Cheers!!!!!

There are so many things I will miss when I leave Assisi.  The quiet days, the serene evenings, the aromas - wood fires, roses.  The tastes - new olive oil, chestnuts, cheese. The wine. The wine. The wine......The local products, so pure and exquisite that I know nothing else on Earth will ever reach the bar. The church bells.  The churches.  Aperol spritzes. Rosemary bushes, lavender bushes, chocolate that gives new meaning to the word delicious.  Cappuccino, made by experts and yes, it is perfectly acceptable to have it after eleven o'clock (just not with a meal...ever...it IS a meal!).

But, there is one thing that I will miss, oh so much, above all others, guaranteed.  My mornings at the Cafe Duomo, bells ringing from San Rufino, fresh baked coronetti stinging my olfactory nerve and creating a dance, and the ever-present lovely Isabella, my hostess Migliore!!!  Gorgeous woman. Gracious and sweet.

This morning, Thanksgiving, started out with a downpour.  I wake up so early, just as I do in my home, and there's nothing that will put me back to sleep so I am up and showered, ready for the day, by seven. Don't even begin to offer me advice.  I've tried everything and I'm seventy so it's not going to change and apparently, it serves me well.  I'm digressing....this morning, as I worked my way down the wet cobblestones and got my first glimpse of the lights on at the cafe, I thought to myself......"this is the CHEERS of Assisi!!" Isabella is the female version of Sam Malone and the cast of characters, regulars from the neighborhood who show up every morning like clockwork.  One could almost film a series here called "SALUTI!"

There's the man who comes in for his cafe macchiato, that espresso with a tiny bit of milk.  He's first (after my entrance and cappuch).  He drinks it at the bar, chatting briefly with Isabella.  Soon after, the man with the tie comes in and brings the newspaper.  I can hardly resist shouting "Normmmmm!!"  The next set, an elderly couple, tiny woman who thinks I'm a goddess and hugs me, pinching my cheeks like the friends of my grandmother did when I was a child and we would meet them in the supermarket (I actually dreaded that because it hurt so much).  Now, I welcome it and feel the love in those bony fingers.  He, her more capable-appearing spouse, is the no-nonsense partner, hurries her along and says in Italian, some version of "let's get going, Woman" and she scurries out.  The utility workers are next.  I know them by their jackets.  Quick pausa.  Most of the customers are in and out, few linger as I do.  Their way, of course, is the authentic cafe experience.
A bit later, the group of life-long friends enter and take their seats.  Now, they linger.  One is a retired school teacher, accompanied by her husband.  The others, friends.  A foursome that has been meeting like this for years, at this very spot, at the same time every day with Sunday being the exception.
Lively conversations, smiles. Sharing problems, joys life journeys.

Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got


 I get a huge "Buon Giorno" from these folk. Surely they must wonder what the heck I'm doing here, working on my laptop.  Maybe they think I'm a foreign correspondent.


Ciao, ciao, ciao......people drift in and out.  Patrizia with the nice shoes is probably on her way to work.  Looks like a school teacher. Leonard Cohen on the Isabella's playlist.....OMG, we both love that man!!!! 

Normanoooooooo!!!!!!!

How can I resist capturing these moments?  Me, who loves to study people.  Me, who has made it my point to watch every single re-run episode of CHEERS over the past few months, as if they were brand new.  This is a festival for me and one I cannot replicate when I return.  I'm so pleased at myself for having taken the time. this time.  While I have spent many happy hours in Italy, I have never indulged as well.  I've learned to truly relax, to appreciate moments and to not seek much more than the moment.  This time has been another of those life-investments that I count with each passing day.  I'm well-rehearsed in the art of living simply and loving grandly.  When Joe and I were on our Camino last Spring, I learned the importance of the word "Ultreia".  I made a promise to myself, that the Camino would never end, that I would try my hardest to live the magic and Ultreia defines that.  Continue, rock on.  Never stop. It's a lifestyle that's so worth pursuing. 

Making you way in the world today takes everything you've got.

Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.

You wanna be where you can see the troubles are all the same

Mi Chiama Lynn!!!

You wanna be where everybody knows your name.

CHEERS AMICI!!!!

Girls' Day Out -Ragazze Fuori

Benessere.  Translates "Welfare"

In English, we say "Wellness"

We are speaking about one and the same here.

I've already spoken about the Italian spa experience, one that I will revisit next week, my swan song to Assisi, when my gal pal Giselle comes over from her home in Montefalco.  She's been a constant coach during my stay here, telling me over and over to "relax" and to not worry as much as I am prone to do.  She practically took a sledge hammer to me.  But now, I am relaxed and a lot more carefree than I was when I arrived.  She's going to be proud of how well I can do the spa circuit.

For years, during my career, I was considered a "Wellness Subject Matter Expert".  I set up programs for employees and taught assiduously the tenets of total wellness, that it had very little to do with how one felt physically; it was so much more, a combination of physical, mental, spiritual and social.  So, I really am familiar with all the spokes on the wheel.

Yesterday, I practiced what I have been preaching.  Made a date with my friend Silvia, a gorgeous forty year old German woman who, along with a little help from her husband, runs a B&B up in the nether-reaches of Assisi.  More about that later.

Got picked up at the little bus stop bench near the Porta Perlici (aka, the street where I live), and off we went, me and One-of-the-Most-Skillful-Drivers-I've-Ever-Met.  I am totally comfortable in the passenger seat of cars driven by everyone who lives in Umbria.  They make my daughter-in-law, who's been known to speeeeeed, look like Minnie Mouse.  But, for some reason, Silvia has special skills and I own a Volkswagen so what can I tell you.  We zigged and we zagged and before long we arrived in the town of Foligno, a place I had visited years ago but had mostly forgotten everything about.  Two girls on the run, she, after a busy Summer being the perfect hostess, and me, seeking for both of us, a true girlie day.

It all started when Giselle showed up at her birthday party a few days after my arrival and all I could say, after not having seen her in two years was......"WHERE DID YOU GET THAT GLITTER EYELINER??????" Okay, I also did say "Happy Birthday Gorgeous" and then back to the basics....glitter!!  In the U.S., we have Sephora.  In Italy, it's Kiko-Milano.  A smaller chain.  Cheaper too.  But, needless to say, there isn't a shop here in the center of Assisi.  St. Clare would have frowned and from all that I have read (and read, and read), she rarely frowned.

Ah, back to wellness......let me just say that by the time we left the Kiko shop in Foligno, we pretty much looked ready for Las Vegas.  Buy three, get three free (they have embraced "Black Friday" here).  Silver glitter, gold glitter, lipsticks.....Mamma Mia!

Our next wellness stop was lunch at the lovely little Osteria del Teatro where we took care of our physical need to have the most delicate and delicious pastas, prepared by Pierino who put a tiny dent in our bliss when he told us that he wasn't serving the chocolate souffle today.  He felt our pain and compensated with a complimentary chocolate semifreddo.  After our lunch we asked him to show us "the cellar" as I had been advised to do.  Down, down, down we went to a circular, domed, chilly room that he told us was constructed a mere 700 years ago, and used as the refrigerator for what we assumed had been a palazzo.  Not even creepy.

See, I told you it wasn't even creepy

My partner in crime or, the pursuit of benessere

A few errands, a stop at a Eurospin grocery store (where they actually had chestnut flour and zucchini flowers) and then off to Le Ginestre, the fabulous home of Silvia (leginestre-assisi.com) where we were greeted by a fleet of cats and a very happy dog named Mia.  A tour of the beautiful, and I do mean BEEEutiful home, surrounded by an abundant supply of vegetation, terraces, swimming pool and what looks like and I know is, a lot of work for my friend.  It was nearing dusk and time for Mia's walk up, up and up a long trail which led to the most fabulous views.  Not only was Mia a lively companion, so were at least three of the cats who darted in between my legs and played together as we made our way.

The back of Le Ginestere.  Breath-taking views from here.

Our day was absolute perfection.  Two girls looking for a good time, Umbrian style.  I could hardly wait to get up this morning to apply my make up.

Guazzetto or....Stew's the Word

My Italian lesson for the day.

"Isabella, if I say 'tu" when I am addressing you, why does one say 'te adoro?'

"It's a kind of dialect"

Good grief, now I have to learn not only proper Italian but also dialect.  I just recently nailed down  "essere" which is the to-be verb.  Between that and the to-have, "avere", I have very little and io sono trying very hard to enhance my language skills.  I do better with each trip here but will never, ever be fluent and will always remain totally lost when listening to fast- paced Italians.  Piano (slow) piano, I beg.

So, that brings me to Italian T.V.

I rarely watch network television when at home.  I'm a PBS person and that reminds me, I'm way behind on Poldark!!  Re-runs will have a new meaning in my life.  But, I'm alone most evenings here and have succumbed to the habit of using the tube as company.  After several evenings of trying my patience (same commercials over and over just as in the States), I landed on ALICE (pronounced ALeeeechee), the food network.  Okay, so I don't always know what the cooks are saying, but I can watch them and figure it out.  These people have become my dearest friends and they always work in pairs, one cooking, the other entertaining and, most of the young men are quite hunky, making me wonder if they started as chefs or became chefs for the sake of attracting an audience.  Hmmmm.

Simone Rugiati hosts "Rugiati Code' during which he unveils the "codes" of a new kitchen, freewheeling between cuisine and entertainment (they all do, for that matter).  Picture Sting, in the kitchen.  Sort of.

Then, there's Mattia Poggi, adorable host of "La Gola Il Gusto".  Mattia cooks in a different region each show, using different local products to create unusual and new dishes.  Not your mamma's lasagne!

Marco Valletta and his chatty sidekick, Franca Rizzi, host "Casa Alice".  She is demonstrative and amusing in that she is so focused on the camera during their show.  She's like the friend you hate to love.

And then, there's my T.V. friend, Patrizia.  Her show, "Fish Dynasty" is a blend of a short cooking demo by a talented young man who produces the most unusual and easy recipes for the fish that she sells in her shop, located in the heart of Rome.  The show shows us day to day life of a fishmonger from the arrival of the fish to customer service.  We're introduced to friends and family, often getting a glimpse of family celebrations at the home of Patrizia and her husband with whom she appears to be totally in love.  I suppose that's why the show is called "Fish Dynasty". There are lots of family members involved in this production and Patrizia is the "star" of her show. Oh, and the "Dynasty" theme music makes it even more appealing.


Hey, food is a way that we all connect.  Just sitting here this morning, I've been collecting recipes from Isabella and I've gotta say, I'm ready for the market and for making of the ragu!

Te adore Isabella.  In other words, Love YA!

Ahead

Or.....Baby, it's cold out there.......but I'm not going to whine.

Yes, this morning it was cold and windy.  Kind of like a November day on Cape Cod but not as cold or windy as it might be at West Dennis Beach.  The kind of day that makes me glad I brought a warm coat, hat, gloves and scarves.  Good thinking on my part.  When I stopped in the cafe to chat over cappuccino with Isabella, she commented on how she sees people out on the Piazza San Rufino, her doorstep, inappropriately dressed and complaining about how cold they are.  She's right.  What are these people going to do when Winter officially arrives?

I have to make it abundantly clear, that I am not on a "vacation".  I have not taken a break from reality nor have I forgotten for one nanno-second that in two weeks I will return to my home and will take up where I left off.  Since I have been here, I lost a friend to an early and unexpected death, and my father took a fall in his new "home" which we try not to call "the nursing home," with surgery for a fractured hip as the result.  Me here, him, there.  It's been hard but my brother and husband are the newest candidates for sainthood.  I'm here on a mission. Not on a merry-go-round. Not in a hurry.  The only one I'm going to meet is myself.  I'm pretty proud of the person I know I am because I have taken the time.  Strength and courage.  I like the combo.  Pretty good way to finish celebrating my big birthday.

I've had loads of time to think about lots of things. I'm almost ready to come home.  Three more friends are headed here and I look forward to their arrivals but when it's over, it's over and I will return to my home equipped, hopefully, for the Winter.  My love affair with Italy is far from over but this is not my home and this is not my country.  I'm eager to be back on the time clock with which I am familiar, eager to live in only one time zone at a time.  Presently, thanks to technology and FaceTime, I'm living on European and American zones simultaneously and the days are very long.  I'm ready to return to the non-metric way of measuring things, to the non-military-clock way of telling time.  I'm ready for my boring life and my little condo.  I'm ready for the loving arms of my husband and the eye-rolls of my pre-adolescent granddaughters when I tell them stories.

For now, I'm settled in.  It has taken this long to really establish a pattern of behavior that suits me. I have had a constant flow of people, in and out of what has been playfully referred to as "The Guardino Condo, Assisi".  I've done my best to act as an unofficial tour guide and have spent time, made memories, with friends who have joined my heart here.  Not every minute was blissful but every minute was beautiful.  I finally got a list of what days what types of trash get picked up. I know shortcuts to the grocery store. I don't feel the need to be outdoors all day and appreciate my quiet hours, alone. My current life has a little cadence to it and this is exactly what I needed.

For the first time in a long time, I will not be living in fear when I hear the weather forecasts, predicting snow and wind, probable power failures.  I will know that my father is safe and that he will not have to weather any more storms alone. Like it or not, he will be taken care of in his new home.

So, for me, the arrival of the cold here, the little gusts of wind that blow leaves and papers down the tiny streets, remind me that yes, another Winter is begging the Autumn season to let go.  I'm reminded with every whirl of air, every chill that wraps itself in between my layers, that a new season in my life is ahead and that I have done all that I can to prepare my soul for it.

Two Roads

I'm writing this from the cafe down the cobblestoned street from my apartment.  Before coming to Italy, I made a little promise to myself, that I would have cappuccino on as many mornings as possible, and this is my go-to place.  Isabella, the woman who seems to LIVE here, has become a friend.  She teaches me Italian words, expressions and correct pronunciation.  If there is a new poster on the board, advertising a local happening, she helps me with locations as well.  Of all the things I will miss, it will be this place and this person.  She has taught me so much more than words, she has also taught me kindness and trust. Yesterday sucked all of my cash and cash machines are few and far between.  So, this morning, all I had in cash was 1.30Euro.  Just short of a cappuch.  Without missing a beat she told me to stop by any time later and pay when I do, to not worry now -" just have your cappuccino!"

So, this is a warm and friendly place for me to write.  It's not busy, especially early in the morning, and I feel as if I am in the company of someone I've known all my life.

The perfect week, number three, is drawing to a close, today being Saturday.  It was a busy one and the weather, sunshine and blue skies.  It's getting colder, more Winter-like and the tile floors in the apartment hold that cold.  The evening air is filled with that special aroma that comes from wood-burning fireplaces, found in home kitchens and dining rooms in Umbria.  Fuel is expensive here, almost as bad as the taxes the Italians pay on every, every thing. There are times when I question the ability of the people who live here to sustain themselves but then again, this IS Italy and they ARE Italians so what's up with me?

I had and still have, a list of "objectives" for this visit.  Things I really want to nail down, find out more about, savor and enjoy. Some left over stuff from previous visits hang on to that list and beg for my attention.  One of those is the trip through the Bosco di San Francesco that I promised myself. I saved this one for my friend's visit, knowing that they also might enjoy a walk in the woods.

The Bosco (woods) di San Francesco is a "sacred landscape", an area made up of forests, olive groves, cultivated fields, hills, plains, farmhouses and little parish churches. Typically Italian. The entrance is found through an arched opening in a wall that is adjacent to the Basilica.  Posters of informtionin tell visitors that the land was donated to the Fondo Ambiente Italiano, the FAI, Italy's National Trust,in 2008.When the land became available, natural beauty was soon discovered. Acres of land that had not been cared for grew more beautiful once landscape experts and architects found the right balance between the past and the present.  Damages caused by years of neglect were repaired and everything done was done in a way that would allow future visitors to discover the way land lends itself to human life. This is not a simple stroll.  This is one that becomes an interior journey as paths bring you deeper and deeper into the natural showcase.  Sights and sounds of the woods, and only of the woods, allow for meditation and for a full appreciation of the relationship between mankind and the natural world.

We followed the route to the Pont di Santa Croce and, after a break, turned around, backtracking together until we came to a tiny bridge called the Ponte dei Galli.  It was here that I was faced with a choice as I discovered a cut off to the right of the main path.  Should I continue along with my friends, safe in the knowledge that the route would eventually lead back to the starting point or......should I take the low path, the one that I kind of figured would lead "somewhere"?  On a tree at that junction I spotted the red and white trail marker that indicates a path used by the C.A.I. (Club Alpino Italiano). I tossed the idea of going on alone in my head for about thirty seconds and then, from out of nowhere came the voice....."you only live once".  I bid my good-byes to my friends and took off along the dried up river, traversing a very narrow path.  This was not a route for novice hikers.  It twisted, inclined, leveled and took me up some narrow and slippery rock paths.  I bent under tree branches, lost the trail a few times, and finally came out into civilization WAY, far away from the Bosco entrance.  A pee in the woods helped prepare me for the rest of the very long walk back home.  I had not anticipated this whole adventure and had worn a cashmere sweater that morning - it's been getting chilly here.  Bright sunshine forced me to stop along the way and remove the sweater, literally in the middle of a street. That's how warm it got!  You don't need all the details. Trust me, I did not embarrass any American women in the process!

I chose the road less traveled.  It sure did make a difference. This whole experience has been about roads less traveled, about realizing my own strengths and weaknesses.  I have that much more confidence, I have that much more respect for nature and for myself.

Wednesday night found us in Heaven - just another night in Assisi....

A flyer was circulating around Assisi, advertising a free concert at the Basilica of San Francesco.  The Choir of the Cathedral of the Madeleine all the way from Salt Lake City, Utah, would be performing works of Palestrina, Bach and Poulenc in addition to others at six o'clock on Wednesday.

So, Jack, Marie and I set out into the early evening, the sky above us a shade of sapphire blue that only happens up here in the hills.  With tour busses long gone,  Assisi lent herself willingly to all who would appreciate her.  We strolled our  way down to the Piazza San Francesco and entered the magnificent, Gothic-styled thirteenth century Upper Basilica where we took our seats in anticipation of the start of the concert. And then, the organ started, the choir walked in softly and took their places.  Men, and children of all ages, donned in choir robes, fanned out across the front altar of what is considered to be the most beautiful and famous in the world. Powerful voices of young people handled difficult lyrics and hauntingly beautiful music skillfully. What an honor and privilege to be sitting in that seat in one of the world's most beautiful places. Eyes closed. To say it was dream-like would be accurate.  Yikes.

The concert was one of three that this group is giving in Italy as part of the International Pilgrimage/Performance Tour.  Their school is a private, K-8 combination of education and music, and is located in the heart of downtown Salt Lake City.  The choir was established in 1966 with music education fashioned after the European Choir School model.  Acceptance to the school, therefore, includes a process of determining from an early age, a child's vocal abilities as well as academic.  I only hope that the young people in this group realize how very fortunate they are and that they will keep the memory of their visit to Italy in their minds and hearts forever.

A huge thank you to the Choir of the Cathedral of the Madeleine and to the parents and teachers who made this possible.  Travel safe!

I Do Believe

Yesterday, another beautiful gift from the weather-person, my friends Jack, Marie and I, strolled down for their first visit to my beloved San Damiano. I never tire of being there and always find comfort and wisdom from the things I witness at the tiny place where St Clare started her order.  I
enjoy sharing this experience with those who have never been but always warn them that as we descend the hill, please keep in mind that we will eventually ascend.  Never do I venture out without this in mind and without the gentle reminder.

On our way back to Assisi Center, after the ascent and the requisite observance of the olive picking in the grove that lines the road,  we neared the top of the road and I just knew what my friends were thinking.....another set of hills.  It is always at this juncture that I take great pleasure in telling the first timers "I have a wonderful surprise for you!!"  I don't let on until I drag them through a parking lot where tour busses park for the day.  We continue to make our way alongside the paved lot and then  the big reveal happens.....a double set of escalators!  You'd have to be a rock to not be pleased at this sight at that time.  The Italians are clever in that they rarely will waste anything, not least of all, electricity.  So, the escalators appear to not be working until....you step onto the first step and then, magically, the steps start to make their happy movement upwards.

Yesterday, as I, Pied Piper I have turned out to be, led my tiny pack, we took on another member. If you know me, you know I talk to strangers.  An erstwhile friend found that to be one of the things she didn't like about me but instead of ditching the habit, I said farewell to the friend.  New Friend of the day, it turns out, was a lovely American woman from Long Island, formerly from Manhattan.  Okay, game's on!  She quickly joined us in our trek and was just as eager as Jack and Marie to find out what the big deal of the day was going to be. She was equally delighted to learn about the escalator and as we chatted about her Italian visit. What usually happens when women start chatting,  we quickly revealed facts about our lives. Duh, it's me talking here.

I told Joan, my new pal, all about my visit to Assisi in 2012 and found out that she also had been here during that time frame.  She was mourning the death of Erik, her beloved husband of thirty years. I was mourning the death of my mother as previous blog posts attest.  Needless to say, I had to tack on the story of why I am now here for an extended stay.  I gave her the whole Nine Yards about how my father was falling into disrepair slowly (like the church in the 12th Century!) and the time had come for his next step,  an unwilling entry into a nursing home. I elaborated about how difficult it would have been had I been on the scene each day, with his constant pleas to take him home.  (Lynn's coming tomorrow to get me OUT of here!!).  So, my next words after my little diatribe were...."but Joan, it's all good".  Without missing a beat, she rolled up her sleeve and revealed a little white rubber band type of bracelet upon which was printed the words

"IT'S ALL GOOD"

She removed the bracelet, we embraced, and in that instant, the tiny token became mine.  It sat on my wrist when I returned to my little apartment and got the news that my dad had fallen in the nursing home earlier in the day and had broken his hip.  Surgery will be this morning.  My darling husband, our adorable nursing assistant friend and helper, and my brother who has been more than generous with his time and understanding, have all told me not to worry, that it's all covered.  He's in good hands and now will know, beyond a doubt, that he belongs in the care of professionals, something he had great difficulty understanding.

Before our jaunt to S. Damiano, we three attended Mass at the Basilica of St. Francis, one of the most sacred places on Earth, and I made my intention - I asked only that my father find peace in the decision we had to make in placing him in a nursing facility, that a way be found to convince his demented mind of this need.  It was my only prayer for the entire day.  As a nurse, I know, and have told numerous people over the years, that a hip fracture in a person of advanced age, usually starts them on the road to change.  Rarely do they return to their homes and nursing homes become the inevitable next step.

It's out of the hands of the family now.

It's all good.

The angel, Joan, told me in no uncertain words, what I longed to hear. I am, and will be for a long time, wearing the little white bracelet as a constant reminder.

I believe in angels.  This place is LOADED with them.  You just have to open your eyes and in many cases, your mouth.  It's my story, and I'm not changing it.