Breath of Umbria

 If I could find a better place to sit and write, I would surely have to be dead. And that is because I would be in Heaven and from where I am now sitting, I believe that the living of a good and righteous life would be well worth the wait.  We're at an Agriturismo, a few miles from where we had planned to be right now up until the day before we departed. Our friend and usual landlord in Assisi, informed us that our apartment was without heat or hot water and, just like home.....he could not even get an answer from his plumber on his telefonino. So, he offered very kindly to apply our payment to this glorious place, owned by a business associate, outside of the hilltop town. I'm still taking it all in. It's Umbria and it's Spring. Even the roses are in bloom. 

After two days of travel and sleep deprivation, we arrived in Rome early yesterday morning. (Oh, how we miss the direct flights of the now-defunct Alitalia). Our United Airlines flights were superb however. Brand new planes, lovely service with an easy check in. Not one word was asked concerning our Covid status.  For all anyone knew, we could have been sick as two and a half dogs. Both Logan and Newark airports were bustling with un-masked travelers who didn't seem to have known that the past two years were obliterated from the face of the Earth. It wasn't until we boarded our plane to Rome that face masking, specifically the horribly uncomfortable N-95 version, were enforced. This is only because the "Italian Government" demands this with the insistence that masks remain on during the entire flight except for meal consumption. Anything after the meal, mask, sip, mask, sip.  To make this even more amusing, upon arrival at the Rome airport (by the way, it's Leonardo Da Vinci Airport IN Fiumicino), we saw lots of sip, sip, no mask and very few travelers and/or employees seemed to know about the Pandemic. We, of course, kept our noses and mouths covered because we will, at this writing, still be required to Covid test before returning, as ridiculous as all this sounds. 

I have so many sensual reminders of Italy. Sights. Smells. And, sounds. Perhaps the one about which I dream most is that unique noise that is created by the quick marriage of a china saucer as it is placed on a marble countertop awaiting the arrival of its beautiful mate, the beloved and adored cappuccino. Cappuccino should always and only be offered in such a vessel. A paper cup filled with what passes for "cappuch" is not the damned same and you will never catch one in my hands. Nor will you ever find myself or my husband arriving at the airport and not having a cup before we do anything else. Car rentals can wait. The rest of the entire world can wait, but we have our priorities and we hold them sacred. Arrival in Italy means living Italian from the moment we get here. And we're here now so as I sit outdoors now, listening to church bells ringing in the distance (never very far in any distance for this sound), I am going to finish my second glorious cappuch and breathe. Just breathe.

Just breathe.

ilcanticodisanfrancesco.it