dino performes a major surgery on the front loquat tree. I imagined that it should be no larger than the plum tree next to it, so by the time he is through, it is. There is plenty of light passing through it, and more important, the Fantin Latour rose in a big pot on the front corner of the house will receive more sun.
I ask Dino to use the special vacuum cleaner for the yard, and he hates it. It's heavy and awkward. But then, the dirt from the spent blossoms on the loquat tree makes a real mess. Let's see if he goes along with me. The new gravel in the middle garden looks so pristine that the gravel on the front terrace stands out like a sore thumb. Isn't that a great phrase?
Don and Mary invite us for cena to thank us for yesterday, so we meet them at I Gelsi in Alviano, and it's a great place. Strangely, this restaurant specializes in fish, although it's in landlocked Umbria. Go figure. We all eat pizza tonight, and they make some of the best pizza around.
We're back early and Dino waters plants on the front terrace, then we turn in. With two days to go before our trip, we've lots of little projects to finish, but nothing major to do.
April 4
I have a pedicure appointment and a hair appointment today, and in between I'll help Dino with the garden chores. It's cold this morning, with sun on the far horizon but a stubborn blanket of grey, underlain with more clouds, telling us it looks doubtful that we'll have sun today.
Sun does break through, but there's no time for the garden before Dino takes me to Giusy for a pedicure. It's always a joy to see her.
Mid-afternoon, Pietro picks me up and we drive to Nick's in Narni, where we're both pampered and transformed. Back in Mugnano, Helga has been working on our cena, and after we return home, Dino and Sofi and I drive down to Pietro's.
Cena begins with a broth and narrow ribbons of an omelet with herbs, followed by pieces of reindeer that have been cooked slowly and served with boiled vegetables and potatoes and a wonderful sauce. The meat was frozen in Norway and brought by them on the last plane trip.
We're home to see stars in the sky, and it's almost time to leave...
April 5
The day is filled with projects in the garden and the house, for tomorrow we leave for Provence and our new friends arrive for two weeks.
The roses are sprayed and everything is fed. I can see buds on the Paul Lede roses and the Lady Hillingdons on the path are already in flower. Dino uses the blower and the place is ready for inspection...
April 6
We hope to leave at 6 A M, but it's 6:30 when we drive out of the gate. Taking Yan's instructions, after driving up the coast of Italy, we take the slow route from the border of Italy to Nice, and it's lovely, but curvy and long, and we're ready to get settled.
We arrive in Cotignac and love the house, with its four floors facing the plaza next to city hall. Before we settle in, the boulangerie is open around the corner, and we buy a small citron tarte and split it after we demolish a round of Brie with a little baguette also purchased at the boulangerie. Ah, the bread! Of course, we also conume a bottle of a local "rose" which is quite good.
The house was built in 1650 and we love its quirkiness, although my fear of falling downstairs has me cringing and hanging onto the walls while navigating between floors. It's a dream of a house, and this house exchanging is such a good idea. Although we live at the edge of a village, we are really in the country, and here we're in the very midst of a town. The views from the house - of the square, the enormous plane tree and the cliff behind - are quite spectacular.
We return to the boulangerie for croissants, just in case, but instead of looking for a bar in town we drive out to begin our jaunt across Provence to Bonnieux, where my list tells me there is a market today.
The drive takes forever, on little back roads, and once we arrive in Bonnieux we are told there are no markets in Bonnieux any more. It was written that this is a town of potters, but can only find one, so we drive on to Roussillon.
Just outside the town is a museum explaining the natural colors developed from the earth. We do not take the tour, but inside the bookstore find a wealth of information, including books of the region, and we pick up one that includes some wonderful photos.
Once in Roussillon we realize this is a tourist mecca, but take a walk just the same. On our right is a store that sells the natural pigments of the region, and I am so inspired that we pick up several containers of a dark French blue that is almost cobalt, a bright yellow and a few ochres.
I recall Marco showing us some of these colors in the same powdery form at his bottega months ago. We'll bring them to him for a show and tell, but now we walk to the top of the town, and take in the view.
There are too many tourists here, and we are tired, but drive on to find the vivai between Roussillon and Gorde, where we are told we can find the simple pots we're looking for.
The vivai is a wonder, a marvel of color and selection. It must be one of the largest in Provence. We pick up a little Echeveria plant, but leave wanting to return to Cotignac. We've had enough "eye candy" for one day.
We see that there is a way to take highways for most of the trip, so take the A7 and the A8 and return to Cotignac. All the stores are closed, for it is Monday, and we drive on to Barjols to find a little store for eggs and cheese and a leek or so. The boulangerie is closed, so we pick up a package of bread that needs to be finished in the oven, and eat that with another bottle of rose, some cheese, and later an omelette.
Dino channel surfs with the TV, but we're tired, and turn in, looking forward to staying in town for Cotignac's Tuesday market. Other than Wednesday and Sunday, we'll stay nearby on this trip, and hang out.
I have an idea for a painting, and it is a simple one, so we'll pick up a couple of brushes and paints and canvas in San Remy tomorrow and I'll work in Joan's studio on the ground floor, with windows facing the street. It's a dream of a vacation, and I'm inspired. Dino and Sofi are inspired, I'm not sure about what, but they love the town and Sofi loves the trip. She scampers around like a puppy.
April 8
It's market day in Cotignac, and although the weather is dreary and overcast, we're excited to visit our first market this year.
Dino and Sofi head for the boulangerie, while I put on the coffee. Oh, those boring croissants, again. They are just divine; don't quite know how else to describe them...flaky and buttery and light as air.
The market is a good one, even though the weather is not. It's cold and at times drizzly, but dry enough that we pick up the most beautiful beets I can recall, more beautifully presented vegetables of all kinds, olives (of course), chevre and morbier cheese (we have not eaten this type of cheese since our Mill Valley days, and love it), as well as a roast chicken.
Dino and Sofi wait outside while I enter SPAR, the local market, and its offerings are as fine as that in the outdoor market: I pick up a container of thinly-sliced cucumber in a kind of sour cream and notice that in the meat section that there are very beautifully and not so expensive cuts of meats and chicken.
It is a delight to shop here. On the way back, we shop at our favorite boulangerie and pick up another citron tarte and another baguette, this time a multi-grain.
Back at "home", it remains cold and dreary. While opening the bags of groceries, everything looks so beautiful that I just have to show it to you...
Our plan is to hang out for at least half of the trip, and the weather remains overcast. While walking around town earlier, we entered an antique shop and saw a young man fixing the hands on a clock. I remember one of the first things I learned in high school French: "Quelle h'eur e 'til?" I ask the man.
"Ten minutes of eleven..." he responds in perfect English. Why, I NEVER! We laugh and he introduces himself as Simon. Peter, his partner and owner of another antique shop nearby, stops in, just as an English woman comes in and stares at two quite good paintings of fruit on branches, against a side wall.
She sees me look at them and just has to have them. After a little wrangling, they are hers. We leave in the midst of the confusion of payment, and when we walk by again, they motion to us that they did indeed sell them.
"We must have brought you luck!" we tell them and they answer, "Come back tomorrow!" We're sure we'll see them again while we're here. Earlier, Simon confirmed that the type of ceramics we're looking for is probably at Biot on the coast. Perhaps that's as good a reason as any to make a day trip there. That is, if the weather turns sunny.
When Dino takes Sofi out for a little walk, he runs into two women who are friends of Joan and Yan's, the couple who own this house. He finds out that on Friday evening there's an art opening in Cotignac; we're invited. The tempo is picking up...
April 9
It's San Remy market day, but we're visiting Salernes and Aups instead. They're nearby, and since the overcast weather continues, we decide to learn more about this region, the Haute (Upper) Var.
We find a mirror of Joan's ceramic dish at Pierre Basset in Salernes, then drive on to Aups and take a walk around. While driving the back roads, we agree that we'd like to have a rock or two for our newly reworked garden in the Provencal white and orange-ochre.
I begin to laugh, thinking about Lucille Ball and the movie, "The Long, Long Trailer", where she collects big rocks until Desi almost loses the trailer on a mountainside as the load shifts. It's still funny thinking about it. Well, we're only thinking about two..."
April 10
Under an overcast sky, we drive to the coast, to Biot and then have pranzo at Antibes, for the moule (mussels) we have missed.
The coast is a disappointment, although Biot is somewhat charming. Yes, the pots I thought would be here are here, but the finish is too "practiced", and some of the other pots I thought we'd find are not here. That's all right with us.
After pranzo we drive North to Grasse, but although it has some interesting architecture, it has too much ugly architecture and is too touristy for our taste. Instead, we find a huge building supply store and Dino buys a new Gardena controller for one of our irrigation systems.
Meanwhile, in San Francisco, there has been a lot of hooting and hollering. In case you did not read about it, here is an interesting report:
http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/041008J.shtml
We drive back on the A-8, which is very good way to travel through Southern France, and are back in Cotignac before 6 P M. We meet Zoe, a neighbor of Yan and Joan's, who is having a photo opening at a gallery around the corner tomorrow night, and we will surely attend.
We wish her a "in bocca al lupo" (in the mouth of the wolf, for Italians are a suspicious lot, and do not say, "Good luck!"). The proper response is, "Crepi lupo!" (and that the wolf dies.) Zoe tells us that the proper French saying for "good luck" is "Merde!" (poop).
Zoe explains that during the 19th century, people would ride their horse-drawn carriages to the theatre, and if there was a lot of poop out front, the performance would be a good one. The proper response is silence...
Once at home, I make a Provencal tarte with tomatoes and cheese and fresh parsley and olives and herbes de Provence and sliced radishes thrown in for good measure under grated cheese we purchased yesterday at an outdoor market. The crust is one rolled up in a package in the Casino market in the town.
It comes out remarkably well, and we eat it for cena, along with a half bottle of rose wine. We are really getting to like rose, for it is a drinkable wine that does not give me a headache, only a slight buzz. So now that rose is an "in" thing, we're back in style...
We love this house and all its quirkiness and talk about what kind of people we'd like to exchange houses with in the future. Mature people with an artistic sensibility, that about does it. So young couples with children are not ideal, for them or for us.
We end the evening early, for tomorrow we have a long drive to Carpetras, a famous market that we think may be a French counterpart to Arezzo in Italy. The difference here is that Carpentras has an award winning outdoor food market, and we look forward to all of it!
April 11
Well, Roy drove for 400km today, and that's more than we think makes sense for one day. So for most of the remaining days he'll drive much less.
For most of the day it's been overcast, but we don't really care. On the way to Carpentras we stop at Noves, a favorite art supply store is there, and meet a woman named Lois who hand-makes little aprons for children. Of course we picked them up for our granddaughters' birthday in June, and Lois kindly wrote a little note to each of them.
Lois also helped me with paints (mine are at home with the rest of my art supplies) and gave me some information on mixing the precious paint powders fromRoussillon with linseed oil.
"It's like making bread", she tells us, putting a drop of the linseed oil in the center and surrounding it with the colored grains, then using a paint spatula to mix it together bit by bit until it is of the right consistency. This takes time, but the colors are really worth it.
We left this morning before 8 A M, but don't arrive in Carpentras until almost 11:30. It remains overcast and even a little drippy, so dear Sofi waits in the car while we meander around the town.
Most of the purveyors have packed up, for the weather is not good, but we have a taste of it. Although it's a huge market, and the produce is spectacular, we don't feel a need to return next Friday. Instead, we'll explore places closer to Cotignac, and perhaps we'll even hang around town. I'd love to get some painting in.
We drive around looking for a place to eat, and Dino pulls into a shopping complex, thinking we can find something here. We find a huge store called Alinea, and it's a French type of IKEA. The difference is that it has a gourmet café.
I hold my breath while Dino orders steak tartare, but he somehow survives the rare meat and the uncooked egg. He loves it, so although he feels a little queasy later in the day, he's fine.
Alinea has about twenty stores, and we pick up a catalogue. We don't need anything, but are still looking for the correct beads to hang in front of the front door. The longer we wait, the more I like the ones we have.
Back in Cotignac, we attend a photography opening at a local gallery, and speak with Zoe and Kerry, the two photographers. Kerry is a human rights attorney, on her way back to Africa, and one of the photographs is of a young girl, painfully looking at the camera with more than a little pain, mixed with hope, in her eyes.
Kerry asked her what her dream was, and she answered "A sewing machine". So without being asked, we give her a donation toward the sewing machine, and Kerry will try to find her. I do think that it is a woman's responsibility to help other women in the third world improve their lives. Whether you agree with me or not, that's up to you. But if you do agree, please do SOMETHING to further that cause. Thank you.
We walk around Cotignac for a little while; then return "home" to a bowl of soup and fresh baguette, as well as a glass of rose. I have not had a headache since arriving here, so am a convert to rose wine.
April 12
It looks as though it will be a good day with clear skies, and after coffee and croissants from our favorite boulangerie around the corner, we drive to Barjols for their market. The market is pretty small, consisting of flowers and vegetables. I pick up two white turnips, just because they are beautiful, and will cut them up, boil them till they're ready, then mash them with butter and blue cheese. The taste of turnips is pretty sour, but this idea may save them.
Dino feels fine, with no after-effects from yesterday's steak tartare. Strangely, here steak tartare is sold at most local markets in a sealed package, so who knows how fresh it is! We look for the artisan galleries in town, shops that emerged after the town abandoned its leather tanning businesses years ago. We drive to the section of town where they are, but everyone seems closed.
On the way back we see a sign for an antique collective, so walk around and buy a linen dress that appears to be handmade and hand embroidered. Since it's second-hand, we pick it up for €30 and it is a perfect fit. In cases like these, I wonder if the woman who owned this first died, or if she made it herself...What IS the story behind the dress?
We drive to Pierre Basset outside Salernes, for Joan tells us she picked up a number of plates there, but we don't like any of them. They probably change their inventory seasonally, and we're out of luck for this period. We'll probably stick with the ones we have, unless we find treasures at tomorrow's brocante (antique) market in Il Sur-le-Sourge.
We hang out at home for most of the day, and I even paint; It's a painting of a tiny woman holding Sofi on a long leash in one hand and a big sunflower in the other. I'm not convinced it's good enough, but may work on it again another day. It's not my style; almost too "carina". It appears that either the weather or the location have dulled my interest in painting on this trip.
I meant to mention the bauxite again. The colors have me wanting to return to this area instead of the San Remy area, for our next house-swap. I just love the color of the earth.
I've worked on the powders to turn them into paints, and the result is excellent. I'm even able to make an acceptable green out of a bright blue and a bright yellow. Somehow I'm not inspired to paint here. I'll probably wait until we return home.
We take a long nap, for this is a lazy vacation, without a schedule packed from end to end.
April 13
We're up early on our way to Il Sur-le-Sourge, the wonderful Sunday market. It is indeed wonderful, an eye-candy town, with more than a hundred vendors. It's a long drive from Cotignac, so we take the A-7 back, and are surprised how quickly we return to the town we love.
The soup in the frigo has held up surprisingly well, especially with dollops of cr¸me fraiche, and it's a good thing. I don't feel like cooking, although I'm inspired to cook here. Am I inspired to paint? No. Perhaps that's because this is a town house, and not a house with a garden.
The fruits and vegetables are worth painting, however, although I don't feel much like painting. I feel more like sleeping, especially in this colder weather. I sound like a real drag. Somehow Dino remains content, watching movies on satellite-tv.
April 14
Dino is set on stopping by the side of the road and picking up a big stone or two in that amazing ochre color, a color that is more rust than ochre. The soil here is an almost unreal color, and the earth looks really difficult to plant in.
We'd like one or two stones to put in our garden as a memento of this Provence that we have fallen in love with. No, we don't want to live here. But we do love to visit; we love the difference from our lives in Italy.
We drive to Barjols for their Monday market, and it is a long drive to the coast, but their market has been changed to...Tuesday. So we eat mussels and scallops at an outside restaurant and drive around the lovely seaside town, imagining the lives of the people who live inside the grand estates facing the ocean.
Back at home we watch an old movie...The Blue Dahlia, with Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake, and what a terrible directing job! We're sticking around tomorrow morning, so it's fine to stay up late.
April 15
We stick around for the excellent Tuesday market in Cotignac...
Back at home I fix dinner and then Sofi and I turn in, while Dino watches T V. Tomorrow will be a long day, with a drive to the Wednesday San Remy market. We aren't looking for anything, for after looking at market after market, our favorite treasures were purchased right here in Cotignac at Marguerite's, and at low prices.
Earlier today we ran into Pam with her very sweet dog, and we all agreed that Cotignac has the best small town market (Tuesday mornings) and the most charm of any spot in Provence.
That's quite a statement, but once you've spent any time in Cotignac, you'll understand why. The town is just the right size (about 1,000) people, with shops, bars, markets, restaurants and plenty of shops, but not the urban sprawl that many towns now have.
Tomorrow night we'll meet Madeline and Tony in Salernes for Dinner. They're here with the Mediterranean Garden Society. Although we're invited for lunch on Friday, we've decided not to attend any of their events because of Sofi. She's more important to us than other gardeners, and every day we are thankful for her. She is a joy to be around.
April 16
I go to bed feeling tired with the beginning of a flu, and wake up tired, too. But we don't want to miss the San Remy market, so I sleep on the way, and although we don't arrive until mid-morning, Dino has no fear of finding a parking place. He always finds a good one.
We've agreed that we'll eat at the Vietnamese restaurant, which our recollections tell us is quite good. Who knows if we'll buy anything...anything at all...
I'm tired from last night's bout of the flu, so after walking around for a couple of hours, we agree to forego the Vietnamese pranzo and drive to nearby Eygalieres for a light pranzo. We love the town, but today is not the day for exploring, sadly. Instead, we drive back early afternoon and spent the rest of the day doing...nothing.
Sofi seems to have eaten something that did not agree with her either, for she is sick at night; so badly that we hear loud groans from inside her little body that sound like phantoms as she gets sick...at least several times. Finally, she's able to sleep.
April 17
Sofi seems better this morning, but later in the day her symptoms return. We attempt to drive out for an excursion, but she leaves evidence that she's still sick, so we return to the house and I make a beet and cr¸me fraiche soup with fresh dill for pranzo that is really tops, while Sofi rests.
The beets here are sold cooked in packages, and the taste is every bit as good as the fresh ones I cooked last week. These are easier to puree cold with cr¸me fraiche, and then heat, and the consistency is much better.
Dino also wants a steak sandwich, so why not. I'm not up for eating much of the steak, but he's happy. Afterward, we think we're all feeling better, so drive out to Le Thoronet, toward Draguignan and then to Lourdes. Le Thoronet is charming, and we stop for tea; then drive around the town.
We've been told to visit the Abbey of Thoronet, so stop there and walk around. It's an amazing place, but the batteries in our new camera won't hold a charge, so you'll have to take our word for it. While in the main church, a woman with a group stands by herself up at the front and chants, and the sound of her voice reverberates around the room as though she's ringing a gong. We have to stop and stand there, silently watching until she finishes.
The rest of the Abbey is amazing, but the strangest coincidence happens next door, where the Sisters of Bethlehem Community have a shop selling religious items. Inside are sold statues of wood and also of a polymer. A number of years ago we purchased a similar large statue for our garden just north of Umbertide from an abbey that purchased them from...here! We don't find the same statue, but a kind nun smiles and asks us if we'd like to purchase another. I thank her and tell her that having one is "special"; two would be just "good".
We bid her goodbye and drive on to Lorgues, where we walk around and are thrilled by the huge plane trees and love the town until Sofi gets sick on the sidewalk and I am worried enough that I want to take her to the nearest vet.
What to do? We have seen vet signs in every town we've visited, but now don't see any. So I ask Dino to stop at a pharmacy, and we're given directions to the nearest vet from him. The vet is very kind and gives Sofi a little injection and tells us she'll be fine tomorrow. He checks her out and thinks we should not worry. On the way home she sleeps in my nap, then goes right to bed.
We do want to return to Lorgues; its plane trees alone are enough to make me weak in the knees. Not this trip; we think visiting here is better in September, at least for the weather.
We're too involved in our garden in May, and then June is just too late to leave it at all. We're prisoners to our garden; but then, it's the joy we receive from the garden, and from having visitors who love it as we do during the warm months, that keeps us happy at home.
I'm not feeling all that well, so jump into bed with Sofi in her bed just next to me and read an historical novel called Courtesan that keeps me interested while Dino returns to watching movies on the large screen T V. Hopefully tomorrow we'll all be well enough to try another market or two.
April 18
Still not feeling better, I stay in bed all day, while Roy and Sofi take little jaunts outside the house. Sofi is a little better, but not completely. The skies are dreary, and rain arrives in the afternoon. It's a good day to finish the book and I do. Vacations are for resting and reading, too, so we have that part of it "down pat". What does "down pat" mean, anyway?
April 19
On this last day before we leave Provence, we decide to drive off to what the English call a "car boot sale", in
Le Cannet des Maures, and with the Provencal ombre colored clay soil underfoot, sink in as we romp through muddy paths to reach...a gypsy paradise. There are about thirty "vendors" here, selling trinkets that represent memories for them, perhaps better forgotten. For the first time in memory, we leave with...nothing, other than mud on our shoes.
With a cleanup at the house, we stop at the local SPAR to pick up the last of the French treats that naturally include Brie and a baguette. After turning in early with books, we nod off to dreams of Dino's birthday and a trip home tomorrow.
April 20
Yes, Dino turns...today, and he's going to spend it doing what he loves best: driving and eating. The car is packed, with Sofi regally perched on her wicker bed high up on the back seat. But first, one more look at my favorite - the plane trees in the main square of Cotignac.
We leave Cotignac around 8 A M, and arrive at Monterosso al Mare just after 2PM. We're no longer gauging speeds and distances anymore, but we believe we have "made good time", an expression used far too often in this crazy "speed-em-up" world. We believe that this is the easiest of the five villages to drive to.
In characteristic Dino style, we see cars parked along the road on the way into the town, and although the guidebooks tell us to park here, he will have none of it. Parking karma is something he has plenty of, as evidenced by what happens next in the only parking garage.
We drive up to the entrance, and the attendant looks out and tells him they are "pieno" (full). Dino stares at him and raises his shoulders as only Italians know how to do, and the young man responds, "Well, there is space for ONE car..."
I can only shake my head in disbelief. Dino becomes a Cheshire cat for a moment or two, then maneuvers his way around to the "spot", which magically opens up as two couples walk inside the lot to leave.
We walk down toward the water, and at the only full restaurant right at the edge of the beach, lines form outside. By this time it is late for even a late pranzo. Dino walks up to the waiter and is told to wait. Sofi and I take a walk, and when we return, we find Dino sitting at a corner table outside under the awning, as if he is Don for a Day.
Mussels and swordfish are what we want, and they are excellent. The wine from the region around Cinque Terre is known to be quite good, and we drink a bottle of white, which is quite dry and a perfect accompaniment to the fish.
Sofi sits by my side and eats a strand or two of spaghetti and some of my swordfish, as well as her own food. She's quite svelte these days, so a little extra food now and then are fine.
We walk around town, but there are SO MANY PEOPLE, and it is only April. So this is a place to skip in the height of summer, but we'd love to see more of it. We begin our walk up the hill to the parking garage, and Dino turns around and asks me, "Isn't that your old boss?"
I turn around and Dino calls out to a group hiking down into the village, "Bob? Bob Riddell?" So it's been almost twenty-five years since we've seen each other. He hired me the year Allen & Dorward, a San Francisco Ad Agency, became MOJO, and was my boss. This prince of a man remains one of the all time great bosses of the world; and even that is an understatement.
The Riddell family - Dad, Mom and their two adult offspring are on a Walking Tour throughout Northern Italy.
I'm not surprised that Bob's still at Hoffman Lewis Advertising in San Francisco, even if he's been there for twenty years. Yes, Bob Hoffman is still there, as are many of the others, who left after the chaotic merger with Chiat/Day and joined other Allen & Dorward regulars at Hoffman Lewis.
Bob looks at me, after I tell them that we live in Italy now, and responds, "I'm jealous!" to which I can only respond, "Don't be jealous...move here yourself!"
This is as good a time as any for me to mention my old refrain, "Find your passion; dream your dream; then don't be afraid to dare to just do it...Be bold enough to take that chance and to live your dream...You have nothing to lose."
Those of you who know me and/or have worked with me know full well that that was always the case for me. Yes, I'm a dreamer; I have always been a dreamer. I was never the best boss, but I surely knew how to dream, how to choose to do things a little differently than anyone else and hopefully how to inspire others to follow their passion.
I'm wondering now how many of those people I worked with so many years ago have followed their dream. If you're one of them, I'd love to hear from you. I'd even love to hear from you if you have not followed your dream, but wish you had. Life is just too short.
If you're still not convinced that it's time to move on, I'd like to quote a real estate sign posted on Union Street in San Francisco years ago..."If you think this is not a good time to buy a house, wait until next year."
We purchased our property here in 1997, when a dollar cost 60 Italian cents. Now a Euro costs costs $1.60....and it's just ten years later. Luckily, we paid cash for our house. That is the good news. The bad news is that we live on dollars. Somehow, we're managing to survive; what's more important is that we do have peace of mind.
A few days ago, Dino received an email greeting from a great friend in Mill Valley, who shared that her health insurance is more than $1,000 a month for single coverage. We find that shocking, especially since we pay less than €200 each a year for full coverage, and have no complaints about the Italian medical system. For added protection, we have a major medical policy, good world-wide, for another €500 or so a year. So if we need emergency surgery, we can choose from any private hospital. We think we're on the right track.
Back to our trip...
We drive down the coast to Montalto di Castro and inward past Viterbo toward home. It's not quite dark and there is a full moon, so we get out of the car and can't wait to walk across the terrace to the garden to see what has happened in our absence.
Everything is beautiful! The wisteria has grown FEET! In two weeks! There are no bugs on the roses, and every rose is ready to burst. The Lady Hillingdons on the front path sport a profusion of yellow blooms, with hundreds more ready to flower.
Under the moonlight, we drink in the smells and the sounds and embrace each other, so happy to be home. No matter what goes on in the world around us, this little spot of earth is paradise to us.
It's a joy to climb into bed and dream about waking up to the birds tomorrow...
April 21
It's an overcast day, but here and there the sun tries to come out. Sofi and I walk around the property while Dino drives off to Guardea and Tenaglie. He's back by noon.
After a quick pranzo, Dino drops me off at Marco's, where I begin a new painting and also show him the pigments we purchased in Roussillon, France. I am disappointed. I thought he'd be excited to see them. Instead, he tells me how difficult it is to mix them, but if I want to experiment at home, that's fine with him. What?
He shows me a book that indicates the different properties of the different colors of pigments, and what I'll have to do is so complicated that we agree that I'll mix them with acrylics instead of oils (he'll show me how) and that will be easier to do. The colors are so vibrant that I'm truly disappointed. But there's not time to dally, for I'm going to work on a new subject, a female warrior-type in flowing layers of fabric as her gown.
Dino picks me up and we drive to Pietro's to meet two Norwegian friends and have a brindisi (toast) with spumante. They are a very interesting couple, and we hope to see them again. After a short while, it's home to walk through the garden and plan for tomorrow.
April 22
On this, the anniversary of my dear father's death, I think of him, and it is fitting that Dino chooses to spend any free time today in the garden. My father died on the first Earth Day, but my only recollection of him outdoors, other than on the boat, was on the walks I took with him as a young girl.
He was enamored with rock and stone, and was able to cite volumes of geological data, explaining about strata and types of rock to me as we walked along a path. Many years later, while Dino drove him from Los Angeles to San Francisco after he visited with relatives, he voiced obvious amazement at the desert around them.
"What an upheaval must have been created to cause this!" he exclaimed, and Dino was at a loss to reply. A year or so later, on a different visit, we took him to Yosemite, where he was given a lifetime membership in the U S Park System.
We happened to arrive in Yosemite Valley just after a major earthquake struck in nearby Coalinga, and as we rounded a bend, we were stopped by a forest ranger with a walkie-talkie to his lips, staring up at the cliff above us.
"When I say, GO!, I wouldn't hesitate to drive on quickly, if I were you..." he cautioned, to which my father hollered with laughter; Dino and I sat bare-knuckled in the front seat holding our collective breaths.
Pietro has invited us for cena, and we spend the evening with him, eating special Norwegian treats, mostly fish. His house is really lovely, and he takes care with each space he creates. The house has never looked so beautiful.
We say good night, and Dino reminds him that in the morning he'll return with Silvano to work on electrical problems and to hang up kitchen lights.
April 23
Dino leaves the house early, under a foggy sky, and Sofi and I begin to work on the garden. But I'm deterred by the painting, so spend a few hours working on the folds of the woman's cloak, until I need to adjust my eyes. It's time to stop and work outside, especially since there is now plenty of sun.
Beginning with the path, I spray all of our roses (more than fifty of them) clipping off any spent blossoms. The path is so full of flowers that I just have to share them with you...
Dino comes home to tell me that our festa will be a week early. Since there has been little activity initiated by this year's festarolo committee, perhaps they're setting the stage to make it easier for any future committees. We hope so.
Dino just can't get enough practice cutting away at the big caki tree on the terrace, so he takes out the big ladder this afternoon and I "foot" it. Afterward, he burns the cuttings as well as some old raffia containers for the big glass jeroboams. Well, they're probably not jeroboams, but are beautifully crafted jars, and Dino washes our supply out (we have about eight) and places most of them in the cave where we have our holiday presepio. They look wonderful.
While we're at it, we clean the loggia out and put up the blue and white striped fabric and hang some more baskets. We're ready for the summer!
Tomorrow I'll feed and spray the roses, and we'll continue work on the garden. But I'm hoping to spend a couple of hours painting, as I'm working on the part I like best...the long and flowing cloak.
Dino continues to work on the middle garden, pulling out the row and a half of box and moving the healthy box to other spots in the garden. Lavender will replace this box on the lower side.
We pick up Don and Mary in Tenaglie and take them to Ciampino Airport outside Rome. It's always a pleasure to be with them, but we do wish we could see them more.
In the back seat between us, Sofi leans her little head on Mary's knee. Mary is the only person she allows to stroke her big ears, and she lies there, content, while we gab away.
We notice the really lovely Rosa Banksia Lutea espalied against the front wall of Don's property; it is in full flower. We recall the memory of a profusion of tiny yellow roses planted years and years ago in the alcove between our house and the Janigian's in Mill Valley, California. These are the same roses, and we have the white variety now, growing over the arch leading to our far property and San Rocco.
Before entering the airport, Dino takes a detour of about 50 meters and takes us to...the Appian Way. We're able to drive upon this ancient road, but it is so rocky that we turn around almost immediately; sometime soon we'll return to walk here when we're taking a trip to Rome by car.
After leaving them off, we return to the nearby vivai and pick up a dozen lavender and six lobelia. Lobelia needs to be planted in early spring, so that by summer time, it's cascade of blue flowers will fall over our tufa walls in dramatic fashion. Dino plants them in the front of the small planter in front of the loggia.
We're expecting a shower or two, but lots of sun in the next two weeks. It's more fun to work in the garden now, but I'd like to put in a little more time painting. So that's just what I do, until we've lost most of the sun.
April 24
Dino wants to attend the prova today of the Palio in Bomarzo, but I'm not really interested. I'd rather paint. He drives up to the town, but we've just had a rain shower and I don't want to stand around in the mud.
He returns not long after, while I'm painting away, to tell me there will be no prova. We don't know how they determine which horses will ride; perhaps we'll find out tomorrow.
We're having friends come by for cena after the race, so Dino drives off to pick up groceries. I continue to paint, and my latest painting is taking on a more well-developed form. It's a joy to paint, especially since I don't spend more than a couple of hours a couple of times a week painting, other than the Monday sessions.
This latest rain has left a profusion of grandine (hail) around the garden, but there is nothing damaged. Tomorrow I'll hopefully spray the roses. After a rain it is important to renew the spraying of roses, for the soap and denatured alcohol and water bath is washed off with rain.
April 25
Today is Liberation Day in Italy, commemorating the accord signed in Milan to end the Second World War. It's a day to be spent with family and friends, and the roads are full of people. It's not a good day to take any sort of drive.
With guests here after the Palio, Dino plants the lavender and straightens up the garden, while I fix coleslaw and a lemon torte and a borlotti bean dip.
After a quick pranzo, we return to last minute touches, then Annika and Torbjorn arrive and it's time to leave. Sofi stays at home to guard the house, for she is afraid of drum sounds, and there will be plenty today.
The weather looks promising, and we drive off to Bomarzo. Dino parks the car on the side of the road leading back to Mugnano, for we know there will be a lot of traffic after the Palio ends.
We walk up the hill, and our timing is good. By the time the procession begins, with five contradas represented, each with their own drummers and dressed in their contrada colors. Many, many people are in costume, and in addition to the contradas, there are people dressed as famous figures in Bomarzo history; of course the Orsinis are well represented, and some of the costumes are spectacular.
We decide to watch the procession near the bend in the road at the top of the hill, and encounter Anna Farina and Carla, watching from Carla's sister's house, right on the road facing South.
We introduce Annika and Torbjorn to them, and when they hear that these Swedes have purchased the "white house" in the valley, Anna can't wait to tell them that her great grandmother lived there, with animals living with them on the first floor...
I hold my nose and they laugh, and then Anna tells us the names of the women in her family. Olga is one, and the others I can't recall...I'll try to ask her again. These neighbors love to tell stories about Mugnano, and we love to hear them. These days, we're able to understand a few of them, which makes life more interesting.
After most of the procession has passed, we walk with the rest of the group between two different contradas. This way, we're able to take our seats and watch the end of the procession in the stadium.
Our seats are amazing; Torbjorn with his camera and long lens is able to sit front and center just as the horses and their riders will charge forward facing him. The rest of us are seated around him. Pietro and Nora found us before the start of the procession, and Tia and Bruce arrive while we're seated.
The procession finished, flag wavers give us an exhibition, and although the sun shone most of the day, we see clouds forming toward Mugnano, and hope the rain will hold until after the race.
The usual excitement builds right in front of us, as the four horses and riders line up one by one in the order in which they were chosen. The fifth horse and rider hold back until the preceding four are lined up correctly. This takes some doing. Then the fifth starts its charge, and as it reaches the others the designated gun explodes and the rope drops.
One rider falls off halfway across the track, but his horse continues to finish the race. The rider is able to get off the track by himself, but has some minor injuries. We are sorry, for he is wearing the colors of the contrada of the Borgo as well as the colors of Mugnano.
Dentro wins the Palio; Dentro is the location inside the borgo, which includes Duccio and Giovanna's house. But no one tarries, for the skies are very dark and as we leave the rain begins. We're able to reach the car before the downpour, but now we won't eat outside. Puortroppo.
Roy forgot his camera today, but our friend Torbjorn has a sophisticated digital camera with a telephoto zoom lens and get's some amazing shots - which he has given to us on a CD. So thanks to Torbjorn for the following photos recapping this festive day!
The evening ends as we go to bed to the twinkling of rain on the windows.
April 26
It's Saturday, Duccio's birthday, and we're invited for pranzo. With work to do in the garden, we are able to enjoy the sun and continue our weeding and spraying the roses.
Before we know it, it's time to drive to Bomarzo, and Sofi is also invited to join us. Outside their house, the Dentro banner flying, and even Duccio is happy about his contrada's win, even though he does not enjoy the Palio.
We're honored that we've been chosen to share Duccio's birthday meal with them; a delicious stufato of beef, a tender baked dish with delicious broth and roast potatoes and carrots, following a tasty cannelloni.
It's always fun to share time with them and even Sofi is honored...she gets to drink out of Orsino's bowl. Orsino was Donatella's dog; they both passed away not so long ago. Now Sofi considers the bowl her own...at least when she's here for a visit.
After pranzo we do some grocery shopping for tomorrow's pranzo at Michelle's and then return home to enjoy the garden. But we have an art opening to attend in Narni; both Rita from our bottega and Patricia Smith are exhibiting, and Pietro wants to join us.
Pietro arrives at six and we drive off with Sofi guarding the house. There will be a procession with drums, and so our girl will have to stay at home, sadly.
Narni is a wonder of an ancient town, it's remains date back to the second century A D. We walk up past the traffic light to a medieval festa; booths are set around the main square with copper and wood artisans, and then we walk into the palazzo, where many, many artists are exhibiting in different rooms of the upper floor.
I'm always taken by Patricia's work, and spend what time I can in her room, while Pietro and Dino take in the displays of the other artists. I take a quick walk around, then return to her room, where we agree to get together soon.
Patricia's work is so realistic that I'm sure some of the pieces are photographs; but then I know better. So it's enough for me to stand and study them. I realize that I am not a realistic painter; Marco has taught me the value of interpretation and that's what I like best. But Patricia is an extraordinary craftswoman.
We are all hungry, so find one of the tavernas open and eat a small cena, then take our coffee at a bar on the main street. It is a good thing, for as we're finishing our coffee and grappa, the procession begins with more than thirty cities and towns in Italy represented; each in their medieval costumes.
Yes, there are more drums, and the procession takes our breath away. Florence is represented, as is Faenza and Forli and Orte and towns and cities all up and down the boot that is Italy. Some of the costumes are so elaborate that they are of museum quality; at least twice we applaud the costumes and the wearers as they proceed by.
Just before we leave, Pietro draws our attention to the side of the church, where the remains of the original church still stand. This is a place to return to, and a place to study. Perhaps Pietro and Dino will return here with the tour group next week.
We return home to memories of another truly rich evening of Italian history and character. How honored we are to be able to take in this richness, and how hopeful we are that these traditions will continue.
April 27
It's another birthday celebration, and today it's Michelle Noon's. On this sunny morning, we walk up to mass at the smaller church in the piazza with Don Ciro, and then walk home to make fruit salads to take with us.
With no grapes anywhere to be found, we use a pineapple and kiwi, plus the usual oranges and apples, adding slivers of candied ginger, mint, and sprinklings of castor sugar. On the second salad we use sliced strawberries and bananas with brown sugar and balsamic vinegar.
Sofi attends the pranzo with us, and loves rolling around in the grass. There is a lot of grass, and that means foxtails, so I pluck a number of them off her during the day, then realize she'll need a good brushing tonight or tomorrow. Foxtails are dangerous for her; they dig into her skin and well, you don't want to know the rest...
We leave Michelle's present: a basket with a pot of three heirloom tomato seedlings, wonderful garden gloves and a package of napkins with tomatoes painted on them. We hope she'll be inspired to baby the tomatoes, for their orto is extensive.
Speaking of ortos, theirs is near the drive at the front of the house, built up with tufa bricks and able to get to it from both sides. It's also irrigated, so they should have plenty of vegetables this summer. We're hoping our tomato will find it's way there.
Late in the day, we leave to pick up Karina at the train station; she had a tour this morning in Rome, but just wouldn't miss her best friend's party. She's a vision in a lavender shawl, offsetting her pale blond hair and blue eyes.
It's good to see her, although we leave not long after returning to the party, agreeing that she'll come by for coffee tomorrow morning and to see the garden before she returns to Rome for another tour in the afternoon.
As many of you can agree, Karina gives the best tours in Rome, and if you want to contact her for one for yourself, just let us know. She does not have a web site, but we'll be sure to help you reach her.
We're back at home to work in the raised orto above the parcheggio, and while Dino plants the sedano (celery) and pepperoni (red and yellow bell peppers) and pepperoncini and cetrioli (cucumber), I take out all the little bulbs (I'm sick of them, their flowers don't last, and the leaves turn yellow and don't add to the luster of the garden. One is supposed to leave the spent greens for six weeks, but they look terrible. So out with them!
I also take out about half of the wildflowers (dark purple tiny blossoms on grey stalks, quite beautiful) to make more room for the vegetables. Dino mixes in three sacks of new earth, and we realize we've planted seeds for dill, for three spindly stalks have appeared in three separate places. Now, when did I plant these seeds? If I want to take the time, I'll find out in the archives, but that's for a rainy day...
It's growing chilly, so while Dino waters, Sofi and I go inside to fix raviolis for cena. We eat them with the usual butter and sage and freshly grated cheese, and then watch a movie, this time Hollywoodland, before going to bed. It's be a fun day.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll see Karina, but Dino will be off with Pietro to do a tour with several Norwegians. These two do enjoy their tours, and Pietro is a wonder, with Dino as the driver...
April 28
It's chilly but sunny, and Dino leaves early to pick up the van, while Sofi and I putter around. I'm not going to paint this morning, and will put the painting in the back of the car after pranzo to take to Marco's.
It will stay there tonight, for tomorrow there will be a "makeup" session, and by then perhaps the entire figure will be complete, with just the background to be painted. I really must begin to sketch the painting for the school, to be taken to Boston next January...
Dino calls me just before pranzo time to tell me the guests have landed at Fimucino and their adventure is about to begin. Here at home I make a tuna panini and prepare to take the latest painting to Marco's.
April 29
With Dino and Pietro taking a tour group around, Sofi and I are at home by ourselves, and I spend this morning sketching my mother's face. I've decided that she is to be the heroine of my latest painting.
We have a photograph of her taken at around the age of twenty. She was quite a beauty, a Jean Harlow looking blonde, born in 1913. The photograph is just of her face, for the rest of her is covered by a black velvet drape.
She looks straight at the camera with the slightest smile on her lips. It is obvious she is a strong woman, and a captivating one at that. So for this Renaissance-era painting, with the subject draped in flowing cloaks swaying in a breeze, I know it will be her.
How do I know that? She is striking a dramatic pose in the painting, with one arm up pointing at the sky and the other outstretched just below her hip. It is a classic Hildegarde pose, at her most dramatic, and this is a complete coincidence. Now I know that I must paint her face accurately.
At Marco's, he and the others at the bottega are enthralled by my mother's photo, and they all agree that she must have been an actress.
"A casa, si!" (at home, yes!) I tell them. She was a woman capable of the most dramatic attitude, and she loved striking this pose as a funny thing to do. So of course it will be her.
We agree that the carbon drawing of the face is incorrect, and that the size of the drawing I have done is not large enough. So Marco advises me to blow the drawing of her face up by slight percentages, so that we can agree next Monday and then I will copy the outline of her face and then he'll spray it with fixative (strong hair spray) before I begin to paint it.
I drove to class today, and at home the painting waits in the car for Dino to return and bring it upstairs. It's a little too unwieldy for me to carry.
Dino arrives and we sit around talking about his day, and about mine. I don't know what he thinks about my decision to paint my mother, but he tells me we can scan the drawing and blow it up on our computer ourselves.
There is a chill in the air, and sleeping is good. But it's time that the warm weather returns, so perhaps tomorrow we'll have weather to cheer about.
April 30
Tonight is the annual tree and flag-raising in Mugnano, and it is a wonderful sight. Dino's tour continues, and I'm invited to Diego's for cena with them, but I'm skeptical if it means missing the tree raising.
I paint more of my mother's gown in the morning, and at about 11, Sofi and I drive to Walter's in Sippicciano to pick up homemade gelato for the tour group's dessert. Dino calls me to tell me they are late, and our ice cream fest will not take place until about 4PM. I'm assuming it will take place after that, and wonder if we'll be able to attend the tree raising after all. Well, perhaps Sofi and I can leave the group, even if Dino cannot. Puortroppo!
The weather is cloudy, and tonight will be cool. The group returns for gelato and there is plenty of it. Sofi loves meandering around Pietro's property, and Helga and a few of the others take a walk around the borgo while waiting for the tree raising. We're invited for cena at Diego's at 8:30, so there is some time.
Sofi and I walk home, and at the fountain we encounter Enzo Gasperoni, waiting with his tractor and two jugs of wine for the tree carriers. It's 6 PM, but the tree is nowhere to be found. We all gather on Via Mameli a while later, and the tree has still not arrived.
The tree is cut from the banks of the Tiber, and as we look way off to the right, we can see a bunch of them sitting on the ground. There' s no use waiting...it will be along time before they arrive.
We gather together and drive off in the 9-passenger van, with Dino expertly at the wheel. Pietro has forgotten something, so he walks home and we agree to meet him at the White House in the valley. On the road he steps into the van, only to realize he has left a large vase on the outdoor table and it will surely fall over in the wind. So again we drive toward his house, and turn around in front of Maggionlino and Priscilla while he rushes nearby up the hill.
Mette is a wonder, as she wants to feed two small tomatoes to the donkeys. Everyone gets out of the van, and here is Mette with Priscilla and Maggiolino.
"Everybody out! Let's take a picture!" At least we are able to document a part of the tree raising...
Diego is always the star of his show. He's in cook-whites tonight and serves all of us around a rectangular table near the entrance to the huge dining room. As usual, there is a lot to eat, and by the time the coffee is served, Dino and I look forward to going home. With the others on a tour of the building and the church, we drive home in the van and get into bed, thinking it will be a quiet night.
At two A M, there is a great commotion outside the house on the path, and a lot of singing. The doorbell rings and rings and we think it's just a bunch of rowdy young people cavorting about and ignore the noise.
It's impossible to get back to sleep, as the group continues to sing, and we can hear the opening bars to "New York, New York", so perhaps it's the tree raisers. Dino does not want to get up and acknowledge them, although we laugh and Sofi barks....
As the month ends, will we find out who was creating a commotion on the street in front of our house?
MAY 2008
May 1
Dino continues on his driving tour today, and Sofi and I stay home in the garden. It's mild and cloudy, just the right weather to clip some of the many box on our terrace.
The doorbell rings and it's Vincenza, here to collect for flowers for the church for this festa weekend. When I open the gate I ask her if she heard all the noise late last night and she replied, "Si! Una seranade per te!"
I thought this might have been the case, and how sad that we did not get up after all, even if it was 2AM, to stand on the balcony and wave to the revelers who rang our bell and sang and sang. Vincenza is clearly tired, for she joined the merry band last night, and who knows how long it lasted?
Nanda has closed her showroom, and tonight Dino will meet me in Orte to bring back all my paintings in the rental van. She is hopefully going to open a showroom in Rome. Her current location was not a good one, and we wish her good fortune in finding a better one.
We don't know if any paintings have been sold, but she has not paid us anything, so it is doubtful. I suppose we'll have to set up some kind of a gallery here. Perhaps the rooster paintings will be hung in the stairway leading to the second floor.
Nanda told Dino that if the exhibition were in Tuscany, that the roosters would sell in a minute. So, where to exhibit? The rooster is a symbol of Tuscany; consider the Gallo Nero, the DOC appearing on many red wine bottles.
During a walk around the garden, I note that the fava beans are not quite ready to pick. I'm somewhat anxious to begin planting the tomatoes, and to do that we must turn over all the soil where the beans are growing. Not being a fan of these beans, I don't care if we pick any, or just turn them all over.
Since Claudio has planted faves, it does not make sense to give them to them. We'll ask this weekend if anyone wants any. Otherwise, it's the "heave-ho" with them. We really grow them just to augment the soil, anyway.
I'd like to begin to plant the tomatoes this next week, two dozen or so, with more in about another ten days. We'll have about fifty plants, so that means 36 where the fave are growing and another twenty or so in the upper garden. Some plants in the guest bedroom window are still small, so this week we'll begin the process of "hardening them off", that is, putting them outside in the sun for an hour one day, two hours the next, and so on.
We should have a spectacular harvest of heirloom tomatoes of all colors and sizes this summer, and it's worth all the work. Our neighbors are somewhat amazed by the strange colored orbs, but agree that they are really tasty. What we don't eat, we'll bottle, and that should keep us in tomatoes for a couple of years...
I meet Dino at Nanda's in Orte, and we pack up all the paintings and bring them home. Since Dino is still "on a high" from his four-day tour with Pietro and a number of Norwegians, he wants to eat out. So we drive to Giove and eat pizzas at Da Piero, our favorite local pizza "joint".
May 2
The sky is sunny, and the temperature rises until it's almost hot by noon. Sofi and I putter around the terrace and middle garden, picking up a little wild finocchio in the far land for a potato salad.
But at noon the loud noise of fireworks resounds through the valley, for our festa weekend has begun, and with it Sofi's cries. She disappears under the bed, hiding as far away as she can.
Dino spends the morning in Tenaglie on one of his final details for the project, fixing the front door lock. We find it quite amazing that this project has dragged on for another year.
I take the big red and blue festa banners out of the closet, to be hung on the balcony and the front wall before the end of the day. They are somewhat faded, and perhaps next year we'll have new ones made. Now that I think of it, the fading adds some charm, so perhaps we won't.
Other than projects or tours now and then for clients, we don't pay much attention to time or to checklists, for we really are slowing down, and encourage you to do the same. That sound outside our window is the cacophony of a myriad of birds. How many of you don't even hear the sounds of birds outside your window? Stop for a moment and just listen...
Dino comes home for a pranzo that is rather American...grilled hot dogs and fresh potato salad. Dino loves potato salad, and although he's on a search for the perfect one, I'm encouraged as I am today by his compliments. The secret today is the addition of snipped wild fennel fronds. Sure, just yank a bunch from your sidewalk...
We hang the three banners, and now we're set for this weekend's festa, a festa we think will be quite modest. It is a holiday weekend for many, so we expect to see lots of relatives and friends in town, and that will be fun.
Dino returns to Tenaglie, for a specialist is cleaning the terrazzo floor of the master bedroom. For years it has been spotted, and it takes an expert an entire day to renew it. Dino is impressed, as is Angelo, the owner of the little store across the street, by the big machine, which Dino has to help the man move up two flights of stairs.
Sofi and I decide it's time for a short nap, especially since I feel a headache coming on, so after I pop a Difmetre into my mouth we lie down for an hour. I'll meet Dino at 6PM at the church, for he's to wear his Confraternity garb and stand at the altar tonight. I'll sit in our pew with Candida or other friends.
Dino calls to say he's called Mauro to get a replacement for himself at the mass, for the man finishing the floor has more to do. By the time he has finished, the man has also floated a kind of grout over everything to seal the tiles, so that they'll be in excellent shape for years. Va bene.
I walk up to mass by myself, and am home before Dino arrives. We water and work in the garden until dark, and then relax the rest of the evening away.
May 3
Sofi howls as fireworks erupt in the valley at 8AM. She's not happy, and stays close to me all morning. We drive to Terni to Castorama to pick up a few sacks of a volcanic stone for the garden. We tested it out and it works miracles to keep weeds away. These round balls of stone somehow let water in and keep weeds out. We'll put it wherever we have plants and no gravel.
We return via Spazio Verde, where we pick up Osmocote, a solution that Tia swears makes her roses fuller and healthier. It's worth a try, although ours look pretty good as they are. We also pick up a medium-sized teucrium and a long stemmed rose plant. None of our roses are of this variety, and I was inspired yesterday at Pietro's as he snipped long stems of a blowsy rose for a tall vase in his living room. Most of our roses have short stems, and I leave them on the plant instead of snipping some for tables inside.
This will be a good change, and we'll plant it on the East wall of our property next to the little side gate above the parcheggio. Now we have an ancient pot with a crack in it, which we'll repair and use as a vessel for this new plant.
On the way home we stop in Bomarzo at the Post Office, but it has closed. We think Dino's camera sits there, for it was sent to the manufacturer to repair a defect. We'll pick it up on Monday.
After pranzo, we walk up to the borgo for the latest event, a marching band from Monterotundo, near Rome. In the midst of the people here to watch them is Maria Elena, here with two girl friends from Norway. So the mention by one of the Norwegians with Pietro a few days ago that they heard a woman speaking in Norwegian, relates to Maria Elena and her friends.
With great hugs we welcome our dear friend back, and invite them to our house to see the new garden and have a prosecco. The music ends in typical Italian fashion...no crescendo, just a stop and then the people put their instruments away and walk to the little ex-scuola for a snack before entering the bus and returning home.
Weather is lovely this afternoon, and we take the girls on a tour of the garden; then sit under the pergola on the front terrace for prosecco. In a tour of our living room, which is now a very busy exhibit room for my paintings, the women look around and one of them picks out two paintings. I tell her to take them back to Maria Elena's to be sure that she wants them. Many of our good friends now own my art, and that's a thrill for us.
Dino takes his Confraternity costume out and bids us a c'e reveddiamo, for I am not sure that we will attend tonight's mass. But after a short while one of the women wants to see the church, so we leave Sofi to guard the house and walk up to church.
Standing in the back by a side altar, we watch the mass. I'm moved by the women of Mugnano. They take their church and their patron saint, very seriously. As they sing the hymn in honor of San Liberato, our guests are visibly moved by the voices of the women, totally unprompted to sing.
I'm quite moved by the mass as well, for the women of Mugnano are so proud of their church, and sure of their faith. Whatever your belief, this is an excellent example of Italian country life; the people are simple and love their God and their land. Without many of the trappings of city life, the beautiful weather, the birds, their ortos, their families and their Church, give them full lives of which they are truly grateful.
After mass we realize we have not ordered our pizzas for tonight's cena, so walk down to the school to do so. We know there will be a long wait, and there is. But in the meantime we stand around and talk with friends, and then our pizzas arrive. They are very good, and we sit on long tables with our Norwegian friends and drink beer and water. Strangely, there is no wine to be purchased.
We walk home under a clear sky to an adoring Sofi, and end the night thinking of tomorrow's mass and procession.
May 4
Bang! Firecrackers explode in the valley and Sofi cries. It's 8 A M, and time to wake up.
At 9:30 the Bomarzo band arrives and begins to serenade us while we enjoy a small breakfast on the terrace. How wonderful those memories are of the same sounds during our first visits here so many years ago. Soon afterward we leave Sofi again and walk up to the borgo; first to the laying of the wreath in front of the statue of the war dead, and then the mass.
With Dino at the altar in his Confraternity garb, along with about fifteen others, Tiziano and I stand at the back corner of the church, while scores of people file into the little church. The mass is at 11 A M, but at 11:30 people are still arriving. There is hardly any room to stand, and the side doors are opened at the entry to the church, for many parishioners stand in the little square in front of the church, unable to fit inside.
The weather is warm, and as we walk in two rows, with me standing in the center of the women carrying the banner, I recall the first time I walked with this same banner. There is a cadence to the music; to the walking; and the tuba keeps the beat like an elephant blowing his nose in short spurts. My eyes well up with tears, as I'm again honored by this task. Dino later recalls that I was asked to carry this banner last San Liberato as well.
We're at home doing a little puttering in the garden and then it's time for pranzo. With Pietro and Helga here for a cena of abbacchio brodetato tonight, I spend most of the afternoon cooking. A dish I have not made for years is a kind of a cold pea salad, with tiny frozen peas blanched and cooled, with fresh mint and feta cheese added, along with a kind of a vinaigrette. That will work for part of our pranzo...
When our guests arrive later, we sit around the table on the terrace, and light candles, although the sun has not set. Over the next few hours the darkness descends, and Prosecco and cold asparagus wrapped with prosciutto are followed by the brodetato (pieces of a lamb shoulder, very tender, in a lemony-egg-yolk broth), served with parsley potatoes with a lemon zest and then fresh pineapple with lemon sorbet.
It's almost ten o'clock when they leave for home, after coffee and grappa, and at any minute our fireworks will descend...The fireworks are set off in the property just below Pietro's, and I can't imagine how loud or scary it must be to view them from such a short distance.
"Sofia non trovato!" (We can't find Sofia) Dino calls up to Rosina after the show, and she tells him to look "sotto il letto" (under the bed).
The fireworks company is new this year, for the building and company the village used last year from nearby Civita D'Agliano exploded in a terrible accident, and two couples were killed. I have mixed feelings about fireworks, just as I do about horses in parades. There are some things that just do not make sense in this world...
Tonight, Dino and I watch the fireworks from a bench on our terrace, while Sofi quivers under the bed. In past years I'd hold her I my arms while sitting inside as she shook, but this year I decide to have a look at the show instead. Afterward, Sofi appears from under our bed, wagging her tail and seeming fine. With the Gasperoni's dogs howling away, I can imagine how stressful fireworks are to animals.
Earlier, when the Bomarzo band pranced down Via Mameli, the wild cats that live in the garbage bins raced down the hill away from the noise. I'm sure they were not happy with the disruption to their daily antics.
Now while writing this note, everything around me seems so silent. Earlier, Dino explained that what we were seeing in the midst of the fireworks was partly caused by retinal fatigue. Duly impressed, I ask him to explain. As an ex-film lab exec, he explains that this retinal fatigue is what smoothes out movies, for they are shot in 24-frames per second, and what we are really seeing is a myriad of shots, run together. It would be interesting to know who discovered this bit of trivia, and how they discovered it. I'm sure Bob Kalsey can tell us all.
How is he, anyway? We surely are so out of touch with our old friends. These days, friends consist of local people who don't speak English other than Pietro and sometimes Helga when she is here. I suppose that's why I enjoy the silence of spending most of my time at home painting. I really do enjoy the silence, and we both love the tranquility of this wonderful countryside.
May 5
We'll plant somewhere between three dozen and fifty, and look forward to long, leisurely lunches this summer, featuring these tomatoes, worthy of a painting. Of course, you know I'll paint them.
It's too windy to spray, but if the wind dies down I will return to spraying the roses. So far, there are not insects on any of them.
I am able to spray the roses on the front terrace, but then we have a shower and my work has been for naught. So I put the sprayer in the loggia and return inside. After a quick pranzo, Dino drives me and the painting to Marco's bottega, where I work on it all afternoon.
By the time Dino picks me up, I've painted a first layer of Hildegarde's face and some of her hair. At first I thought it was a good representation of a woman, but not my mother; but by the time Dino arrives I think I'm getting closer. There is nothing easy about capturing the details and especially the expression of one you've known and loved.
Before we leave, I tell Marco that May 29th is the anniversary of my mother's birth, and he tells me that it is his birthday as well. Don't forget JFK! His birthday was the same day. So there are three very complicated personalities born on this day, and I'm confident that I can finish at least the details of my mother's face and hands by that date. I have a great fondness for each of these three...
I leave the painting with Marco, and want to be fresh to work on it next Monday. If things are slow this week I'll do another painting or so; I'm not sure what, but probably a still life (natura morta).
We drive to Viterbo for a few errands and then stop at Pietro's to check on his internet connection. We'll return tomorrow night to say c'e reviddiamo to Helga, who will return to Norway on Wednesday.
Back at home, Maria Elena and Elsie come to the gate to tell me that yes, Elsie has agreed to keep the two paintings, one of a rooster and one of a chick with the Mugnano tower in the background, and they will take them back with them to Norway tomorrow.
If we do get to Norway this summer, we'll surely see them both. Maria Elena will be here for the first of June, and that's not far away. I look forward to spending time with her...soon!
May 6
Dino takes me to my scheduled pedicure, but we are early, so stop at Marina Fa Mercato in Orte to look for an umbrella for our clients. I'm drawn to a blue and white striped hammock, that is so well made and so inexpensive, that Dino agrees to rig it up between the caki tree and the loquat tree in the middle garden. I'm already dreaming of lying there with a book...
He and I measure a metal structure to install in the parcheggio. This one is 4 meters by 3 meters, and I let him twist my arm to buy it after measuring at home. The space is perfect for it, and it almost covers the entire car.
So this space in the summertime won't be as much of an oven as in past years...Sometimes we'd get into the car and the temperature would measure 45 degrees C! Think 110F or more...Dino assures me that the white fabric cover will reflect light and give shade where we most need it.
We're at home for pranzo, after stopping at the geometra to pick up plans and budgets for another client; this tiny property behind San Rocco will be rebuilt as a vacation cottage and it will be fun to supervise.
Friends Diego and Luciana ask us to help them with a letter to be sent to tour operators to help them get more business. Castello Santa Maria is the name of the restored monastery in the countryside outside Orvieto and we're happy to help.
I ask Dino during pranzo on the terrace to cut back the first section of bamboo over the pergola, for the wisteria is growing so fast that we have to keep up with it. By mid-summer we expect to have removed the bamboo mat entirely, speriamo.
He wants to return to Tenaglie to finish the front door lock, but wants to work on the pergola, so while he does that I work on the letter.
What do I like the best about Castello Santa Maria as a place to stay? Well, it is entirely tranquil. The vista from the beautiful pool of the calanques is breathtaking. Diego's attentive service and abundant meals are a given there, and the location is beautiful.
There is a separate building with a major kitchen that can accommodate cooking tours and a couple of separate cottages where people can self-cater if they wish. Within ten minutes of Orvieto, it's a great location.
So take a look: www.castellosmaria.com/
I think it is a great location for a weekly cooking school or a quiet few days of rest during an often-hectic Italy trip.
I'm sitting in our room after pranzo with the windows open, and it's difficult not to want to walk outside to play in the sun. I look over to my left to see little Sofi asleep with one long ear resting over the soft side of her bed and the rest of her lolling against it with her eyes closed until I cough or make a sound. What a dog!
Oh, heck. I'll pick this up later. Let's hang the hammock and give it a test drive!
May 7
Sofi is on the path with me, but I can see her little tongue hang out and she is very hot, so scampers up the stairs where it is cooler. I join her in a few minutes, after spraying the roses, and they will take care of themselves, other than with the daily dose of dripping water from the irrigation system so masterfully designed by Dino.
When Candace and Frank arrive, we test-drive the hammock, referred to as an ammoc in Italian. Frank falls out, Dino plunks down but then steadies himself, and then I easily slide in and show them how to balance themselves. Once I'm there, I just do not want to get up. This little enhancement to our garden is a marvel, and I'll be back in it later this afternoon to try it out with a book.
Pranzo is fun, and we send them home with a big bag of fave beans from the tomato garden. We just don't like them, although Dino managed to eat a few with pecorino before our main course today. When they're small, they are tender and not bad. But I'm not about to work up recipes for them, for those I tried last year came out with the beans tasting like metal. No thank you!
We've been serving fresh pineapple these days and I love it, but always hesitated to buy it because it is such a mess to fix. Now I cut the pineapple with a large sharp knife from the leaves to the core in four equal quadrants, then slice the fruit in an arc and then slice it across, so that each serving has triangular shaped slices sitting up against each other. It's now easy to pick up each piece and eat it with one's hands. I suppose one could eat it with a knife and fork as well, but we're pretty relaxed and don't see the need to use a knife and fork for this. Of course, if you are our guests we'll always serve them anyway.
As Frank and Candace leave, we see Giuseppa walk down our hill, and I ask her if she has the beans in her orto. Si, certo. I'm sure she does not have heirloom tomatoes, so ask her if she'd like a few. She agrees, but I don't think she really wants them.
We'll drop a few by, for if anyone can grow them, she can. Since we love them so, eaten sliced with fresh mozzarella and basilico and Diego's olive oil or any old way, we think she'll like them, too.
Our tomato plants still sit in our guest bedroom window, but these days at least the window is open and fresh air streams in. Beginning tomorrow, we'll take them out for an hour a day and then some. Now summer does not seem that far away.
After our guest leave and we finish cleaning up, we take a short nap, for it is warm and it's time for a dolce fa niente. When we wake up the sky is filled with clouds, but there's work to be done in the garden, so I wonder if that snooze in the hammock will have to wait.
May 8
This morning I take them downstairs to the terrace for a brief bit of introduction to the outside air...one hour today, two hours tomorrow, and so on. We'll move them to the living room window for the next week or so.
Now that the weather will be rainy next week, I'm pondering whether it will be too wet to plant them...With the moon inching up on fullness, we see that we're definitely not any match for Mother Nature. Let's see if She wants our tomatoes to survive...
I drive to Il Pallone to do some food shopping, stopping in Bomarzo on the way to visit Felice and Marsiglia. Well, I mostly visit Marsiglia, for Felice is in a perpetual state of fog, the poor man. I don't know if he recognizes me, but he's friendly, and sits on the couch while Marsiglia and I whisper in the kitchen.
Things have not changed, but Marsiglia has her faith, and that's helping her through. Before I leave Marsiglia shows me her beautiful garden, mostly pots all in flower, and many, many roses growing against the wall. This really is a perfect property for them; if only Felice were aware enough for them both to appreciate it.
I drive on to Il Pallone, and do love the drive. The countryside is beautiful, and I take my time on the road between Mugnano and Il Pallone. The famous peony garden is located just meters away from the market, but we never seem to take the time to stop.
April and May are the months for their blooms, and I notice that Marsiglia has peonies, dark purple ones, that are only now coming into bloom.
After Dino returns from a few hours in Tenaglie (yes, the project still lumbers on), we eat pranzo on the terrace and then, because the sky begins to cloud up, I take photos of the terrace and garden. It's been three years since my story ran in the San Francisco Chronicle, so perhaps it's time for a revisit.
So here are some of the latest photos,
There is a chill in the air, but no rain, as Dino drives to Daniele for a quick haircut, then we visit Marina Fa Mercato in Orte to order our parcheggio cover.
We decide against ordering it, but drive to Viterbo to OBI for options, where we find a great alternative at a much lower price. It consists of two pieces of triangular fabric, about 3 meters in each direction, that will be placed over each other to make a kind of rectangle and be bolted into the sides of the tufa columns so that they will pretty much float above the car, letting wind pass through.
There won't be much of a design, so we think it will work very well to keep the heat and sun out of the major part of the parcheggio. I tell Dino that I envision a blank slate; the car is taken out of the parcheggio and we lay the pieces on the ground and determine just where they should sit.
Dino agrees, and he knows the angle at which they should be hung. This is a perfect project for him. So in the next few days it will be soaring above the car, somewhat like San Vincenzo soaring over Mugnano in my painting...
May 9
I do want to put the pomodori out for at least two hours, so we'll see...by the time we leave for Umbertide, they have had a sun bath of more than two hours. Va bene.
The drive is long, but we arrive at their property up a steep stradabianca and it is so good to see Danny standing in the garden with a hose in his hand. He looks good, and feels much better. Morghan, one of their daughters, is here, and Wendy puts together a wonderful pranzo to eat on their side terrace under an umbrella.
On the way back we find ourselves trapped in some kind of automobile rally, and the cars in at least this section are all Alfa Romeo's. So we pull off to take a look, and then drive on as if we're one of them. We love our Alfa, and just before arriving home the odometer reads 190,000 km. We hope we can keep it for many years.
It's growing dark when we pull into the parcheggio, and Dino wants to move forward on the project hanging sunscreens over the car. Tomorrow morning we'll hope to install the entire thing. I know Dino will stay awake just dreaming about it...
May 10
Here are a few photos of the project, from start to...almost finish. By the time we finish pranzo and Dino finishes watching the Formula 1 trials on TV, he tells me that we need, "...Just one more section". I agree, for the late afternoon sun will reach the part of the car where I sit.
So before we drive to Candace and Frank's to work on their terrace project, Dino wants to drive to Viterbo to pick up the last section.
Although I don't believe in forwarding messages, I forward this to Don Salter, who is a university instructor in England. He responds that he will do what he can to look into the issue and let me know. I am hopeful, for I cannot fathom the real reason for the change.
There are more clouds in the sky mid-afternoon, but we've had such a lovely morning that I really can't complain. Well, I'm going to complain about one of our roses: Fantin Latour. It's leaves look sickly, the blossoms turn brown and fall off, although there is plenty of water. On the internet I read that it takes full sun and can manage with less than perfect soil, so what's wrong? I'm ready to get rid of it, but Dino persuades me to hold on until mid-summer.
In the meantime, three of our newer roses are a joy: one Lavender Lassie and two Chapeau de Napoleon. The Lavender Lassie is healthy and full of beautiful blooms. The Chapeau is so much fun: its three-cornered "hat" is pushed off by the blossom, which opens to show a really lovely flower. I have no idea why we wound up with two of these Peter Beales roses, but have no complaints.
Take a look:
Looks like we'll miss church this week. Tonight we'll be at Candace and Frank's.
We drive to Viterbo to pick up the last section of the parcheggio cover, and then through the countryside to Orvieto. This is another beautiful drive, past Bagnoregio, and the land is lush and oh so green.
Dino and Candace work on the iron rods that form the brace for their awning, and it is difficult to get them plumb. What a strange word...plumb. Before dark, we think all the pieces fit well, but Dino does not have a key tool to install the rod over the outdoor dining table, so he'll have to complete that another time.
We sit outside under candlelight for a light dinner, and then drive home under the moonlight, entering what feels like a garage instead of our usual parcheggio. The new fabric installation is indeed a success.
May 11
The purpose of this dig is to uncover and do research regarding the brick kilns that were in operation in the Mugnano Valley around the Time of Christ. The last kilns were active during the second century A. D. These kilns were important in Italian history, as they made tiles used to construct the Colosseum and the Pantheon in Rome.
Those tiles can be identified with stamps visible on their walls even today. At the time these structures in Rome were built, the tiles were loaded onto barges on the adjacent Fosso Rio and traveled down the Tiber River to Rome.
Pietro arrives, followed closely by Duccio and Giovanna, and we leave Sofi and walk down to the fountain where we meet Torbjorn, who wants to come along.
Dino checks in with Tiziano, who is waiting for someone from Viterbo, and in a few minutes a caravan of about ten cars drives by. Since we know the way, we get into Duccio and Giovanna's car and follow them to the campo.
We follow the group along, and it is an interesting group, with each person fascinated by the subject as well as the location. There is another part of the tour today, of the pyramid in Bomarzo, but we do not attend, choosing to be dropped of by Duccio, where we spend the rest of the morning enjoying the weather.
We've had a tour of the dig in English, and have visited a couple of times. So we're here to support Tiziano. Perhaps at some future date, there will be a program and fundraiser to help him raise the funds he needs to reopen the dig. The dig is covered over for who knows how long. If you'd like to know more about the dig, or how you can participate in raising funds for its continuance, just email us.
The sun remains, and Dino grills chicken and pineapple and gets ready to sit by the T V to watch his beloved Formula 1 race, this time in Turkey.
With skies clouding up, I do a tour of the garden looking for mites on roses, but all is well. The forecast for the next ten days is terrible, either overcast or rain, so the April and May blush of roses is headed for a dreary end.
Dino installs one last piece of the parcheggio cover, and we are prepared for the hottest sun. But where is it?
We end the evening with a visit to Pietro; a visit that turns into cena with a guest from Norway.
May 12
Marco tells me that I have progressed a great deal in the last year, and I agree with him. I still have so much to learn. By the end of the session, I think I have my mother's expression portrayed quite well, but I'll continue to tweak it, and add huge boulders behind her in the background for context.
Earlier in a call from GB, I learn that my latest piece on Barabatta, a local celebration outside Marta, is published today. It's fun to see it "in print", even if it is on the internet, and GB is great to work with. I will have another piece, on the Mille Miglia, published later in the week, for the race is this next weekend.
GB adds an Italian phrase to my submission, "Non importa!" It translates to, "It's nothing"...or, "No matter". I've never seen it written or used quite like this, but then there is so much I do not know. Non importa!
If you are a lover of Italian life, do check out the blog: www.italiannotebook.com
. You can have a free daily subscription and why not? One of the contributing writers is...me!
With rain off and on all day, the garden flowers are a little soggy. I'm not able to spray, for the rain washes off the soap and alcohol base, so perhaps tomorrow I will. I did put the tomatoes out for three hours or so this morning, before the rain showers began. They're looking good.
Tonight Pietro and his houseguest arrive for Prosecco, and the guest and I drink iced tea, for he does not drink and I'm nursing the start of a headache. Difmetre to the rescue... It probably has something to do with the weather, although I have been concentrating so intensely on the painting at Marco's that that could have contributed to the stress in my neck.
May 13
After a wet walk around the new garden this afternoon, Dan and Wendy drive home. We take Jurgen to Viterbo to walk around San Pellegrino, then up to San Flaviano and the Duomo in Montefiascone and on to Bolsena to the church of the Miracle of Bolsena. There is some drizzle, but it doesn't deter us. These are three of our favorite places to visit in the area.
Don't forget, I remind Dino, that we must renew our Permessos this week. Yes, it has been ten years, and this fall we'll apply for citizenship. But since the office in the Questura is not open in the afternoon, we'll try to visit on Thursday morning. We believe it's best to show up late...around 11:30 or so, after all the numbers have been given out and the rest of the waiting people turned away. We'll let you know...
May 14
I'm enjoying writing the quips, and have a few up my sleeve. But today I'm going to paint the background for the painting I'm currently working on.
First, Dino asks me to go with him to Tenaglie, to do an inventory. That done, we drive to Viterbo, but it's too late to visit the Questura, so we'll do that tomorrow. We stop for a roast chicken at IPERCOOP and drive home, where we eat pranzo on the terrace, to the sound of muratores working at Pia's property across the street. It looks as though she's going to have some kind of storage room built next to her little house. We don't need binoculars to see what is going on in the valley below us...
Dino returns to Tenaglie, where the muratores are doing a really great job paving the walkway with square stones that look like cobblestones. Yes, we are almost done...While he works on a few small projects on the house, I paint the first pass of the background of the painting featuring my mother in Renaissance garb...or is it Medieval?
I am painting mountaintops and hills for the first time, and liking it a lot. By the time Dino returns home around 7 P M, I am bleary-eyed. Tomorrow I won't paint. We'll definitely visit the Questura late in the morning, after he drives Jurgen and Annika and Torbjorn to the train station.
May 15
My mind is racing, even though I awake with a headache. I knew yesterday afternoon that my extended and intense concentration on the painting stressed my back and neck. That's all it takes for a headache to follow.
When I look at the painting this morning, although I am excited by it, I don't have the strength to paint today.
Outside, Mario turns over the fave to prepare the soil for irrigation and the planting of the tomatoes. He thinks our plants are puny; we'll show him that every year they succeed just the same. What should we be doing to help them to grow strong? I'm just not sure.
I email the folks at Golden Harvest Organics in Oregon for counsel, but it appears that we'll just have to jump in and hope for the best. Each day this week we've taken the pomodori out to sit on the terrace to acclimate themselves, so except for periods of rain now and then, they're outside for most of the sunlight hours. It will take until next week or at least Sunday, for the irrigation to be put down, and then we'll begin with the largest plants.
I like planting basil between the tomatoes and think it might enhance the flavor, but Dino purchased tubing with 40 cm between holes, so I don't think our previous scheme will work. It also appears we'll be able to plant fewer, for the previous distance between was 30cm. So where will they all go? I'd like to get fifty in the ground, so that means thirty below and twenty above. We still have more than sixty plants, but some of them are very small and probably won't survive the transition. I'm willing to keep them around to see if they'll grow on their own in pots, so we'll see...
We're eating outside these days, and it's what this dream is all about. In previous years, we continued to eat mostly in the kitchen, for it was either too hot or too cold or rainy or...
It helps that the garden looks great. I drop a note to my contact at the San Francisco Chronicle to see if she'd be interested in a story update, but whether she does or not, I'm not concerned. I'm not concerned about much of anything these days.
Earlier in the Questura in Viterbo, we stood in line to renew our Permesso di Sojournos (don't know if that's the correct grammar, but you get the point). We quipped about how very frightened we were ten years ago when first applying. In those days, we'd stand in line at 7 A M and at 9 A M, 50 numbers were chosen, the rest of the applicants told to come back another day. Only after a few renewals did we learn the trick of coming in later in the morning when things calmed down.
But today we are told that the regulations have changed. We are to go to the Post Office and pick up a packet. When we've completed the very complicated form, we are to turn it in to the post office and get a receipt. This afternoon we do some research to see where we can go for help, and there is a Post Office in Orte where we are told we can go.
Since our permits expire this weekend, we're going tomorrow morning, and expect it to take the entire morning, at the very least. I think we have thirty days more to renew, but am not sure. I'm still not concerned.
We must renew our permits before applying for citizenship, and since the registration in our local Comune is in September, we will not be able to apply until then. We can, however, get our documents translated, and we'll travel to Amelia to Eurolinks for that. They're always helpful.
We'll post the journal tonight, so stay tuned for the end of month posting to find out if we're able to ride this camel of a bureaucracy across the desert of misinformation...
May 16
They are not open yet, but the chef handed Dino a big piece of freshly-made bread, made with salt (yay!) and rosemarino. It was so delicious that we devoured it in the car on the way home. We'll definitely return...subito!
After writing about how perfectly healthy the roses are, aphids and other critters seemed to descend on almost all of them in just one day. So a major spraying with denatured alcohol and soap and water takes place, but on this overcast morning I'm thinking that there is a war on between the animali (little critters that we know as bugs) and the roses.
I have not slept well, for my headache continued all night, and as a result Dino tells me to stay in bed while he drives to Orte for advice on filling out the forms for our permanent visas.
He returns mid morning to tell me that after some running around he found someone helpful and now is finishing the paperwork to submit it before pranzo. Our anniversary renewal date is this weekend, but the woman who helped him told him not to worry.
I'm not going to paint until Monday, and my mind is racing about the next painting. This will be a major undertaking, for I'm going to create the design instead of using any previously painted models, if I decide to go through with it.
The subject includes my father and his dear friend, Jim Hart, who were responsible for buying a derelict building in the inner city section of Uphams Corner, Boston in 1979. The building is now being restored and refurbished in connection with its new tenant, a charter school.
My father and Jim talked for years about this idea, about creative use of the building and an opportunity for local citizens to improve their lives within its walls. But it has taken a great deal of effort and creative thinking on the part of Jim's son, Charlie, and Linda Webster to make this dream a reality. If all goes according to plan, the school will open next January.
Now that I have painted my mother as a subject in a painting, it is time for my father to have his chance. I have excellent photographs of the building, and perhaps the two main characters will be depicted as angels, sitting on the roof with their feet dangling over the edge, joking and laughing with glee as the students look up to see what is happening above them.
Back in Italy, dreary skies and chirping birds continue, with flocks of rondine circling about. We're not able to connect to our server, and it's probably the grey skies.
We're not able to watch the Edith Piaf movie, for it is in Italian with French subtitles. Well, we could watch it, but 9 P M is not a time to have to concentrate. So when we return to the U S we'll rent it. Non importa.
May 17
We're at Porta Romana, and just before the first ones arrive we realize that we're at the wrong place. So we move quickly down to San Pellegrino, the medieval quarter, and we've missed the first few cars. But in a few minutes we find the best place to watch, at a corner where the cars must slow down to navigate a turn. Those cars with low bodies don't do well on this ancient pavement, but the drivers and co-drivers are a spirited lot and expect some of this. One car leaves a trail of oil behind it, purtroppo!
Here's a selection of photos to see some of the cars. If you would like to read my story that appeared earlier this week in Italian Notebook, visit our Italian Notebook section of this site. It includes all of the stories I have written for them to date. But for a daily quip about all things Italian, sign up for the free short blurbs and photos at: www.italiannotebook.com
We've seen cars from Argentina and Mexico, Ferraris and Bugattis and lots of Mercedez Benz and Alfas and BMWs. But this year there are less of the really old cars. Is that because we are watching on the last day, and some of the oldest cars have not made it past Rome?
Back at home, we sit under an overcast sky and enjoy pranzo outside, as we do almost every day now. I think Dino is convinced that the sun is high enough in the sky to roll back more of the bamboo covering over the pergola, even though it's the first real year for the wisteria and it's not completely covering the edge. In years to come we'll laugh about wanting it to grow faster.
Today is the day to prepare the soil for the tomatoes, and Dino and I do it alone, although the other day Mario turned over all the fave to enrich the soil. I'm somewhat nostalgic, remembering those years when Felice joined us, mentoring us all the way. Here's a photo of him looking proudly at our first attempt what seems so many years ago.
I'd love to have Felice see what we have done, but sadly he would not understand. So we'll think of him with love and be proud that we are able to master the laying of the irrigation and laying and tying of the bamboo supports all by ourselves. Dino does a masterful job; I'm just his "step'nfetchit".
"How about pizza tonight?" Dino asks me while we're finishing with the last ties. Sounds good to me. We have enough space to plant 33 tomatoes and 6 basil plants in the lower area. We have not begun to tackle the upper area, where we could possibly fit another two dozen.
The plants are still not growing; perhaps they need to be in the ground. But this overcast and off and on rainy weather is not good for them. So I don't know what we'll do. We'll think about it tomorrow, and possibly plant a small number of the largest plants and some of the basil tomorrow.
With showers, rain and thunderstorms for the next three days, and little sun in the long term forecast, I don't think we should plant tomatoes until later in the week. Perhaps we'll begin with the basil, and see how that does. In the meantime, the irrigation system works fine, dolling out its drops in each spot where a plant is to grow.
Here are a few hints I've uncovered from the internet that we're going to follow, from two different but comparable sites:
"Planting your tomato plants deeply will give them a head start on growing a strong root system. Bury them in the ground two thirds of the way down or to where the stem begins to thin out. They will send out roots from the stem and begin their top growth more quickly as well as anchor them in to the soil. More roots mean they can feed themselves faster."
"Tomatoes have the unique ability to grow roots along their stem, so as much of the stem of the plant can be buried as possible, leaving the top two sets of leaves exposed above the ground. This may seem strange at first, but the plants will grow to be much sturdier than they would otherwise."
So we're not as worried about the fact that some of our tomatoes look puny.
Dino stops watering the tender plants as it's begun to rain! Aaagggghhhh! We've never had so much bad weather in the Spring. Let's not dwell on it, let's just plant those tomatoes lower in the ground next week and let them take care of themselves...
May 18
I think of our dear friend, Don Francis, and of how the hierarchy of the Church is so very strict, and will accept nothing other than its one very narrow path to follow. Is God so rigid in His instructions to His Church that there is no room for love and understanding unless the followers are rigid in their beliefs?
With people continuing to leave the Church in droves, what is wrong with this pope? His chosen path is so narrow that only the most devout, and those with blinders on, can be true to the Church. In little villages and towns all over the world, I would hope that priests would be more loving, more understanding, of human frailty. Perhaps I am just na•ve.
During the mass, the wind is so fierce that I am wondering if the bamboo supports for our tomatoes have flown down into the valley. But at home all is calm, if not wet. Even the tarps over the car are fine, dripping as they are supposed to do. Remember they are for the sun, and only secondarily for the rain.
We'll have a fire in the fireplace today. How strange, in the middle of May! It's a day to watch T V, if the satellite connection behaves, and a day to work on ironing and moving summer clothes. Dino wants to plant basil and a couple of tomato plants that we purchased a few weeks ago.
Well, the sun comes out and for the rest of the day we have warm temperatures and cloudy skies. Forget the fire in the fireplace; we're going to plant the tomatoes!
Dino begins with the dozen basil plants, and although we'll need more, they are spaced after every two tomato plants. We plant basil with the tomatoes because it is supposed to enhance the tastes of the tomatoes. And beside, I love basil in the summer time, and there is never enough. Now I can pick a whole bunch for a meal of buffala mozzarella, basil and tomatoes, with Diego's olive oil. I can make a meal of that, so with a chicken breast or something else that is simple, we'll be ready for summer eating at its best...from the garden.
We wind up planting 33 tomatoes, 11 in each of three rows in the lower garden. We talk about the upper garden, for we have about twenty or twenty-five more, and we'll plant them in two rows, with a kind of teepee of bamboo supporting them. Here we'll have a couple of basil plants on the side, as the space is strangely laid out. That project will have to wait a few days, although there is a full moon tonight.
Dino folds back another section of bamboo over the pergola, for the sun is high in the sky, and we'll train the wisteria up and across to fill in the front sections. It's really doing well.
The next project is the front door "screen", and we finish it before dark. I don't really like it, but we don't seem to be able to find anything better to keep mosquitoes and flies outside. A screen door won't work, for Sofi needs to be able to come and go. So we're trying our second set of strings that have wooden beads at the bottom.
But since the structure is tall, we have to move up each bead, make a knot and burn the bottom below the bead to reach the correct length. There are 218 of them, Dino asked me to count them, and now we can open both doors when we are at home. I wish there were other options, but this makes Dino happy, and sometimes relationships are all about compromise.
Earlier I walked the tomato "patch" and everything seems to be doing fine. Even the tiniest plants seem to have taken to their new surroundings. We've put root innoculant in the hole beneath each plant, and special organic fertilizer beneath each plant and over the top once it is positioned in the ground.
We're hoping for overcast skies for the next few days and no thunderstorms, to help the tomatoes to acclimate. Perhaps on Wednesday we'll set up the upper planting garden and plant the rest of the tomatoes there.
It's been a good day, with no rain after this morning's dousing, so we go to bed hoping for mild weather and no storms for the next week or so.
May 19
Dino travels to Tenaglie, and the only work left to complete is the gravel for the back yard and the mattone (paving) installation inside the studio. Tomorrow afternoon, Mari will clean and we'll do a check to make sure the inventory is up to date and everything is in place for the renters who arrive this weekend.
Dino drives me to Marco's with the painting, and I change the background, finishing only a part of it during my studio time, 
At the end of the procession, Don Luca names the people who are to participate in this year's festarolo committee: among them are Claudio and Michelle and Oysten. There are twenty members of this group, but who knows how many will actually do the work!
It's as if giant egg whites have been painted across the pale blue sky above us, and it's cool. So I mix a biologic fertilizer and spray the leaves of the pomodori; this week we'll begin to "harden them off", which means take them outside for an hour one day, two the next, and so on.
With sun in the sky we wake up to the sounds of birds, while soft breezes flutter the gauze curtains and Sofi hangs her beard over the side of her bed, just waiting....
Another lovely day greets us, but as the morning wears on, clouds develop. With Candace and Frank arriving for pranzo and a look at the new garden, I work in the kitchen and then spend an hour on the roses, mostly on the path with the Lady Hillingdons. These roses bloom all summer, and I'm amazed that when I deadhead each one, I can see evidence of new shoots not more than several inches away on the first succeeding set of leaves, or the next.
The sky is clear, and for a few days we'll have sun. But next week we're scheduled to have rain for four days! This is certainly not typical spring weather, but I think we'll be able to plant at least the first of our tomatoes by the end of the weekend...
Even more important, here are the latest photos of Sofi.
I can feel humidity in the air for the first time this year, and although I'm not sure it will rain, we close the windows to prepare for the wind.
We're visiting Danny and Wendy in Nicone, above Umbertide, for pranzo, and are bringing a big bowl of Macedonia (fresh fruit) for Danny, hoping that his medical ills are subsiding. He's on a special diet, so this should help. 
Sofi is in heaven, chasing lizards around the property and exploring. By the time we have to leave, she's visibly tired, and her tiny tongue hangs almost down to the ground.
There are a few clouds in the sky, but it is warm, so we change into summer clothes and work on the parcheggio. By the time we're ready for pranzo, the project is finished...almost. 
I have forwarded an email from Robin regarding the British Government's choice to remove the Holocaust from its school curriculum because it 'offended' the Muslim population which claims it never occurred. "This is a frightening portent of the fear that is gripping the world and how easily each country is giving into it" the piece adds. 
Tomorrow, Tiziano will lead a tour to his archeological site. Duccio called us to say the notice was in Correre della Serra, one of the main newspapers in Italy, and we give him Tiziano's phone number for more information. We see Rosita on the street in front of our parcheggio, and she tells us to meet at the bottom of the road near the campo sportive, which she calls, "il lago" (the lake).
We're up early, for this morning we'll visit Tiziano's archaeological dig. The sun is out, with lots of thin clouds, for tonight and tomorrow we expect rain. But this morning is a perfect day to visit what Tiziano affectionately refers to as Il Buca Nera (the black hole). 
Tiziano floats as if on a cloud, as he explains the history and various details about the dig, far out in the Mugnano valley, now completely covered over by earth and rocks and hundreds of wildflowers. Almost everyone has a walking stick, and one of the fellows from the archeological association in Viterbo hands me a stick from a pile of wood near the cars.
There is no rain, but the sky is overcast. It's a perfect day to paint, and I'm looking forward to my latest project. By the time we leave for Marco's there are a few rain showers, but the covers over the parcheggio really do work. We're able to put my latest painting in the car with no fear of it getting wet.
Dan and Wendy arrive for an early pranzo, after dropping their daughter, Morghan, off at the airport. With Danny still watching what he eats, I fix chicken tonnato, and he can skip most of the sauce. We love this dish, and prepare it often in the summertime.
Yesterday, GB published my second story about the Mille Miglia, and soon we'll also put those stories on our site, in the event you don't wish to subscribe (free) to italiannotebook.com.
"If we did all the things we are capable of doing,
we would literally astound ourselves." -- Thomas Edison
While in Viterbo yesterday, we saw a sign above a little shop across from IPERCOOP, "Buongiorno Napoli Pizzeria", and Dino wanted to check it out. It is a little restaurant and pizzeria, but from the outside it looked quite interesting. Dino stepped out of the car just as a worker walked up, and a chef opened the door for them.
We're up very early, for drive to Viterbo to find our spot to watch the Mille Miglia before the arrival of their first cars at 8 A M. The group left Rome at 6:30 A M, or that was the time planned, but when they reach Viterbo it's closer to 8:30. 
We wake up to rain and wind, so drive to church. The storm continues with our priest, Don Bruno, whose voice is raised at such a decibel that the old church seems to rumble. His voice is so loud that it is impossible to understand him, and it angers me.
Ugly weather continues, and we keep the remaining tomato plants inside. There is a shower in the morning and overcast skies all day.