Mercoledi, Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Today is my father's 93rd birthday. Wow! His mom lived to be 94 and his brother to be 92. So, on one side of my family: I have long living genes. Hmmm.
Today, Carlyle and her 'fellow' Casey depart for Italy. It will be good to have some of my kidlets with me, as this is a home meant to be shared with family. It was always the focus.
Last evening, as the sun set: what had been green looking mountains turned rocky colored gray and coral, reflecting the sun as it traversed the lake. The day was a kaleidoscope of colors: a day's worth of rainbows shining in front of me to feast on. Today, it is crisp, breezy, cool, not hot, and blue. A shade less bright than yesterday- but that is the color palate of the lake after a storm.
I am writing down all the picodillos of my home. I am writing instructions on how everything works: and paste them on the appliances, so that when I arrive next year, I will know what a circle means as opposed to a plus sign on an appliance. It is a learning curve each year, as things work differently and its signage is different. Little sticky notes will be EVERYWHERE. Tiny, little cut up pieces of paper taped to appliances. In all variety of sticky note colors! Signs that Judy lives here. I must say, it is a tedious process for a gal with a short attention span.
Ceiling fans are going up in the PENTHOUSE Mansardo apartment with its angled roofline ceilings. A specially designed pole to have the ceiling fans hang correctly was made. A lot of work, actually. It will make a difference, as heat rises: in keeping the Penthouse cooler in the summertime, and more user-friendly for those of us who are acclimated to air conditioning. Little 'Americana' comforts for the Americans living here.
Like "Press and Seal"! That arrives tomorrow on the flight with the kids.
Have a wonderful Wednesday. Thanks for visiting today.
Smiles,
Judy
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Jewels of the lake and of my ankle
Martedi, Tuesday, July 30, 2013
I should have known about the Italian palate. I should have known after 25 years of living here: the Italians ONLY love Italian food. Plain, simple. NO goo. Enjoying each foodstuff as a separate jewel which needs no primping.
I fixed an 'all American' dinner, as best one can do without such American staples as sour cream for baked potato. At any rate: not one Italian opted for- my home made version of sour cream, or chives on their potato. One chose pancetta bits , my bacon bit replacement. I also sauteed onions which caramelized along with funghi (mushrooms) ala butter and garlic. Needless to say: I ate those solo with my filet. My one success of prosituting a 'pure menu' : was roasting and slicing almonds which were added to the green beans with of course: butter and garlic. Not much. Just a hint. Yeah, for ONE dish. The filet, well peppered, salted and of course with garlic..... was eaten with gusto. I was told never to salt a filet prior to cooking it, as it robs the meat of its juiciness. Gotta love the Italians! They do know their food. Topping off the menu was music by Lee Ann Rimes and a CD with Liza Minelli and Robert de Niro... with all songs "New York".
Next year: hambergers! and cole slaw.
After a big terrential rain, the lake is at its most glorious. The rain cleans the air, leaving it crisp, bright, colorful and utterly sparkling. This morning I peered out from my window onto the lake, and saw a lake alive with white caps. Tons and tons of them. This is a lake with a life of its own: continually transporting folks on all kinds of boats, hydrofoils and car ferries as in days of old. No bridges to compromise the incredible natural beautiful which beckons folks from near, far and over the centuries. The air is fresh, not hot, not cold and the sun is shining brightly among us.
Went for a morning passagiata.... stroll into the village, stopping at Fusi Sfusi. Love that name. (Pronounced "Fooz ee SFooz ee") It is fun to say and the gal who owns it is a new friend of this summer, Nadia. She has such a warm, friendly and happy disposition. She glows. Of course, being the froth junkie that I am: I ordered my favorite "Latte macchiato". Another regular, Anna came in and she is becoming a new friend. Anna asked Nadia about the last few days, and Nadia signed with the 'heaviness of the last few days.' Her husband had a bad back and needs Nadia to walk him anywhere. I know what that feels like after having spent a year - 25 years ago, NOT walking! Then, she said that her 15 year old daughter may need to have some screws put into her shoulder. But, Nadia is not a negative person.
I told her the story of when I broke my ankle- 8 years ago. I have no concept of time, so I really haven't a clue of how many years ago it was. I fell over a dog gate over the Christmas holidays and CRUNCH... my foot was caddywhompus. At any rate, I had a plate put in my ankle and after two years of FEELING it , decided to have the metal plate which was 7 screws LONG removed. Since that broken ankle cost more than $20,000 in medical bills: I decided not to throw away the plate. I took it to the jeweler who put in 7 little diamonds in each screw hole and made it into a pin. I looked like a 7 star general. The plate even has the registration number printed on. So, although that pin is not worth much money, I think of it as my $20,000 pin. Nadia loved that story. I told her if we are going to spend our time on earth breathing: why not do it with a SMILE. The amount of time doesn't change: just the quality. To which Nadia responded "I love your philosophy of life." No wonder she is my new friend.
I am now back at my home.... looking out into the lake and the mountains are in view on the other side.
The water is ALIGHT with sparkles.... there is so much movement from this morning's white caps, that is is glistening aloud. It is taking my breath away, actually. The tops of the mountains still have little valleys of snow where no trees live. The green is like a deep emerald green velvet, with patches of lime green terraces of grass or with dark green triangles, indicating the peaks and angles of the mountain. Of course, there are palm trees, just in good measure- to make the picture, a stunning one. The cypress and palms grow vertically and stately and emphasize that I live in a vertical world here in Italy.
I live in a most horizontal world in Florida.
Happy Tuesday and smiles, as always
Judy
I should have known about the Italian palate. I should have known after 25 years of living here: the Italians ONLY love Italian food. Plain, simple. NO goo. Enjoying each foodstuff as a separate jewel which needs no primping.
I fixed an 'all American' dinner, as best one can do without such American staples as sour cream for baked potato. At any rate: not one Italian opted for- my home made version of sour cream, or chives on their potato. One chose pancetta bits , my bacon bit replacement. I also sauteed onions which caramelized along with funghi (mushrooms) ala butter and garlic. Needless to say: I ate those solo with my filet. My one success of prosituting a 'pure menu' : was roasting and slicing almonds which were added to the green beans with of course: butter and garlic. Not much. Just a hint. Yeah, for ONE dish. The filet, well peppered, salted and of course with garlic..... was eaten with gusto. I was told never to salt a filet prior to cooking it, as it robs the meat of its juiciness. Gotta love the Italians! They do know their food. Topping off the menu was music by Lee Ann Rimes and a CD with Liza Minelli and Robert de Niro... with all songs "New York".
Next year: hambergers! and cole slaw.
After a big terrential rain, the lake is at its most glorious. The rain cleans the air, leaving it crisp, bright, colorful and utterly sparkling. This morning I peered out from my window onto the lake, and saw a lake alive with white caps. Tons and tons of them. This is a lake with a life of its own: continually transporting folks on all kinds of boats, hydrofoils and car ferries as in days of old. No bridges to compromise the incredible natural beautiful which beckons folks from near, far and over the centuries. The air is fresh, not hot, not cold and the sun is shining brightly among us.
Went for a morning passagiata.... stroll into the village, stopping at Fusi Sfusi. Love that name. (Pronounced "Fooz ee SFooz ee") It is fun to say and the gal who owns it is a new friend of this summer, Nadia. She has such a warm, friendly and happy disposition. She glows. Of course, being the froth junkie that I am: I ordered my favorite "Latte macchiato". Another regular, Anna came in and she is becoming a new friend. Anna asked Nadia about the last few days, and Nadia signed with the 'heaviness of the last few days.' Her husband had a bad back and needs Nadia to walk him anywhere. I know what that feels like after having spent a year - 25 years ago, NOT walking! Then, she said that her 15 year old daughter may need to have some screws put into her shoulder. But, Nadia is not a negative person.
I told her the story of when I broke my ankle- 8 years ago. I have no concept of time, so I really haven't a clue of how many years ago it was. I fell over a dog gate over the Christmas holidays and CRUNCH... my foot was caddywhompus. At any rate, I had a plate put in my ankle and after two years of FEELING it , decided to have the metal plate which was 7 screws LONG removed. Since that broken ankle cost more than $20,000 in medical bills: I decided not to throw away the plate. I took it to the jeweler who put in 7 little diamonds in each screw hole and made it into a pin. I looked like a 7 star general. The plate even has the registration number printed on. So, although that pin is not worth much money, I think of it as my $20,000 pin. Nadia loved that story. I told her if we are going to spend our time on earth breathing: why not do it with a SMILE. The amount of time doesn't change: just the quality. To which Nadia responded "I love your philosophy of life." No wonder she is my new friend.
I am now back at my home.... looking out into the lake and the mountains are in view on the other side.
The water is ALIGHT with sparkles.... there is so much movement from this morning's white caps, that is is glistening aloud. It is taking my breath away, actually. The tops of the mountains still have little valleys of snow where no trees live. The green is like a deep emerald green velvet, with patches of lime green terraces of grass or with dark green triangles, indicating the peaks and angles of the mountain. Of course, there are palm trees, just in good measure- to make the picture, a stunning one. The cypress and palms grow vertically and stately and emphasize that I live in a vertical world here in Italy.
I live in a most horizontal world in Florida.
Happy Tuesday and smiles, as always
Judy
Monday, July 29, 2013
Rain, American dinner, Barbies and mountain men
Lunedi, Monday, July 29th, 2013
Yesterday, as I wandered the promenade and lakefront visiting the little stalls at the marcchetino... I spotted two more OLD IRONS, made of IRON, of course. And, voila! They came home with me as TWO MORE Ferma Porta (door-stops) The Red Cross had set up a booth, so I got to donate and procure.
Woke up this morning to a lake, where the other side was invisible. It was like living inside a cloud, but on the ground. It was a big gray curtain. And, then of course it rained cats and dogs for 30 minutes. I guess that means I don't have to water my rosemary which sits on my terrace. Little gifts from heaven. I was reminded of a client I had years ago. Each and every year she would go to San Francisco. Stay at the Fairmont Hotel. And, always wanted a corner room in the tower- the new section. After a few years, I asked her WHY corner room in the new tower. She expressed with such enthusiasm..... that the corner room had huge windows which gave a 180 degree of San Francisco. I was thrilled by that thought. So, years later I took the kids to Yosemite for their famous BRACEBRIDGE dinner at the Ahwanee hotel, and stopped in San Francisco. I reserved that corner room in the new tower so that my kids could take in the beauty of this marvelous city. We awoke, as I did this morning: in a CLOUD. You couldn't see ANYTHING from any window. We were in a sea of fog. You couldn't see another building. I had to laugh. Life is great. And funny.
I am making an ALL AMERICAN dinner this evening. Filet, salad, green beans, baked potato with sour cream and chives and bacon? Pancetta. I am not sure how that will work out: Pancetta is eaten raw. I asked the butcher about cooking it and he looked at me as if I had two heads. I will grill onions and mushrooms. NO PASTA. But, a roll. I am having Italians over and this is my ritual. Once a summer, I try to find something ALL AMERICAN for my Italians: pickled okra one year! I am trying to figure out how to make sour cream. I got Philadelphia cream cheese and may just melt it. Well, challenges for challenged.
I got to thinking about my summer during the rain storm this morning... the folks I have met along the way and the amazing experiences I have drunk in. One of those such experiences was going up to the mountain above BREGLIA and to a one room rustic home, lived in by a Giancarlo, a Giovani or a Giuseppe- I can't remember. There were 6 guys and me. The men all wore t-shirts without sleeves, and really short shorts. During the afternoon, they took off their non t-shirt, shirt. The men made pizzoccheri, over an open fire with a pot which hung overhead. The best part for me is when I discovered a naked barbie-doll hanging from a hook in the corner of the house, next to a picture of Jesus and a fly paper roll. He had taken a pen and painted pubic hair on Barbie. Here, this mountain man- whose wife come to visit on weekends from the town 10 minutes down the mountain.... lives a most rustic life style- with chickens and pigeons out back: and has naked barbie hanging from his wall.
You just have got to love life! You can't make this stuff up.
Years ago when my daughter was a little girl, she must have had at least 30 barbies. Always got them as gifts. She hated barbie dolls. So, one day I walk into my son's room and his ceiling fan was on and turning in circles. When I looked more closely, I noticed that he had decapitated his sisters barbie dolls and hung the barbie heads on the fan blades. It was a sight to behold. I laughed and said "I just hope that this is no precursor to a serial killer in bloom!"
Thank you all.... for visiting my blog. It is meaningful to me and very much appreciated. Keep coming back for more.
Happy Monday
Yesterday, as I wandered the promenade and lakefront visiting the little stalls at the marcchetino... I spotted two more OLD IRONS, made of IRON, of course. And, voila! They came home with me as TWO MORE Ferma Porta (door-stops) The Red Cross had set up a booth, so I got to donate and procure.
Woke up this morning to a lake, where the other side was invisible. It was like living inside a cloud, but on the ground. It was a big gray curtain. And, then of course it rained cats and dogs for 30 minutes. I guess that means I don't have to water my rosemary which sits on my terrace. Little gifts from heaven. I was reminded of a client I had years ago. Each and every year she would go to San Francisco. Stay at the Fairmont Hotel. And, always wanted a corner room in the tower- the new section. After a few years, I asked her WHY corner room in the new tower. She expressed with such enthusiasm..... that the corner room had huge windows which gave a 180 degree of San Francisco. I was thrilled by that thought. So, years later I took the kids to Yosemite for their famous BRACEBRIDGE dinner at the Ahwanee hotel, and stopped in San Francisco. I reserved that corner room in the new tower so that my kids could take in the beauty of this marvelous city. We awoke, as I did this morning: in a CLOUD. You couldn't see ANYTHING from any window. We were in a sea of fog. You couldn't see another building. I had to laugh. Life is great. And funny.
I am making an ALL AMERICAN dinner this evening. Filet, salad, green beans, baked potato with sour cream and chives and bacon? Pancetta. I am not sure how that will work out: Pancetta is eaten raw. I asked the butcher about cooking it and he looked at me as if I had two heads. I will grill onions and mushrooms. NO PASTA. But, a roll. I am having Italians over and this is my ritual. Once a summer, I try to find something ALL AMERICAN for my Italians: pickled okra one year! I am trying to figure out how to make sour cream. I got Philadelphia cream cheese and may just melt it. Well, challenges for challenged.
I got to thinking about my summer during the rain storm this morning... the folks I have met along the way and the amazing experiences I have drunk in. One of those such experiences was going up to the mountain above BREGLIA and to a one room rustic home, lived in by a Giancarlo, a Giovani or a Giuseppe- I can't remember. There were 6 guys and me. The men all wore t-shirts without sleeves, and really short shorts. During the afternoon, they took off their non t-shirt, shirt. The men made pizzoccheri, over an open fire with a pot which hung overhead. The best part for me is when I discovered a naked barbie-doll hanging from a hook in the corner of the house, next to a picture of Jesus and a fly paper roll. He had taken a pen and painted pubic hair on Barbie. Here, this mountain man- whose wife come to visit on weekends from the town 10 minutes down the mountain.... lives a most rustic life style- with chickens and pigeons out back: and has naked barbie hanging from his wall.
You just have got to love life! You can't make this stuff up.
Years ago when my daughter was a little girl, she must have had at least 30 barbies. Always got them as gifts. She hated barbie dolls. So, one day I walk into my son's room and his ceiling fan was on and turning in circles. When I looked more closely, I noticed that he had decapitated his sisters barbie dolls and hung the barbie heads on the fan blades. It was a sight to behold. I laughed and said "I just hope that this is no precursor to a serial killer in bloom!"
Thank you all.... for visiting my blog. It is meaningful to me and very much appreciated. Keep coming back for more.
Happy Monday
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Bringing home the spese groceries)
Sunday, July 28, 2013
The other day I decided to do a 'little shop'. That is AMERICAN SPEAK for less than a shopping cart worth- not an Italian little shop where you might buy 5 leaves off of a head of lettuce. I had already had the experience of carrying for too much from the grocery back to my home, as it is a 5 minute walk empty handed.... and a long 20 minute walk, weighted down by too many temptations. After having carried 8 heavy plastic bags dangling from my arms: I decided I had learned a lesson. The next time I would take my "cadillac" of shopping carts sold to OLD ITALIAN LADIES with me to the grocery. One lesson learned: I took the cart. Second lesson to learn: don't fill it with a 30 liters of bottles... all filled of course, plus a cauliflower, baked potatos and cleaning supplies. My little cadillac cart carried everything, but it was so heavy, I had to stop at least 15 times...en route home, broke into a sweat, and decided to make two or three trips to the grocer as opposed to ONE BIG one. Hard fought lessons in the realm of trivia, but learned nonetheless.
This morning is not bright and sunny. It is a lovely soft shade of gray, muting any yellow of the sun or blue of the sky and lake. Just as I thought I had a biological clock adjusting to ALERTING ME it is "Friday" as I would see the white tents of the marchetino appear: it is Sunday and I am looking at another marketplace. This little town is trying to confuse me, as I would see today as FRIDAY MARKET day.... but NO: it is Sunday and summer market is on Sunday, too. If they add any more, I will really have a challenging time, setting my watch!
I finished a roll of packing Saran Wrap yesterday and several left-over rolls of packing tape. I created a bag for Carlyle to take back with her: bubble wrapped and saran wrapped treasure of her past. I accomplished the same thing for a Bag that I will take back with me to George, as I will stop in Boston before returning to Sarasota. Both my kids have storage space: and this is all stuff that would go to them.... so, they get to have it NOW. If they want it or NOT. Parenting can be so insistent!
Between packing, and writing... I had a relatively lazy day, going to bed at 9:00am. On an Italian Saturday night- that is when folks are just finishing dinner and going out into the life of the town, my night was a non-event, but perfect.
I am enjoying doing this Blog. It allows me to paint a picture of my multi faceted days with words. I had a minor in fine arts in college- and think visually. As a travel agent, I had to talk visually. Now, I get to think and write visually. I am also fascinated about who would find this blog unless you knew me. I am a Blogging virgin of sorts. So, I am not worldly in this arena. How would someone in Mexico .... find the blog? I will ferret out the answer, but am surprised that my words could reach so far.... and to folks whom I do not know. Tickled, fascinated, humbled, and excited. I am not just talking to my computer screen and myself. It is an interesting world out there in cyber space. It is one I am just beginning to explore
Tiziana, my Italian sister may invite me for a boat ride with some of her clients for a swim in the middle of the lake. I am drawn.... and wanting to dive in. But, my swimming training has taught me never to swim alone. So, if that happens today, there will be a big GRIN on this wet face today. If not: I will keep longing, and savor the wait.
I will of course.... head down to the marcchetino, for a little 'look see' and passagiata. How can you not love life along the lake?
Happy Sunday with smiles, as ever
Judy
The other day I decided to do a 'little shop'. That is AMERICAN SPEAK for less than a shopping cart worth- not an Italian little shop where you might buy 5 leaves off of a head of lettuce. I had already had the experience of carrying for too much from the grocery back to my home, as it is a 5 minute walk empty handed.... and a long 20 minute walk, weighted down by too many temptations. After having carried 8 heavy plastic bags dangling from my arms: I decided I had learned a lesson. The next time I would take my "cadillac" of shopping carts sold to OLD ITALIAN LADIES with me to the grocery. One lesson learned: I took the cart. Second lesson to learn: don't fill it with a 30 liters of bottles... all filled of course, plus a cauliflower, baked potatos and cleaning supplies. My little cadillac cart carried everything, but it was so heavy, I had to stop at least 15 times...en route home, broke into a sweat, and decided to make two or three trips to the grocer as opposed to ONE BIG one. Hard fought lessons in the realm of trivia, but learned nonetheless.
This morning is not bright and sunny. It is a lovely soft shade of gray, muting any yellow of the sun or blue of the sky and lake. Just as I thought I had a biological clock adjusting to ALERTING ME it is "Friday" as I would see the white tents of the marchetino appear: it is Sunday and I am looking at another marketplace. This little town is trying to confuse me, as I would see today as FRIDAY MARKET day.... but NO: it is Sunday and summer market is on Sunday, too. If they add any more, I will really have a challenging time, setting my watch!
I finished a roll of packing Saran Wrap yesterday and several left-over rolls of packing tape. I created a bag for Carlyle to take back with her: bubble wrapped and saran wrapped treasure of her past. I accomplished the same thing for a Bag that I will take back with me to George, as I will stop in Boston before returning to Sarasota. Both my kids have storage space: and this is all stuff that would go to them.... so, they get to have it NOW. If they want it or NOT. Parenting can be so insistent!
Between packing, and writing... I had a relatively lazy day, going to bed at 9:00am. On an Italian Saturday night- that is when folks are just finishing dinner and going out into the life of the town, my night was a non-event, but perfect.
I am enjoying doing this Blog. It allows me to paint a picture of my multi faceted days with words. I had a minor in fine arts in college- and think visually. As a travel agent, I had to talk visually. Now, I get to think and write visually. I am also fascinated about who would find this blog unless you knew me. I am a Blogging virgin of sorts. So, I am not worldly in this arena. How would someone in Mexico .... find the blog? I will ferret out the answer, but am surprised that my words could reach so far.... and to folks whom I do not know. Tickled, fascinated, humbled, and excited. I am not just talking to my computer screen and myself. It is an interesting world out there in cyber space. It is one I am just beginning to explore
Tiziana, my Italian sister may invite me for a boat ride with some of her clients for a swim in the middle of the lake. I am drawn.... and wanting to dive in. But, my swimming training has taught me never to swim alone. So, if that happens today, there will be a big GRIN on this wet face today. If not: I will keep longing, and savor the wait.
I will of course.... head down to the marcchetino, for a little 'look see' and passagiata. How can you not love life along the lake?
Happy Sunday with smiles, as ever
Judy
Lots of FERMA PORTA! Door Stops
Saturday, Sabato, July 27
Last evening was alight with Italians and lots of other nationalities ambling the piazza and promenade- making their passagiata ( stroll) with the Mercattino. White tents with white lights and the buzz of folks trying to sell their wares, and passersby wanting a piece of the action.
I take my stroll early in the evening.... before dinner, just as the market is being set up. I found one of my favorite stalls, a collectibles table run by Walter (pronounced VAHL TAIR). I have been buying from him each week for the past month. Always the same kind of thing: FERMA PORTA. Door-stops. Not really door stops- usually an OLD IRON IRON. Weighty, and useful as a door stop. I have them in a variety of colors: rust, black with gold, silver with gold, and more rust. I have been on a MISSION:
Italians love doors in houses. NO OPEN CONCEPT. The walls are thick and to dismantle old homes for an open concept is not something embraced. Doors. Always GLASS-SEE THROUGH doors for the bathrooms! What is THAT ABOUT? It would be the ONE room that I wouldn't want a transparent door.
The other GLASS DOORS are to the BEDROOMS. Really? I must say that I think they have it backwards. But, what do I know, I am just a silly American interloping in someone else's country. I counted my doors and WINDOWS, because they open and close like doors. With the windows and doors open: the breezes dance ever so wonderfully through the rooms, cooling it perfectly and making it refreshingly lovely. I am an American. I keep my windows and doors open. Italians close their doors and shutters to keep it cool. I need my light: so that is never a tactic I would use. But, the other day- an Italian friend commented that "You have all your windows open!" That was a novel concept and noticed.
I counted: In the Penthouse Mansardo apartment there are 13 doors. 13 door-stops. 13 FERMA PORTA
In the Sogno Terazze apartment there are 23 doors and 18 windows. That is 41 door-stops. 41 FERMA PORTA! A whopping total of 54 ferma porta. A veritable mission, I would say!
The day and bright and sunny and warm. FA CALDO : "I am hot" is the PRONOUNCEMENT from the Italians. When summer was yet to arrived, they would complain and ask where is ESTATE (summer)
Now that summer is here, they complain "FA CALDO" I am hot! It is a ritual, as it is repeated summer after summer. I am currently responding to those claims "It is summer, after all" (E estate). I walked into the piazza and had my favorite LATTE MACCHIATO: a shot of expresso in a tall glass with the rest filled up with FROTHED MILK. How I like my froth.
I am starting to wrap those things which will go home to Carlyle, George and me back to the states. They are dozens of photos which were in the old NIDO SEGRETO. I am clearing out these two houses, so it is easier to take care of. Perging happens. Photos taken throughout their lifetime... and I want them to have them. So,
I am back into 'bubble wrap' and saran wrap and tape. Again.
Cheers for a great Saturday,
Judy
Last evening was alight with Italians and lots of other nationalities ambling the piazza and promenade- making their passagiata ( stroll) with the Mercattino. White tents with white lights and the buzz of folks trying to sell their wares, and passersby wanting a piece of the action.
I take my stroll early in the evening.... before dinner, just as the market is being set up. I found one of my favorite stalls, a collectibles table run by Walter (pronounced VAHL TAIR). I have been buying from him each week for the past month. Always the same kind of thing: FERMA PORTA. Door-stops. Not really door stops- usually an OLD IRON IRON. Weighty, and useful as a door stop. I have them in a variety of colors: rust, black with gold, silver with gold, and more rust. I have been on a MISSION:
Italians love doors in houses. NO OPEN CONCEPT. The walls are thick and to dismantle old homes for an open concept is not something embraced. Doors. Always GLASS-SEE THROUGH doors for the bathrooms! What is THAT ABOUT? It would be the ONE room that I wouldn't want a transparent door.
The other GLASS DOORS are to the BEDROOMS. Really? I must say that I think they have it backwards. But, what do I know, I am just a silly American interloping in someone else's country. I counted my doors and WINDOWS, because they open and close like doors. With the windows and doors open: the breezes dance ever so wonderfully through the rooms, cooling it perfectly and making it refreshingly lovely. I am an American. I keep my windows and doors open. Italians close their doors and shutters to keep it cool. I need my light: so that is never a tactic I would use. But, the other day- an Italian friend commented that "You have all your windows open!" That was a novel concept and noticed.
I counted: In the Penthouse Mansardo apartment there are 13 doors. 13 door-stops. 13 FERMA PORTA
In the Sogno Terazze apartment there are 23 doors and 18 windows. That is 41 door-stops. 41 FERMA PORTA! A whopping total of 54 ferma porta. A veritable mission, I would say!
The day and bright and sunny and warm. FA CALDO : "I am hot" is the PRONOUNCEMENT from the Italians. When summer was yet to arrived, they would complain and ask where is ESTATE (summer)
Now that summer is here, they complain "FA CALDO" I am hot! It is a ritual, as it is repeated summer after summer. I am currently responding to those claims "It is summer, after all" (E estate). I walked into the piazza and had my favorite LATTE MACCHIATO: a shot of expresso in a tall glass with the rest filled up with FROTHED MILK. How I like my froth.
I am starting to wrap those things which will go home to Carlyle, George and me back to the states. They are dozens of photos which were in the old NIDO SEGRETO. I am clearing out these two houses, so it is easier to take care of. Perging happens. Photos taken throughout their lifetime... and I want them to have them. So,
I am back into 'bubble wrap' and saran wrap and tape. Again.
Cheers for a great Saturday,
Judy
Friday, July 26, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
On one side, my home is located across the street from the village hardware FERRAMENTA. It is like the old home-town hardware stores with the scent of tools, rubber, wood.... spices of the male world, so to speak. It is not easy to find, and yet all of Menaggio will cross its threshhold. It is the only hardware store and they are characters. I watch from my KItchen balcony as all Menaggio Mankind enters across the street. I never thought there might be stories and a backdrop for great story telling found in a local hardware: now I know. Fabrizio is one of the two grown sons who work there. He is a breath of fresh air. Sweet, cute, lanky and a personality that exudes of loving life ! I will be greeted in Italian "Ciao Judy. What a wonderful day. The sun. It is great!" His father , Tino is a bit of a dirty old man. He keeps the books and watches the sons. He has made reference several times to my 'top shelf' as I like to refer to my breasts. I try not to be offended, because I want to get along with the one hardware store folks across the street. I want to be a non event in the indignant department in this village. One day, he said in italian "Nice balconies" I said "che- what?". He said he was not be rude , but that is a 'saying' in italian that refers to a woman's breasts! Then, he said "others call it a BIG PLAYGROUND. But, that is not as nice." So, he really called mine a big playground! You know where his brain went for more than a split second. I laughed to ease any potential of tension.
Later on that evening, I ran into a twenty something gal who is 4 feet 10 inches with the boobs the size of the Queen Mary's ships' bumpers. I said "If I have nice balconies, then YOU HAVE SPACIOUS TERACES!"
At any rate, I love that life passes by me each and every day- with varying vantage points. I like the feel, the texture of it. A picture is painted in front of me daily! What a treat.
The other night, I wandered into the piazza, which is a 2 minute walk from my home. An American true 2 minute walk. NOT a European 2 minute walk, which really means 10 minutes. At any rate, as I entered the piazza -there was a band set up. BIG BAND. I knew one of the band members, and went up before the concert to say "HI" and let him know he had a fan in the audience. It was just happenstance. How delightful. I got a glass of white wine from one of the local bars along the piazza and stood, somewhat hidden on the sidelines just people watching. The little ones running in the piazza, with ice cream cones... or just enjoying a summers carefree eve of childhood. I watched one German family- a father, mother and young daughter with their golden retriever. They were a handsome family, and it was fun to watch the nuances of their communications. There was a pubescent young boy/man? sitting next to their girl. You could tell he didn't know where to put his arm.... so he put it out between his and hers. Getting as close as he could without having to worry about rejection. She sat as far to the other side with her arms cross: lest they might touch in that intersection between his and her seat. Such young angst. Then, there were two little boys- brothers. When the music was playing, the younger (4 years?) was sitting there the entire time with his fingers in his earlobes to block out the sound. Meanwhile, his legs were bouncing with the beat of the music. He was annoying his 6 year old brother by trying to kiss him. The father was fabulous in his response to the behavior.... Not saying a word, he wrapped his arms in his youngest sons arms... as he stood behind him. It was lovely. I was departing, and spotted Diego, so I went over and sat by him. The band played snippets of an amazing variety of American music: from Cole Potter, Louis Armstrong, Broadway show tunes, Porgy and Bess, ....... I just loved loved loved it. I was finally the ONLY ONE in the audience who knew ALL the songs. I have been in the sea of an audience where it was ME who was the only one who didn't know the music. I hummed along and felt uplifted and glad I had just happened upon this event.
Last night I went with a group of new and old friends to Isola Comacina ( pronounced "EEZ OH LAH COH MAH CHEE NAH" ) the only island in the middle of the lake. It was fabulous, leaning into the curves, feeling the wind in your face, smelling the flowers that we passed.... i totally get the thrill. my head never allowed me to go there as traveling with a motor cycle or motor bike or moped makes no sense in terms of safety. Intellectually I have been committed to that. But, on these roads.... it is magical. When you snow ski, you feel as if you are part of the mountain. Last night I felt like I was part of the Path, the VIA.
A beautiful boat picked us up from the LIDO of OSSUCCIO. None of us, including the Italians had ever been there. I have always accessed Isola Comacina from the town of SALA COMACINA.
You walk down this very long, slowly steeping stone street. The Lido has grass, instead of beach- which is the softest blanket. Cool and crisp. There was a restaurant, lots of stone tables and benches, and access to the lake by stone steps. The water was a perfect temperature and I long to go in. I will not swim alone, so I will wait for Carlyle and Casey. From here: this sexy boat (like private taxi boats in Venice) it was a 3 minute ride to the island, with lake breezes. Two drinks and a buffet were included. I had prosecco. It was a gravel terrace with tables and chairs along the waterfront of the island. Some kind of stupid metal music was being played by a too young disc jockey.... The food was an interesting mix: carrots with vinegar-sort of.......pasta tuna salad with tomatoes, a round of parmesean (sp) cheese... which was cool. They cut up the cheese into finger sized bits, and served it from the WAX WHEEL, that was used as the serving bowl. Tipped on its side, the top was cut, so that the bowl could also 'roll a bit'. There were half large onions, broiled with balsalmic venegar. And, potato chips. Always potato chips. . 9:30pm, as the night was upon us, and the lights along the lake side twinkled, we took our quick boat trip back. Strapping on my helmut, My friend and I went about 10 years in his motorbike before it went kaput. Gotta love life.
I was transported back in another kind of motorbike back to my home. Chariot ride successfully completed,I again ambled into the piazza. 5 minutes of walking in the fresh air, greeting friends and becoming one with my village.
Hope that yours is a great day. I never proof read my writing. I know that there are a few mistakes, but the print today seems small and I am too lazy to futz with it.
smiles,
judy
On one side, my home is located across the street from the village hardware FERRAMENTA. It is like the old home-town hardware stores with the scent of tools, rubber, wood.... spices of the male world, so to speak. It is not easy to find, and yet all of Menaggio will cross its threshhold. It is the only hardware store and they are characters. I watch from my KItchen balcony as all Menaggio Mankind enters across the street. I never thought there might be stories and a backdrop for great story telling found in a local hardware: now I know. Fabrizio is one of the two grown sons who work there. He is a breath of fresh air. Sweet, cute, lanky and a personality that exudes of loving life ! I will be greeted in Italian "Ciao Judy. What a wonderful day. The sun. It is great!" His father , Tino is a bit of a dirty old man. He keeps the books and watches the sons. He has made reference several times to my 'top shelf' as I like to refer to my breasts. I try not to be offended, because I want to get along with the one hardware store folks across the street. I want to be a non event in the indignant department in this village. One day, he said in italian "Nice balconies" I said "che- what?". He said he was not be rude , but that is a 'saying' in italian that refers to a woman's breasts! Then, he said "others call it a BIG PLAYGROUND. But, that is not as nice." So, he really called mine a big playground! You know where his brain went for more than a split second. I laughed to ease any potential of tension.
Later on that evening, I ran into a twenty something gal who is 4 feet 10 inches with the boobs the size of the Queen Mary's ships' bumpers. I said "If I have nice balconies, then YOU HAVE SPACIOUS TERACES!"
At any rate, I love that life passes by me each and every day- with varying vantage points. I like the feel, the texture of it. A picture is painted in front of me daily! What a treat.
The other night, I wandered into the piazza, which is a 2 minute walk from my home. An American true 2 minute walk. NOT a European 2 minute walk, which really means 10 minutes. At any rate, as I entered the piazza -there was a band set up. BIG BAND. I knew one of the band members, and went up before the concert to say "HI" and let him know he had a fan in the audience. It was just happenstance. How delightful. I got a glass of white wine from one of the local bars along the piazza and stood, somewhat hidden on the sidelines just people watching. The little ones running in the piazza, with ice cream cones... or just enjoying a summers carefree eve of childhood. I watched one German family- a father, mother and young daughter with their golden retriever. They were a handsome family, and it was fun to watch the nuances of their communications. There was a pubescent young boy/man? sitting next to their girl. You could tell he didn't know where to put his arm.... so he put it out between his and hers. Getting as close as he could without having to worry about rejection. She sat as far to the other side with her arms cross: lest they might touch in that intersection between his and her seat. Such young angst. Then, there were two little boys- brothers. When the music was playing, the younger (4 years?) was sitting there the entire time with his fingers in his earlobes to block out the sound. Meanwhile, his legs were bouncing with the beat of the music. He was annoying his 6 year old brother by trying to kiss him. The father was fabulous in his response to the behavior.... Not saying a word, he wrapped his arms in his youngest sons arms... as he stood behind him. It was lovely. I was departing, and spotted Diego, so I went over and sat by him. The band played snippets of an amazing variety of American music: from Cole Potter, Louis Armstrong, Broadway show tunes, Porgy and Bess, ....... I just loved loved loved it. I was finally the ONLY ONE in the audience who knew ALL the songs. I have been in the sea of an audience where it was ME who was the only one who didn't know the music. I hummed along and felt uplifted and glad I had just happened upon this event.
Last night I went with a group of new and old friends to Isola Comacina ( pronounced "EEZ OH LAH COH MAH CHEE NAH" ) the only island in the middle of the lake. It was fabulous, leaning into the curves, feeling the wind in your face, smelling the flowers that we passed.... i totally get the thrill. my head never allowed me to go there as traveling with a motor cycle or motor bike or moped makes no sense in terms of safety. Intellectually I have been committed to that. But, on these roads.... it is magical. When you snow ski, you feel as if you are part of the mountain. Last night I felt like I was part of the Path, the VIA.
A beautiful boat picked us up from the LIDO of OSSUCCIO. None of us, including the Italians had ever been there. I have always accessed Isola Comacina from the town of SALA COMACINA.
You walk down this very long, slowly steeping stone street. The Lido has grass, instead of beach- which is the softest blanket. Cool and crisp. There was a restaurant, lots of stone tables and benches, and access to the lake by stone steps. The water was a perfect temperature and I long to go in. I will not swim alone, so I will wait for Carlyle and Casey. From here: this sexy boat (like private taxi boats in Venice) it was a 3 minute ride to the island, with lake breezes. Two drinks and a buffet were included. I had prosecco. It was a gravel terrace with tables and chairs along the waterfront of the island. Some kind of stupid metal music was being played by a too young disc jockey.... The food was an interesting mix: carrots with vinegar-sort of.......pasta tuna salad with tomatoes, a round of parmesean (sp) cheese... which was cool. They cut up the cheese into finger sized bits, and served it from the WAX WHEEL, that was used as the serving bowl. Tipped on its side, the top was cut, so that the bowl could also 'roll a bit'. There were half large onions, broiled with balsalmic venegar. And, potato chips. Always potato chips. . 9:30pm, as the night was upon us, and the lights along the lake side twinkled, we took our quick boat trip back. Strapping on my helmut, My friend and I went about 10 years in his motorbike before it went kaput. Gotta love life.
I was transported back in another kind of motorbike back to my home. Chariot ride successfully completed,I again ambled into the piazza. 5 minutes of walking in the fresh air, greeting friends and becoming one with my village.
Hope that yours is a great day. I never proof read my writing. I know that there are a few mistakes, but the print today seems small and I am too lazy to futz with it.
smiles,
judy
Thursday, July 25, 2013
breathing in the lakle
Thursday, July 25, 2013
I am breathing in my lake while I have been transported by Ana OXA's song "CARUSO".
Last night the moon was shining so brightly. The mountains were a variety of black and gray pearlescence. There was such richness in the dark hues with the moon allowing everything to shimmer: like a wonderful satin woven with metallic silver threads.
The world passes in front of my garden..... and yet tall hedges circle the property, giving a sense of privacy and distance from the outside world. The sun is happy today, the lake calm and a gentle breeze passes through my home.
There is a gathering this evening on the only island in the middle of the lake called "ISOLA COMACINA" There is a roman ruin, a restaurant and a kiosk. When the kids were little, we'd take a little motor boat and swim there. There were places to wander.... for a tiny itty bitty island. I will go on a motor bike, despite my promise to never ride on one. I want to retrace the route George took on his motor bike, on a motor bike myself. It seems strange, but I want to feel the sensation that he had while traversing the curvy corners of the lake. I have driven it many times in a car. But, that is not what I am after: I am after the FEELING and I want to see the lake with those eyes. An aperativo and appetizers this evening. A bit of socializing. In a beautiful spot. What could be better for a summer's evening than that?
warmth and smiles for a Great Giovedi
Judy
I am breathing in my lake while I have been transported by Ana OXA's song "CARUSO".
Last night the moon was shining so brightly. The mountains were a variety of black and gray pearlescence. There was such richness in the dark hues with the moon allowing everything to shimmer: like a wonderful satin woven with metallic silver threads.
The world passes in front of my garden..... and yet tall hedges circle the property, giving a sense of privacy and distance from the outside world. The sun is happy today, the lake calm and a gentle breeze passes through my home.
There is a gathering this evening on the only island in the middle of the lake called "ISOLA COMACINA" There is a roman ruin, a restaurant and a kiosk. When the kids were little, we'd take a little motor boat and swim there. There were places to wander.... for a tiny itty bitty island. I will go on a motor bike, despite my promise to never ride on one. I want to retrace the route George took on his motor bike, on a motor bike myself. It seems strange, but I want to feel the sensation that he had while traversing the curvy corners of the lake. I have driven it many times in a car. But, that is not what I am after: I am after the FEELING and I want to see the lake with those eyes. An aperativo and appetizers this evening. A bit of socializing. In a beautiful spot. What could be better for a summer's evening than that?
warmth and smiles for a Great Giovedi
Judy
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Full moon, grandine and a fountain
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Monday night was incredible. The day was perfect, and the evening appropriately dramatic. A fullish moon loomed overhead and shined brightly through voluminous clouds. In just a few short minutes, the breezes came up- swishing and rustling sounds much like the winds of a hurricane. Then, lashing rain and huge raindrops. The third course of this feast brought GRANDINE - large baseball sized balls of ice which drop from the sky like hail from hell. The first time I had ever experienced Grandine, I was in a brand new car with Tiziana ( my adopted Italian sister) on the highway when the grandine started to hail down on the vehicle with huge thuds. There was nowhere to hide. Finally, we stopped under an overpass, and her vehicle looked like it had a bad case of acne. Well, that was the kind of fury in the evening. Only for an hour. No damage, but lots of fury. I had ANA OXA playing on my stereo. LOUDLY. When she sings "CARUSO', my soul is carried into the stratosphere- I am taken away. Transported.
I went to sleep with the large french doors and windows wide open to the elements and the full moon which shined through. It was glorious
I was looking outside my window and spent 10 minutes watching 4 young Italian men in front of the fountain which sits on the promenade just passed my garden. They were a bit drunk and having fun taking turns with 'dares' along that fountain- from walking the rim, to who knows? That fountain is the center of attention and pleasure for many- including these twenty somethings. In the day, it is a bit of 'joy', as little children take their shoes off and run around inside the fountain, giggling. Or, it might be a parent- just grabbing their little one before he or she dives in with their shoes. Or, an old man, cupping a handful of water to quench a thirst..... or something wanting to wash their hands. A perfect spot to watch life.
Yesterday was a day of small tasks and things accomplished. Pinuccia, my 'donna da servizio'- cleaning gal for over 17 years was here. When I had upwards of a dozen kids in the summer, Pinuccia was cleaning daily. Now, as a solo person, she comes every few weeks. I miss our conversations, as she is where I learned to speak Italian, I think. She is the town gossip, and cleaning my home over these couple of decades has been like a living soap opera for her. A film, of sorts- with all kinds of characters. The first jew she had ever met. A black man. A slew of folks who have been in my life in all kinds of ways. I have satisfied her thirst of topics!
Hoping that yours is a fabulous Mercoledi,
smiles,
Judy
Monday night was incredible. The day was perfect, and the evening appropriately dramatic. A fullish moon loomed overhead and shined brightly through voluminous clouds. In just a few short minutes, the breezes came up- swishing and rustling sounds much like the winds of a hurricane. Then, lashing rain and huge raindrops. The third course of this feast brought GRANDINE - large baseball sized balls of ice which drop from the sky like hail from hell. The first time I had ever experienced Grandine, I was in a brand new car with Tiziana ( my adopted Italian sister) on the highway when the grandine started to hail down on the vehicle with huge thuds. There was nowhere to hide. Finally, we stopped under an overpass, and her vehicle looked like it had a bad case of acne. Well, that was the kind of fury in the evening. Only for an hour. No damage, but lots of fury. I had ANA OXA playing on my stereo. LOUDLY. When she sings "CARUSO', my soul is carried into the stratosphere- I am taken away. Transported.
I went to sleep with the large french doors and windows wide open to the elements and the full moon which shined through. It was glorious
I was looking outside my window and spent 10 minutes watching 4 young Italian men in front of the fountain which sits on the promenade just passed my garden. They were a bit drunk and having fun taking turns with 'dares' along that fountain- from walking the rim, to who knows? That fountain is the center of attention and pleasure for many- including these twenty somethings. In the day, it is a bit of 'joy', as little children take their shoes off and run around inside the fountain, giggling. Or, it might be a parent- just grabbing their little one before he or she dives in with their shoes. Or, an old man, cupping a handful of water to quench a thirst..... or something wanting to wash their hands. A perfect spot to watch life.
Yesterday was a day of small tasks and things accomplished. Pinuccia, my 'donna da servizio'- cleaning gal for over 17 years was here. When I had upwards of a dozen kids in the summer, Pinuccia was cleaning daily. Now, as a solo person, she comes every few weeks. I miss our conversations, as she is where I learned to speak Italian, I think. She is the town gossip, and cleaning my home over these couple of decades has been like a living soap opera for her. A film, of sorts- with all kinds of characters. The first jew she had ever met. A black man. A slew of folks who have been in my life in all kinds of ways. I have satisfied her thirst of topics!
Hoping that yours is a fabulous Mercoledi,
smiles,
Judy
Monday, July 22, 2013
Monday, July 22, 2013
My husband died 18 years ago today. My life as I had known it, changed. My kids changed. I , certainly changed.
I don't know why I am feeling it more today than in other years. I am not sure I am. I am sure that I am paying attention to it differently this year. This longing. This missing. This dramatic moment when life stops in its track. There are times when I am not aware of the anniversary. (I hate that term, as I usually associate it with good things to remember) of George's passing. But, I ALWAYS know it cellularly. I recognize that this day is different even if my head has not already alerted me to that information. I know it. It is different when I am stateside, as the memories are NOT there. Perhaps, it is because I am in a new house. A new stage in my life. Perhaps it is the CHANGE that prompts me ever so delicately.... and insistently to remember today.
It was exactly as planned. Lella came over with her dog Scott. He was my virgin dog in the house, and he didn't mark his territory at all. I love this Scott. We had a delightful couple of hours , sitting on the kitchen terrace overlooking the lake. At one moment, Lella said "Look at the water, Judy" I looked.
She said "look at the waves which are coming from no where. No boat is anywhere nearby. She continued, "that is strange."
It was strange. It looked like a whale skimming the surface of the water. I simply said "It is George, letting us know that he is here with us." It was a perfect thought.
I had Lella read the first three pages of the manuscript, the Prologue. It is written in English. So, she would read it in English and then say it in Italian. It was a beautiful collaboration. She had tears in her eyes... but, kept saying that the description was amazing. She knows. She was the only other one there with me when I was told that George "e morto". So, it was a beautiful way to begin my day.
I then set to work to see what frames and art will be returning with Carlyle and to George. I had to see how much space it would take and how many pounds it was. going through the hundreds of momentos and photos which will be sent home was a beautiful experience. I found places in both homes for another 10 things to hang. Things, which are not necessarily needed back home and COULD be used here. Yeah: less to pack.
Afterwards, I took a passegiata... looking for biscuits/cookies for Clelia's visit, and looking to purchase some flowers. Stargazer Lillies! I waited 20 minutes for the flower shop before I realized that they were closed on Mondays. I looked at the times posted, but not the 'days'.
Then, I had the most marvelous time with Clelia. She is an angel with one eye. She doesn't see well with that one eye, but has the eye of an artist, still. She used to design clothing in Itlay. I loved the way she spent hours, looking at each detail. She said "You should sell tickets for folks to be able to see your homes, your taste" How sweet. She noticed the intentionally placed framed to mimic the horizontal lines of the headboard. Her enthusiasm and keen sense of observation was delightful. It was a new way for her to get to know me. It is simple: you see my home, you know me.
Diego joined us, and again: but this time, it was me - read the prologue of the manuscript. I read it in english in my head and said it in Italian. Clelia was touched, as so was Diego.
I then scurried to see Camillo: took a ride on his boat to see George's plaque, which is placed on his home on the lakefront. We then cruised in front of Menaggio and Nobiallo- seeing some new villas owned by a Dane and an American. I haven't cruised passed there for a couple of years. Of course, it was cool, passing my villa in Menaggio.
I came home, read the most amazing and touching emails from dear family and friends. I feel filled up. Glad to be alive. Glad to have my friends. My family.
smiles and warmth
Judy
My husband died 18 years ago today. My life as I had known it, changed. My kids changed. I , certainly changed.
I don't know why I am feeling it more today than in other years. I am not sure I am. I am sure that I am paying attention to it differently this year. This longing. This missing. This dramatic moment when life stops in its track. There are times when I am not aware of the anniversary. (I hate that term, as I usually associate it with good things to remember) of George's passing. But, I ALWAYS know it cellularly. I recognize that this day is different even if my head has not already alerted me to that information. I know it. It is different when I am stateside, as the memories are NOT there. Perhaps, it is because I am in a new house. A new stage in my life. Perhaps it is the CHANGE that prompts me ever so delicately.... and insistently to remember today.
It was exactly as planned. Lella came over with her dog Scott. He was my virgin dog in the house, and he didn't mark his territory at all. I love this Scott. We had a delightful couple of hours , sitting on the kitchen terrace overlooking the lake. At one moment, Lella said "Look at the water, Judy" I looked.
She said "look at the waves which are coming from no where. No boat is anywhere nearby. She continued, "that is strange."
It was strange. It looked like a whale skimming the surface of the water. I simply said "It is George, letting us know that he is here with us." It was a perfect thought.
I had Lella read the first three pages of the manuscript, the Prologue. It is written in English. So, she would read it in English and then say it in Italian. It was a beautiful collaboration. She had tears in her eyes... but, kept saying that the description was amazing. She knows. She was the only other one there with me when I was told that George "e morto". So, it was a beautiful way to begin my day.
I then set to work to see what frames and art will be returning with Carlyle and to George. I had to see how much space it would take and how many pounds it was. going through the hundreds of momentos and photos which will be sent home was a beautiful experience. I found places in both homes for another 10 things to hang. Things, which are not necessarily needed back home and COULD be used here. Yeah: less to pack.
Afterwards, I took a passegiata... looking for biscuits/cookies for Clelia's visit, and looking to purchase some flowers. Stargazer Lillies! I waited 20 minutes for the flower shop before I realized that they were closed on Mondays. I looked at the times posted, but not the 'days'.
Then, I had the most marvelous time with Clelia. She is an angel with one eye. She doesn't see well with that one eye, but has the eye of an artist, still. She used to design clothing in Itlay. I loved the way she spent hours, looking at each detail. She said "You should sell tickets for folks to be able to see your homes, your taste" How sweet. She noticed the intentionally placed framed to mimic the horizontal lines of the headboard. Her enthusiasm and keen sense of observation was delightful. It was a new way for her to get to know me. It is simple: you see my home, you know me.
Diego joined us, and again: but this time, it was me - read the prologue of the manuscript. I read it in english in my head and said it in Italian. Clelia was touched, as so was Diego.
I then scurried to see Camillo: took a ride on his boat to see George's plaque, which is placed on his home on the lakefront. We then cruised in front of Menaggio and Nobiallo- seeing some new villas owned by a Dane and an American. I haven't cruised passed there for a couple of years. Of course, it was cool, passing my villa in Menaggio.
I came home, read the most amazing and touching emails from dear family and friends. I feel filled up. Glad to be alive. Glad to have my friends. My family.
smiles and warmth
Judy
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Eighteen years ago this evening my daughter Carlyle and I were having our 'mom-daughter' trip. She wanted to go to the Grand Hotel Serbelloni in Bellagio which looms over the town each time we visit by ferry. That was her 9 year old wish, and it was granted. I have an ashtray in my current SOGNO living room as a memory of our trip together in 1995. This evening, it reminds me ..... the first time in years: that this specific evening with my daughter was innocently precious. We were enjoying our adventure as if life would remain constant when we returned, just a 5 minute ferry away to our home in Menaggio. However, 18 years ago tomorrow, my husband died. I am remembering the lightness of the evening... no clouds in the sky and no sign of impending doom.
At any rate, I had another great day on my lake. Got up early, took a shower and organized one bag of photos and pictures which will go into a suitcase for her to take back with her. I now must buy bubble wrap and repack.... but, I enjoyed the time to go through the photos and pictures that were in her room for 17 years at Villa Tognacchini. I went through hundreds: gave away all the frames which I didn't think precious. Keeping many.... and that is what is USA Bound
I got a surprise call for a lunch at my home: pesce persico (perch) by Suzy is my favorite. It is sweet, light and cooked in lots of butter, which is my passion and that was delivered. Had some sepia, which was really good, and soft - not chewy. So, I got my culinary taste buds growing in their influence to appreciate a new 'fishy' tasting food that I hadn't realized could be appetizing. Then, I walked the promenade along the lake, as it is chocker block filled with white tents and another marchettino. These are NICE items and different that is on Friday: so, it was a pure pleasure to see the wares and the lake.
I am beginning on my new manuscript. I have NOT written a word, but I am writing my concept... and creating a framework. It will be another memoir.... but will be centered around one suitcase, taken everywhere for 40+ years and the friends met and lessons learned along the way. Of course, it will be funny.... but hopefully poignant, too.
So, along the thought of "HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU"..... I hope you will have enjoyed your Sunday, too.
smiles,
Judy
Eighteen years ago this evening my daughter Carlyle and I were having our 'mom-daughter' trip. She wanted to go to the Grand Hotel Serbelloni in Bellagio which looms over the town each time we visit by ferry. That was her 9 year old wish, and it was granted. I have an ashtray in my current SOGNO living room as a memory of our trip together in 1995. This evening, it reminds me ..... the first time in years: that this specific evening with my daughter was innocently precious. We were enjoying our adventure as if life would remain constant when we returned, just a 5 minute ferry away to our home in Menaggio. However, 18 years ago tomorrow, my husband died. I am remembering the lightness of the evening... no clouds in the sky and no sign of impending doom.
At any rate, I had another great day on my lake. Got up early, took a shower and organized one bag of photos and pictures which will go into a suitcase for her to take back with her. I now must buy bubble wrap and repack.... but, I enjoyed the time to go through the photos and pictures that were in her room for 17 years at Villa Tognacchini. I went through hundreds: gave away all the frames which I didn't think precious. Keeping many.... and that is what is USA Bound
I got a surprise call for a lunch at my home: pesce persico (perch) by Suzy is my favorite. It is sweet, light and cooked in lots of butter, which is my passion and that was delivered. Had some sepia, which was really good, and soft - not chewy. So, I got my culinary taste buds growing in their influence to appreciate a new 'fishy' tasting food that I hadn't realized could be appetizing. Then, I walked the promenade along the lake, as it is chocker block filled with white tents and another marchettino. These are NICE items and different that is on Friday: so, it was a pure pleasure to see the wares and the lake.
I am beginning on my new manuscript. I have NOT written a word, but I am writing my concept... and creating a framework. It will be another memoir.... but will be centered around one suitcase, taken everywhere for 40+ years and the friends met and lessons learned along the way. Of course, it will be funny.... but hopefully poignant, too.
So, along the thought of "HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU"..... I hope you will have enjoyed your Sunday, too.
smiles,
Judy
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Saturday night, July 20, 2013
It is nine in the evening and it is still incredibly light outside. I love summer days that linger almost forever. The sky will turn a royal, then navy blue and the twinkle of the traveling cars and of a life on the lake will be invigorating, even in its evening.
I had a great day. Decided that because shops are closed tomorrow, that I needed some supplies: IE: milk for frothing in my morning coffee was the FIRST MUST. Started with a passagiata..... walking the pedestrian street with 'take out' offerings. That is how I eat.I get pre made food from local cooks. I got rice salad that I always AMERICANIZE with gobs of mayonnaise and balsalmic vinegar. I got a cooked chicken breast and ENSALATA RUSSA: potatoes, mayonaise, carrotts and peas.
Then, I was inspired to complete my week end menu by going to the local grocery store. Where, I might add: I got everything stupidly heavy I could muster: jar of mayonaise, 2 bottles of wine, 2 bottles of milk, 2 bottles of water, 2 bottles of iced tea. And, did I mention 5 tins of tuna and a jar of spaghetti sauce.???
I am sure that my arms were at least a centimeter longer when I arrived at the villa. Of course, one of the bags broke! I bought a trolley for such spontaneous and stupid shopping. I learned my lesson: I will take it with me BEFORE going to the grocery store.
Had a surprise visitor for lunch... Dining on a Take Out lasagne, burnt just enough on top to make it crunchy, I was told in typical Italian style that "to make GOOD food, you need time". Food and Italian palate is impeccable. And the topic in every conversation- during the morning, afternoon or evening. It is more than a sport: Italians breathe in their food. It is the center of their life. It is around which all things happen: conversations, important and trivial, is where the stories of their lives unfold. It is ART and a science.
Had a great chat with a dear friend stateside, then had to get dressed for the festival. I got stood up for a village festival 2 KM from here. Not really stood up. I am not getting my IM. Nadia sent one to confirm and when she didn't hear from me, she went right to the fest. I am so fine with that. I have been to dozens over the quarter century I have lived on the lake. Each village has their own rendition: always involved some sort of hand made paper ticket, salsicce, ribs of some sort, red & wine wine..... picnic tables with paper table clothes, grand parents, babies and friends of family of all ages, mingle and are joyful. There is always music where you see babies dance on the floor along side pubescent teenagers and grandparents. It is multi-generational and just plain normal. No Italian would even write about as if it was something to write about.
Daily, I see young folks go for a walk - a passagiata with their grandparent or parent. Daily. The young taking care of their elders. It is the cycle of life. It is a beautiful thing because it is as natural as a baby crying. It just is the way of life.
The mountains are getting a darker shade of grey, and the blue in the sky is turning a hazy grey. The sunset is behind the mountains.
ciao for niao
Judy, and always with a smile
It is nine in the evening and it is still incredibly light outside. I love summer days that linger almost forever. The sky will turn a royal, then navy blue and the twinkle of the traveling cars and of a life on the lake will be invigorating, even in its evening.
I had a great day. Decided that because shops are closed tomorrow, that I needed some supplies: IE: milk for frothing in my morning coffee was the FIRST MUST. Started with a passagiata..... walking the pedestrian street with 'take out' offerings. That is how I eat.I get pre made food from local cooks. I got rice salad that I always AMERICANIZE with gobs of mayonnaise and balsalmic vinegar. I got a cooked chicken breast and ENSALATA RUSSA: potatoes, mayonaise, carrotts and peas.
Then, I was inspired to complete my week end menu by going to the local grocery store. Where, I might add: I got everything stupidly heavy I could muster: jar of mayonaise, 2 bottles of wine, 2 bottles of milk, 2 bottles of water, 2 bottles of iced tea. And, did I mention 5 tins of tuna and a jar of spaghetti sauce.???
I am sure that my arms were at least a centimeter longer when I arrived at the villa. Of course, one of the bags broke! I bought a trolley for such spontaneous and stupid shopping. I learned my lesson: I will take it with me BEFORE going to the grocery store.
Had a surprise visitor for lunch... Dining on a Take Out lasagne, burnt just enough on top to make it crunchy, I was told in typical Italian style that "to make GOOD food, you need time". Food and Italian palate is impeccable. And the topic in every conversation- during the morning, afternoon or evening. It is more than a sport: Italians breathe in their food. It is the center of their life. It is around which all things happen: conversations, important and trivial, is where the stories of their lives unfold. It is ART and a science.
Had a great chat with a dear friend stateside, then had to get dressed for the festival. I got stood up for a village festival 2 KM from here. Not really stood up. I am not getting my IM. Nadia sent one to confirm and when she didn't hear from me, she went right to the fest. I am so fine with that. I have been to dozens over the quarter century I have lived on the lake. Each village has their own rendition: always involved some sort of hand made paper ticket, salsicce, ribs of some sort, red & wine wine..... picnic tables with paper table clothes, grand parents, babies and friends of family of all ages, mingle and are joyful. There is always music where you see babies dance on the floor along side pubescent teenagers and grandparents. It is multi-generational and just plain normal. No Italian would even write about as if it was something to write about.
Daily, I see young folks go for a walk - a passagiata with their grandparent or parent. Daily. The young taking care of their elders. It is the cycle of life. It is a beautiful thing because it is as natural as a baby crying. It just is the way of life.
The mountains are getting a darker shade of grey, and the blue in the sky is turning a hazy grey. The sunset is behind the mountains.
ciao for niao
Judy, and always with a smile
Friday, July 19, 2013
Friday, July 19, 2013
I am beginning to relax..... as I didn't write yesterday. Shame on me for not having the attention span to follow my commitment to myself to write every day. It may be the first since I started writing a week ago, but I assure you it will not be the last.
My yesterday. It was a great day: a bit lazy, a bit productive and a bit social. A good mix, really- in living life. I slept in late, and awoke a bit 'foggy'. Not wanting to awaken.... I was greeted by a breezy morning: perfect for being under light covers in a four-poster bed overlooking Lake Como.
Carlo arrived. He is the husband of my cleaning lady. He is like a surrogate husband: when the electricity goes off, I call him and ask for "HELP". He is my handyman and my voice on the telephone when I need to get something done: electricity in my home, gas in my home, my dryer doesn't work.... etc... He knows the details of that vocabulary and in a country where MEN still reign, it is good to have a male voice at the end of the telephone.
At any rate: a dryer was bought in April. I worked for two days. I just got it back yesterday.... and guess what? Each time I go to turn it on: all the electricity in the house goes gaput!
I hate this dryer. I should be such a luxury and has been nothing but aggravation. Small, but annoying details
that can fill in the small moments. It takes energy. Of course, the lady who sold it, says she has nothing to do with it. It is the 'service provider' who is in charge. Guess what? He says that he has 'nothing to do with getting a new machine" Gotta love Italian back-speak.
I went to get my bikes from the bike-repair dude, 20 minutes away. My dear friend offered to take me. Of course, in the morning while in my nightgown.... he drives by, as all of Menaggio drives by my terraces: and he honks. I have no privacy or anonymity. I love the intimacy. I hate the fact that I am so exposed. It is the top and bottom of life: the ying and yang. At any rate: I picked up the two bikes, purchased in HOLLAND in 1982! They were a 6th anniversary gift.... and I couldn't part with them. I used to live 155 steps UP, and never used the bikes in 17 years that they have been here. Now: on ground level: the bikes will be enjoyed. They are great, and now ANTIQUE arts of bicycle work.
I met some gal friends.... and we drank from 7:00pm along the main walking street of Menaggio: talking, smoking fine VOGUE cigarettes in VIOLA and GOURMET in packs of 10, tiny and very feminine.... and chatted. The world walked in front of us. Life is great. We went back to my home for a chat and a view of the lake. It was divine.
Woke up this morning expecting to go to a TERME -thermal spa about 2 hours from here. First, I would take a boat to the other side of the lake, then my Italian sister was to meet me. Tiziana is my Italian sister of the heart. She is the first woman I met here on the lake 27 years ago. She is beautiful: inside and out. She has the aura of an angel and I am blessed to be her sister. Albeit, American..Tizi has a 93 year old uncle who has no kids and no one. Tizi bathes him, cleans him, feeds him, cleans the house ( HER HOME where he lives- separate from where she lives) She called this morning in tears and saying she "can't do it any more". She has no support system. This is not the USA where, if wanted- help is available. This is a country where you see 50 year olds 'hand in hand' with their parents every day, taking a walk - a passegiata'...Or, you see a twenty something with their nona. Or you see a 12 year old with their bis nona ( great grandma) It is expected that is what you do: you take care of your elders. It is as natural as puberty and is as expected. It is part of the Italian fabric. And so, NO TERME today . NO HOLIDAY with Tizi , even for a day.
Today is Friday. Went to the bank and paid bills in cash to some local vendors: who allow you to take items and pay WHENEVER. It is a very person, face to face transaction. No digital numbers involved. Had a prosecco with a new friend who invited me to a LOCAL Festa tomorrow night in a town 2 KM from here.
It is like going from Siesta Key Village to the South Bridge. Towns are marked differently.... as 2 KM by foot a thousand years ago was another world. So, I will be part of salsicce, polenta and local music tomorrow.
Have a great week end
SMILES, as always
Judy
I am beginning to relax..... as I didn't write yesterday. Shame on me for not having the attention span to follow my commitment to myself to write every day. It may be the first since I started writing a week ago, but I assure you it will not be the last.
My yesterday. It was a great day: a bit lazy, a bit productive and a bit social. A good mix, really- in living life. I slept in late, and awoke a bit 'foggy'. Not wanting to awaken.... I was greeted by a breezy morning: perfect for being under light covers in a four-poster bed overlooking Lake Como.
Carlo arrived. He is the husband of my cleaning lady. He is like a surrogate husband: when the electricity goes off, I call him and ask for "HELP". He is my handyman and my voice on the telephone when I need to get something done: electricity in my home, gas in my home, my dryer doesn't work.... etc... He knows the details of that vocabulary and in a country where MEN still reign, it is good to have a male voice at the end of the telephone.
At any rate: a dryer was bought in April. I worked for two days. I just got it back yesterday.... and guess what? Each time I go to turn it on: all the electricity in the house goes gaput!
I hate this dryer. I should be such a luxury and has been nothing but aggravation. Small, but annoying details
that can fill in the small moments. It takes energy. Of course, the lady who sold it, says she has nothing to do with it. It is the 'service provider' who is in charge. Guess what? He says that he has 'nothing to do with getting a new machine" Gotta love Italian back-speak.
I went to get my bikes from the bike-repair dude, 20 minutes away. My dear friend offered to take me. Of course, in the morning while in my nightgown.... he drives by, as all of Menaggio drives by my terraces: and he honks. I have no privacy or anonymity. I love the intimacy. I hate the fact that I am so exposed. It is the top and bottom of life: the ying and yang. At any rate: I picked up the two bikes, purchased in HOLLAND in 1982! They were a 6th anniversary gift.... and I couldn't part with them. I used to live 155 steps UP, and never used the bikes in 17 years that they have been here. Now: on ground level: the bikes will be enjoyed. They are great, and now ANTIQUE arts of bicycle work.
I met some gal friends.... and we drank from 7:00pm along the main walking street of Menaggio: talking, smoking fine VOGUE cigarettes in VIOLA and GOURMET in packs of 10, tiny and very feminine.... and chatted. The world walked in front of us. Life is great. We went back to my home for a chat and a view of the lake. It was divine.
Woke up this morning expecting to go to a TERME -thermal spa about 2 hours from here. First, I would take a boat to the other side of the lake, then my Italian sister was to meet me. Tiziana is my Italian sister of the heart. She is the first woman I met here on the lake 27 years ago. She is beautiful: inside and out. She has the aura of an angel and I am blessed to be her sister. Albeit, American..Tizi has a 93 year old uncle who has no kids and no one. Tizi bathes him, cleans him, feeds him, cleans the house ( HER HOME where he lives- separate from where she lives) She called this morning in tears and saying she "can't do it any more". She has no support system. This is not the USA where, if wanted- help is available. This is a country where you see 50 year olds 'hand in hand' with their parents every day, taking a walk - a passegiata'...Or, you see a twenty something with their nona. Or you see a 12 year old with their bis nona ( great grandma) It is expected that is what you do: you take care of your elders. It is as natural as puberty and is as expected. It is part of the Italian fabric. And so, NO TERME today . NO HOLIDAY with Tizi , even for a day.
Today is Friday. Went to the bank and paid bills in cash to some local vendors: who allow you to take items and pay WHENEVER. It is a very person, face to face transaction. No digital numbers involved. Had a prosecco with a new friend who invited me to a LOCAL Festa tomorrow night in a town 2 KM from here.
It is like going from Siesta Key Village to the South Bridge. Towns are marked differently.... as 2 KM by foot a thousand years ago was another world. So, I will be part of salsicce, polenta and local music tomorrow.
Have a great week end
SMILES, as always
Judy
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Wednesday, July 17,2013
The skies are all shades of grey against a backdrop of varieties of gray outlining the mountains and marking their distance a shade lighter. It is like an old Japanese print from the 60's and it just tranquil and lovely- dressed in its subtleties as well as when it is bursting with color and clarity.
I have been working on a family trip for some culinary delights: truffles, and wine tasting. A cooking class, and some culture! All in Italy. Buon apetito. I have also been working on my query letter for finding an agent.
A slow but deliberate process. Difficult, but not impossible.
It is a good thing I am a 'glass half full' kinda gal!
I am being mentally ambidextrous in my endeavors.
Will go to one of my favorite restaurants along the lake: in front of the island of isola comacina. Picture perfect and the most sensual lemon ravioli ever. Outdoor dining in a piazzina on the lakefront, with big stone rocks as the street and a large sycamore tree with a brass fountain in front. Around the tree, a bench is growing into the trunk and old men can sit for hours under that tree- looking at the boats, the blue of the lake, and an island with Roman ruins.
I am meeting a family who is visiting. One of the gents grew up in Great Neck, the next town over from where I grew up in Manhasset. Love the small world of it all.
smiles for this Mercoledi
Judy
The skies are all shades of grey against a backdrop of varieties of gray outlining the mountains and marking their distance a shade lighter. It is like an old Japanese print from the 60's and it just tranquil and lovely- dressed in its subtleties as well as when it is bursting with color and clarity.
I have been working on a family trip for some culinary delights: truffles, and wine tasting. A cooking class, and some culture! All in Italy. Buon apetito. I have also been working on my query letter for finding an agent.
A slow but deliberate process. Difficult, but not impossible.
It is a good thing I am a 'glass half full' kinda gal!
I am being mentally ambidextrous in my endeavors.
Will go to one of my favorite restaurants along the lake: in front of the island of isola comacina. Picture perfect and the most sensual lemon ravioli ever. Outdoor dining in a piazzina on the lakefront, with big stone rocks as the street and a large sycamore tree with a brass fountain in front. Around the tree, a bench is growing into the trunk and old men can sit for hours under that tree- looking at the boats, the blue of the lake, and an island with Roman ruins.
I am meeting a family who is visiting. One of the gents grew up in Great Neck, the next town over from where I grew up in Manhasset. Love the small world of it all.
smiles for this Mercoledi
Judy
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Tuesday, July 16,2013
It has been a relatively normal day, awaking lake in the morning. It is quiet this morning, with soft breezes from the lake. It is a refreshing caress.
Went to the village to pick up some milk, some lunch - a turkey cutlet cooked by Suzy, the local gastronomia and take out. Suzy is a hard worker, and a creative person. She also makes all the favors for weddings, baptisms, etc... in amazingly divine packaging. Attention to detail being an art in itself.
I finally received back the dryer, purchased in April. It works for 3 days.... and hasn't since. You can't bring anything back in Italy. So, the place where it was purchased said that they couldn't do anything, as it was under warranty and it is the warranty provided who is responsible. Needless to say, it is now MID JULY, and I am only now able to use it.
Speedy is an oxymoron when combined with the word: Italian.
I worked on a new event which Historic Spanish Point open air museum..... is putting on. It is called Havana Nights & White Lights. It should sizzle.
ciao for niao
judy
It has been a relatively normal day, awaking lake in the morning. It is quiet this morning, with soft breezes from the lake. It is a refreshing caress.
Went to the village to pick up some milk, some lunch - a turkey cutlet cooked by Suzy, the local gastronomia and take out. Suzy is a hard worker, and a creative person. She also makes all the favors for weddings, baptisms, etc... in amazingly divine packaging. Attention to detail being an art in itself.
I finally received back the dryer, purchased in April. It works for 3 days.... and hasn't since. You can't bring anything back in Italy. So, the place where it was purchased said that they couldn't do anything, as it was under warranty and it is the warranty provided who is responsible. Needless to say, it is now MID JULY, and I am only now able to use it.
Speedy is an oxymoron when combined with the word: Italian.
I worked on a new event which Historic Spanish Point open air museum..... is putting on. It is called Havana Nights & White Lights. It should sizzle.
ciao for niao
judy
Monday, July 15, 2013
Monday, July 15, 2013
The lake is calm. There is bright sunlight, making the lake sparkle against the breeze that blows happily through my home.
My young Swiss friends just left in their 1984 Toyota van, outfitted by Micha. It is reminiscent of a time gone by, also from my twenty-somethings. Anna-Julia's mom and dad traveled in their twenties in an 'outfitted' van, and traversed the USA for 6 months. My home where their first and last stop of their journey, making it my journey in a way, too. It is great for life to go full circle, now with my friends' daughter... the tradition of seeing the world with young bright eyes and out of the window of a home-made van. Gotta love it!
The two twenty-somethings were pure delight and I miss their lovely minds, energy, sweetness and a love of life. They hand-glided (with me, too!), rock climbed, strap walked.... played games in the garden and rummi-cube on the terrace. At any rate: they are continuing their adventure and I feel privileged for them to have shared 5 days of their 'paradise' was precious and appreciated.
I just finished reading my first book of the summer. I read, and periodically look out upon my lake....from the terrace or the living room sofa. I have waited for two years to enjoy this time with books. I have been here since April 18th, and feel enough has been done to relax and enjoy the fruits of the labor of moving two homes. I read Anita Shreve's "The last time they met". It was in the library I have here in Italy.... as I have collected books to read for years, and have a stock to be devoured.
It is a timely tale for me. It is about two kids who meet in high school and fall in love. Then meet again - in Africa.... and then again as 50 somethings..... kids raised. It is a love story. I love love stories. I am a romantic. I love Africa. I have just reconnected with the first love of my life after 40 years. We have been writing for years, but only recently came face to face. What a dear and wonderful thing in life. It is that circle again. Love travels miles, decades and remains at its core when combined with undeniable chemistry: astonishing, profound and life affirming. There are some things in life that sometimes have no beginning or some things in life that sometimes have no ending. There are some times in life that stand alone and can be perfect for that. It is about the quality of the moment felt or shared.
I am readjusting to the quiet of my own energy. Not too quiet, as my music, I am told- wafts along the promenade, lake side.
Have a bright and happy Monday. Lunedi
Judy
The lake is calm. There is bright sunlight, making the lake sparkle against the breeze that blows happily through my home.
My young Swiss friends just left in their 1984 Toyota van, outfitted by Micha. It is reminiscent of a time gone by, also from my twenty-somethings. Anna-Julia's mom and dad traveled in their twenties in an 'outfitted' van, and traversed the USA for 6 months. My home where their first and last stop of their journey, making it my journey in a way, too. It is great for life to go full circle, now with my friends' daughter... the tradition of seeing the world with young bright eyes and out of the window of a home-made van. Gotta love it!
The two twenty-somethings were pure delight and I miss their lovely minds, energy, sweetness and a love of life. They hand-glided (with me, too!), rock climbed, strap walked.... played games in the garden and rummi-cube on the terrace. At any rate: they are continuing their adventure and I feel privileged for them to have shared 5 days of their 'paradise' was precious and appreciated.
I just finished reading my first book of the summer. I read, and periodically look out upon my lake....from the terrace or the living room sofa. I have waited for two years to enjoy this time with books. I have been here since April 18th, and feel enough has been done to relax and enjoy the fruits of the labor of moving two homes. I read Anita Shreve's "The last time they met". It was in the library I have here in Italy.... as I have collected books to read for years, and have a stock to be devoured.
It is a timely tale for me. It is about two kids who meet in high school and fall in love. Then meet again - in Africa.... and then again as 50 somethings..... kids raised. It is a love story. I love love stories. I am a romantic. I love Africa. I have just reconnected with the first love of my life after 40 years. We have been writing for years, but only recently came face to face. What a dear and wonderful thing in life. It is that circle again. Love travels miles, decades and remains at its core when combined with undeniable chemistry: astonishing, profound and life affirming. There are some things in life that sometimes have no beginning or some things in life that sometimes have no ending. There are some times in life that stand alone and can be perfect for that. It is about the quality of the moment felt or shared.
I am readjusting to the quiet of my own energy. Not too quiet, as my music, I am told- wafts along the promenade, lake side.
Have a bright and happy Monday. Lunedi
Judy
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Lazy Lake
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Saturday was one of those great lazy days.... which continued onto the evening, after a short walk into the village and the offer of 4 proseccos with conversation. Of course- surrounded by men who were cordially inviting me into their Menaggio life. It is good that I grew up with older brothers, as I have a great comfort level hanging out with men. I love my girl time, too- which included also during my afternoon social time the chance to know a couple of women in town whom I didn't know before. Of course, Franca knew all about me, George's moped accident.... and spoke freely about it. Living a part of a legend in a small italian town is quite fascinating.
At any rate, last evening was spent catching the soft breezes from the lake and mountains.... a deep royal blue sky sporadically filled with billowing clouds. This was late at night. Sitting on the terrace with the twinkling lights coming from along the lake and across the lake: was splendid. It was Saturday night and a perfect evening, and the promenade that separates me from the lake was abuzz with folks strolling and enjoying life outdoors. Folks with their strollers, young people handing the hand of an old person, families with dogs.... all strolling. Down the street at the Lido, a famous Italian band from the '60's played, adding to the sense of living life fully. I could hear the music and periodically, the church bells would chime for what seemed a melody of clanging. You could also hear the water lapping across the hulls of the boats. Sitting on the terrace with my young Swiss friends, Micha said "Judy, you must watch this". Turning, I saw the moving painting of sorts: LIGHTING miles across were lighting up the clouds and the deep royal blue of the sky.
It went on for an hour, and mesmerized us with the drawings it painted for us in the heavens. Then, if that was not enough- voila! fireworks south of me along the lake. As we sat with the theatre of people watching and the lighting bolts, we could see framed between tall Pine Tree and the sheer verticality of the mountain rock, there were glorious fireworks!
Another perfect moment to be savored.
Today, the air is crisp, the sun shines, the breezes are like a dance of fresh air across my face. And, I am happy to be able to take this all in.
Buona Domenica..... and as always, a smile
Judy
Saturday was one of those great lazy days.... which continued onto the evening, after a short walk into the village and the offer of 4 proseccos with conversation. Of course- surrounded by men who were cordially inviting me into their Menaggio life. It is good that I grew up with older brothers, as I have a great comfort level hanging out with men. I love my girl time, too- which included also during my afternoon social time the chance to know a couple of women in town whom I didn't know before. Of course, Franca knew all about me, George's moped accident.... and spoke freely about it. Living a part of a legend in a small italian town is quite fascinating.
At any rate, last evening was spent catching the soft breezes from the lake and mountains.... a deep royal blue sky sporadically filled with billowing clouds. This was late at night. Sitting on the terrace with the twinkling lights coming from along the lake and across the lake: was splendid. It was Saturday night and a perfect evening, and the promenade that separates me from the lake was abuzz with folks strolling and enjoying life outdoors. Folks with their strollers, young people handing the hand of an old person, families with dogs.... all strolling. Down the street at the Lido, a famous Italian band from the '60's played, adding to the sense of living life fully. I could hear the music and periodically, the church bells would chime for what seemed a melody of clanging. You could also hear the water lapping across the hulls of the boats. Sitting on the terrace with my young Swiss friends, Micha said "Judy, you must watch this". Turning, I saw the moving painting of sorts: LIGHTING miles across were lighting up the clouds and the deep royal blue of the sky.
It went on for an hour, and mesmerized us with the drawings it painted for us in the heavens. Then, if that was not enough- voila! fireworks south of me along the lake. As we sat with the theatre of people watching and the lighting bolts, we could see framed between tall Pine Tree and the sheer verticality of the mountain rock, there were glorious fireworks!
Another perfect moment to be savored.
Today, the air is crisp, the sun shines, the breezes are like a dance of fresh air across my face. And, I am happy to be able to take this all in.
Buona Domenica..... and as always, a smile
Judy
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Today had to be great as my day yesterday and evening were tops! I am coasting on the bounty we get to enjoy, if we seize it. If we recognize and appreciate it.
Last evening was a wonderful ending to a thrilling morning. Slept and entertained my young friends and an Italian.... two generations enjoying company: One speaks Italian. One speaks English & Italian. One speaks German and French. One speaks English, German, French and Italian. A veritable melting pot. The young 'ns sang in English and German without music and it was a gift , so sweet and beautiful. It was heartwarming.
Slept in far too late this morning to the sound of the telephone ringing.... saying that my guests were 15 minutes away. After a hearty welcome, a bit of reading! I have now enough time to devour the books I have been saving to enjoy. Having set up two households, I have now the time to enjoy them and my life on the lake.-to take that time and read is a fabulous gift and I am seizing this one, too!
Strolled 10 seconds into the heart of Menaggio.... and sat to enjoy a few gifts of bicchieri da prosecco, and the company of some Italian men. They talked of food. Everyone talks of food: of the great dinners had, or about to have, about the poetry of spices, of what they are preparing for lunch or dinner. It is precisely why the Italian palate can be trusted, admired and revered, as they spend a lifetime cultivating and talking about it in fine detail.
The 8:00pm bells are playing a symphony of clangs and it is music. It is a lovely , breezy evening.... and all will be strolling about. I love people-watching and this is a feast.
Ciao for now
Judy, with a grin
Today had to be great as my day yesterday and evening were tops! I am coasting on the bounty we get to enjoy, if we seize it. If we recognize and appreciate it.
Last evening was a wonderful ending to a thrilling morning. Slept and entertained my young friends and an Italian.... two generations enjoying company: One speaks Italian. One speaks English & Italian. One speaks German and French. One speaks English, German, French and Italian. A veritable melting pot. The young 'ns sang in English and German without music and it was a gift , so sweet and beautiful. It was heartwarming.
Slept in far too late this morning to the sound of the telephone ringing.... saying that my guests were 15 minutes away. After a hearty welcome, a bit of reading! I have now enough time to devour the books I have been saving to enjoy. Having set up two households, I have now the time to enjoy them and my life on the lake.-to take that time and read is a fabulous gift and I am seizing this one, too!
Strolled 10 seconds into the heart of Menaggio.... and sat to enjoy a few gifts of bicchieri da prosecco, and the company of some Italian men. They talked of food. Everyone talks of food: of the great dinners had, or about to have, about the poetry of spices, of what they are preparing for lunch or dinner. It is precisely why the Italian palate can be trusted, admired and revered, as they spend a lifetime cultivating and talking about it in fine detail.
The 8:00pm bells are playing a symphony of clangs and it is music. It is a lovely , breezy evening.... and all will be strolling about. I love people-watching and this is a feast.
Ciao for now
Judy, with a grin
Friday, July 12, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
This morning was as exhilarating and perfect as a day could be. I did something today that I have been wanting to do for eons. I went paragliding! I found the perfect friends to do it with, which makes it even more precious.
We started in a converted 1987 van which my two young Swiss friends are using to travel through Europe this summer. Inside there was Micha's hand-glider, a bed, a trapeze, a refrigerator, a bed, a guitar and the ease of youth. Anna Julia sat in back on the floor, as Micha drove us north along Lake Como to the end of the lake - a town called 'Gera Lario'.
Here, we met the hand-gliding crew on the lakeside which would be our landing field. Fabio looked every inch a 'Fabio' in the imaginations of American women who read romance novels. He had dishelved hair, a rugged and handsome face and a glint in his eye, a daredevil grin that exuded confidence. He smoked a vanilla scented electronic cigarette as he drove the gang up the mountain.
Micha prepared his own hand-glider, as he is a pilot. Pascal took Ann Julia and I had Fabio as my guide.
We walked to this glorious hill with wildflowers and lots of cow paddies. We were 1300 meters high overlooking Lake Como and above the tree line. Life doesn't get much better than that. The day had a slight haze, with crisp breezes and a bright blue sky. Some clouds wafted in the distance.
I put on the gear which is a seat strapped to your legs and torso. I was instructed to run when directed and to lift my knees when I longer felt the ground beneath my feat. I ran and felt as if I was going to trip head first down the mountain, as just then: we were pulled off the ground and into the cool and windy feeling air. No noise except my giggles of delight along with the sound of the breeze. It was as exciting as it was calming.
A thrill of being alive. Today.
We flew for about 20 minutes, allowing me to steer the hand-glider. We rocked left and right as if on a sideways swing. Each swing caused a swelling in my soul and I felt light with joy. We did a spiral, which seems like being in the center of a gentle tornado. And, we floated. Over the mountains. Over the lake. Over the boats carrying wake boarders. And, then.... ever so gently, with a few steps, we were again land bound.
Sweetly and with a sense of having been a bird for just a minute.
Driving home and back to Menaggio....along the old curvy and narrow roads, we were all satisfied. Satiated and happy.
Indeed, it is a good day to be alive.
This morning was as exhilarating and perfect as a day could be. I did something today that I have been wanting to do for eons. I went paragliding! I found the perfect friends to do it with, which makes it even more precious.
We started in a converted 1987 van which my two young Swiss friends are using to travel through Europe this summer. Inside there was Micha's hand-glider, a bed, a trapeze, a refrigerator, a bed, a guitar and the ease of youth. Anna Julia sat in back on the floor, as Micha drove us north along Lake Como to the end of the lake - a town called 'Gera Lario'.
Here, we met the hand-gliding crew on the lakeside which would be our landing field. Fabio looked every inch a 'Fabio' in the imaginations of American women who read romance novels. He had dishelved hair, a rugged and handsome face and a glint in his eye, a daredevil grin that exuded confidence. He smoked a vanilla scented electronic cigarette as he drove the gang up the mountain.
Micha prepared his own hand-glider, as he is a pilot. Pascal took Ann Julia and I had Fabio as my guide.
We walked to this glorious hill with wildflowers and lots of cow paddies. We were 1300 meters high overlooking Lake Como and above the tree line. Life doesn't get much better than that. The day had a slight haze, with crisp breezes and a bright blue sky. Some clouds wafted in the distance.
I put on the gear which is a seat strapped to your legs and torso. I was instructed to run when directed and to lift my knees when I longer felt the ground beneath my feat. I ran and felt as if I was going to trip head first down the mountain, as just then: we were pulled off the ground and into the cool and windy feeling air. No noise except my giggles of delight along with the sound of the breeze. It was as exciting as it was calming.
A thrill of being alive. Today.
We flew for about 20 minutes, allowing me to steer the hand-glider. We rocked left and right as if on a sideways swing. Each swing caused a swelling in my soul and I felt light with joy. We did a spiral, which seems like being in the center of a gentle tornado. And, we floated. Over the mountains. Over the lake. Over the boats carrying wake boarders. And, then.... ever so gently, with a few steps, we were again land bound.
Sweetly and with a sense of having been a bird for just a minute.
Driving home and back to Menaggio....along the old curvy and narrow roads, we were all satisfied. Satiated and happy.
Indeed, it is a good day to be alive.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
I am back at it again!
I have been away from blogging as it seemed so self indulgent. And then a friend mentioned to me that all writing is a bit self indulgent. I had to think on that for awhile and realized that statement might just be true. When we write, we are assuming that someone is going to want to read what we write. There is a bit of ego involved, which had never occurred to me. But, it is precisely that 'self indulgent ego' part that prevented me from continuing the blog on a regular basis.
Recognizing that I must get over that hurdle, and put it out in the universe that I WANT TO WRITE something which others will value on some level: I will begin again and try not to stumble over my ego.
I am sitting in my kitchen right now on Lago di Como overlooking the lake on this crisp, breezy and sunny day. Bellagio sits in front of my view and takes my breath away, as always. The first time I had ever spent a summer here more than two decades ago, I sat on this very expansive terrace overlooking the bounty and beauty which is Lake Como. I remember thinking and saying "If I ever get the chance to return to this lake- at least ONE MORE TIME in my life, my heart and soul will be filled!" Remembering that wish, each time I arrive on the lake and my heart swells with immense appreciation for the incredible beauty and grace found here, I remember that wish and thank the universe for giving me that ONE NEXT TIME to take it all in.
Those of you who are reading this, I need your help and support and will beg you for it. I need to increase my readership as I have just completed a manuscript that I am hoping will get published. A blog with lots of followers will help in that endeavor, so I will keep asking for your help to 'spread the blogword' for me.
I am currently living in the most beautiful apartment in Menaggio, a feat which took 20+ years to find and get. It is filled with tall arched windows overlooking the lake with 180 degree views.... and three grand terraces, bringing the indoors to me. The scent of jasmine is everywhere and wafts through my home. I am in a piece of heaven.
Two young twenty-somethings arrived from Switzerland yesterday. The eldest daughter of friends of mine, it is such a pleasure to see a sweet charming young woman, after knowing her as a baby. I met her dad when he was 19 ( he is now well into his 50's) when I was escorting groups of high school students through Europe. He was a local guide, and we have been friends ever since. He is tall and thin and married a great gal who is also tall and thin. They live in a tall and skinny home in Basel and had 3 tall and skinny kids. They are my TALL and SKINNY family. I have always gravitated to young adults and they are the second group that I have gotten to welcome this summer. I attribute it to my short attention span, that I get along with the 'youngins'.
More tomorrow and later today, gator. Happy day to you.
Smiles, as always
Judy
Recognizing that I must get over that hurdle, and put it out in the universe that I WANT TO WRITE something which others will value on some level: I will begin again and try not to stumble over my ego.
I am sitting in my kitchen right now on Lago di Como overlooking the lake on this crisp, breezy and sunny day. Bellagio sits in front of my view and takes my breath away, as always. The first time I had ever spent a summer here more than two decades ago, I sat on this very expansive terrace overlooking the bounty and beauty which is Lake Como. I remember thinking and saying "If I ever get the chance to return to this lake- at least ONE MORE TIME in my life, my heart and soul will be filled!" Remembering that wish, each time I arrive on the lake and my heart swells with immense appreciation for the incredible beauty and grace found here, I remember that wish and thank the universe for giving me that ONE NEXT TIME to take it all in.
Those of you who are reading this, I need your help and support and will beg you for it. I need to increase my readership as I have just completed a manuscript that I am hoping will get published. A blog with lots of followers will help in that endeavor, so I will keep asking for your help to 'spread the blogword' for me.
I am currently living in the most beautiful apartment in Menaggio, a feat which took 20+ years to find and get. It is filled with tall arched windows overlooking the lake with 180 degree views.... and three grand terraces, bringing the indoors to me. The scent of jasmine is everywhere and wafts through my home. I am in a piece of heaven.
Two young twenty-somethings arrived from Switzerland yesterday. The eldest daughter of friends of mine, it is such a pleasure to see a sweet charming young woman, after knowing her as a baby. I met her dad when he was 19 ( he is now well into his 50's) when I was escorting groups of high school students through Europe. He was a local guide, and we have been friends ever since. He is tall and thin and married a great gal who is also tall and thin. They live in a tall and skinny home in Basel and had 3 tall and skinny kids. They are my TALL and SKINNY family. I have always gravitated to young adults and they are the second group that I have gotten to welcome this summer. I attribute it to my short attention span, that I get along with the 'youngins'.
More tomorrow and later today, gator. Happy day to you.
Smiles, as always
Judy
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