The days of wine and....breadsticks...

It is hard to believe that nearly ten months have gone by.   It's beginning to feel like "home" in the deepest sense of the word.  Such a different feeling than even after four years in Monroe and a year in Delaware.

The lady upstairs, Lucia, thinks we saved her life (we didn't, we just tried to help when she had fallen down the stairs).  Walking anywhere results in a constant parade of "Buongiorno!" and "Ciao!"  from all the people we now know.  Luciano, the photographer on the corner.  Giovanni, my husband's barber.  Raffaela, the lady who owns the little housewares store.  Donato, the man who also has housewares and where we get Harry's kibble and most of our wine.  Emidio and Gabriela from the insurance office.

Then there are the piazzetta neighbors.  Margherita and Tony, across the street.  They have brought us figs, cucumbers, tomatoes from a friend of theirs with a small farm.  And Domenico, who does woodworking and has insisted we take two candelabra as a gift, just yesterday gave us three bottles of strong red wine vinted by a friend of his with a local vineyard.  Have you ever had wine from an unmarked bottle?

Also there is Hugo, with his dog, Hugo (yes, it's true) who was Harry's first friend here.  And Luca, owner of our favorite restaurant.  And Aldo, who lived in Queens for 28 years, and Francesco, who lived in New Jersey for 20 years.

Even the pharmacist likes me now and slips into using English a bit, although I prefer to speak Italian.  Beyond all those, there are the people whose establishments we frequent for various reasons (coffee here, a glass of wine there, the shoe store, the gift shop, the manager of the supermarket) whose names we don't know but it is imperative to give a greeting.

The rhythm of the town is seeping into our lives.  I get up in the morning now and I stay up, whereas I used to feed Harry and go back to bed.  Then, in the afternoon, when the town is sleeping, so do I...if not sleep, rest.

There was a bread store I used to love when I first arrived.  Just a tiny little room, really, with shelves all around, run by an old man.  Besides the wonderful smell of the place, it barely looked like a "real" place - beautiful loaves, pizzelle, cookies, little individual size pizza rounds, red checked cloths on the shelves...and a sign saying "Pane e vita".."Bread is life."  He always had a little radio going on what I suppose would be called an old-fashioned station because the music was reminiscent of what you used to hear in 50s and 60s foreign movies.  Just after Christmas he retired and I was really sad about that, but glad for him.

I just discovered another bread store and it is across the street from the supermarket.  Their bread is authentic and wonderful.  They also have cookies and tarts.  A new favorite place to add to our list.

We have picked up our applications for permission to stay for the next year.  Really hoping the process is a bit easier this second time around.

I don't know how to thank everyone for their welcome and their generosity.  Perhaps a simple buffet "open house" around the holidays?

Here are the bottles of red wine from Domenico.  They are all for my husband as I am allergic to red wine, but I understand this stuff is quite strong.  The breadsticks are hand made and infused with rosemary, insanely good.

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.....

I failed her.  I did. I fully accept that, as painful and as hard as that is.  But I failed her.  I did not step in soon enough.  And when I did, I did not do enough.

So now, little Pirate (Pirata) has died.  She spent her last time on earth in our courtyard...she had had a bit to drink and a tiny bit to eat...but she was breathing laboriously.  Painfully thin.  We tried...but we failed her.  And NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE SAYS..so….please don't say it...that is the way it will be.  I don't want platitudes.  I failed this little life...that came to me for help.

Now we have a veterinarian.  He is, in the modern parlance..."woke."...My husaband went down to pay him for his services tonight, since he refused at the time....and they wound up talking for over an hour.  The vet is a good guy.  He advised us not to say a word about "the plan" to anyone....because the regular Italian people don't have the money to neuter their pets.....so we would wind up with a dozen cats at our door.

Also....he understands about fascism....climate change....he is concerned about "the children"....we will work together to stop the unwanted baby kittens.  Shhhhhhhh!!!!

As sad as I am about my baby Pirate....I was able to grab Scruff and get drops into his/her eyes....he was not happy.....not happy....not.   Took off like a bat out of hell when I let him go.....I cleaned out a whole bunch of gunk and got two good doses of drops in each eye.   He disappeared for about five minutes and then came back to eat some more....and I made sure I pet him again.

I'm so sorry, little Pirata……..you were dealt a mortal blow soon after your birth....and I did not help you soon enough.....I am so sorry.

And the eyes in his head see the world spinning round...

There is a man in town.  An old geezer (who am I to talk?)...he must be in his seventies, perhaps close to eighty.  However, he rides his bicycle all through this hill town.  That, in and of itself, is quite a feat, more especially at his age.  He's thin as a rail but a tough old bird.

I first encountered him on Valentine's Day.  We were walking up the street, my husband ahead of me because I am slow.  He had rounded the corner and as I approached, this old man on his bike started talking to me.  Oh dear....my Italian was not so good but I managed to get the gist of what he was saying.  He had some papers in a small satchel.  They were all copies of the same thing...something he had written by hand and he drew a heart at the top.  He was giving them out to le donne  (the women) on Valentine's Day.  It translated, roughly, as "All you need is love"....that was the basic message.

I wondered then about this man.  How does he survive?  Is he all alone?  Did he once have the love of his life and lose her?  Does he have any family?  Friends?

Another time he chatted us up, happy to discover we are Americans.  Heaven knows why at this point, but that is still the usual response.  He liked Harry and gave him some pets and asked a few questions.  How old is he?  What kind of dog is he?  He said he could tell he was a sweet boy.

In the supermarket one day he was congratulating a bike champion - it's a big thing here.  He was a bit too loud...but the biker was happy.

I've noticed that he seems to be considered the village nut case.  People shake their heads, or look down with little smirks.  And he may, indeed, have some mental and/or emotional issues, but he is not out of touch with reality.

He was ranting one day in the main piazza, yelling at someone...I am not sure if it was someone "official" from the Municipale or not....yelling and gesturing.  And spectators shook their heads or looked away.  But I have figured out what made him angry.  There are large pots of flowers in the piazza and they don't get cared for enough.  Plus, it has been 90 degrees or more every day.  The next day I saw him taking a soda bottle and filling it up over and over again to water the flowers.  It stands to reason, really.  If the town went through the trouble of planting the flowers to beautify the piazza, someone should be taking care of them.  There are multiple cisterns nearby, it isn't that hard.

We have our very own "fool on the hill"...but he isn't a fool at all. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he doesn't care who knows it.  I think my "Valentine" has stolen a piece of my heart.

We're gonna get married....

Since we have been here there have been five funerals.  Not surprising...there are lots of older people here.....at the same time..there are lots of kids, too.  But, the funerals are a big deal.  You see people gathering in the piazza, and the cars....the police show up to direct traffic....and close off the one street.  There are flowers strewn on the "hearse"....and then a slow procession through the main street to wherever the cemetary is.  One went by as we were ordering pizza several nights ago...a bit disarming.

This town, and probably many others, puts up "death notices" on boards around the town.  They are poster size.  People in cars stop to read them.  People on foot stop to read them.  Death is an accepted part of life here.

However...today....there was a wedding!  Five funerals and a wedding - was that a film? Something like that.... yes, today there was a wedding.  An evening wedding at about 6 or 6:30 PM.  Lucky couple.  They could not have chosen a more perfect day.  We have had several weeks of over 90 degree days...a bit hot...oppressive.  Especially for these parts.  But, we had rain yesterday and everything cleared and the temperatures plummeted.  Today the skies were blue with fluffy clouds and the temperatures were in the 70s.  It was an absolutely perfect day.

We happened to be walking up to the piazza just before the big event.  I got to see a Bentley drive up.  Women in long gowns.  RED!  Backless, skin tight...but with bodies to handle it.  Young men in suits with bow ties and patent leather loafers, sans socks.  Skinny pants.  Sunglasses.  The Italian studs.

I would have liked to stick around and see the bride (sposa) arrive, but we are getting old...and it had been a long day...so rather than stand around for who knows how long...we opted to get a Prosecco at the café close to home and then proceed a casa.  The bride did not arrive for several more minutes after we got home....but we could hear the cheers of the crowd.

There were no bridesmaids.  There was no other "circumstance"....the wedding in the ancient church lasted all of ten minutes and then the bells were rung.  Here we are in the land of Catholicism...and there was no endless mass, no 3 or 5 or more bridesmaids...none of that nonsense....and off they went to wherever they were going for the big party afterwards.

We were sitting on the balcony, glass of wine, enjoying the light breeze of the perfect day...the gorgeous view....I hope this couple's luck follows them....buona fortunata.