tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62767512024-03-19T03:47:26.005-05:00Oceanby Nina Camicninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.comBlogger9830125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-59504825775835645732024-03-18T21:04:00.005-05:002024-03-18T21:04:56.305-05:00countdown<p>I'll say this much: I picked a good time to be going away (later this week): the cold snap has settled in for the long haul here, in south central Wisconsin. Or at least for the time that I will be away. It's all a matter of unplanned luck though. I did not pick this period to travel -- it's been in the books for almost a year now and it falls on school spring break. I'm traveling with the oldest grandchild, to a country that used to be a favorite destination for Ed and me, but one that is totally unfamiliar to the girl. </p><p>We leave on Wednesday and neither of us is ready for that departure. I purchased books to get in some background reading. We've looked at none of them. Packing? Ha! </p><p>So today, after the walk to the barn...</p><p> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUfYe5odCTTSbbTRljh6mmg3vs0zKy4Jd9UKhvw5w9YCEVS4H9V68zGNPPW6RVgl6-c8LOEwxWmrOAFYlBgNe2wUfBcK00QRzkXxIoWgfZztjDbEw0XA7ECoEE_2-lvRyiDklRqpdVHpM88EwSHRSMtAK2NLUDjq0bbNxSRDHQP4iW-Ls9od86NQ/s2944/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUfYe5odCTTSbbTRljh6mmg3vs0zKy4Jd9UKhvw5w9YCEVS4H9V68zGNPPW6RVgl6-c8LOEwxWmrOAFYlBgNe2wUfBcK00QRzkXxIoWgfZztjDbEw0XA7ECoEE_2-lvRyiDklRqpdVHpM88EwSHRSMtAK2NLUDjq0bbNxSRDHQP4iW-Ls9od86NQ/w640-h638/1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And after breakfast...</p><p>(Ed's on the floor tending to a cat's needs) <br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYz2C71FbfD-jnjOcGIkT5qUwUOqMBzoIo7xI_sTaQosnfI8M_bqPwpyCFNi-UaFwSIizQZrw5XOeRZ776RJ8GnKofxm6_q5FQMCMi9NQIgV1hwLeufdHZ2U1awUDXDyi4lLtDjryWZ8kusrT2Nn0xBRV2Io9ZcZhFBz_lUCIVJ8mN-KSzi1pv_g/s3669/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYz2C71FbfD-jnjOcGIkT5qUwUOqMBzoIo7xI_sTaQosnfI8M_bqPwpyCFNi-UaFwSIizQZrw5XOeRZ776RJ8GnKofxm6_q5FQMCMi9NQIgV1hwLeufdHZ2U1awUDXDyi4lLtDjryWZ8kusrT2Nn0xBRV2Io9ZcZhFBz_lUCIVJ8mN-KSzi1pv_g/w514-h640/2.jpg" width="514" /></a><p><br /></p><p>I stare at my open suitcase and make some decisions about what to take.</p><p>And then, after school...</p><p> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq1ZFVdY8A7TiRDGSVNSN3FJemGRCBM6NXtaLlXHI_P1P3xxMqIKvGsNQZCoWlj0ZdX8FTAkUqBARiF-r76I1lSzaNeOGooT97OSlF5C7hnYpv8jY0YDACW3p9084mK_DTamz9fjH_ipIjZ7g93biIGNFe5gyzalsy9GZ0rQuZwqN92vE9O_yuA/s3779/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="717" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq1ZFVdY8A7TiRDGSVNSN3FJemGRCBM6NXtaLlXHI_P1P3xxMqIKvGsNQZCoWlj0ZdX8FTAkUqBARiF-r76I1lSzaNeOGooT97OSlF5C7hnYpv8jY0YDACW3p9084mK_DTamz9fjH_ipIjZ7g93biIGNFe5gyzalsy9GZ0rQuZwqN92vE9O_yuA/w538-h717/3.jpg" width="538" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And after an abbreviated time at the farmhouse, I take Snowdrop and Sparrow home, and I do the same for the girl: with her assistance, we pack up her bag for our trip. (What about Sparrow, you ask? Fact is, he's much less ready for such travel, nor does he particularly ask for it. His idea of adventure is very different from hers. Too, I am definitely not feeling strong enough to make such a complicated trip a success for two kids. Snowdrop was a light challenge even two years ago. By now, she is so good at managing on her own that I can have downtime each day and not worry about keeping her happy. Too, if things unravel, she can handle it.)<br /></p><p>The packing is not without guesswork. The temps in our destinations have been bouncing around a lot and we can expect some cool evenings (and a mixture of warm and cool days). How do you prepare for that? The proper attitude, in my view, is that it doesn't really matter what you pack. Take something warm for those colder days and a good pair of shoes. All else is trim. You can re-wear or wash if you're a fanatic. Yes, there's always something that you'll wish you had brought along. More often though, you work with what you have and don't give it a second thought.</p><p>In other words, packing took no time at all.</p><p><br /></p><p>In the evening I cook up my farro-cauliflower dish for supper. It's one that will have leftovers for Ed (in addition to yesterday's leftovers). He claims he doesn't need them, but I do know that he likes not to fuss with food in the evening. Reheating something in the microwave is about as simple as it gets.</p><p>We watch the next to last episodes of the least season of Loudermilk. That show has given us periods of loud laughter every evening! In your everyday, if you can find just one wee source of merriment -- you are golden.</p><p>With chocolate. And love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-62789273932915415302024-03-17T21:35:00.003-05:002024-03-17T21:35:47.180-05:00trees and greens<p>I swear, Ed loves all trees. Indiscriminately. Why else would he refuse to cut off a limb of the honey locust that overhangs my flowerbed? Why else would he be so thrilled to put in pawpaws to expand our fruit and nut tree farm? Why else would we use this day to get ready for the arrival of the persimmons trees this week? And spruces and pines a couple of weeks down the road? Because the farmette needs more trees? I hardly thinks so.</p><p>It's cold today. Significantly so. Just a couple of degrees above freezing. I have to stay happy with what blooms we have now, because we wont gain anything more in this weather.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KXIorpO03wtcmPG2z2FHqyWm14EghkY90WTwNoeDPP0pdBmwxcBEVj4hiXkxZ3d618BFjQ5P7_qW7DToGAJQbEDbVpUplz8n62CknfY_MGx1eOq_j_pMiWKsH6cK7pUAGQmZdWdzx2NBbg8uNmzWDJR0u1fT7tcZV2QxQuwJQUzLHXFTFeuBmQ/s3591/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="769" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KXIorpO03wtcmPG2z2FHqyWm14EghkY90WTwNoeDPP0pdBmwxcBEVj4hiXkxZ3d618BFjQ5P7_qW7DToGAJQbEDbVpUplz8n62CknfY_MGx1eOq_j_pMiWKsH6cK7pUAGQmZdWdzx2NBbg8uNmzWDJR0u1fT7tcZV2QxQuwJQUzLHXFTFeuBmQ/w534-h769/1.jpg" width="534" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Breakfast: reheated croissants and rolls. Perfection itself. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9gJgP8VJ-ElY_4VnysibOTo2VTdGaAaMW3OsYGPkhb7LC9uPNV3gWkUKYpRpcOsx-tCoOSHL9YgAwEz8B7k9135FAwnbXfhSCLh0qEVJEDi5St1yahjvXcYSISSyqbTZytiW2QKNhVXACJdRybdJZGRPT8OIRI_Gun3nwEL3Xfm6Mp8HbRm7wA/s2933/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9gJgP8VJ-ElY_4VnysibOTo2VTdGaAaMW3OsYGPkhb7LC9uPNV3gWkUKYpRpcOsx-tCoOSHL9YgAwEz8B7k9135FAwnbXfhSCLh0qEVJEDi5St1yahjvXcYSISSyqbTZytiW2QKNhVXACJdRybdJZGRPT8OIRI_Gun3nwEL3Xfm6Mp8HbRm7wA/w556-h698/2.jpg" width="556" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And then comes the garden exploration. First project is one that is Ed's brainchild: to put up a new strawberry station in the new orchard. We are <i>forever</i> trying to figure out how best to grow strawberries, in small quantities. For the kids and for the occasional indulgence. They no longer grow by the sheep shed (too much shade!). They did not grow well in bins on the ground (every animals that passed by ate them just before their moment of ripeness). They did not grow well in baskets on the picnic table (ditto) and last year, they did not grow well in baskets on the tree stumps because we covered them with nets and they got so tangled in them that you couldn't weed or eat anything that popped out, which was very little anyway because it was <i>such a dry summer</i>. Snowdrop would pick the <i>fraises des bois</i> routinely at the rate of one berry per day. We let her have them all because, well, there were so few that it hardly mattered. This year, Ed thought that maybe we could hang the baskets between trees in the new orchard. Thus we don't have to cover them with nets. They'll be out of reach for the chickens, chipmunks, groundhogs, etc. I see a problem with this system: too far from the water source and too far for a daily check in, but he has convinced me that it's worth a try, so we're giving it a go.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLeLN5SImqOv7SbvaUtUpUjTZ-XKPGXvd1Px7CJjsPylhM78t7MULuJ9YOtxopFEfQSoeX9kdpDtmPSE_tIZ-x9Q4EaSKDQ_0qLpZoHDLec92odmGGDa7HJoIBCqa_QwI4nJFKcZB_kB4PMl7cRbqGunuWUqU00MOR0bmdgtjZ-_KxlIBfPExjA/s3376/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="495" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLeLN5SImqOv7SbvaUtUpUjTZ-XKPGXvd1Px7CJjsPylhM78t7MULuJ9YOtxopFEfQSoeX9kdpDtmPSE_tIZ-x9Q4EaSKDQ_0qLpZoHDLec92odmGGDa7HJoIBCqa_QwI4nJFKcZB_kB4PMl7cRbqGunuWUqU00MOR0bmdgtjZ-_KxlIBfPExjA/w724-h495/3.jpg" width="724" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Next project: update our tree planting map. Perhaps you'll remember that about five years ago we began tearing into the land back of the barn, planting a total of some 60 trees. Hickory, hazelnut, chestnut, walnut, plus a few maples. Because Ed had the idea that we could tap syrup from the maples when we're like about 90+ years old (when they reach maturity, which will happen after we've turned into stardust, but I admire his optimism). Since then, most of the hickories have said "nope, this terrain is inhospitable, good bye." We've replaced them with more walnuts, and last year -- Ed replaced and added pawpaws. And we've put in the pines and spruces at the northern border. Half of those failed. It was a bad year to be planting trees (away from a steady water source: Ed has to wheel buckets to the trees to water them, which, predictably, he did not do often enough during our drought year).</p><p>I should note that all these trees were babies when we planted them! I mean, really wee ones. So that even the ones that grew, did not show much of a spurt in our tough climate. They're still babies!</p><p>This year, Ed wants to move out the last of the maples and replace them with the persimmons. Plus we want to replace the failed firs. We bought bigger trees and we plan on watering them, even if it takes buckets upon buckets of water delivery all summer long. </p><p>And so we set to work. We mark the trees that have to be moved out. We find places for the soon to arrive persimmons. We makes sure there are spots for the firs. </p><p>Yes, it is good to be outside, good to be engaged in farmette planning with Ed, and terrible to be out on this very windy and freezing day! After our walk through the "new nut forest," we give up any thought of working outside. It's just too cold.</p><p>I turn my attention to dinner preparation. In the warm kitchen. Dumb outdoors...<br /></p><p>And yes it's St. Patrick's Day. Yes, people like to go green on this day. I do none of that. We have a birthday in the family today, but not in Madison, so all I can do with that one is send happy thoughts and wishes via the magic connections that we now have available to us. And dinner has nothing green in it except for the grown-up salad. (are you surprised that none of the kids especially like salad?).</p><p>They come toward evening, but of course, it's light outside now. And that in itself is lovely!</p><p><br /></p><p>(ah! I see a bit of green on them!)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdy-151miQUm2RhK-kf9D_bcIXRJaY84osnR7zTAWu-9ba7gIiHaRlsnFm95gIEfO-nRgfefdAJCZ1kYMOjAT4diTkEgkwrVEHLdofuaHCZae00SX7TLQfU3EzvcpU0h2KeGgvzadtuvSfZA9AFyvdrnkUmou7C1yUw4zO2-kYREMaA5ASFQ3dkw/s2979/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdy-151miQUm2RhK-kf9D_bcIXRJaY84osnR7zTAWu-9ba7gIiHaRlsnFm95gIEfO-nRgfefdAJCZ1kYMOjAT4diTkEgkwrVEHLdofuaHCZae00SX7TLQfU3EzvcpU0h2KeGgvzadtuvSfZA9AFyvdrnkUmou7C1yUw4zO2-kYREMaA5ASFQ3dkw/w640-h508/4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Ed's out locking up the hens, we dive in...)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlfZMeozlZmqNmJEJ3dt3QFdTxFzsXOOAqNM8guGnXd0ulbGfJ4D_ha2CpcDtMsPS_8mnkq6LrfeoFMdCg0bubwA6R6FmOx3y7lmOBKSpkmntEsXrYX8Z1cki9OvTpmlcU8LH_aJH6swm9zwgXcJn1ulYPj5wYpfdv0mBHPYXFzA6CcIDZ1m3JCQ/s4180/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlfZMeozlZmqNmJEJ3dt3QFdTxFzsXOOAqNM8guGnXd0ulbGfJ4D_ha2CpcDtMsPS_8mnkq6LrfeoFMdCg0bubwA6R6FmOx3y7lmOBKSpkmntEsXrYX8Z1cki9OvTpmlcU8LH_aJH6swm9zwgXcJn1ulYPj5wYpfdv0mBHPYXFzA6CcIDZ1m3JCQ/w824-h528/5.jpg" width="824" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>A weekend behind us. True, it ended with a bitter cold barreling in at us, but hey, it's still winter! Spring does not arrive until 10 pm our time on... Tuesday! Until then -- button up your coats, it really is cold outside.</p><p>with love...<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-12866901673752705732024-03-16T21:20:00.003-05:002024-03-16T21:20:44.279-05:00Saturday<p>Here's a fun fact: today is the last Zero day for me until... April 13th. That means that from tomorrow onwards (until the 13th) I have at least one grandchild and sometimes a whole bunch more in my schedule. This is significant for many reasons, but one especially stands out: taxes! I need to devote time to doing them because those free days aren't there for me between now and mid April. And so, when Ed asks (full of hope and curiosity) -- <i>what do you have scheduled for today?</i> I have to say, very reluctantly -- <i><span style="color: #800180;">I have to do my mom's taxes.</span></i></p><p>Now, this isn't a huge deal. It's a pain, it's boring, it's a waste of time (why do we do this each year? everyone elsewhere on the planet has found an easier way, why do we torture ourselves with such stuff?), but in the scheme of things -- it's just something that you need to muddle through. Still, I'm a little glad that it's not a beautifully warm day out there, because then I would be doubly frustrated, bored, pained. (I'll do my own on April 13th. Something to look forward to, right?)</p><p>As I said, a <i>meh</i> day weather wise.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKESNG8y3bzaG6TPkemnS-WDkPHyM7_fpOkivLQ41ITEioh1tqizIpL7HS11fj0RUb54-zMrOtvgNRMvOcw15rGOOhNK99qaQPLQCQidxnYmI-ntzMzsOjMRoz9pSf9-YcZv5HzQUTB_E2YGOXAkDahPT5u0EavchIOUTz-WpJYVyRyL6dPipbw/s3753/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKESNG8y3bzaG6TPkemnS-WDkPHyM7_fpOkivLQ41ITEioh1tqizIpL7HS11fj0RUb54-zMrOtvgNRMvOcw15rGOOhNK99qaQPLQCQidxnYmI-ntzMzsOjMRoz9pSf9-YcZv5HzQUTB_E2YGOXAkDahPT5u0EavchIOUTz-WpJYVyRyL6dPipbw/w708-h462/1.jpg" width="708" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(the new ones still choose the tall firs as their daytime safe haven)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvYK2ZkLpqDsTe2WUCUTkxpUIdUCsT4kqhfsPJxVwZJOyD1mKW1bfOZxcKGR9zzvao3p4lKndDSqmTyuLCZl5MCA0nEm1-gP_xoiASDOOICe861x_SoBwTpXQteohmmG3_czd5Yga_rTIknYMgndO6hxdnTo98Kcsr-jbSSS0ui9F2MPV4vACaQ/s3098/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="703" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvYK2ZkLpqDsTe2WUCUTkxpUIdUCsT4kqhfsPJxVwZJOyD1mKW1bfOZxcKGR9zzvao3p4lKndDSqmTyuLCZl5MCA0nEm1-gP_xoiASDOOICe861x_SoBwTpXQteohmmG3_czd5Yga_rTIknYMgndO6hxdnTo98Kcsr-jbSSS0ui9F2MPV4vACaQ/w523-h703/2.jpg" width="523" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I drive out to get bakery items, looking for that little pick me up that transforms our breakfast table into a feast (at least in our view).</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjizuHeHaYepje6K00mdDf0b_EKIKTkNu0v9FjS5m8HsNTU-RZumQUUfoqL5rigCXCizKu1pPU9ZTA18jqukmXMi0ZKQWDCSiv-ZJVHOJMdsgzxKZozpdEaGI7swaPnDCjk7NBLw9RxS6K_lKI9DpvsuxAjZrsAAXonlaSs7OCEkq8IxiW-HrionQ/s3702/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="485" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjizuHeHaYepje6K00mdDf0b_EKIKTkNu0v9FjS5m8HsNTU-RZumQUUfoqL5rigCXCizKu1pPU9ZTA18jqukmXMi0ZKQWDCSiv-ZJVHOJMdsgzxKZozpdEaGI7swaPnDCjk7NBLw9RxS6K_lKI9DpvsuxAjZrsAAXonlaSs7OCEkq8IxiW-HrionQ/w672-h485/3.jpg" width="672" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And then -- to work.</p><p>When I do the tax forms, I fall into an "I'm determined to get this dumb work done" mode and that provides enough motivation to see me through to the end. So, too, today I set as the goal finishing up my mom -- both federally and with the state of Wisconsin. Turns out the feds were easy. One hour and ten minutes. Done. </p><p>Then comes our beloved state.</p><p>A new e-filing system is in place. (This is where I start repeating "I should have just done the paper forms and sent them in.") And it is clumsy. You think you're merely filling out basic questions to see if you can e-file and suddenly you find yourself typing in numbers that are part of the filing procedure. And doing worksheets. And calculating social security deductions and medical insurance deductions. Wait, did I just fill out a form? Or was it an initial request? What the hell just happened? And then suddenly I click on next page and I can no longer go back and I get an email telling me that I have just filed a return. Really? Where is it? How come I'm not seeing a copy? Where are the calculations? And where is my damn personal copy to print out and treasure and sleep with, tucked under my pillow for safekeeping?</p><p>I should have done the paper forms and sent them in! <br /></p><p>The point is, the new system leaves you feeling incomplete. You dont know if you've filed (and if I did file, how come no one asked me to pay the $100 that she owes?). You dont know anything! Now, I am no tax accounting expert, but I've filled out these damn forms for 52 years of my life (and for a bunch of years for my mom), and I am an attorney and thus not terrified of legal forms, and if I dont understand what just happened here, then I can assure the Wisconsin Dept of Revenue that there will be others equally or even more confused.</p><p> </p><p>So I need to go to my happy place. Without Ed, because he, wisely, waited until I tested the tax waters. Besides, he has many Zero days to plunge into the tax inferno between now and April 15th. </p><p>It's very late in the afternoon before I head out, because the Wisconsin whatever it is that I did, added a few more hours to my ticking tax clock for the day. </p><p>And the wind perked up, and it was cold. But so very beautiful!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-NODOpYTS7dYb0e2DxwhgLjWARjYcP0o47xFX0zHifQumuXKzCx0zKBk_t2CAuXOaZffm3JulvuAC3mlmOOyuOIyCT6_lhgnvYC9fhdvNOM2e4DKr4W3mUhRe10-Qor2NnjUhjgzqdOOLox4ymLJxGjg1fstcVARg9BmT4DbfoPebnR3OLpClYw/s3822/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-NODOpYTS7dYb0e2DxwhgLjWARjYcP0o47xFX0zHifQumuXKzCx0zKBk_t2CAuXOaZffm3JulvuAC3mlmOOyuOIyCT6_lhgnvYC9fhdvNOM2e4DKr4W3mUhRe10-Qor2NnjUhjgzqdOOLox4ymLJxGjg1fstcVARg9BmT4DbfoPebnR3OLpClYw/w752-h522/7.jpg" width="752" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>These two kept me company.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3umYLGXkIeoaZfvoHaUjzNaeUCaR3lI_GM9uPEhuH1ywBt73Vu39lj9BDnaf5mAVA0GaWhbJ8zvj2vM_GujLW_p1WEcVaIBbWOgE6lsRGPZceXXNK3kJy33j8vIsKCCPID8CCLS-YLhWKJ-zdBd1JHBDwgccTahz4gK022Xv4OeTESPmIaw53_w/s2178/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="628" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3umYLGXkIeoaZfvoHaUjzNaeUCaR3lI_GM9uPEhuH1ywBt73Vu39lj9BDnaf5mAVA0GaWhbJ8zvj2vM_GujLW_p1WEcVaIBbWOgE6lsRGPZceXXNK3kJy33j8vIsKCCPID8CCLS-YLhWKJ-zdBd1JHBDwgccTahz4gK022Xv4OeTESPmIaw53_w/w640-h628/6.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>Oh, and I should report on what's blooming out here, on farmette lands: the first Syberian Squill is emerging out front, under the maples...</p><p><br /></p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_sh_2UAcTQheHK7sbzwx08cfS8NFc0V43obnRpkyig9w2LR9ivBJ13Z1nqv-rq8Rh3spcHGw5hNNPERrn5mylD6UQfcer-NE0q6_9dBfspwGH2tFr8FNul6z2B4EsTbGSJO5OIVjG3jLfbFt6UeLikaa6G7yQ1HWEc4t4ql9RrlUKiyo0pkuTg/s4205/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_sh_2UAcTQheHK7sbzwx08cfS8NFc0V43obnRpkyig9w2LR9ivBJ13Z1nqv-rq8Rh3spcHGw5hNNPERrn5mylD6UQfcer-NE0q6_9dBfspwGH2tFr8FNul6z2B4EsTbGSJO5OIVjG3jLfbFt6UeLikaa6G7yQ1HWEc4t4ql9RrlUKiyo0pkuTg/w640-h448/4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>And I think we can officially call tomorrow the beginning of our daffodil season. I mean, this is almost open, no?</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHz-WEPFFRP8Qsmo0_YuLaiDkzli1m3IBre3QXYTk26xRB9cv_hxcD7vhaJHNCPWgPQhh_DA-fOBaATpkNIuRwvx7b3D16nCTRTC-m53jq5D8GNtzJDruJkyr8qC3aVYLDGAB3Qm7at2aRENg5JAyxHzRm_sc7m3HiOhgbhUnwxpWrTmIc9Qm0rA/s4177/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHz-WEPFFRP8Qsmo0_YuLaiDkzli1m3IBre3QXYTk26xRB9cv_hxcD7vhaJHNCPWgPQhh_DA-fOBaATpkNIuRwvx7b3D16nCTRTC-m53jq5D8GNtzJDruJkyr8qC3aVYLDGAB3Qm7at2aRENg5JAyxHzRm_sc7m3HiOhgbhUnwxpWrTmIc9Qm0rA/w417-h590/5.jpg" width="417" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p><p>Evening quiet. Everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody loves Saturday night...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKbQdFu-neNW3Ww4eFGSbId2XZ6j3mvVESs4Y_NzovCuOeK1Lsf8JMVj5c5SVnrDMIdljQPX3TxHPa8z4tWqvYBlpc5sebbYcIAHOx_sPADDLIVK9cHddkDOXqRQCynAFn7N_MUeJ5MSl5K_m_yioq4ZuFm-G9j3vqijUyLaY4LMXYFafHSATQw/s2424/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKbQdFu-neNW3Ww4eFGSbId2XZ6j3mvVESs4Y_NzovCuOeK1Lsf8JMVj5c5SVnrDMIdljQPX3TxHPa8z4tWqvYBlpc5sebbYcIAHOx_sPADDLIVK9cHddkDOXqRQCynAFn7N_MUeJ5MSl5K_m_yioq4ZuFm-G9j3vqijUyLaY4LMXYFafHSATQw/w640-h508/8.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-27363611388943783872024-03-15T20:57:00.003-05:002024-03-16T09:03:45.400-05:00Friday<p>We all know who the "happy people" in our lives are. The one who invariably make us content, who force smiles onto our faces when we're in their presence. <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ocean</span></b> readers certainly can guess mine: kids, grandkids, Ed. My close to the heart friends. Easy peasy. But how about happy <i>places</i>? Spots where you can count on finding peace, tranquility, warmth, contentment. Do you have one or two? Or more? </p><p>I was thinking about these places today: I return to them often because they provide comfort and joy routinely. I'd have to be pretty down in the dumps not to think to myself -- it feels so good to be here!</p><p>Happy places. At the farmhouse, there are a handful: in the summer -- the porch. At all other times -- the kitchen table. In the evenings -- the couch. (I know! It takes so little!) Elsewhere? Our local park, and especially along the standard loop we do -- through the prairie and up the hill. Farther afield -- my hotel room at Le Baume in Paris. A table at lunchtime at Cafe Varenne. I suppose any well tended garden, but now I'm stretching to the probable, rather than the surefire hits.</p><p>There is magic in those happy places. They cause you to push aside the fretting, the yowling thoughts, the dreadful images from, say, a newscast earlier on. They always remind me -- yes, but there's also this to life...</p><p>Yesterday, Anne Lamott wrote another piece in the Washington Post about aging. (She is nearly exactly my age.) She wrote about routinely taking walks along a creek with a friend whom she has known since childhood. One line stuck in my head, one she quoted from another source -- when you're really pounded from all sides and you wonder -- what's the point? Where's the joy? This person thought for a while and answered -- <i>well, there's always the morning</i>.</p><p>Indeed! There's the morning where you wake up to a new day. And there's the porch and the bench in our courtyard (don't let me forget the bench!). And there's our local park, to which we return again and again, Ed and I, and each time we finish our loop I say, so very sincerely -- <i><span style="color: #800180;">that was just beautiful</span></i>!</p><p><br /></p><p>(today's walk)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3KjUq49J0N0tjlGqYvY5GF-WU_sXGPv4HUviAgZWodhVmNytcTTRbDgW7Uvc82ZHnhV-R80zOZx4DTEYzlRYWaSm5Omn-Af_TtrCt8IV0pRK63Au6K2paloUg8LX7GUFxrWU3IrshEvyVGj9Ge2AiTdF20aBgKkSXo1V-e5hz4wIZJQJhYrhygQ/s3568/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="527" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3KjUq49J0N0tjlGqYvY5GF-WU_sXGPv4HUviAgZWodhVmNytcTTRbDgW7Uvc82ZHnhV-R80zOZx4DTEYzlRYWaSm5Omn-Af_TtrCt8IV0pRK63Au6K2paloUg8LX7GUFxrWU3IrshEvyVGj9Ge2AiTdF20aBgKkSXo1V-e5hz4wIZJQJhYrhygQ/w686-h527/7.jpg" width="686" /></a><p><br /></p><p>It's a sunny day. Cool, but who cares! That's spring out there!<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7RrAvttLiGoHryfCUA_dkrxk1Ybfsgd2-pbcEjHL2P9EyuWuWzthg3P04sK2VQV_Y3qC6wNrUpWPi_fSB9SMADJ_k2j2F9eUADhtKPPSm9H3ULRhNrhAl9aP1w_MwUB-WsxeZrtdTQIuVSvGvHXRTvnbod-1ZTA3pfLviC9cYeE9YJY7ghy9HQ/s4183/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="563" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7RrAvttLiGoHryfCUA_dkrxk1Ybfsgd2-pbcEjHL2P9EyuWuWzthg3P04sK2VQV_Y3qC6wNrUpWPi_fSB9SMADJ_k2j2F9eUADhtKPPSm9H3ULRhNrhAl9aP1w_MwUB-WsxeZrtdTQIuVSvGvHXRTvnbod-1ZTA3pfLviC9cYeE9YJY7ghy9HQ/w801-h563/1.jpg" width="801" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>The hens are happy once again. The crocuses are exploding with their brilliance. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8Fc9xQG3OCCza5PjqWdmcrT88uV7aiYJTnsb2Jsj7gLNsHnogy5MKhFH5c5O02ULRtJGpYGQy23hcLkJChaHPdalZbyl9rLD_RTJi7x2WA_Zp833DFKAX0gtKvPjk5CVvPvF5CWK1-cXZr-fTAI-Qh_sedVtNsHvL-CiVVANPzWIijP2MVKT0Q/s4093/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8Fc9xQG3OCCza5PjqWdmcrT88uV7aiYJTnsb2Jsj7gLNsHnogy5MKhFH5c5O02ULRtJGpYGQy23hcLkJChaHPdalZbyl9rLD_RTJi7x2WA_Zp833DFKAX0gtKvPjk5CVvPvF5CWK1-cXZr-fTAI-Qh_sedVtNsHvL-CiVVANPzWIijP2MVKT0Q/w460-h640/3.jpg" width="460" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoRW1fGuG7F9UazypEWL7_4w0vM0lqfRrwQ-ZOB764Xpul1HOta8KALgG0WpUTCm2wutPBVwmi2ZsAe-RuIr-MxKn63LwYezcEH99M3O4t820TFqQXkbRyzY1OBd8IC1ybMXe5aa3zIPMfvsH_JakfwuLiTlkj5QufMBnNcyYj1uJfAxJLwMliw/s3242/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoRW1fGuG7F9UazypEWL7_4w0vM0lqfRrwQ-ZOB764Xpul1HOta8KALgG0WpUTCm2wutPBVwmi2ZsAe-RuIr-MxKn63LwYezcEH99M3O4t820TFqQXkbRyzY1OBd8IC1ybMXe5aa3zIPMfvsH_JakfwuLiTlkj5QufMBnNcyYj1uJfAxJLwMliw/w515-h430/4.jpg" width="515" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>(the daffodils? almost!)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJyhGQIGv3NP98Vk71N5nP3UAdRMUXQHjRcMROFwOfbhsVYmd9JJQbDFmSWdTnZp0NSYlABVZavAEpP9-D6iPYyfZnPypyaNAaT4HizGtRSgrpgvtqwIbq0mjqo3AzzEL1j1_EAMu6qFQrhoHZiOMWUexXq5WbXDfKsPmhNl4v4wyzwiIy65V5KQ/s3692/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJyhGQIGv3NP98Vk71N5nP3UAdRMUXQHjRcMROFwOfbhsVYmd9JJQbDFmSWdTnZp0NSYlABVZavAEpP9-D6iPYyfZnPypyaNAaT4HizGtRSgrpgvtqwIbq0mjqo3AzzEL1j1_EAMu6qFQrhoHZiOMWUexXq5WbXDfKsPmhNl4v4wyzwiIy65V5KQ/w510-h640/2.jpg" width="510" /></a><br /> <br /></p><p> </p><p>Ed and I start our morning with breakfast, still in the kitchen. It will be another month before we dare venture out on the porch.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN68vuKkkCHTiFgTtOTQqPmVulHbeZOp6pcdMC27VA83l8PQQR2yf1glIGzdH2h0KxLlzfVAW-cg7ZX_xYtx3ZEYuWuGDxXDszTNNsj-C14KhVkU1d6v_k5ICjIOVgsSQoC6qEhrAVQcH6SZttCuhQ1QmWWxIr5y0iO1jDprCBjeEa5Zl94wtLOA/s3957/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="684" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN68vuKkkCHTiFgTtOTQqPmVulHbeZOp6pcdMC27VA83l8PQQR2yf1glIGzdH2h0KxLlzfVAW-cg7ZX_xYtx3ZEYuWuGDxXDszTNNsj-C14KhVkU1d6v_k5ICjIOVgsSQoC6qEhrAVQcH6SZttCuhQ1QmWWxIr5y0iO1jDprCBjeEa5Zl94wtLOA/w509-h684/5.jpg" width="509" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And we go out for our walk. In the park. Content.</p><p> </p><p>In the afternoon, the kids are here. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEN7fIGga5BwSCchQmZh0EOo2t1ATaCy6KV4hLVJQ_17SQ4StsriLnpvFo17LCD_kMti-kd-XcNzCEuDvCjvbVXIBbGwegTsD35EIA16lojVg5AZJFI7ZM7M-pHgnqIZtuHvsw0R5D5rmzN1xv_uvHYYcsz4XznB6QvvE6u-DXynpU_vjHNmTwbw/s3899/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="701" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEN7fIGga5BwSCchQmZh0EOo2t1ATaCy6KV4hLVJQ_17SQ4StsriLnpvFo17LCD_kMti-kd-XcNzCEuDvCjvbVXIBbGwegTsD35EIA16lojVg5AZJFI7ZM7M-pHgnqIZtuHvsw0R5D5rmzN1xv_uvHYYcsz4XznB6QvvE6u-DXynpU_vjHNmTwbw/w506-h701/6.jpg" width="506" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>As we start in on the next volume of the Greenhouse ghostly-mystery series (I wanted to postpone, but she begged!), Snowdrop throws a glance at my side table, where I keep my KenKen math book. <i>Gaga! I just did those puzzles in school today! Aren't they fun? </i>(For those who did not read this on <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ocean</span></b> -- KenKen logic puzzles appear daily in the NYTimes and they come highly recommended for those who don't want to slip into math nothingness as they get older!)<br /></p><p>I am so glad that I am keeping up with my math abilities. </p><p>So ends the week. Actually, extremely well for me. Remember the bike ride Ed and I took on Monday to Paoli? Remember my words of wisdom to you on Tuesday? (Never do medical testing the day after you've done an even moderately strenuous activity...) Well now. I had a week of alarm bells going off as those high in the medical profession studied my results. Finally, the most wise and sensible of them all (my own doc) said -- <i>repeat the test when her muscles have recovered after the ride</i>. I did. Alarm bells were quickly silenced.</p><p><br /></p><p>And now for my happy space. The couch. With Ed's toes digging into me, because he prefers a reclining position. </p><p>With love.<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-65699217588387723982024-03-14T20:40:00.000-05:002024-03-14T20:40:01.458-05:00Thursday<p>Of the three, which would you choose for your (more or less) daily routine: ballet, yoga, or tai chi? </p><p>So, now that you've chosen one, fess up! Do you do it? Why not?</p><p>I'd been a yoga fan for a long time. There's just no doubt about it -- it's good for maintaining flexibility. But with a knee that no longer bends at more than a right angle, it's a struggle to get motivated. I mean, if you can't do a child's pose, then where's the fun? </p><p>I tried ballet this fall and I liked it! But it felt meditative with a tiny bit of flexibility built into it, rather than being physically challenging. I'm sure that those who practice ballet at a more advanced level will roll their eyes at my assessment, but for a beginner, the plies and frappes and tendus are only a very mild workout. I still go back to it, but more to achieve some semblance of calm rather than muscle strength. </p><p>So now comes the third horse that's about to be unleashed out of the starting gate: tai chi. If yoga is for flexibility, they say that tai chi is for strength, especially cardiovascular strength. Sounds like something everyone could use, no?</p><p>As usual, I dig into the YouTube material first. Ah! No special clothes required! That's good! I can fail and there will be no financial investment. But, as I watch the video, I wonder -- can you really do this on your own? I've watched so many ballet classes in my life (my daughter's my grandkids') that I sort of know the drill there. Yoga? I've taken enough classes to keep me more or less at some stable place of capability. But tai chi? I know next to nothing about it! How do I even pick a good video? </p><p>I watch a few. There's still knee activity, but perhaps I can adjust. Or, maybe you have some good tips on where to begin? Or perhaps you want to steer me away from tai chi in favor of... whatever! Drop me a note. I'm on the lookout for some added movement!</p><p><br /></p><p>Meanwhile we have ourselves a quiet, rainy day.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFk5OeslwzeK6VlO825MtXk16Lj8UJE4q1yaAIfdalmYk583rUJ6w3dFFZggV0KyufTVSSsSxehxb91bdhb70xY0meuRb9BKq5QVla2OWD2HsJ14UO5kqPsiC6kv9zVvU2fJm5npzWbK5ZOfIO1Ys59zfD2dXe8yPcrIYvHGC1lEYtBerxpeuHGw/s3842/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="726" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFk5OeslwzeK6VlO825MtXk16Lj8UJE4q1yaAIfdalmYk583rUJ6w3dFFZggV0KyufTVSSsSxehxb91bdhb70xY0meuRb9BKq5QVla2OWD2HsJ14UO5kqPsiC6kv9zVvU2fJm5npzWbK5ZOfIO1Ys59zfD2dXe8yPcrIYvHGC1lEYtBerxpeuHGw/w556-h726/1.jpg" width="556" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>The hens look out, turn around, stay in the barn. Crocuses fold up their flower heads and wait for it to pass. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_P44bJAXBV7isarT9K0z2OIREpUY7I8vIT8bOf8OFKQJxA6VDXm0ln5TZ2qWlFZnyyER67zCrNoNObQJr7jqPAVWf8dDmC9u2kfcBJsndal6blM9BXVHBiv_sF1x8YhFo1WjcSohdgrvOuA4ivi2ko1HUT1JdDxhwSHsIxl-pg1P1Mz4jThtzA/s3384/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_P44bJAXBV7isarT9K0z2OIREpUY7I8vIT8bOf8OFKQJxA6VDXm0ln5TZ2qWlFZnyyER67zCrNoNObQJr7jqPAVWf8dDmC9u2kfcBJsndal6blM9BXVHBiv_sF1x8YhFo1WjcSohdgrvOuA4ivi2ko1HUT1JdDxhwSHsIxl-pg1P1Mz4jThtzA/w640-h490/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Oatmeal for breakfast. I mean, it's only right for a day like this!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HQPj2ZzqxsuaxTbayvyRgI7Rua8Lqh65k1QgyuOTYYCoC00zjAU4LUlYpAaFd_mMPsHnH2AJN21aPUrXN2CgNcKMH2WQKgw2CWdAxCZhyphenhyphenPDwqWsjrwDFclkFz0HKregcy7Y7baHvXY27qiodKYzf-gImz4iBFGngnz6pvKboHr_FxogkCakzBA/s3993/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HQPj2ZzqxsuaxTbayvyRgI7Rua8Lqh65k1QgyuOTYYCoC00zjAU4LUlYpAaFd_mMPsHnH2AJN21aPUrXN2CgNcKMH2WQKgw2CWdAxCZhyphenhyphenPDwqWsjrwDFclkFz0HKregcy7Y7baHvXY27qiodKYzf-gImz4iBFGngnz6pvKboHr_FxogkCakzBA/w707-h446/3.jpg" width="707" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And then I do my ballet, watch Tai Chi videos and take out my KenKen math puzzles (recommended by someone with exceptional math abilities!). I chose Volume 3, because it's called <i>Stressless</i> KenKen puzzles, with the subtitle: "Mind Stimulating Logic Puzzles That Make You Smarter." Yeah! Two down, 198 to go.</p><p><br /></p><p>I pick up very wet kids in the afternoon. </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAgpoVv4VCj8YXbeS_QAuQiU7J8riTNfXpO6xp1eOTLM6YPos29c6s2nY_qlPa074CpJWjXbKIvKVQUASyoW2t0l1XoVPYS2yMxp0MiCJxGAxf2yzatBDryE54-qTsivqkUigIclPZvTddhS11VGhX2uzcBOFs2j7LWLnofgH48f90uNa2e91TA/s3539/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAgpoVv4VCj8YXbeS_QAuQiU7J8riTNfXpO6xp1eOTLM6YPos29c6s2nY_qlPa074CpJWjXbKIvKVQUASyoW2t0l1XoVPYS2yMxp0MiCJxGAxf2yzatBDryE54-qTsivqkUigIclPZvTddhS11VGhX2uzcBOFs2j7LWLnofgH48f90uNa2e91TA/w532-h640/4.jpg" width="532" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>(a girl who loves rain...)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKWZqBKT_0z1mxr-hZQJjGsAvUjemO8kV3XVJ2Qch4bo7YRh-SsoFV00uja3P8HYB_5N4b718urFhSoU1NijRBdNMqOI7-akq7IajaWG2j2YodfArfNQEu3wbifKBstSjR283kZFeGbWUCUPjaE2CH_DiVA7j33y4BiXv2cd6hyphenhyphenKFClvgV9tMhA/s4139/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="713" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKWZqBKT_0z1mxr-hZQJjGsAvUjemO8kV3XVJ2Qch4bo7YRh-SsoFV00uja3P8HYB_5N4b718urFhSoU1NijRBdNMqOI7-akq7IajaWG2j2YodfArfNQEu3wbifKBstSjR283kZFeGbWUCUPjaE2CH_DiVA7j33y4BiXv2cd6hyphenhyphenKFClvgV9tMhA/w504-h713/5.jpg" width="504" /></a><br /> </p><p> <br /></p><p>They are full of talk about leprechauns. These Irish mythical creatures may have had some standing in Ireland when my kids were growing up, but luckily, they did not make it to the homes of south-central Wisconsin families. In other words, I didn't have to deal with them on St. Patrick's Day. Since my girls have some Irish blood in them (not from me!), I made it an annual thing to dance a jig with them on March 17th. When they were older, they pulled out something green to wear. That's it. Not so this generation of American kids! They want to create leprechaun traps. They want to imagine that this green clad little fellow will come to their home at night. So I nod and smile and wish their parents luck! Cleaning up after a leprechaun who messes up your house while you sleep on the eve of St Patrick's Day. Fun!</p><p><br /></p><p>(their five minute fascination with the "Cat Game")</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicj2KwkIrv_zL-YqK4SCwAadqprVCuaQoaYMYgun8jqpbuQfBPKHNdgu9MOEa7OzPtTluMspNYxcUJbU0EyApKBusPowfneC7Y7ZUgCQ1799CSMuF9vhLJwSMFU2aVuqqNMK_Uu9fVVmNE_E6lbaaZ1c79onG6VypUaJJdqcnDvVF90y_xM3rKzw/s2997/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicj2KwkIrv_zL-YqK4SCwAadqprVCuaQoaYMYgun8jqpbuQfBPKHNdgu9MOEa7OzPtTluMspNYxcUJbU0EyApKBusPowfneC7Y7ZUgCQ1799CSMuF9vhLJwSMFU2aVuqqNMK_Uu9fVVmNE_E6lbaaZ1c79onG6VypUaJJdqcnDvVF90y_xM3rKzw/w640-h592/6.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcB8fuKxob0kTB4sCZmFd-KcKEDu8CsLa0MSrO8DaEaAd8xihu462VOMMV9souQfomjmeDiaMADeifUB5YlrUh6w88nbO19MBNXPpU458k6uKQKppxaKe_SlIaBJZnwlwE-ogvnVMILpj5MjPb1lTwBatq0tvxILLs4f_92KQv9De7-zk9FI6JA/s1932/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="549" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcB8fuKxob0kTB4sCZmFd-KcKEDu8CsLa0MSrO8DaEaAd8xihu462VOMMV9souQfomjmeDiaMADeifUB5YlrUh6w88nbO19MBNXPpU458k6uKQKppxaKe_SlIaBJZnwlwE-ogvnVMILpj5MjPb1lTwBatq0tvxILLs4f_92KQv9De7-zk9FI6JA/w397-h549/8.jpg" width="397" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>In the evening, I reheat soup at the farmhouse for Ed, for me. So perfect for this wet day! Veggies, swimming in a broth, with a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. And a chocolate for dessert. March has been kind to us. We can certainly stand to put up with some cooler, wet days. For a while! </p><p>with love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-63206256062314683072024-03-13T21:11:00.000-05:002024-03-13T21:11:07.325-05:00Wednesday<p>One more "seize the day" moment. Warm, partly cloudy, lovely. Yesterday, we hit a record high of 70F (21C). Today, we're just a few degrees less than that. (Tomorrow we return to what is properly ours in March: cool, wet, cool, dry, cool wet and so on.) Ed thinks we should aim big today, but I resist anything that has us rushing like kids chasing an ice cream truck. Better to go local, moving gently from one thing to the next. Rushing belongs to those under 70!</p><p>The hens are in a good routine. All are back to treating the coop as a home base. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpRKRKyqGU8oMpjO928NmvmpF40URTWoiTFbNRgYA7Ga5p8-VBK3jomuXYkwrmxUGVN40Ste6WJgbpFf9S0yo46YeFUXDUXvR_4H_FNtruHkhi8cI24Ts6ZbO7vwwMISdXbZ-8XjL_LCS64lPU8YRlN7Ecs01TjRILBmGJb2eMAismMKanM7OfA/s3622/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="712" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpRKRKyqGU8oMpjO928NmvmpF40URTWoiTFbNRgYA7Ga5p8-VBK3jomuXYkwrmxUGVN40Ste6WJgbpFf9S0yo46YeFUXDUXvR_4H_FNtruHkhi8cI24Ts6ZbO7vwwMISdXbZ-8XjL_LCS64lPU8YRlN7Ecs01TjRILBmGJb2eMAismMKanM7OfA/w505-h712/1.jpg" width="505" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And the older girls are laying again. Weirdly, one lays huge monster eggs, the other -- small and rather oblong. Same breed, same age, same diet. Different... what? Temperament? We have no idea. The younger foursome spend the day moving between barn and the nearby fir trees. For all that crazy, wild run in every direction on their first free day here, they now seem completely disinterested in venturing out beyond this tiny stretch of land. That's just fine with me. Hiding under the firs is a great way to protect yourself from hawks. </p><p>Walk back from barn: the crocuses! Oh, the crocuses! </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGiEzZiyM1uy-mWcXjedQJPvGR7Ofe6JSQ2WmE6TwuiPI9M1R-EoVH2ZsbO_WeLtFdcvUfjTVesBS7EtHRl-vNqenyzvb259VRC8Ys06uHVhw-DJn7AkGyDj6LWp3kx71S3ySbJMOqrRdJUSjKNwTjjUr_3DKVq-i2hadfCnGMQH4hk1UuNX7LA/s4005/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGiEzZiyM1uy-mWcXjedQJPvGR7Ofe6JSQ2WmE6TwuiPI9M1R-EoVH2ZsbO_WeLtFdcvUfjTVesBS7EtHRl-vNqenyzvb259VRC8Ys06uHVhw-DJn7AkGyDj6LWp3kx71S3ySbJMOqrRdJUSjKNwTjjUr_3DKVq-i2hadfCnGMQH4hk1UuNX7LA/w640-h470/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUGlwEaZkSl8sjFSqr1lvirD7HkVou2EKs3xTunKGXr7xeYF7OLg2O4ryHz9ayRXRCfL4Ztum_pRk8vuj2OahvoZmOZlEAmdvi_ubDZa8R4mh2bmDtz4Kd4x9p0WDFvADJdddfRKlhBjhto0INn9qvdBDjqkX1CYiIU29Sel-q9wBjTfoXN4jUw/s3588/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUGlwEaZkSl8sjFSqr1lvirD7HkVou2EKs3xTunKGXr7xeYF7OLg2O4ryHz9ayRXRCfL4Ztum_pRk8vuj2OahvoZmOZlEAmdvi_ubDZa8R4mh2bmDtz4Kd4x9p0WDFvADJdddfRKlhBjhto0INn9qvdBDjqkX1CYiIU29Sel-q9wBjTfoXN4jUw/w545-h400/4.jpg" width="545" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>It's been a stellar year for them. It could be that I planted a good batch of bulbs at the right depth, but honestly, I think it's just the luck of the weather. Crocuses come out early. They'll survive the cold, but their blooms are fragile. We've had no snow, no big storms and rainfalls to topple these guys. Best crocus year ever!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tLyF8qQb2p8-u7feLmiu3zsvHq7Ox5D982ll9ag1mrTOYq5Llyb_CDwdvvQ1gcPbgOj3QKERCAA5DIphljoTJ401w9pDfnkKxcttQNspRqzNsuLyXZoUj4_pIay1_Bjs69Htj2p7nwM0v1dJY7LZ_Os_o5e0zbM-FwUTE0_hlYsLKuc82B5bDg/s3661/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="694" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tLyF8qQb2p8-u7feLmiu3zsvHq7Ox5D982ll9ag1mrTOYq5Llyb_CDwdvvQ1gcPbgOj3QKERCAA5DIphljoTJ401w9pDfnkKxcttQNspRqzNsuLyXZoUj4_pIay1_Bjs69Htj2p7nwM0v1dJY7LZ_Os_o5e0zbM-FwUTE0_hlYsLKuc82B5bDg/w557-h694/5.jpg" width="557" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I have more appointments, more errands for this morning. Indeed, I decide that I can lump everything into one neat stack and do it even before breakfast. Including the week's grocery shopping! The reward? I have fresh (grocery store) flowers for the table for our morning meal.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27q-yLcxGEf_YVXcAPpnGplCVjyJNJaQ2j7m_7Ng_GuetgsY3bMDdQR3scMgWmWskddW7q9qRC4ZANpkjFLXJZu5oFafdkvAV3DO4AR__nfdFij54KJlgqkKfqSQbGY5HJSEKXRNCpR3ZeSOgiD_5HqdygbXM0kDqrLbeGpuDnRqz9Z97EWZemg/s2875/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="681" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27q-yLcxGEf_YVXcAPpnGplCVjyJNJaQ2j7m_7Ng_GuetgsY3bMDdQR3scMgWmWskddW7q9qRC4ZANpkjFLXJZu5oFafdkvAV3DO4AR__nfdFij54KJlgqkKfqSQbGY5HJSEKXRNCpR3ZeSOgiD_5HqdygbXM0kDqrLbeGpuDnRqz9Z97EWZemg/w619-h681/2.jpg" width="619" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And now for out light walk in the local park.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mL2vOfSflNlUMojjn-QkkCep3fLB7yDVO6hcASYyqaS9jqN5n1hIuBUyRjUeGORSG97EbdRjEQbZZBSXgi3vkkSl2h47crjmyKiqy72Z4FuzF4F-BXk1pzQsdqTNJ0ZCRXWp-8CARezpjgUHTdjQHvqxAcFQNQDfgB566pA_1qxMHy2EgQuvCw/s4007/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="548" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mL2vOfSflNlUMojjn-QkkCep3fLB7yDVO6hcASYyqaS9jqN5n1hIuBUyRjUeGORSG97EbdRjEQbZZBSXgi3vkkSl2h47crjmyKiqy72Z4FuzF4F-BXk1pzQsdqTNJ0ZCRXWp-8CARezpjgUHTdjQHvqxAcFQNQDfgB566pA_1qxMHy2EgQuvCw/w763-h548/6.jpg" width="763" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>We choose the longer trail through the woods, which promises a ton of birdsong! Robins, song sparrows, chickadees. Heavenly!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Ud8LHccqO4tNLTo_0NxUAge513UmgzHTerePDfTtwYhGS7XG8nG-Lgcc2yv3vG4LHE_WiyQD7OI-YOYCpQcs7XtsetbyPxkOADH65EJHn8L0qJx69B5Werv2-lhaJO7Eqa7P4e0ueRtLOgD2IOPaesBUPUP4kX5dO8g4MIk9iYIp54hQ3oB9zg/s3902/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="724" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Ud8LHccqO4tNLTo_0NxUAge513UmgzHTerePDfTtwYhGS7XG8nG-Lgcc2yv3vG4LHE_WiyQD7OI-YOYCpQcs7XtsetbyPxkOADH65EJHn8L0qJx69B5Werv2-lhaJO7Eqa7P4e0ueRtLOgD2IOPaesBUPUP4kX5dO8g4MIk9iYIp54hQ3oB9zg/w545-h724/7.jpg" width="545" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And that's how you quickly move from morning til school pick up time.</p><p> </p><p>The kids never play outside during the school year. (They do at home, with neighborhood friends, but not at the farmette.) Still, on great weather days, there's that temptation to do at least a quick run in a field...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnjENWWtR64hnYUIFdFyPLVAaa8RxC2CB9zuXtJfDF0m1630ZGBQLI2lfMOOMe_OzOJGbAWDvP8vCTAuDeeYSRrve_FtiEMeFm-fwDIdvSen8DmnLtP4rJ67Hkz__udcij6M5p5MBSXgC6aRd3hvJtX-mrzeXy7AwZOcA0hzPLgrNX6eX17jsv5w/s2793/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="705" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnjENWWtR64hnYUIFdFyPLVAaa8RxC2CB9zuXtJfDF0m1630ZGBQLI2lfMOOMe_OzOJGbAWDvP8vCTAuDeeYSRrve_FtiEMeFm-fwDIdvSen8DmnLtP4rJ67Hkz__udcij6M5p5MBSXgC6aRd3hvJtX-mrzeXy7AwZOcA0hzPLgrNX6eX17jsv5w/w657-h705/9.jpg" width="657" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJI4HXFxQQD3Z1IcTub-odAlWTGrIYV3pGBkb60_YC-mAvWPKrItOBcorsDZCwxr0LsdbAcS-eqJQ7UBXzNHLzv-XbV3idCVuF7GzCFDIQpodazoJLIeyegCuwrq8xcCFEEcMN5vtbY8ECO6U1cPl0JGUK_QD1NMsE96Yg-mjseMaVM4Zm9q64w/s3255/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="568" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJI4HXFxQQD3Z1IcTub-odAlWTGrIYV3pGBkb60_YC-mAvWPKrItOBcorsDZCwxr0LsdbAcS-eqJQ7UBXzNHLzv-XbV3idCVuF7GzCFDIQpodazoJLIeyegCuwrq8xcCFEEcMN5vtbY8ECO6U1cPl0JGUK_QD1NMsE96Yg-mjseMaVM4Zm9q64w/w513-h568/10.jpg" width="513" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Before hurrying inside. </p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKhHnJuaizkBDwiH6of-YUhVuBF0HEsemC-rXoD_QFoYJnHrZCOWYfw4YDGTg74gfZuvfMdtWTjDmg4CrspcOruOoCzwPKmNNdpcFJsdHAfHq5UEWkp64SpFaJbRXT5CTHPXtgok4Cy2ZpHN8DF4RdtsLIQwDjwbv2OI64ZpPXViGZBolSlwg7Q/s3014/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="744" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKhHnJuaizkBDwiH6of-YUhVuBF0HEsemC-rXoD_QFoYJnHrZCOWYfw4YDGTg74gfZuvfMdtWTjDmg4CrspcOruOoCzwPKmNNdpcFJsdHAfHq5UEWkp64SpFaJbRXT5CTHPXtgok4Cy2ZpHN8DF4RdtsLIQwDjwbv2OI64ZpPXViGZBolSlwg7Q/w621-h744/11.jpg" width="621" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>For the food. And the book. (We're currently reading Greenglass House -- a mystery, a spooky story, with bits of the unreal sprinkled throughout. Even Sparrow, who cannot possibly understand the plot's twists and turns, kept repeating -- <i>this is such a good book</i>!)</p><p> </p><p>(All the cats stay outside when the kids come. Too much energy in the house!)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguiqk_TxjGSg84NCUv1m-vBD4YRa72ci8i_Bh7tzy7BBUCjpbvKIDYLYbZlrQ6Of_FbJLYXhbo-QMSxZknQwF3XA9ScoAvQ-4U9aJCktV-dTOabg0b7c27Kmyj35SrBA5xcoNPmeSGR5PKDugF4hReJAOkyyLPe6o6DUs0KrB87ivTW9L3g68A5w/s1527/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguiqk_TxjGSg84NCUv1m-vBD4YRa72ci8i_Bh7tzy7BBUCjpbvKIDYLYbZlrQ6Of_FbJLYXhbo-QMSxZknQwF3XA9ScoAvQ-4U9aJCktV-dTOabg0b7c27Kmyj35SrBA5xcoNPmeSGR5PKDugF4hReJAOkyyLPe6o6DUs0KrB87ivTW9L3g68A5w/w578-h640/8.jpg" width="578" /></a><br /> <br /></p><p> </p><p>Evening. A light rain. More to come. </p><p>Soup's on! Feet up. Exhale...</p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-26463521728810520952024-03-12T20:16:00.001-05:002024-03-12T20:16:55.970-05:00Tuesday<p>Still warm, still spring-like, still beautiful out there. Uff! The pressure to seize the day is on!</p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VEX-EVMiw11_aMcB2kD5vt0B9Uhpbxx1VqQ5U8lU1XXxGy_J8jCCt-slRPb5_fvu9K6aXif5_UPqW_f7Sh_SO_ObNaS5FWGAhHmjDOeJfG954ZlL-2zMcKWNSuK05K4Zeu5TD1ERutf7B9-ULDSXwTBImM6kvF992lfi0sA4RrN_Sx3a_pd8Ig/s3420/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VEX-EVMiw11_aMcB2kD5vt0B9Uhpbxx1VqQ5U8lU1XXxGy_J8jCCt-slRPb5_fvu9K6aXif5_UPqW_f7Sh_SO_ObNaS5FWGAhHmjDOeJfG954ZlL-2zMcKWNSuK05K4Zeu5TD1ERutf7B9-ULDSXwTBImM6kvF992lfi0sA4RrN_Sx3a_pd8Ig/w550-h640/4.jpg" width="550" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>But of course, life throws its own agenda. Chickens, cats, appointments, errands. A trip to the bakery. A morning of all the above.</p><p>And yet, how special it is to end up at the tail end of it all, at the breakfast table, with croissants and cinnamon rolls to boot, enjoying the calm of a stunning spring-like day.</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOBZUuawa-pdWXrnR5nDdsgo58TSJLi1V801zaAV1H6PD-JCNn7khvuJM4NwxXFJm0JH1ed_ouTtr9h0aP1Zx9vP5ld-A0v19VoR9yr1zOIAGUV-WZazaoMDClO8GabSfJXCmWvM4lsIl2llziuqBUE3B3DG9PUZ4QE50j8Xh1_dpPK6yt7hsrA/s3801/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="505" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOBZUuawa-pdWXrnR5nDdsgo58TSJLi1V801zaAV1H6PD-JCNn7khvuJM4NwxXFJm0JH1ed_ouTtr9h0aP1Zx9vP5ld-A0v19VoR9yr1zOIAGUV-WZazaoMDClO8GabSfJXCmWvM4lsIl2llziuqBUE3B3DG9PUZ4QE50j8Xh1_dpPK6yt7hsrA/w690-h505/1.jpg" width="690" /></a><br /> <br /></p><p> </p><p>We do go out for a walk in our local park. Nothing unusual, nothing too long. The sun is hazy, but the breezes (and there are breezes) are soothing and absolutely delightful, especially since we are not pedaling against their force! Walking into a stiff wind merely pushes the hair out of your face.<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUX-K7YAbKy_hoAMILENw2TZdDj4uRxdta7lIWRkRkamr3wMryZmbsXvls_HEJlBiYyUpk8XcFA2fqfvK9V-l8COqtJWzY4GMVe6lnsmYEpFbRleKLyhXjgwLhDLNmBPn8M9Mwzln069L1st6eqtl3ELcTScetAEVymXyDgZQnSwdYHmYEO5m3A/s4230/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUX-K7YAbKy_hoAMILENw2TZdDj4uRxdta7lIWRkRkamr3wMryZmbsXvls_HEJlBiYyUpk8XcFA2fqfvK9V-l8COqtJWzY4GMVe6lnsmYEpFbRleKLyhXjgwLhDLNmBPn8M9Mwzln069L1st6eqtl3ELcTScetAEVymXyDgZQnSwdYHmYEO5m3A/w751-h524/3.jpg" width="751" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>More errands, more quick runs, stops, drop offs. Tons of email messages. More appointments to make. Phew! [Here's a tip for you: never, ever schedule a routine CK total blood screening after you've just spent the day biking to and from Paoli. Why? You may walk away convinced that you have a muscle wasting autoimmune disease. At the very least, you'll be told -- <i>let's do some more tests</i>. Far easier to just sit on your butt on the day before. You'll thank me for it!]<br /></p><p>And now finally the kids.</p><p>On this most splendid day, their moods match the moment.</p><p>(I have never said no to a grandchild who wants to pick "just one" flower...)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3XUhSFZL9gho5SK-X48SaIum4TNK9-DLulmztVLFLBimdTs-__wbYIEPfltiAg2IHMGxI-oXuJZNN8GNa-5mMxaMyBlcre7pkVXrQlzRUwPwiJ0yS0zwLhwSZMpYDS4GCJPLxR1JlpT3zuaFjZMZx2dYV7ssKuDUktgnsCsmjwp3w6SPmsguDTg/s2944/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="687" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3XUhSFZL9gho5SK-X48SaIum4TNK9-DLulmztVLFLBimdTs-__wbYIEPfltiAg2IHMGxI-oXuJZNN8GNa-5mMxaMyBlcre7pkVXrQlzRUwPwiJ0yS0zwLhwSZMpYDS4GCJPLxR1JlpT3zuaFjZMZx2dYV7ssKuDUktgnsCsmjwp3w6SPmsguDTg/w681-h687/5.jpg" width="681" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(never...)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixZw3zcUngGlLeSgBdj2q70KaGk_LnQR2Vh5lWxO6GIYYzNBxQeYqb6GsXdpwUwCEXkqqxgL6ebSaYkKgEQHqFcsL0juS9okyeeMxhMk9DdMl50dZ8Z0j1L_N47WimwZX2V7aBuGRE_os13TBKR6e-36WEdHPdQyxmw85rVck4uepgelx7eQnMow/s3733/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="716" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixZw3zcUngGlLeSgBdj2q70KaGk_LnQR2Vh5lWxO6GIYYzNBxQeYqb6GsXdpwUwCEXkqqxgL6ebSaYkKgEQHqFcsL0juS9okyeeMxhMk9DdMl50dZ8Z0j1L_N47WimwZX2V7aBuGRE_os13TBKR6e-36WEdHPdQyxmw85rVck4uepgelx7eQnMow/w501-h716/6.jpg" width="501" /></a><p><br /></p><p>Both kids (and too, their elementary school cousin in Chicago) are having stellar runs this school year. Will it always be thus? One can hope. But it's greatly wonderful to hear from teachers that these kids are okay! And kind. Good people, learning to exist in this complicated world of ours.</p><p>Dinner? Eggs! For sure eggs. The hens are starting to produce very very large eggs. Delicious and deliciously abundant. Throw in some CSA spinach, some mushrooms, maybe a bit of garlic, cheese, tomatoes, and you've got yourself a farmhouse supper. With a side salad. And with love...<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-77707869875163837642024-03-11T21:02:00.000-05:002024-03-11T21:02:06.922-05:00Monday<p>So, you think you've got troubles? How would you like to be a living being with radiant feathers, virtually announcing to all who want to eat you that you are there, available for consumption? Or, how would you like to be a black and white cat (aka Pancake), who has to fight to get close to a food force (us)? So that you show up for your meal not all neat and pretty, but with gashes to your face and blood dripping into the dish? </p><p>We live in the country and we see plenty of this -- the fighting spirit that keeps animals alive, mostly, but not always. A cold day for you means you have to reach for an extra scarf as you walk to the bus stop or your car. A cold day for Pancake means that there's little escape from it. You just have to be cold. </p><p>Spring is the season of birth, which means that predators are especially aggressive as they strive to feed their new families. I get it. It's the way life continues on this planet. Every nature film we watch is filled with the challenge and horror of survival (or not). Still, as the hawks once again circle overhead, and our new young chickens display their innocence as they strut into the open field (so visible!), I have to say, it can be a very scary time for so many animals! </p><p>At the same time, spring is most assuredly a time of joy. In my walk to the barn, I hear the song of house sparrows, American robins, blue jays, European starlings, and northern cardinals. Red-winged blackbird, black-capped chickadee. All that, on one morning walk!</p><p>(out they go, the three youngest -- always on the run!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwMnXf2Wf0fKZwU7_jrEwxFdZ6YcQAutDNjEvoHrgt0wThLHZBrrMVAz6CcvQN0MxZgj2mMWNYVX2Rnf9wSqKLnU-hVywO-8YwSVg7LuIeVwoWBxrSw-JkXahJ1IMwDPhotyXIL1OF_JbN2FXlrRMvsKkvjVPuU3q5KlINgIvGvCLCpzVwHTKdw/s3591/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwMnXf2Wf0fKZwU7_jrEwxFdZ6YcQAutDNjEvoHrgt0wThLHZBrrMVAz6CcvQN0MxZgj2mMWNYVX2Rnf9wSqKLnU-hVywO-8YwSVg7LuIeVwoWBxrSw-JkXahJ1IMwDPhotyXIL1OF_JbN2FXlrRMvsKkvjVPuU3q5KlINgIvGvCLCpzVwHTKdw/w640-h492/1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(ever expanding patches of flowering crocuses, as well as the beginning of Lenten Rose blooms)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPzNbmFPBCYj3Uz9eW_BnEvvgnxnUt3Oo_nOiN4yBwzuCXirxtJdMpiNC1bqChJeqFJpCbrjVXmvp9LL90Fz-65QvGF1FtFl3phjWTOuAyuZkZO6M2NTYs9UTR4aPPmUxRmCRmN3ue6seI_YZzNe3sHXdTUI5GbkvCky-YPynTLhcrtfUlI0fJA/s3403/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPzNbmFPBCYj3Uz9eW_BnEvvgnxnUt3Oo_nOiN4yBwzuCXirxtJdMpiNC1bqChJeqFJpCbrjVXmvp9LL90Fz-65QvGF1FtFl3phjWTOuAyuZkZO6M2NTYs9UTR4aPPmUxRmCRmN3ue6seI_YZzNe3sHXdTUI5GbkvCky-YPynTLhcrtfUlI0fJA/w509-h366/4.jpg" width="509" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRUN28kyTVtqY7fXcx6eOaq1AH6HPQCCM7tKI4KDdrdsEVrK3SGcXTfKEhswk2HNKL3saQUacCc2zgeNBo3-LiChLhtfwm5AAljGZY1Mb8fK12bGyvfgBc-V-rr65jUPQ_bOZRAMfYriqxOSVFtnyuJmTej-mEo3naGeKE6dFCezP8omTWyA9_A/s2670/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRUN28kyTVtqY7fXcx6eOaq1AH6HPQCCM7tKI4KDdrdsEVrK3SGcXTfKEhswk2HNKL3saQUacCc2zgeNBo3-LiChLhtfwm5AAljGZY1Mb8fK12bGyvfgBc-V-rr65jUPQ_bOZRAMfYriqxOSVFtnyuJmTej-mEo3naGeKE6dFCezP8omTWyA9_A/w405-h444/2.jpg" width="405" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Breakfast is late. Maybe it's the time gallop, maybe it's a Zoom call with my Polish pal, maybe it's that Ed is feeling sleepy this morning. No matter. Eventually, we eat.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5dkWR6M8uyYuIvvsnqlj-Dj2sgYfNOrEiYTUUQVzZGThRzg3xS0WbDUblYB5SRdTbPULF7a8jzV6Y9xPLV231Xb__kVvF7jIjKBHj0NvMTWlJ5UhC-U5JSLiPR6ZUohs8JLW3qp0q_QOQBKbk6HLXcHRZ8ivzaW3luwpB0b0Ry0bW-syEjKnO5Q/s3682/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5dkWR6M8uyYuIvvsnqlj-Dj2sgYfNOrEiYTUUQVzZGThRzg3xS0WbDUblYB5SRdTbPULF7a8jzV6Y9xPLV231Xb__kVvF7jIjKBHj0NvMTWlJ5UhC-U5JSLiPR6ZUohs8JLW3qp0q_QOQBKbk6HLXcHRZ8ivzaW3luwpB0b0Ry0bW-syEjKnO5Q/w640-h512/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Today turns out to be a Zero day. Meaning -- no grandchild duty. Their school is closed, their parents have taken charge. Add to that the most beautiful weather day yet -- mostly sunny, with a high of 63F (17C). I propose we seize the day and do a bike ride. A longer one, to Paoli. Google tells me that's an hour and five minutes on the bike trails. We're pretty good to keeping close to Google estimates. </p><p>However...</p><p>The wind. Oh, the wind!</p><p>The ride is lovely, but even on my electric bike, it is brutally tough -- into the wind! We go over the estimate by a full ten minutes, panting!</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAjysILU1lHBYU8j1qh958_0fZgE5vkENJiLUYOrqP3FIBE-_I6_npgT5ZoI36P7oxsyBElz9152eVME05q5jTYhpNeJtp1-U6Yi01QxY3D82cmT1vb718NlYAqZC73xa_MsgZqZLPU3atw2vSEgwPAXFaum8F0uyD3qozyO0qIRsROBYf9Hmlw/s2160/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="663" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAjysILU1lHBYU8j1qh958_0fZgE5vkENJiLUYOrqP3FIBE-_I6_npgT5ZoI36P7oxsyBElz9152eVME05q5jTYhpNeJtp1-U6Yi01QxY3D82cmT1vb718NlYAqZC73xa_MsgZqZLPU3atw2vSEgwPAXFaum8F0uyD3qozyO0qIRsROBYf9Hmlw/w611-h663/5.jpg" width="611" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>(Once there, we pause at Seven Acres Creamery for a pick-me-up.)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmA5ql6oF5dwltZ5KEXsXi1l6x8ZR6PaSRgKMxvqsvGVmXkpUE0mVtt9WrrZ_y0lceSFE0fJg2eC98dqeZr6PSpZeI8Kv2hnAtJua8s-8BkRCFO8DC-Yz5J3h0UEX9RB93xj6JU1My-SKIumThTlFT0GQzwwK-iGSCLHf27F8F_43m4t_R-rAwTw/s3817/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmA5ql6oF5dwltZ5KEXsXi1l6x8ZR6PaSRgKMxvqsvGVmXkpUE0mVtt9WrrZ_y0lceSFE0fJg2eC98dqeZr6PSpZeI8Kv2hnAtJua8s-8BkRCFO8DC-Yz5J3h0UEX9RB93xj6JU1My-SKIumThTlFT0GQzwwK-iGSCLHf27F8F_43m4t_R-rAwTw/w499-h385/6.jpg" width="499" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>On the upside, the ride back has the wind on our backs. We cut the estimate by three minutes! Even with the pauses to, say, take a photo or two.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeyVyWME14QduQB80FOb_tmKLfMPdn2-zt5Pyh5E8Mvrj24JWXRMghSrNBN72n4Toe7e0lMJDqeopntnxSc4KmoZ29rzwNhb0TEwbMmRe-qpK0arG48Beex9a8TNERTrFA3pSws70PyJfa3eHtYWBG8eE3Ntu6_GcBTB5NAuhJO1SzO4W-NMkrA/s4033/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="798" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeyVyWME14QduQB80FOb_tmKLfMPdn2-zt5Pyh5E8Mvrj24JWXRMghSrNBN72n4Toe7e0lMJDqeopntnxSc4KmoZ29rzwNhb0TEwbMmRe-qpK0arG48Beex9a8TNERTrFA3pSws70PyJfa3eHtYWBG8eE3Ntu6_GcBTB5NAuhJO1SzO4W-NMkrA/w529-h798/7.jpg" width="529" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>The leap into longer days does mess with your view of the world. You suddenly feel that much closer to all that's starting to grow outside. Winter weather may come screaming back at you (last year, we had a heavy snowfall in April), but still, it's a passing event. Underneath it all, there is new life. There is stuff that thrills you. A plateful, no, a world full of great loveliness to discover, in due time. </p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-6038874528330609442024-03-10T20:32:00.001-05:002024-03-10T20:45:15.800-05:00daylight, saved<p>And just like that, Ed and I lost our window of opportunity to eat out in the evening. The clocks moved forward and therefore, so did the chicken lock up time -- now standing at 6:50 p.m. A bit earlier on dark days, a bit later on cloudless days. Maybe you think heading out to dinner afterwards, meaning after 7 is great. For us -- that's winding down time. By 7:15 I'm ready for my evening piece of chocolate, not for a server to hand me the menu and ask if I'd like a predinner drink. </p><p>In thinking about this, I considered the possibility that we were getting to be caricatures of a senior duo. You remember the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGGi4SpPtqc">Seinfeld episode, where the parents are itching to go out to eat at 4:30</a>? True, Ed and I typically eat between 6:45 and 7, but that means dinner is <i>ready</i> by 6:45 and 7. Were we to go out, then, to eat in our normal dinner window, 6 p.m. would be our target sit down time, which means we'd be heading out at 5:45. That seems awfully close to 4:30! Gulp!</p><p>Other changes brought about by the clock adjustment? Well, there's no reason for me to be up with the chickens now at 7:15, when to them it hardly matters what the clock says. I open the coop door and feed them when it's bright as can be outside, so that the predator danger is minimal. So today, that's closer to 8:30. It really doesn't matter when the magic moment of freedom comes for them, so long as it's not too early.</p><p>(teenagers, on the run!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidfqnMqMmbAIMfOna9rhfy2cQ5DmeednMGRmRFJR0UdRfIPUlloQYtmjn4B5cdEKydS3y_RUnfWduNe8KyueuDrInqlo4S7gvQsfZHmsP_XpqEzMj5r563-loTVBQj_fXLkdC2USidK17XiR5naEngAHU1ZLtPrSI70fbe0tJDjyLFA0QZR-UV1w/s4149/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidfqnMqMmbAIMfOna9rhfy2cQ5DmeednMGRmRFJR0UdRfIPUlloQYtmjn4B5cdEKydS3y_RUnfWduNe8KyueuDrInqlo4S7gvQsfZHmsP_XpqEzMj5r563-loTVBQj_fXLkdC2USidK17XiR5naEngAHU1ZLtPrSI70fbe0tJDjyLFA0QZR-UV1w/w640-h454/1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I notice that the bowls of water scattered in strategic places across farmette paths are frozen or empty. We do have warming dishes plugged in both in the garage and in the coop, but when the hens are out and about, they dont always remember where those are, so we supplement with these additional watering holes. These then become water sources for the hens, but also for cats, birds, raccoons -- you name it. And yes, we cornered another raccoon overnight. Our hens are in high demand! <br /></p><p>(new chickens and fallen willow branches)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gz8lzEqJzm4_r4yo4J0T9-BF0LI6rYzOuSShx6SBedTKr5MSAZijHGxG6WR6aManlXyBcPqQSIMaLPXogoZdfK6GfhpCo-33swf99zPsSGDrhM9hmpY3UeHY5FDwMAOe-CBJouJ5Y-OId2CsYkOebbg6ll4M0l4MjpShIjWG0l29a3mDulAfNQ/s3456/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="723" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gz8lzEqJzm4_r4yo4J0T9-BF0LI6rYzOuSShx6SBedTKr5MSAZijHGxG6WR6aManlXyBcPqQSIMaLPXogoZdfK6GfhpCo-33swf99zPsSGDrhM9hmpY3UeHY5FDwMAOe-CBJouJ5Y-OId2CsYkOebbg6ll4M0l4MjpShIjWG0l29a3mDulAfNQ/w578-h723/2.jpg" width="578" /></a><br /> <br /></p><p> </p><p>Breakfast, with just Ed. The cats are out enjoying the lovely sunshine.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQABGFL_X4EIr6vBOv3AuahUR01vq9OK9UZhsX5Ae-w9cMez31ZkQuzhGlznrqKQ0Hh_gdy_H7BhNffFyUtfd9RB2lu98JpFt8Ie7y9CWcF9mpAanwgLSlgnHFx1OHTMVMQJ48UqlfdyBYNYecdOZCRCXhvd0kqOCeyDHRuCf44TbZlPZh8IgBQ/s3955/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQABGFL_X4EIr6vBOv3AuahUR01vq9OK9UZhsX5Ae-w9cMez31ZkQuzhGlznrqKQ0Hh_gdy_H7BhNffFyUtfd9RB2lu98JpFt8Ie7y9CWcF9mpAanwgLSlgnHFx1OHTMVMQJ48UqlfdyBYNYecdOZCRCXhvd0kqOCeyDHRuCf44TbZlPZh8IgBQ/w640-h424/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And we are too! Eventually. When the crocuses open up for the day -- that's the time you want to head out. Before that? Too cold.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcNMYdhp6i4pbjL0mhyCiwEoegZZhoBeA2H0dgAj5q84meEiO40wruQC6xdLNpMWT7XI49Q8XsTgaqfG8Z7jmJEVpBULEw6kYMUgxzEIscTBK1eZwp-u0Te2jZmHnSFwn8xWt6AaZIqR9dV4pEMkFP0SSZEssA7LK7kuWYPA2bY7x3KE0_lQiMXA/s4278/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcNMYdhp6i4pbjL0mhyCiwEoegZZhoBeA2H0dgAj5q84meEiO40wruQC6xdLNpMWT7XI49Q8XsTgaqfG8Z7jmJEVpBULEw6kYMUgxzEIscTBK1eZwp-u0Te2jZmHnSFwn8xWt6AaZIqR9dV4pEMkFP0SSZEssA7LK7kuWYPA2bY7x3KE0_lQiMXA/w640-h440/4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Okay, off we go. To the local park. We're not ambitious.</p><p>Prairie flowers and forest greens are still dormant, but you can almost sense their new buds forming. It's a wonderful time to be a gardener: you notice every detail of the plant world. The story of the growing season is about to unfold before our eyes!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSByVC6V-XP0FjJoRNlAXP13XAjTmq8YcXJStdvyuPpedimchl3b6Q1nfVlPsMJny43lDBQfrQPDP_dYY8m-Gqt2Vly9LNpf3WOewDqQwSbknJugQXLaLxjU8wOGtPrg-IdIMrvJHJue0W8lx7gFQ7RMoPA7EvP2APwlVN4U7hOQOqBlkk_knFg/s3783/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="700" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSByVC6V-XP0FjJoRNlAXP13XAjTmq8YcXJStdvyuPpedimchl3b6Q1nfVlPsMJny43lDBQfrQPDP_dYY8m-Gqt2Vly9LNpf3WOewDqQwSbknJugQXLaLxjU8wOGtPrg-IdIMrvJHJue0W8lx7gFQ7RMoPA7EvP2APwlVN4U7hOQOqBlkk_knFg/w545-h700/6.jpg" width="545" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(nearby...)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01WOP_Vpx4KhdF2p7aRCnxMu82uBdyYtylY2bTtiOfixstM0K3OrjziR8m71qsdsSdtbBCuhMIF9UxntICGNEGn3kMpuGdHmRmh4EpO5aLArnYSxiSTBTtaDQsa98COkHOiurjRtHJTCnrRVuzokzb3mdMaKNN4ZFaVDhzR2SaYXYp5mqd8GS1g/s1168/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="533" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01WOP_Vpx4KhdF2p7aRCnxMu82uBdyYtylY2bTtiOfixstM0K3OrjziR8m71qsdsSdtbBCuhMIF9UxntICGNEGn3kMpuGdHmRmh4EpO5aLArnYSxiSTBTtaDQsa98COkHOiurjRtHJTCnrRVuzokzb3mdMaKNN4ZFaVDhzR2SaYXYp5mqd8GS1g/w536-h533/5.jpg" width="536" /></a><p><br /></p><p>Back at home, it's time to get dinner ready for the young family.</p><p><br /></p><p>(here comes the tail end!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv24LAHuc7dhByqdzIVwsXZG8GHPBX8-ts_15O5gs2Ca1tz6-FSzwoN7J1pn2aGhb7ed4xYoH5fzGqK0bxW1AtKsVwT_LFJIgtbM7paV4XjIihqYBr2Z48o7YIuW0-11PwEvEaErzQzlcpMcOeTLIK6o4XUVduSD4zYepNmIkZJyfiVsjQWXkOCQ/s2648/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv24LAHuc7dhByqdzIVwsXZG8GHPBX8-ts_15O5gs2Ca1tz6-FSzwoN7J1pn2aGhb7ed4xYoH5fzGqK0bxW1AtKsVwT_LFJIgtbM7paV4XjIihqYBr2Z48o7YIuW0-11PwEvEaErzQzlcpMcOeTLIK6o4XUVduSD4zYepNmIkZJyfiVsjQWXkOCQ/w582-h640/7.jpg" width="582" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(dinner)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrzSR4oGBaSsLyQ3SXY7_BbWL5a4LLhekHBlSHp9hxK64pUCMhTyp6wveMLTPhPzT-71WJa3N5d-anioe1YUk521CtNIPpn78UHbCuK4AtFjT1dpUSj9veNQ38DZCAF8_j3ATeaNvb08c8jPJhKGFWh8RkW5-6cOy4McwV_lp-MhcYB04hvWEcA/s4384/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="421" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrzSR4oGBaSsLyQ3SXY7_BbWL5a4LLhekHBlSHp9hxK64pUCMhTyp6wveMLTPhPzT-71WJa3N5d-anioe1YUk521CtNIPpn78UHbCuK4AtFjT1dpUSj9veNQ38DZCAF8_j3ATeaNvb08c8jPJhKGFWh8RkW5-6cOy4McwV_lp-MhcYB04hvWEcA/w712-h421/8.jpg" width="712" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(and yes, we're Oscar fans! we sneaked in a quick viewing session! well, some of us!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVr1f4gWR41IRSh_qSAzsg-j2E6HptzltreO6HRqS5zPxyn_OTGLtI3UsDDeyIbwZAlzKbBmDLmly3cBJLlUBMZ4CYtK12VGdCu2iXc054bi8yNh9W2fnB7Sq8Cz2e-K0jabOulaEF7dbICOWCBq5Ws6t4v9UfdS8PCr0dzZ3hrrXMG_E61OYjg/s3562/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVr1f4gWR41IRSh_qSAzsg-j2E6HptzltreO6HRqS5zPxyn_OTGLtI3UsDDeyIbwZAlzKbBmDLmly3cBJLlUBMZ4CYtK12VGdCu2iXc054bi8yNh9W2fnB7Sq8Cz2e-K0jabOulaEF7dbICOWCBq5Ws6t4v9UfdS8PCr0dzZ3hrrXMG_E61OYjg/w640-h468/9.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>The day does feel shorter. That one hour did a fictional disappearance, of course. March 10th did not have 60 minutes sucked out of it. And yet, despite the sunlight streaming in at dinner time, despite the pleasure of having that longer spell of daylight, it feels like I lost some minutes in the course of the day.The mind works in weird ways.</p><p>Now, back to the Oscars. Mostly alone. The young family has long gone and Ed refuses to watch the endless thank-yous from those who won for films he never saw. Me, I watch as much as I can on long flights, but it hardly matters. Tuning in to the Oscars is a habit. Sort of like ending the day with a chocolate.</p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-4369237769038007332024-03-09T20:48:00.002-06:002024-03-09T20:48:42.760-06:00the benefits of having taught...<p>It seems that my years of teaching have come swinging right back at me these past days. There was that crazy set of mini classes I gave on International Day. Yeah, all those eager faces looking in my direction, waiting for me to say something that would draw them into the platform of learning. Then there was today. Call it a day of unexpected encounters.</p><p>It's Saturday. I had to laugh when my friend, who is spending time with her grandkids these winter months referred to days when she is without them as her zero days. Zero commitment. Time to herself. I'm adopting this into my jargon here -- Saturday is my Zero day! </p><p>It starts the same as every other day -- I walk over to the coop to check on the hens, to feed them, to take stock. Things are settling down over in the barn area. True, the two old girls with the blue bands still venture out on their own, but the four new ones, and especially the eldest of the four, are testing the waters as well. A little bit at a time.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40wP2KbssywJbt1U7Sn7bib8Uzt53JmSc1yDCXnr1rNj8dD_QomVxBB3ZZSU6tK6NyAsmhogPbm4YkPWvobJMgmaZR37yAxSda1_hNA7tEQBwAB91Ej1RKUSfuhCSd0M4pDfSJPRFRCw9Hp2sLHv6boOjaySAqZQACGYLgxiVFPOXeFHTMSeOLQ/s3574/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="703" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg40wP2KbssywJbt1U7Sn7bib8Uzt53JmSc1yDCXnr1rNj8dD_QomVxBB3ZZSU6tK6NyAsmhogPbm4YkPWvobJMgmaZR37yAxSda1_hNA7tEQBwAB91Ej1RKUSfuhCSd0M4pDfSJPRFRCw9Hp2sLHv6boOjaySAqZQACGYLgxiVFPOXeFHTMSeOLQ/w549-h703/1.jpg" width="549" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>So, all good there.</p><p>Breakfast? Yes, I love Ed, I even like the cats that come down to be with us during our morning meal, but honestly, right now it's the blooms on the table that give me the biggest grin. So... of the season!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAXGrZTigCzbBJcrBzxzCR7Gng2hwAksD43hhmGNQfWVi-wMhiSLSnY-6WASNLYjTNqqO0FfEoLDWf-J2TuUmDqfwDFZiLc-eKxykHK6rZkA5Khyphenhyphenjsdoyjq95p5zZ1B_OZ8S_B2jkzhzwbnsV1iBgHRIKF5EhkAbpUD4FtbcB5uck-c6frWW-Zw/s3512/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAXGrZTigCzbBJcrBzxzCR7Gng2hwAksD43hhmGNQfWVi-wMhiSLSnY-6WASNLYjTNqqO0FfEoLDWf-J2TuUmDqfwDFZiLc-eKxykHK6rZkA5Khyphenhyphenjsdoyjq95p5zZ1B_OZ8S_B2jkzhzwbnsV1iBgHRIKF5EhkAbpUD4FtbcB5uck-c6frWW-Zw/w640-h482/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Then comes a Zoom call and a strategic planning session (well, the inception of a strategic planning session) of a retreat with my law school buds. So, the law school emerges just a little, early in the day.</p><p> </p><p>(Outside, the cardinal in the budding lilac is not only beautiful to watch, but enormously awesome to listen to... Yes, I'm still into birds!)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_rs-GztNSVQQMBlHrN1i2pA2oj-W1Gz9t4nGUkzD9VZ9pGCkTdl4qFwbq9Ka3xX6hCd7mfuoTAR2IzSbo_oush2BFClhq-9DUrJUP6Ih_R_-hmgSuYHV-Hr0K0JwJ4fjM3uuXMSd2sCr0cmAHaZfrnwOAdUa0RiLFWlhjY-Xje6E1SEiPqG3tw/s1771/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_rs-GztNSVQQMBlHrN1i2pA2oj-W1Gz9t4nGUkzD9VZ9pGCkTdl4qFwbq9Ka3xX6hCd7mfuoTAR2IzSbo_oush2BFClhq-9DUrJUP6Ih_R_-hmgSuYHV-Hr0K0JwJ4fjM3uuXMSd2sCr0cmAHaZfrnwOAdUa0RiLFWlhjY-Xje6E1SEiPqG3tw/w530-h640/2.jpg" width="530" /></a><br /> </p><p> <br /></p><p>Now, what's the plan for the rest of the Zero day, given that it is rather nippy outside? We got spoiled. Hiking in warmer weather makes you reluctant to be ambitious on less hospitable days. Still, I had an idea -- maybe we could tie in a hike to an outing -- a special outing, to a chocolate shop?</p><p>You know that Ed and I have our finger in a number of chocolatiers around town. But just this week I read something about a shop that is totally new to me. It's called <a href="https://www.cocovaa.com">CocoVaa</a> and it's just about a fifteen minute drive for us. So, pretty close. But that's not its main virtue. The person who owns the place and makes all the chocolates just received notice that she is a James Beard Award semifinalist in the "oustanding pastry chef or baker" category for 2024. This nomination made the local press. I didn't pay attention to anything else in the article. I merely told Ed that we <i>must</i> visit the shop. I mean, for a chocolate maker to get that nomination? It has to be more than good!<br /></p><p>CocoVaa is open for retail only on the weekends. (It does most of its business online.) Well, that's great! We can pop in this afternoon!</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3NuiIHNxJAEWAzhdoPyIC03clPFX2TilSU0oQEzSfuVxq8M2YuyEun9mcwQiC1l2HBl4KsbYQLfv-E58dLogFHqYuw849CNXJpNX3_QBhGTgNXIE_mVGrPGqKwXBtV3WNlBNwdsvAQktiuqZkT6F4sNB5kx6jqBGqizb2dh2B5CplHjTkWrVdGQ/s2482/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3NuiIHNxJAEWAzhdoPyIC03clPFX2TilSU0oQEzSfuVxq8M2YuyEun9mcwQiC1l2HBl4KsbYQLfv-E58dLogFHqYuw849CNXJpNX3_QBhGTgNXIE_mVGrPGqKwXBtV3WNlBNwdsvAQktiuqZkT6F4sNB5kx6jqBGqizb2dh2B5CplHjTkWrVdGQ/w543-h441/4.jpg" width="543" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>My brain did not put two and two together, or if it did, I did not come up with four. But as we entered the shop, my attention went not to the chocolate display, but to the woman who stood behind the counter. <i>Nina?</i> -- she asks. And then, because we live in a world of coincidences, the customer guy she was speaking with also said -- <i>Nina?</i></p><p>Turns out I know both of them. Him -- I used to bake with him at L'Etoile Restaurant in town. Like twenty years ago. (I forgive myself for not remembering his name.) But the star player here is the chocolate maker herself -- <a href="https://www.cocovaa.com/about">Vata Edari</a> (or Syovata as she is formally referred to). </p><p>Vata used to be a student of mine, way back when (she'd practiced law for 15 years and studied chocolate making for several more and opened her business in 2018, so figure it out for yourself -- it's been a while). And one that I do very much remember. Because she was (and is) smart. And hardworking. And funny. And because she had a baby in the middle of going to school (sometimes bringing her newborn to class when all else failed). How well I know those struggles! (Both my girls were newborns while I was myself a law student.) </p><p>(Here's Vata with her second child, who came along after she was already a lawyer and who helps out at the shop and makes very excellent tea, which we drank while chatting.)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Elf6llL72rR3ULcn7dUuiZwDFNRT7SwsCZHkBpFsaub2-bwhY4NKUpnegeekD56VJ8jLhtciUqWkRdhCvS-2f5LuWCfrLibTqNrjuu6it6psm-MkZhQl-TBC7TsHK0ZaTzAJVxhiOOdiORdG0io_cDS0YwoU_knlKmPLbz0I-w-4BvWK56Z5-Q/s1774/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="709" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Elf6llL72rR3ULcn7dUuiZwDFNRT7SwsCZHkBpFsaub2-bwhY4NKUpnegeekD56VJ8jLhtciUqWkRdhCvS-2f5LuWCfrLibTqNrjuu6it6psm-MkZhQl-TBC7TsHK0ZaTzAJVxhiOOdiORdG0io_cDS0YwoU_knlKmPLbz0I-w-4BvWK56Z5-Q/w616-h709/5.jpg" width="616" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>There are some students you run into, where a mere "hi, how's it going" will do. Not so with Vata. She has a mountain of interesting tales to tell (I mean, how do you go from being a public defender to making exquisite, award winning chocolates? What? You got sued by Mars?? They lost? Ha!). And so Ed rested and we chatted and made plans to meet up soon.</p><p>In the meantime, there are her chocolates. Oh, her chocolates! Here's the box of my selections:</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCoCxm4jXlj_TEh9YxZ1NqBKXxyHg_22sS96KTBJ3QyIfkRMrIHt6Zj72vM7oRQtAcnZE6gyjHo0HPZtJfY6gGRfLIMmuZZiddEdhUKYaEOurJ-q84YjRaTg00skiIA-xCgS_JQQgu_-0glqfEvUvOvx3RcJjA7PmcDjJiWRJ_0-AzqbdgtA4-Q/s3291/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="413" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCoCxm4jXlj_TEh9YxZ1NqBKXxyHg_22sS96KTBJ3QyIfkRMrIHt6Zj72vM7oRQtAcnZE6gyjHo0HPZtJfY6gGRfLIMmuZZiddEdhUKYaEOurJ-q84YjRaTg00skiIA-xCgS_JQQgu_-0glqfEvUvOvx3RcJjA7PmcDjJiWRJ_0-AzqbdgtA4-Q/w462-h413/8.jpg" width="462" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>They're beautiful and intensely flavorful. (You can check out the flavor profiles <a href="https://www.cocovaa.com/the-line-up">here.</a>) Vata uses white chocolate often, which can be a surprise as you bite into a confection. Hers aren't the chocolates you consume by the handful. They're perfect for my once per evening ritual!</p><p><br /></p><p>From the chocolate shop, Ed and I head over to the nearby Olbrich Gardens, to check out what, if anything is blooming right now. </p><p>We discover two surprise patches of flowers. These irises:</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hqIUi2y_M7a3-ESga3NHKMA6xl8eLT7Q3zpemI7xvntFsfBJSDUTNuf6M_YY02LHaKMOoFt0V_VfNd0tQOlCYV-pxLIWwBM1lYfGtfTfnVCJqScAl29cDOk2Oc-x7t1IrMHRs0q3s9f9kZy-ZTtoDbhUCFcNjIb_VTMrZmA2rPKoqakMA3QuIA/s2585/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hqIUi2y_M7a3-ESga3NHKMA6xl8eLT7Q3zpemI7xvntFsfBJSDUTNuf6M_YY02LHaKMOoFt0V_VfNd0tQOlCYV-pxLIWwBM1lYfGtfTfnVCJqScAl29cDOk2Oc-x7t1IrMHRs0q3s9f9kZy-ZTtoDbhUCFcNjIb_VTMrZmA2rPKoqakMA3QuIA/w640-h546/6.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And delightful patches of Snowdrops.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrMzaqcWu7zfTnWhylNpU06lidTolXLJ_Z93dvPXBtVOVzX_35S9OqbarsY9T1R8LranKRWoet5iJd5LTovATT1ANl2p8EABnCgaKPpHpjcsipIZOHKvauiBZQCvwKFJxV4ERL7M6JOmB-5LY6_WlmXMfgrQyfu-v7pmcblcYJZqQvMGkjKMjlQ/s4277/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="735" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrMzaqcWu7zfTnWhylNpU06lidTolXLJ_Z93dvPXBtVOVzX_35S9OqbarsY9T1R8LranKRWoet5iJd5LTovATT1ANl2p8EABnCgaKPpHpjcsipIZOHKvauiBZQCvwKFJxV4ERL7M6JOmB-5LY6_WlmXMfgrQyfu-v7pmcblcYJZqQvMGkjKMjlQ/w505-h735/7.jpg" width="505" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I mean, it's not a lot, but darn it, we're not even in mid-March yet.</p><p>The day ends with all chickens, of their own volition, strutting into the coop for the night once more, and two very relaxed farmhouse humans sampling exquisite chocolates on the couch. </p><p>with so much love...<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-48576131605676774412024-03-08T20:32:00.001-06:002024-03-08T20:32:16.453-06:00Friday<p>When I was in the Galileo Museum of Science in Florence (last week), I ended my walk through it in the gift shop. I looked around for something that might interest the kids. A book on the astronomer. Okay, that. What else? I picked up a book that was I suppose deemed "scientific." It had number games and puzzles. Target age? Somewhere around Snowdrop's. Maybe a bit older, but not a lot. I leafed through the pages. I was, after all, an econometrics major for half my college years. Calculus? No problem! I wasn't a math whizz, but I was solid!</p><p>So why did the math puzzles suddenly seem.. not so easy? Doable, but with effort! A lot of effort! </p><p>This morning, the NYTimes offered <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2024/03/08/us/sat-online-quiz.html">sample questions</a> from the new reading comprehension SAT's. Those were reassuringly straightforward for a person who is 70 and reads and writes during very many of her waking hours. What's the takeaway here? Use it or lose it! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm retreating to do some math puzzles on the side. I didn't buy the book in the Galileo shop (I was afraid that I'd be stuck figuring them out with Snowdrop or Sparrow and I sooooo prefer reading with them!), but I <i>am</i> on the lookout for a book that would basically be for people-who-are-getting-older-and-are-afraid-of-losing-their-math-skills. If you know of one, send me a message! </p><p> </p><p>Chicken report: well, it's drizzling today. And we caught a racoon prowling around the coop. Neither of those are exactly cheer-inducing, but, on the other hand, the garden really needs rain and the racoon did not get into the coop so all's good so far. And the hens did go out. All of them. </p><p> (the four new ones, tentatively...)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pnKVdpdcikut_MyLa8jY8I-TrWbdM1OR_lhO_I34MyGlalF53kd7oJuUHy7_0X-1cAAvQDp-U_kqPpJ_bC1_qYnIOVb7yhXWtIOmj6nnCgaoHluzqZyv6e9K-01DH5mYo04sjVG9bfPw_MydmDe-TKjMRCNEz5Q-q7hTivF6WNLshRBLP60tJw/s3297/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="713" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pnKVdpdcikut_MyLa8jY8I-TrWbdM1OR_lhO_I34MyGlalF53kd7oJuUHy7_0X-1cAAvQDp-U_kqPpJ_bC1_qYnIOVb7yhXWtIOmj6nnCgaoHluzqZyv6e9K-01DH5mYo04sjVG9bfPw_MydmDe-TKjMRCNEz5Q-q7hTivF6WNLshRBLP60tJw/w517-h713/1.jpg" width="517" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>At least for a short while. Turns out chickens don't really like rain. What a surprise.</p><p>(But hey, the rain is a boost to spring flowers. Just look at these budding daffodils!)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcx0_6U9u3QSERXZqkj8U_c9df4S76ZRPcjvyfgxdV-QPTqETe61PPI6DX3-ZaaWtgNgUY0O5StXF3tpYkB7F5nJrAcL1wemlgwN7KNpltxuJcRy2oJ5XIQ8NPkb_rorLEI23Hz5Ffx4B5lpo1BseHUPJqe6Q9w-e1PwSfc8kFhv1-5kYXmUzDA/s2279/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcx0_6U9u3QSERXZqkj8U_c9df4S76ZRPcjvyfgxdV-QPTqETe61PPI6DX3-ZaaWtgNgUY0O5StXF3tpYkB7F5nJrAcL1wemlgwN7KNpltxuJcRy2oJ5XIQ8NPkb_rorLEI23Hz5Ffx4B5lpo1BseHUPJqe6Q9w-e1PwSfc8kFhv1-5kYXmUzDA/w360-h400/4.jpg" width="360" /></a><br /> <br /></p><p> </p><p>Breakfast. Yup. Always with the two of them these days...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mlk1MFE9xBOLUtTU2LG17rq4lVm1-VImzePAsS8AsNocpadck_x8xwnEvkJL19SiB0dqnE3lLJSmYjW-uOMjNwqwfaYQuPSr9FWm7ZaqO71_Fmj6YISWo-hD2shMAfvz1wgH_P3C3E3EKU8lp2U_orqsOc76NBkXUHuZnls-nOFYHvKt-_x_LQ/s4128/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mlk1MFE9xBOLUtTU2LG17rq4lVm1-VImzePAsS8AsNocpadck_x8xwnEvkJL19SiB0dqnE3lLJSmYjW-uOMjNwqwfaYQuPSr9FWm7ZaqO71_Fmj6YISWo-hD2shMAfvz1wgH_P3C3E3EKU8lp2U_orqsOc76NBkXUHuZnls-nOFYHvKt-_x_LQ/w640-h426/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>A wet morning means that I don't have to feel guilty about staying inside. That's a good thing. I'm out of blueberry muffins for Snowdrop. Sparrow likes his M.Sourdough cookies, but the little girl way prefers my muffins. I aim to please both.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDoNojx6i-v9SpCEZt7VViuYA_ALFE8RLql2uEYyqOqa9C7NTPT_ufJgGkESAxhLWYwk-Yt_J9OFH2Bs1gDph-KXK05EQzp2GzzreTEVUyk2-txhDYktXgyOJuab-Y9oXpA3PfJpOiYtnPu7l_4qe3C2Lv1ZIkY0V7NMs765ymFW6mMLyfAPxDQ/s3221/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDoNojx6i-v9SpCEZt7VViuYA_ALFE8RLql2uEYyqOqa9C7NTPT_ufJgGkESAxhLWYwk-Yt_J9OFH2Bs1gDph-KXK05EQzp2GzzreTEVUyk2-txhDYktXgyOJuab-Y9oXpA3PfJpOiYtnPu7l_4qe3C2Lv1ZIkY0V7NMs765ymFW6mMLyfAPxDQ/w400-h326/3.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>The rest of the morning is devoted to mom issues. You want to live a long life, you can expect to have issues. She tells me hers, I address them. The list is long.<br /></p><p>And now it is time to pick up the kids. And rush them inside. Away from the rain.<br /></p><p>(She "borrows" his computer to do a round of "the cat game.")<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCeflr3bIJcy7jEQlsKiOcaGmA48I2eYq4_2tbBT2H9np_sh8z2wWd0DE_P8qLxCXXdeQpuP0_gxuC5-Cs8pHRhcLJkx8X8S6rGovbBbytmol-rbjDgWbY1GZLKiBDWbNIl0ldsLAuI09EhRsmVgMbO_Lyvd8y2wRwBUG3SC3iwRXVgGonl4UN-g/s4270/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCeflr3bIJcy7jEQlsKiOcaGmA48I2eYq4_2tbBT2H9np_sh8z2wWd0DE_P8qLxCXXdeQpuP0_gxuC5-Cs8pHRhcLJkx8X8S6rGovbBbytmol-rbjDgWbY1GZLKiBDWbNIl0ldsLAuI09EhRsmVgMbO_Lyvd8y2wRwBUG3SC3iwRXVgGonl4UN-g/w705-h425/5.jpg" width="705" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Friday winds up the week for us neatly. With lessons for the kids and scrambling to get them ready on time for me. But I like the idea of pulling together to accomplish a goal. When we make our timeline, without issue, I shout out "on time performance!" and they cheer. A feeling of accomplishment prevails. </p><p>And after I leave the last one to her dance lesson, I meander over to the grocery store for a late evening grocery shopping, because the store is close to the last lesson drop off, and because this then frees me for the weekend from food-related chores. As I walk up and down the aisles I think -- did I even remember that this is International Women's Day? Does it matter to me?</p><p>Sure it does. I am so quickly brought back in my thoughts to when I was just 15 and so sure that women's issues were history, an unsavory history but history nonetheless. Ha ha ha. My dad had warned me -- <i>the problem of pushing women aside, of managing their lives, of resenting their freedom wont go away in your generation. It will take longer.</i></p><p>He was so right.</p><p>Still, I live with a guy who has never wanted to be a dominant figure in anyone's life, male or female and though at this very minute I just finished opening his eyes to the mess around his couch space (to which he then points out the tchotchke in his line of vision, and I follow with a reminder that this is my space, or at least a space where my decorating preferences trump his...), Ed and I haven't the gender/dominance issues that are still so prevalent in the world around us. For this I am so grateful1</p><p>Reheat chili, open a celebratory bottle of Prosecco, smile.</p><p>With so much love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-79251606699389067332024-03-07T21:44:00.001-06:002024-03-07T21:44:38.865-06:00Thursday<p>The chickens are a mere cartoon version of our own daily trajectory. Honestly, you think they're not thinking it through to structure for themselves a good life? Well, neither are we! Take this morning. I head out to open the coop for them. The two older girls -- Blue 9 and Blue 11 (these are the foot bands we slapped on their claws) -- meander toward the courtyard. Eventually one flies up to the garage rafters where she now retires at dusk, and lays eggs during the morning hours. Stupid for her to scale the walls and position herself in a tight, uncomfortable corner up there? Oh yeah! Just as dumb as falling asleep on the uncomfortable couch and staying there with a cramped neck all night. The other chicken, her buddy, ambles over to the hydrangea bush where she looks rather forlorn. Since the loss of her three compatriots, and the garage laying habits of the other Blue hen, she is often walking the farmette lands on her own. Girl, there are four new chickens just waiting to be integrated into your fold! Hang with them! They need your guidance and worldly wisdom.</p><p>(The Yellow Brave one -- meaning the new one year old with the yellow band on her foot -- is off and running. Also alone. The three babes are too <i>chicken</i> to head out!)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuEhlk_zEQbw9-PgjOOHFpbELaS7ZJb4XD4EbZUM_jzx5faZ8dHzItXp1CpzD47lDMLYgGbAS_rWVEeUKEijlB_V34ITNgNVrAILDTpjbn_TDqRqMqAraZ6qUh8fL5Z2sUan7sunftzytVbf_GVPTTkF0VwC0hXLJg95IdGPMS-LOC4ay5kNUL2g/s2947/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuEhlk_zEQbw9-PgjOOHFpbELaS7ZJb4XD4EbZUM_jzx5faZ8dHzItXp1CpzD47lDMLYgGbAS_rWVEeUKEijlB_V34ITNgNVrAILDTpjbn_TDqRqMqAraZ6qUh8fL5Z2sUan7sunftzytVbf_GVPTTkF0VwC0hXLJg95IdGPMS-LOC4ay5kNUL2g/w640-h608/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>In other words, the small things that would obviously improve their day are so within reach and yet they look elsewhere, choosing the colorful path, the immediate temptation. Just like humans!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwScHfexN95Vjp6MplcDhB6aClxGEQpSiCG_iqO_2ucXPM4sVAUMEr2Pu8gknnpCjw5xrmgqLUi3FBrba6U9mJzvpMXFClG3jpqdHKhUs0AFq0-bzdIqQ8nQzfAIWGTKWwxpWX8Q10f3lqWI9CJRNCjmmz4eoPNNfivlzFia1qaz4S0rklTXDDg/s2646/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="461" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwScHfexN95Vjp6MplcDhB6aClxGEQpSiCG_iqO_2ucXPM4sVAUMEr2Pu8gknnpCjw5xrmgqLUi3FBrba6U9mJzvpMXFClG3jpqdHKhUs0AFq0-bzdIqQ8nQzfAIWGTKWwxpWX8Q10f3lqWI9CJRNCjmmz4eoPNNfivlzFia1qaz4S0rklTXDDg/w456-h461/4.jpg" width="456" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Ed and I come back to oatmeal this morning.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKN4s9p9lv7kx8xfwXSnEbTjdvawX8jeAtvWVkR6YjbWzA5Y0qG0Nylfuu9cZbdqVhshyphenhyphenGVc8spdHM7qjcLCIjL3RmEvCcpllS9q8YJHCzvudnM2ym4gmGJIFXD3Ac-Tvm3C_G-Fssiv6YS2k7rZSwTIVxPOgvKJWtnZnJ8xSyZzKV-cFHxuRAFQ/s3925/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKN4s9p9lv7kx8xfwXSnEbTjdvawX8jeAtvWVkR6YjbWzA5Y0qG0Nylfuu9cZbdqVhshyphenhyphenGVc8spdHM7qjcLCIjL3RmEvCcpllS9q8YJHCzvudnM2ym4gmGJIFXD3Ac-Tvm3C_G-Fssiv6YS2k7rZSwTIVxPOgvKJWtnZnJ8xSyZzKV-cFHxuRAFQ/w640-h434/5.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Immediately after, I worked (not very hard) on preparing birthday greetings to my two sons-in-law. Fate would have it that they have birthdays within ten days of each other, which is rather a gift for me as it allows me to think, reflect and admire the both of them at the same time. What matters, of course, is that my girls love them and that they make them happy. Luck would have it that I like the both of them as well, but of course, it would be hard to imagine otherwise, given how good they are to and for my daughters. </p><p>From there, I move to the flower fields, clippers in hand. I am very aware of the fact that I can do so much less at one haul this year than last year and even less than the year before. That's okay! Given the lovely weather of the past few days, I got a head start on the season. And I'm mindful of what Ed said -- we do as much as we can and as much as we want to (that, for me, is not necessarily the same thing, but it's close enough!). And then we pause. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFmdbUthFc3CY5nH498UZmI6I47QpQMzyZvooNbDDJHBst_6vqVm0uXirVpOsXmZS9GWxFzEEonhrFjgHyETeB4UcMOzDcTZRezPwiTOj7-NVZz_CM5X9wodKDSCfakRYDYbXibrC7nTlOQjV8jDlhmpSEKWLnUKH06byziuHfCX5U-JCqZqzjQ/s3659/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFmdbUthFc3CY5nH498UZmI6I47QpQMzyZvooNbDDJHBst_6vqVm0uXirVpOsXmZS9GWxFzEEonhrFjgHyETeB4UcMOzDcTZRezPwiTOj7-NVZz_CM5X9wodKDSCfakRYDYbXibrC7nTlOQjV8jDlhmpSEKWLnUKH06byziuHfCX5U-JCqZqzjQ/w640-h514/6.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>My pause is actually a bit of a rush -- to pick up the kids at school.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd9mgnyJCxPZm8eDx2IsVnMcMxna7wCDEaNXe-NvIs-4mn_6Thx-xTAkSjgEkqRtb0jtnH6TAy_on-48SaNHw7HkaSvHmG72lAisNT-kW0XQL8w6ZOANIpCIqjuE444nhriL25UJ21beS5EcrpDKu9QDab1745IgYqQsbHYw4IWBXoTl8xMgBXyA/s3316/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd9mgnyJCxPZm8eDx2IsVnMcMxna7wCDEaNXe-NvIs-4mn_6Thx-xTAkSjgEkqRtb0jtnH6TAy_on-48SaNHw7HkaSvHmG72lAisNT-kW0XQL8w6ZOANIpCIqjuE444nhriL25UJ21beS5EcrpDKu9QDab1745IgYqQsbHYw4IWBXoTl8xMgBXyA/w516-h640/7.jpg" width="516" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbbDVh2lQUcVFRAaKiEWpcxVlhyphenhyphenfsp1P2XnhT78bpAohbp9vNrgAbL-YSgpb2wskd-bV5myyPeq_vRzQFT89UG4LZDxsW9kPWPe3TqHufp0y8sMSLakS_2uPWK-e9skz57iWa4qTgU_zbgs8n2d06yc_BPn9yJx8xDJH8mg83WmbRWrzfSdlQIw/s3169/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="735" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbbDVh2lQUcVFRAaKiEWpcxVlhyphenhyphenfsp1P2XnhT78bpAohbp9vNrgAbL-YSgpb2wskd-bV5myyPeq_vRzQFT89UG4LZDxsW9kPWPe3TqHufp0y8sMSLakS_2uPWK-e9skz57iWa4qTgU_zbgs8n2d06yc_BPn9yJx8xDJH8mg83WmbRWrzfSdlQIw/w517-h735/8.jpg" width="517" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>From there -- to the nearby pie place to pick up a pie for their dad (it's his day!).</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjxZBXbTMc2jsewo_XQeZP7IsLmtfGb1PBHM2pu9shxiBKMZOeI_vWP7ya78VIIcn-p2BKdFw7HqhAL1mLwtdPVPdXigRCdGuCis9I5AKkbfh2YSEL8iO6nqipJzsYED9O-fCQwrvq7Nsk7eV-sxatZttR_JUO_urGFZ_As4IrPoZbXoq3rNtEQ/s4043/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="734" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjxZBXbTMc2jsewo_XQeZP7IsLmtfGb1PBHM2pu9shxiBKMZOeI_vWP7ya78VIIcn-p2BKdFw7HqhAL1mLwtdPVPdXigRCdGuCis9I5AKkbfh2YSEL8iO6nqipJzsYED9O-fCQwrvq7Nsk7eV-sxatZttR_JUO_urGFZ_As4IrPoZbXoq3rNtEQ/w486-h734/9.jpg" width="486" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And back to the farmhouse. We read, yes, that's a given. But, too, I have to snitch little moments -- to deal with the laundry, to tidy up the playroom, to peel tomatoes for tonight's chili. And in doing that last task, I glance outside, and what I see warms my heart: all six chickens, momentarily together.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKqlDMlnuK5-LwVHVgfmaQz0GRl4qIrqLAJV6fcdzrG8GjfMtHPh9BFGpjVrILDAdPGQLYmFhschFj1M3uQUtE_vMcW8PjlAoV0TBBs9TkZSXZ8P2huDQzl3N31TWmG2I4b0VXqW9UdCyLhMIN3UoIN4e57zyUbro6BDkFYV5rX23DMpDkc9HNA/s2799/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKqlDMlnuK5-LwVHVgfmaQz0GRl4qIrqLAJV6fcdzrG8GjfMtHPh9BFGpjVrILDAdPGQLYmFhschFj1M3uQUtE_vMcW8PjlAoV0TBBs9TkZSXZ8P2huDQzl3N31TWmG2I4b0VXqW9UdCyLhMIN3UoIN4e57zyUbro6BDkFYV5rX23DMpDkc9HNA/w640-h474/10.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Way to go, girls! Strength in numbers! </p><p>Indeed, at dusk, they all go into the coop, even the garage girl. Wow. We are in a moment of total chicken calm and unity! And here I thought they were like us, drifting and confused.</p><p>We all have so much to learn.</p><p>Chili, chocolate, couch. The three c's of a beautiful evening. </p><p>with so much love...<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-37609837199312495032024-03-06T21:00:00.000-06:002024-03-06T21:00:35.661-06:00Wednesday<p>If you follow the CDC recommendations and get all your Covid vaccinations when they are made available for you, oh senior person, then you should be in line to get your 9th Covid shot now. I kid you not, I'm on my 9th today (as is Ed). The first was in January 2021. It feels no less wonderful to get this one. Freedom. It buys me a dose of it. Travel with less worry. Kids, at my house, daily, with less worry. Keeping the virus away from Ed (who has never had it). All of it, thanks to that miracle that kept so many of us out of hospitals and off the obit pages of our local newspaper.</p><p>And speaking of freedom, today is the day I walk over to the coop to grant all six girls their freedom.And of course, only the two older ones, along with a hesitant one year old strut out of the coop, dusting off their feathers and embarking on their day long bug and seed search. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhccQjD0LbgjfYJnG3JTKY6LZ5XYDgdNfdTo56Nja_CoAQLXsgKBFot6DDjGAr2WBzN2HUKhiiQYLgALK-2Uvhcfp2IhQDU2ZuHxe5ZQ1pfO8DIcIC17z1YmnbVM7rC02_lp79bBmyH7rD0809dBpn4jnhgtKXSlxJBTVtpGonTy5HvKjIpYCaFEA/s2827/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="572" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhccQjD0LbgjfYJnG3JTKY6LZ5XYDgdNfdTo56Nja_CoAQLXsgKBFot6DDjGAr2WBzN2HUKhiiQYLgALK-2Uvhcfp2IhQDU2ZuHxe5ZQ1pfO8DIcIC17z1YmnbVM7rC02_lp79bBmyH7rD0809dBpn4jnhgtKXSlxJBTVtpGonTy5HvKjIpYCaFEA/w640-h572/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p>The three teenagers, bold that they were the first day, are not so sure that the wide and unencumbered world is such a fine place after all. They stay in the coop for the better part of the morning. Mission accomplished! They feel safe there! They will remember the warmth of the coop at the end of the day!</p><p>Wont they? <br /></p><p>Meanwhile, Ed and I have our breakfast feeling at peace with the world, with the hens, with the cats too. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVA6f0sZY8R8XcNYklLwbPXXb3KT6QvyyyLXHm19_LaPVXzYhvUBmf8HS2FNfH1faKGmDW82poR6y2Cfl3rxZRkHh_kn_MLVyJ06t7KXLPxBuzxsI8vr8whIHW1ZNGQF_SO1tw2rBhaFBqMmeEyJzRbmyjdnKEr4dgdNqwjhmC0I_HQ5irB714Q/s2860/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVA6f0sZY8R8XcNYklLwbPXXb3KT6QvyyyLXHm19_LaPVXzYhvUBmf8HS2FNfH1faKGmDW82poR6y2Cfl3rxZRkHh_kn_MLVyJ06t7KXLPxBuzxsI8vr8whIHW1ZNGQF_SO1tw2rBhaFBqMmeEyJzRbmyjdnKEr4dgdNqwjhmC0I_HQ5irB714Q/w640-h566/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>No one is fighting, no one is destroying the flower beds. Yet. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_Ti-tFcF3SYQHytGE-m3_cnXuf6IgUsqSeBufEeUoapaZ1-L6WKmjfLwva3THs4Jqu2Ht1lLxJmJ0wBolL2LcPCGJkB9kYBVhBpF3smSaJWTu-ZajA5Ek4_uzENNowmZ3uGLZx_uiZxzMi2dSxD7r5sZGUD0HQQeb_j2n9FyawU1BkWKUkCDbw/s2417/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_Ti-tFcF3SYQHytGE-m3_cnXuf6IgUsqSeBufEeUoapaZ1-L6WKmjfLwva3THs4Jqu2Ht1lLxJmJ0wBolL2LcPCGJkB9kYBVhBpF3smSaJWTu-ZajA5Ek4_uzENNowmZ3uGLZx_uiZxzMi2dSxD7r5sZGUD0HQQeb_j2n9FyawU1BkWKUkCDbw/w511-h540/4.jpg" width="511" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>It's sunny and beautiful outside. A tad on the cool side, but lovely nonetheless. I do a spot weed pull and Ed mows down my trimmings so that they'd decompose faster and more evenly. In other words, we do some slight garden work at a very relaxed pace, all the way until lunchtime. (Well, my lunch is the usual protein cookie and coffee. Most everyone has a meal that they can do without. For me it's lunch. Still, I have to keep that energy level going strong, given my afternoon kid commitment, so I reach for my newest friend -- a Go Macro bar.<br /></p><p>And speaking of kids...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQyDSTbHhCIBy-szdMR7NVku8eIZ2fOnYxaxvsUNYMpvmFfDc8j78J0tH5bskW61MD-EFQw3_BfaVV8Ud01tZOw1SeabjO_9s-C_4Xa46oH5aiSVTfkujVGJ6dFprtS4W5WVhMrQ0BbRUEjsUXVaYfK5cFKUTtF7HClu7gdukVZHYTqpgILj2aA/s3243/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="703" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQyDSTbHhCIBy-szdMR7NVku8eIZ2fOnYxaxvsUNYMpvmFfDc8j78J0tH5bskW61MD-EFQw3_BfaVV8Ud01tZOw1SeabjO_9s-C_4Xa46oH5aiSVTfkujVGJ6dFprtS4W5WVhMrQ0BbRUEjsUXVaYfK5cFKUTtF7HClu7gdukVZHYTqpgILj2aA/w479-h703/5.jpg" width="479" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin2uMHvbxKz9T7RyNImPbt2908e7W75ZMesy1ktxKqgMe0fSM3P6mYLftSc5-bHH6-no-lsxloxQoxjksJIyn2sKaMoyBLlmzcy4SpSKJTR1AgtfWr_sJyXRmHfTC7UK40t-pQbs4V0UcHMXozArA4KvncSJRoziHd0bEbmvgRt7iYExLj_zL0yw/s1532/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin2uMHvbxKz9T7RyNImPbt2908e7W75ZMesy1ktxKqgMe0fSM3P6mYLftSc5-bHH6-no-lsxloxQoxjksJIyn2sKaMoyBLlmzcy4SpSKJTR1AgtfWr_sJyXRmHfTC7UK40t-pQbs4V0UcHMXozArA4KvncSJRoziHd0bEbmvgRt7iYExLj_zL0yw/w640-h638/6.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>A good day was had by all. Oh, sure, there's always a report on some skirmish between the usual suspects in class, but happily, nothing terribly troublesome, and nothing that made either child sad.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Onf2Ubqhvx1GeaE8XAJKdueIOasuqmbA5Nney6HCZldZ7zphFnte8cWud4zuw7icPtIwWM3UI-GBxY5JRllYksGgZo2B0Lu2FszFdL0SYpdAfPH9UBT96tHISjQ-AHWVnFCds8qTpvAwx91C-D9eeuHy6gWrwv3Z_N9IXarOCEVbLLYcVAWWkQ/s2034/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="755" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Onf2Ubqhvx1GeaE8XAJKdueIOasuqmbA5Nney6HCZldZ7zphFnte8cWud4zuw7icPtIwWM3UI-GBxY5JRllYksGgZo2B0Lu2FszFdL0SYpdAfPH9UBT96tHISjQ-AHWVnFCds8qTpvAwx91C-D9eeuHy6gWrwv3Z_N9IXarOCEVbLLYcVAWWkQ/w512-h755/7.jpg" width="512" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And in the evening Ed and I rolled up our sleeves (figuratively! It's cold outside!) and faced the chicken-into-the-coop-for-the-night project. Equipped with resolve and a flashlight (in case the hunt would take us late into the night), we picked up the hen that routinely hides in the garage and set off for the barn to deal with the rest.</p><p>You wont believe it! We hardly believed it! The remaining five were all snuggled together in the coop.</p><p>Ed turns to me --<i> that was brilliant</i>! I respond -- <i><span style="color: #800180;">it only shows that the human brain is slightly bigger than the pea sized brain of a chicken. Evolutionary advantage!</span></i> The fact is, though, that we are enormously relieved. Until the next trauma sends the hens into obscure hiding spots, we have the coop issue in hand. Suddenly, chicken care seems like the easiest job in the world.<span style="color: #800180;"></span><br /></p><p>with love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-90502046110357427512024-03-05T21:39:00.003-06:002024-03-05T21:39:29.215-06:00Tuesday<p>The prison sentence continues. Four new hens, locked in the coop for the day. (I'm giving them 48 hours behind bars.) Two older girls -- free to roam.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYcY8MhA8L7bt0lbaiUHr0vX3cJAegHzScvp9Rqaiu0ieNmIBuRKyfGKuPBBkdTuQPBrecJf06O1O4onEXE7kakeoWC23ANmFyLbL0YaUpZxS2c_b3e5M8KAQ4ntM8Bfj6iOg6Ox_MMm3GXbTZB9O9o5qx0curbZZFdY2HL5fFwBxjLQ8QNi6-Q/s2997/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYcY8MhA8L7bt0lbaiUHr0vX3cJAegHzScvp9Rqaiu0ieNmIBuRKyfGKuPBBkdTuQPBrecJf06O1O4onEXE7kakeoWC23ANmFyLbL0YaUpZxS2c_b3e5M8KAQ4ntM8Bfj6iOg6Ox_MMm3GXbTZB9O9o5qx0curbZZFdY2HL5fFwBxjLQ8QNi6-Q/w604-h640/1.jpg" width="604" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Mean? No, realistic. Ed is out on his mega machine design project until evening. I have chores in the morning, kids in the afternoon. Neither of us can go on chicken hunts throughout the day and neither of us wants to search for them late into the night. We're hoping that they will feel enough familiarity with the coop that they wont stray far once we do release them. Tomorrow.</p><p>Our morning is disrupted by the demands of the day. I need refills on bread product for the kids and so long as I have to drive to the bakery (13 minutes each way), I surely want to get a fresh breakfast treat for myself out of the deal. But Ed can't wait for me to get back, so I settle for a breakfast in two parts: first, fruit, with him. Okay, and the cat.<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHyyFlKgwJ_46E1VT_Cj1FeOD5t6RrM0Rw1VHsEWklAL2Czp7zn1bYqqCceieukiyWEdeQT0AN33tOg3643qnUtjB_PpBrkgyOUYjtk0YRyp3e3q42bMKFI9PaLvAT5tLVmjCbgSIVu-N4ZjPfOT8LdqYldowT1_JuuPayyAqPNvaA4aeNi_82w/s3878/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHyyFlKgwJ_46E1VT_Cj1FeOD5t6RrM0Rw1VHsEWklAL2Czp7zn1bYqqCceieukiyWEdeQT0AN33tOg3643qnUtjB_PpBrkgyOUYjtk0YRyp3e3q42bMKFI9PaLvAT5tLVmjCbgSIVu-N4ZjPfOT8LdqYldowT1_JuuPayyAqPNvaA4aeNi_82w/w640-h400/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Then I do my bakery errand...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA3KnB-aik8fMufig-njp8uFdByUx-EIbMKWyJkeJQZ6oDzZChde2bFw9HedJVXKDFJMzePLgXa1hAEgMqlvu73dNL7RYhbhIKuHMSG6xL-Q7EpOHfgi7ZHb1cdcgKrxynvsG7KZ4Wf2lmPQoTcpZE6_smLfRhrcaSRi5rzemnVfvCOhJpjvSyA/s2609/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="543" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA3KnB-aik8fMufig-njp8uFdByUx-EIbMKWyJkeJQZ6oDzZChde2bFw9HedJVXKDFJMzePLgXa1hAEgMqlvu73dNL7RYhbhIKuHMSG6xL-Q7EpOHfgi7ZHb1cdcgKrxynvsG7KZ4Wf2lmPQoTcpZE6_smLfRhrcaSRi5rzemnVfvCOhJpjvSyA/w794-h543/3.jpg" width="794" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>... and I don't go home afterwards. Despite severe coffee deprivation, I drive on to the grocery store to do the weekly shopping. I have a voracious fruit eater here each day (in addition to my own fruit consumption, which is huge!) and I need to restock.</p><p>And only late in the morning do I sit down to breakfast number two. With a double shot of espresso in that milky cup.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeAMtWjKbEV7MVR00fk2zBgqNXMeqJDX4rmbokm-pxkH0jWvpMCuOmCx24xxodpM_X1RMWQfto7ZosqSI4_cOgFb1i_IpkOR2dZhGElTrr9wA_r0HwpUhMzmIwdsAy5cLZaY2iDdbZujo7bj4I0YJgHs2FnFlvosFUujKUwdVgBN62oVNE9jg5zg/s3389/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeAMtWjKbEV7MVR00fk2zBgqNXMeqJDX4rmbokm-pxkH0jWvpMCuOmCx24xxodpM_X1RMWQfto7ZosqSI4_cOgFb1i_IpkOR2dZhGElTrr9wA_r0HwpUhMzmIwdsAy5cLZaY2iDdbZujo7bj4I0YJgHs2FnFlvosFUujKUwdVgBN62oVNE9jg5zg/w556-h640/4.jpg" width="556" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Ah.... Now that feels good!</p><p>A quick check of the house plants follows: here's a real surprise! Last year's Amaryllis, the one I got in December 2022, bloomed again this week. That's not supposed to happen. Those bulbs are a one shot deal. You're supposed to compost them after they do their thing. Except the leaves were pretty, so I left it on the window sill. And guess what?</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJ3p-v_JuQ84LltW6xUdPl_wd9I011zXNyCNWaoFIvQmDUTdfskg5-FRMRiF52_ZX7AShOOBW-3dg2XrUMYHWjRkPqnCBk343_EaKXLHvwdkSWa9gFQn6hcnrjkXgXks6IBpfbfa4AVmuJQCDIKFjX63XUbN6lrnlhBgO1LAQdcgrgCGY39vykw/s3444/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJ3p-v_JuQ84LltW6xUdPl_wd9I011zXNyCNWaoFIvQmDUTdfskg5-FRMRiF52_ZX7AShOOBW-3dg2XrUMYHWjRkPqnCBk343_EaKXLHvwdkSWa9gFQn6hcnrjkXgXks6IBpfbfa4AVmuJQCDIKFjX63XUbN6lrnlhBgO1LAQdcgrgCGY39vykw/w526-h640/5.jpg" width="526" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>It popped open some new flowers for us. Amazing!<br /></p><p>Also blooming? Crocuses outside!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJdH-LRfjohTTjjlnbIhQDNE5zkrQwtnM-M825-eBvWZeuZSTUC5hs6tY8ZtSF_CP0-VKJzuHqmblkfyKyXK3bw8dB7NbjuWNg0ZHXmOYjv0mKEezLTeBOa6gefJAZannFvtuHBPUiR2qKX3GjfYLvwn1WR9pXiZAOMnl08Wwz75BezB18gpDEg/s2860/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJdH-LRfjohTTjjlnbIhQDNE5zkrQwtnM-M825-eBvWZeuZSTUC5hs6tY8ZtSF_CP0-VKJzuHqmblkfyKyXK3bw8dB7NbjuWNg0ZHXmOYjv0mKEezLTeBOa6gefJAZannFvtuHBPUiR2qKX3GjfYLvwn1WR9pXiZAOMnl08Wwz75BezB18gpDEg/w569-h507/6.jpg" width="569" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Okay, great. What else do I have to report from the farmette? Well, the season of "agony" has begun. I fall into a trap today that is about as predictable as a baby wailing just when you want to get some rest. I walk out to the barn to check on the hens. All good there. On the way back, I plucked out a creeping charlie from the Big Bed. And that's when I noticed that there were maybe a million honey locust seed pots littering the flower bed. I have used every strategy in the book to get Ed to agree to take down that locust tree, but he absolutely wont hear of it. Realizing that the seed pods are a real nuisance, he had said that come spring, he would rake them up for me. But Ed is not here today. And good weather days are precious. I should at least start in on the raking job...<br /></p><p>Two hours later, I'm done. The field is cleared. My hands have whopper blisters and my smart watch is sending ecstatic messages congratulating me on exceeding my "workout goals."<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfJYqrv5v_sXwrSfW6hcZEWX-9KLLf_4pQOqToq0za86DrWYaIXdV2UCcRWqrJHkKznfMa0GJKXx_p_g3dr4O4dKirp3kUOSVa3N5oS2Dftl4KdZtCGuE7PlKXje-EuFgp_3fvsGWsF_2sbUtiL7gb8-cujKC0Sl2yP6KyfpUJAFymmobCmCVKQ/s4187/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfJYqrv5v_sXwrSfW6hcZEWX-9KLLf_4pQOqToq0za86DrWYaIXdV2UCcRWqrJHkKznfMa0GJKXx_p_g3dr4O4dKirp3kUOSVa3N5oS2Dftl4KdZtCGuE7PlKXje-EuFgp_3fvsGWsF_2sbUtiL7gb8-cujKC0Sl2yP6KyfpUJAFymmobCmCVKQ/w735-h418/7.jpg" width="735" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I tell you, it's always like this: I pull a weed and before I know it a huge gardening project sucks me in and I am lost to the world. You might think this to be a good thing. So much exercise, right? Maybe, but I am now officially exhausted, even as it is time to pick up two lively kids.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSe9wYWivfW4Oe_FSESpIIfiJQ7niOK42_oUfAmyJ50482sg_zGxUdZlKv-l8uDkKvfklCItu08L68-U1nPgQDmrRrczTkayEF1lqspBp6E9MizcTOaZ4HMIAxadf93DMK-6pnJxnRu8sBRAyedoeZVrnux3M2myqDdn2Ruxqvv9hLVqDbj1_neQ/s2675/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSe9wYWivfW4Oe_FSESpIIfiJQ7niOK42_oUfAmyJ50482sg_zGxUdZlKv-l8uDkKvfklCItu08L68-U1nPgQDmrRrczTkayEF1lqspBp6E9MizcTOaZ4HMIAxadf93DMK-6pnJxnRu8sBRAyedoeZVrnux3M2myqDdn2Ruxqvv9hLVqDbj1_neQ/w524-h640/8.jpg" width="524" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>As we pull into the driveway, my young hawk spotters shout out -- <i>hawks! there are three circling above!</i></p><p>Great. I was planning on releasing the four very visible (so white!) new chickens tomorrow. With spring hawks overhead, we are entering the period of Extreme Chicken Vulnerability. </p><p>Life at the farmette is so full of drama...<br /></p><p> </p><p>Time to pull out the pan and make comfort food for supper. Farro with cauliflower in a tomato cheese sauce. With a Negroni sbagliato at the side. I earned that, for sure!</p><p> </p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-34999660863411549342024-03-04T19:50:00.000-06:002024-03-04T19:50:09.575-06:00Monday<p>A breathe easy day. No rush, no worries, no chicken chasing. Here's how it all unfolded:</p><p>After reviewing our options, and with the understanding that we will have rain and possibly storms tonight, Ed and I decided to keep the 4 new hens in the coop for the day and pluck the two old ones out for their usual bout of free ranging freedom. </p><p>Peace is restored.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOWptZuE2QgNTze6SniTCzc2KfT3g6XwOMwNoycXMTEnt4SiYgwd_uf_3SIQ119SVIveXeaXlw43hLoFrfeLPI-t7O0AtTDkOnmupnCZKE7fdOAhri1R4pzUUJ9EF3gsMb0yodkRaimIL0cmsp_F_qXviA6_c77n1tPBD28YIXMLNilWiFnd9oA/s4078/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="513" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOWptZuE2QgNTze6SniTCzc2KfT3g6XwOMwNoycXMTEnt4SiYgwd_uf_3SIQ119SVIveXeaXlw43hLoFrfeLPI-t7O0AtTDkOnmupnCZKE7fdOAhri1R4pzUUJ9EF3gsMb0yodkRaimIL0cmsp_F_qXviA6_c77n1tPBD28YIXMLNilWiFnd9oA/w771-h513/1.jpg" width="771" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Honestly, I'm not sure that one or two days of confinement will do the trick for the new ones. Chicken memories are weird. Ever since The Raid of a few days back, everything is a little off in our coop. One of the old girls (Ms. no. 9), the one that used to routinely end the day in the coop on her own, refuses to go back there and instead finds night shelter in the garage. (That's the one for which we have to climb a ladder.) Her memory of that awful morning has created a new safer (according to her pea brain) place to rest. So the question is -- will the new girls remember the coop now as a safe place, where nothing bad happens and food gets tossed in by loving wonderful humans, or will they remember it as a place of confinement, best avoided at all costs because awful humans may take out the ax if you go near the place? I'm hoping that it's the first and that training them to love the cozy comfy coop snuggles will create an image that they will conjure up come dusk. But who knows. For now though, I'm sure we want to keep them locked up. Freedom has to be earned!</p><p>All is thus quiet on the farmette lands. Because it is a more typical March day -- above freezing, with that chance of rain, I walk the flower fields and pluck some old spent stalks and inspect what's there and budding. And lo! What do I see if not the first crocuses of the year! A big Wow and Yay for that!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzFl1pRmA-J8idLGxyiR1u6ngyn7iH8JaIrLFw2Yj1vaDF7apLlypuvvEbrPjYCKhCgFg1kAlTH6M1hyl-8uatqSDSBWxw9203_SooKcfhxi0FXZCTcoeoujhA4qoxAIYOn0S4jLO3JEfeHkownNMmPGNGILUTyyT3k4J8piJIY7ItvyJ6Smogg/s2180/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzFl1pRmA-J8idLGxyiR1u6ngyn7iH8JaIrLFw2Yj1vaDF7apLlypuvvEbrPjYCKhCgFg1kAlTH6M1hyl-8uatqSDSBWxw9203_SooKcfhxi0FXZCTcoeoujhA4qoxAIYOn0S4jLO3JEfeHkownNMmPGNGILUTyyT3k4J8piJIY7ItvyJ6Smogg/w570-h566/3.jpg" width="570" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I wash up some gardening gloves for all future walks outside. There are always weeds to pluck and I noticed that those gardening hands of mine have to be more protected than in the past. Skin breaks, infections form. So I get my gloves in order.</p><p>And we eat breakfast, alone (meaning without cats), because the wise felines have decided that this kind of weather deserves respect. Perfect for prowling. So far, thank God, no bird hunting has occurred. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht47rAc8n3Y9zK_alEQ11SIKFJtW4GAklP4Z7kE3izxLBT6btC0LDhic3WIAn1YtkI71hNelQ3rKLNZKgbMaidsxGCLyuBgSqXV1kJlnT-dUhjSSAThrZvufkZ27oUQZ2WTrFUsYtyot717H58XqIhrC-11oMjyiirDDbMyp9T_PcugUjgMGNWzg/s2838/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht47rAc8n3Y9zK_alEQ11SIKFJtW4GAklP4Z7kE3izxLBT6btC0LDhic3WIAn1YtkI71hNelQ3rKLNZKgbMaidsxGCLyuBgSqXV1kJlnT-dUhjSSAThrZvufkZ27oUQZ2WTrFUsYtyot717H58XqIhrC-11oMjyiirDDbMyp9T_PcugUjgMGNWzg/w640-h526/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I spend the morning on trip planning. I have one coming up and it requires careful advance work. I cannot tell you how happy I am to have a calendar full of reservations and ideas once I am in a new place, so that I don't have to frantically scour around for what's available. I have been warned by the hotels of my forthcoming destinations that I am traveling in the Holy Week before Easter (so you can guess it's a country that has a significant commitment to religious holidays) and that things will be crowded and booked up. Well fine. I can handle that. With advance legwork!</p><p>And then it's time to pick up Snowdrop. </p><p>I wondered if she would feel that emptiness of her missing friend (the one who moved away this weekend). If she did, she did not show it. Kids flash quickly between emotions and Snowdrop is especially chill when she comes to the farmhouse.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FNAwmyWwG2zcmOpZjyGo9nM8-toQR1rYQslBXSAeYIB9-v_A0WtVhBggjyCeiOUb-GP3aJRt7eD1voldyh4tVUPIc3gpnhdVM61BTraIHoCJzD3MgbdSPsJIQQAQBo81tlmJLewcKNR9Aw_ApKZGj4QbxV5CJ_i2-BawBvQfT3T0khTNL5yGew/s3925/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="771" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FNAwmyWwG2zcmOpZjyGo9nM8-toQR1rYQslBXSAeYIB9-v_A0WtVhBggjyCeiOUb-GP3aJRt7eD1voldyh4tVUPIc3gpnhdVM61BTraIHoCJzD3MgbdSPsJIQQAQBo81tlmJLewcKNR9Aw_ApKZGj4QbxV5CJ_i2-BawBvQfT3T0khTNL5yGew/w511-h771/4.jpg" width="511" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>We spend a lovely afternoon reading together.</p><p>In the evening --- well, it's Monday, so it's time for leftovers for supper. And a return to Loudermilk, our current series of choice on Netflix. [Yesterday, we had watched the next episode of Pete, the framer's YouTube video -- "Just a Few Acres Farm" -- which he posts every few days. It was, in my view, an especially troubling episode, because he took some time to reflect on how much venom and uninformed commentary there was these days, so that fringe beliefs get center stage as people feel compelled to express their contrarian views. I imagine he'd gotten the usual bunch of crazy commentary on his videos. I was sorry to see Pete so sad over this and I asked Ed if he thought we'd all turned meaner these last few years -- in our thoughts as much as in our words. His answer? --<i> No, of course not. Remember, we had a Civil War not so long ago</i>... I suppose it's somewhat reassuring to know we've always been a mean bunch. I can only hope that we're all working on it!]</p><p>Flashes of thunder and rain outside. That's a good thing. Plants need the soak.Yep, a good old fashioned cleansing rain.<br /></p><p>With love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-51541014990141293052024-03-03T21:30:00.001-06:002024-03-04T17:57:28.870-06:00Sunday<p>Freedom. A superb idea. Until it isn't. Because sometimes, you have to teach those who long for freedom how to use it wisely when it is theirs. You can't just open the gates and say -- <i>you're free, you're free </i>and give a nudge and expect all things to fall into place.</p><p>You know of course that I'm talking about chickens. And you may rightly suspect that the above is a thought that came to me not this morning, when I was opening the gates of their confinement, but rather this afternoon, when I was chasing chickens out of our one neighbor's yard.</p><p>You'll have read perhaps that yesterday we added four young hens to our flock (of the <i>American</i> Bresse variety, because if she isn't living in the Savoie region of France, she's not a full fledged Bresse girl, no matter what her genetic material may be). You remember maybe that one escaped in the transfer to the coop and we had to chase her up and down and all around, until darkness fell and she collapsed with exhaustion as we cornered her in the barn.</p><p>This morning (and it is a lovely morning and an even lovelier afternoon!), I went out to open up the coop. Our strategy always had been to let the newbies out with the older girls. Eventually they form a pack and in all instances, they see the coop and the barn as their home depot. The new ones never stray far from that base. Initially anyway.</p><p>That was the way it worked in the past. These four new girls are an entirely novel proposition. </p><p>I'm trying to think like a chicken here and I suppose belatedly, I'm not surprised that their initial instinct is to flee. Suddenly, these teenage chicks are without boundaries in a strange place with strange animals (cats) and people (us) threatening them (in their chicken heads, we are a threat). Of course they're going to get away as fast as they can. </p><p>My hope is that they wont move far from the barn. That they eventually will join the two older ones. But today, all bets are off. The two old ones go as they usually do to the garage (who knows why -- it's their routine). The four younger ones? Once outside, they convene...</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDGVDTk6TXVPpiROhb_VX_sHF7fGylVMrGiQzBwxzKTn3w5g3UA-P2RJWFxmzKkSLg7V6_M50aNTyDevNrhTG-vFyBCHwdc0uWZtzzZhXcY4nQRB4zCnammQylguHNjWYqf09XQ_je5LkR_78WJjK_PRabbYVGJAhKeNmEp88qNYCc8dSFDyHvQ/s3730/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDGVDTk6TXVPpiROhb_VX_sHF7fGylVMrGiQzBwxzKTn3w5g3UA-P2RJWFxmzKkSLg7V6_M50aNTyDevNrhTG-vFyBCHwdc0uWZtzzZhXcY4nQRB4zCnammQylguHNjWYqf09XQ_je5LkR_78WJjK_PRabbYVGJAhKeNmEp88qNYCc8dSFDyHvQ/w706-h510/1.jpg" width="706" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>And then they part ways. Two of them go to the eastern edge and hide under the huge pine for the better part of the day. Well, at least they're not wandering away! (Do you see them?)<br /></p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNP-O4Ldc4j70scSuUwkMrxyUTaIxs6pbOYzZ9eco7nO6B0aqn3d6bxVA5ubv8rHgw1KLQNjYbVIZxW1sL9rTBSTlj4adBmbQhuYARAzIBjrdIwybBxAJ-iourrd6juP7CjlOV25wjaRHuL-g8t4DCRwSLZDLweXOdsz0ZZ2Zs0PwMpfcnEwce9g/s2118/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="678" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNP-O4Ldc4j70scSuUwkMrxyUTaIxs6pbOYzZ9eco7nO6B0aqn3d6bxVA5ubv8rHgw1KLQNjYbVIZxW1sL9rTBSTlj4adBmbQhuYARAzIBjrdIwybBxAJ-iourrd6juP7CjlOV25wjaRHuL-g8t4DCRwSLZDLweXOdsz0ZZ2Zs0PwMpfcnEwce9g/w704-h678/4.jpg" width="704" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>The two remaining ones, however, flee to the west. I chase them back (if you do a wide sweep, you can chase them, sort of). </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqfesmymt24jK1iJJ41TZOn3QTogFZNdib6SAy5L9lpPmS9W_Z7nMCSNN49CnIV9s64qwhOKQ7LMI1bcqDJDTuPaeEPcj_TfOb_m4-OfhUOVLplYUYwiZiFa2N_POICaGiNxS3rv3qynUczSYe8_7zTi5i-rQjvEWN8MesqCuQM4rdr03R_eebQ/s2594/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="661" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqfesmymt24jK1iJJ41TZOn3QTogFZNdib6SAy5L9lpPmS9W_Z7nMCSNN49CnIV9s64qwhOKQ7LMI1bcqDJDTuPaeEPcj_TfOb_m4-OfhUOVLplYUYwiZiFa2N_POICaGiNxS3rv3qynUczSYe8_7zTi5i-rQjvEWN8MesqCuQM4rdr03R_eebQ/w729-h661/3.jpg" width="729" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>I go in, we eat breakfast...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOckxJxVJ4zVxeYpM9Q0NAC8cuZlcSKvF-I7_dGs-jeoLW2_88GknLAM35guefYEjI-QXFxxQBYkJROwB5LrZL09KPv6uBZ3QeLu0Q4HhRgFxVSjOECQGNJDa6z3cUX2IQ6n3BNyfrIj03NRZSW8JHSufNmu2mqu5S2KPqIfutm4s41wHUZrwX3w/s2916/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOckxJxVJ4zVxeYpM9Q0NAC8cuZlcSKvF-I7_dGs-jeoLW2_88GknLAM35guefYEjI-QXFxxQBYkJROwB5LrZL09KPv6uBZ3QeLu0Q4HhRgFxVSjOECQGNJDa6z3cUX2IQ6n3BNyfrIj03NRZSW8JHSufNmu2mqu5S2KPqIfutm4s41wHUZrwX3w/w733-h586/2.jpg" width="733" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I look outside -- the two wanderers are missing again. Into the neighbors yard they went. I chase them out once more.</p><p>And I think -- there's got to be a better way!</p><p>I know the literature will tell you to keep them under lock in the coop for a few days until they get used to the idea that this is now home. But we've never had to do that before! And this is such a lovely day! A crime to keep them confined! </p><p>Ed is unconcerned. He has a very<i> que sera sera</i> attitude about the whole thing. Eventually, according to him, it will all straighten itself out. Well yeah, if we can avoid the predators, and if we can get them into the coop at night, and if we keep them off the road, and away from the neighbor's yard!</p><p>Who knew chicken care would be so stressful!</p><p>(<i>I'm not stressed</i> -- says Ed.)</p><p> </p><p>In the afternoon, we leave all this behind and go for a bike ride. It is the most gorgeous March day ever! Brutally windy, but we persevere! I mean, at 68f (20c) and sunny -- nothing seems impossible! Just splendid! </p><p>(Indeed, I, too, have my first Snowdrop out in the yard!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYlqlEZ33Q-Y_ASFWr5XfmjoUtGxwD4GF9EWpmw5go4n0MMybvur-VYlVB6CovjArBsUFH2f0SCeKKp-caM4K9ql36apKCoZcKDARgDFQnDVEjHNSPUGcXi5IW0IodJXQzqPIhHCqjOYDOh062KdNBc1dPKxZ-vLq20ZWPMCf2H7CYSApxOiw0w/s2764/5.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYlqlEZ33Q-Y_ASFWr5XfmjoUtGxwD4GF9EWpmw5go4n0MMybvur-VYlVB6CovjArBsUFH2f0SCeKKp-caM4K9ql36apKCoZcKDARgDFQnDVEjHNSPUGcXi5IW0IodJXQzqPIhHCqjOYDOh062KdNBc1dPKxZ-vLq20ZWPMCf2H7CYSApxOiw0w/s320/5.jpg" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Yes, shorts and short sleeves. On Ed, not on me yet!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpY_yMA7EninlBsjeyp9ho5PJuV4pTOuJmCXUDD_A2pAHS7a07hGVe6-ErmaGTyZLp2_S5MB9mMZwX7ikHllwFf3s2I7pZ6zMXTY3_NYUe9ohFsFs0lUnwGtOM9qJ-RLmqean-Ar2BKGk3jdfVGg2EaoSw7qiwUTkiPslhM4V0Ydt-MNX9R49Fg/s3495/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="763" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpY_yMA7EninlBsjeyp9ho5PJuV4pTOuJmCXUDD_A2pAHS7a07hGVe6-ErmaGTyZLp2_S5MB9mMZwX7ikHllwFf3s2I7pZ6zMXTY3_NYUe9ohFsFs0lUnwGtOM9qJ-RLmqean-Ar2BKGk3jdfVGg2EaoSw7qiwUTkiPslhM4V0Ydt-MNX9R49Fg/w644-h763/6.jpg" width="644" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(choppy waters on Lake Waubesa)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_W9MYwymUVjinOxHJpeQ43e6QcvO5HXoZFgQ98n5WSPV0r3b6lWsJsqaTRSBjZTgzsLkzveoSqIAy4yz7i4g1jiXGuesWEbKrvlkx2VqSrSCNCmuf-UlqAhhxqo1oct0G1-G8KmWqc34FPtUatgC9m0eAdIQzOxQ6JSCKxiZpHSIZtiK7Wec7PQ/s1890/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="548" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_W9MYwymUVjinOxHJpeQ43e6QcvO5HXoZFgQ98n5WSPV0r3b6lWsJsqaTRSBjZTgzsLkzveoSqIAy4yz7i4g1jiXGuesWEbKrvlkx2VqSrSCNCmuf-UlqAhhxqo1oct0G1-G8KmWqc34FPtUatgC9m0eAdIQzOxQ6JSCKxiZpHSIZtiK7Wec7PQ/w696-h548/7.jpg" width="696" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>And then I lose myself in the prep of dinner. With an occasional run outside to check on/chase after chickens.</p><p><br /></p><p>Evening sets in. The young family arrives. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMCjNiPmvC4XeSONwLJy2mTsKWjRlzFhyphenhyphenT0ElSNR4Jzi3-QlxdYXZOs3i_l5jraOk4r-s-D22u31qdKqRfkrlpIheRKG5Vk6WnbnuitXbdmWZFUKpmGA_1KXcKl_G-CpfJvqAgcXuNgwekmyTQgk19QLWWszLkoljhOd9jvTkNsmOx4FDfhKw1w/s2921/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMCjNiPmvC4XeSONwLJy2mTsKWjRlzFhyphenhyphenT0ElSNR4Jzi3-QlxdYXZOs3i_l5jraOk4r-s-D22u31qdKqRfkrlpIheRKG5Vk6WnbnuitXbdmWZFUKpmGA_1KXcKl_G-CpfJvqAgcXuNgwekmyTQgk19QLWWszLkoljhOd9jvTkNsmOx4FDfhKw1w/w679-h598/8.jpg" width="679" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(I fix dinner in the kitchen, he fixes one in the playroom.)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75h1YcBgruDo2yY01H4Yl9CjdDHu1DE6hiKEeHx5lsl5NVfd2Hz22IFceVmrUXuAF11Z0gHnQGL1cW11FvKwpFJB6HOtb_WLt7ppkGA16tlg-hj2wHS4FNmWhFDfFEcZtsjrQqTAp1cBXHwz_mMX4gHGW5kz12-piQJ8I8fxtA7o9nHBe6fARmw/s3564/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75h1YcBgruDo2yY01H4Yl9CjdDHu1DE6hiKEeHx5lsl5NVfd2Hz22IFceVmrUXuAF11Z0gHnQGL1cW11FvKwpFJB6HOtb_WLt7ppkGA16tlg-hj2wHS4FNmWhFDfFEcZtsjrQqTAp1cBXHwz_mMX4gHGW5kz12-piQJ8I8fxtA7o9nHBe6fARmw/w490-h594/9.jpg" width="490" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Time to eat. And, time to move the chickens into the coop.</p><p>Ha!</p><p>Let me just give the upshot: I got dinner on the table on time...</p><p> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatEcYk50Qe1Mliy01axlb-ZoxbdU42rcsmzbJhJQEWDxzhcoT3eLHhu4atO5oBAEFKigoR5w1k62ZIzlOm7a0fwGrAagvuL213Wmw2SMqF3tlfE0bW94_gTT8N1OJ1wvgNz8zp3Ot4cXo_VvyZhrPRrt4PK0wXlqQgtDU7GCYlo6gkdDWZMuieA/s4010/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatEcYk50Qe1Mliy01axlb-ZoxbdU42rcsmzbJhJQEWDxzhcoT3eLHhu4atO5oBAEFKigoR5w1k62ZIzlOm7a0fwGrAagvuL213Wmw2SMqF3tlfE0bW94_gTT8N1OJ1wvgNz8zp3Ot4cXo_VvyZhrPRrt4PK0wXlqQgtDU7GCYlo6gkdDWZMuieA/w780-h509/10.jpg" width="780" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>The chickens? They all scattered. All over farmette lands. </p><p>We took our flashlights and searched. And we did find them all: under trees, inside trees, in the garage, in the barn. It took two whole hours and much squawking followed, but we found them and locked them up.</p><p>One thing's for sure: <i>no one</i> is leaving the coop tomorrow! It'll be tight in there. We wont have happy chickens. But we're not playing that game again!</p><p>You have to earn your freedom, girls, you hear?!</p><p> </p><p>with love...</p><p> <br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-21141263581424758832024-03-02T20:42:00.001-06:002024-03-02T20:42:23.034-06:00Saturday<p>Ed asks -- <i>what are you going to be doing this morning?</i> I know he's busy. He has an interview at the university sailing club. He's thinking of teaching there this summer. In fact, we had practiced last night -- he gave, in my view, great answers to the expected questions! But then, I know nothing about sailing. It all sounds so complicated...</p><p>To his question this morning I say -- <i><span style="color: #800180;">I'm going to be writing.</span></i></p><p>This is where so much of my loosey goosey time goes to. [Ha! Did you hear that yesterday, the Merriam Webster people proclaimed that it is now considered acceptable to end a sentence with a preposition? When asked why the change, an expert grammarian explained -- <i>people are doing it anyway. And besides, many of the rules in proper English usage are simply made up by old fuddy duddies who wanted to distinguish themselves as some kind of authority</i>. All those years of worrying for naught!] </p><p>Ed will ask if I'm writing my next book. And I will always respond that I have so much non book writing to do that I dont have time for it right now. <br /></p><p>Of course, first thing's first. I go out to feed the animals.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdh6JljDqNKJnqvubCiglVDYMeQorgvelTpq9JWeZ_FMEnXFI-xoZyJL7cuDqaIAx1ivzFh5lvLXnKLr0ji40hyphenhyphend3QaBWT-F76MmmBw11wIhKUCT8LFLuFkOno5XhwBg4Ca93_gUUe_ZksW1Hewsq2S1XUF-0cfx5dvURzjskg9-Seb1YcMU5HA/s3748/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="746" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdh6JljDqNKJnqvubCiglVDYMeQorgvelTpq9JWeZ_FMEnXFI-xoZyJL7cuDqaIAx1ivzFh5lvLXnKLr0ji40hyphenhyphend3QaBWT-F76MmmBw11wIhKUCT8LFLuFkOno5XhwBg4Ca93_gUUe_ZksW1Hewsq2S1XUF-0cfx5dvURzjskg9-Seb1YcMU5HA/w499-h746/1.jpg" width="499" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Our two hens are about to get some coop-mates. </p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifS-l7QyNAHz-W76LRpTl-2VHPjFz92RlYdhq2-rmksHb7X-s70oLnqfl_LM226QpvmrV46W2WEIY4fP5kY5ukgQVTR9VRzx3YQXUke-CfGzMHsMcv5fjEau4ALc_886ZmIQou-YzqASOSB6UxfhU5XRN0o0xiEQCuYOvp2CqkSlg86WLWRa9jbg/s3350/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifS-l7QyNAHz-W76LRpTl-2VHPjFz92RlYdhq2-rmksHb7X-s70oLnqfl_LM226QpvmrV46W2WEIY4fP5kY5ukgQVTR9VRzx3YQXUke-CfGzMHsMcv5fjEau4ALc_886ZmIQou-YzqASOSB6UxfhU5XRN0o0xiEQCuYOvp2CqkSlg86WLWRa9jbg/w640-h562/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>We're getting four adolescent Bresse hens (called pullets) from the breeder of Bresse chickens. (He happens to live just about an hour west of us.) </p><p>I'm a little uneasy, because we haven't yet identified or dealt with the predator who keeps coming back each night, trying his damnest to get into the coop. That's not likely going to happen -- our coop is pretty secure. But if he gets bold and comes during the daylight hours when the hens are out and about, we're in trouble. And, too, the new pullets may be initially hard to coral into the coop at night. Spring time is when the predators are most active. So we're being cautious -- we're opening up the coop later than usual, but with free ranging, there's always a danger that someone will seize a hen. </p><p>Why is it that I even like raising chickens??</p><p>And so after breakfast...</p><p> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim24eGyuz2QLUH2YSKG2rVHKU7rIJI9T0cDEvzgzeDFOBVUNgxqUETEjF7RZ3GK-JgO5ob9yDtEyz8PpccdWvUv7djqJA3qJmSF9rMRKl0yZgMr20UcIQM2WBerd0Dn5wS4st3wzaY-ygNsPX1jZqCSqYtwNUtzAcwPGbjgDcGKWCjs6dDWQ5LpQ/s3801/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim24eGyuz2QLUH2YSKG2rVHKU7rIJI9T0cDEvzgzeDFOBVUNgxqUETEjF7RZ3GK-JgO5ob9yDtEyz8PpccdWvUv7djqJA3qJmSF9rMRKl0yZgMr20UcIQM2WBerd0Dn5wS4st3wzaY-ygNsPX1jZqCSqYtwNUtzAcwPGbjgDcGKWCjs6dDWQ5LpQ/w640-h486/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>... I give Ed a haircut and a beard trim and then he goes off for his interview and I fill the morning with writing. Emails, post drafts -- it all takes so much time! </p><p>And in the afternoon, we set out for Mount Horeb -- a small town to the west where there is a restaurant, <a href="https://brixcider.com">Brix Cider</a>, that appears to have an interesting menu. Our chicken farmer works there and we are curious enough to try it. </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfq-0J7F4qSZ82_FaA_f_NGtV70ZC0AWy3x0FAh1V2AFT1pfF7nvnBChDuTaduRbVntfkHB-Coo5fnhxpyxQsZWTBlwC0mTxwVRBL3Xbw2op-j8YWFR2-Kl8_1yZYSCBxlh1cR5-Kpq-iDx6-hYpHBPrSXuCI5gUjG8ha8Z4MEqXtSfKew5REXQ/s3461/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="581" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfq-0J7F4qSZ82_FaA_f_NGtV70ZC0AWy3x0FAh1V2AFT1pfF7nvnBChDuTaduRbVntfkHB-Coo5fnhxpyxQsZWTBlwC0mTxwVRBL3Xbw2op-j8YWFR2-Kl8_1yZYSCBxlh1cR5-Kpq-iDx6-hYpHBPrSXuCI5gUjG8ha8Z4MEqXtSfKew5REXQ/w715-h581/4.jpg" width="715" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>But we don't stay. We buy take out mushroom sandwiches (locally sourced!) for later. We are on a mission! <br /></p><p>Our next stop is the New Glarus Woods State Park, where we hike a gorgeous loop. Well, it's just a regular forested path really, but today any hike loop is going to be stunning. The weather just makes you want to sing! -- mostly sunny, warm, spring like! </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSm2NANH-YuZioR8T24tl8yqRzbrFV98ci8EdXS2u58KQ429Qtt_6c-Gg692p0mgMFTwc1trLdJ6EX35-_xPsb_SIaf2aBSitng-fwFUC4z9b18bXsI5PSBH35opXGJV-yMFdtps6zWVsFpMjTiRQpFTFHohdbcSROSO3QF5TaENB8LbiTcKLEYQ/s2403/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="705" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSm2NANH-YuZioR8T24tl8yqRzbrFV98ci8EdXS2u58KQ429Qtt_6c-Gg692p0mgMFTwc1trLdJ6EX35-_xPsb_SIaf2aBSitng-fwFUC4z9b18bXsI5PSBH35opXGJV-yMFdtps6zWVsFpMjTiRQpFTFHohdbcSROSO3QF5TaENB8LbiTcKLEYQ/w575-h705/5.jpg" width="575" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And from there it's a ten minute drive to our Bresse chicken guy. From this bunch he'll select for us our next generation Bresse hens.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pAJPGB49CBCG9d-R-xbp5vcTKhvQv4nT1ppex6m5BNzfL9RsRQwGBMGKYb25UKlpysNNjFsXYePUTSuTNrOFitKgUA5dlCNIuk9N5d4EcshCQlN5eayLE01pkyOPutGTKT-JWlomqpMSDykhQ5g9R4FD7iHJw6LBJY0OOTjKuMUAPmDmVVW_WA/s2017/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pAJPGB49CBCG9d-R-xbp5vcTKhvQv4nT1ppex6m5BNzfL9RsRQwGBMGKYb25UKlpysNNjFsXYePUTSuTNrOFitKgUA5dlCNIuk9N5d4EcshCQlN5eayLE01pkyOPutGTKT-JWlomqpMSDykhQ5g9R4FD7iHJw6LBJY0OOTjKuMUAPmDmVVW_WA/w640-h622/6.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>We pick up three pullets and one freshly grown girl (she's a year younger than our two back home, and the others will be two years younger). And we bring them home. Along with a handful of tags that we will use to distinguish them all: the three year olds, the two year old and the babes that are just nearing one.<br /></p><p>Here's where the excitement begins. Full swing. We pull into the farmette driveway. We take the pet carriers loaded with hens into the barn. It's dusk. Ed puts away our two old girls (they now have bandettes on their legs! The old girls are "Number 9" and "Number 11!"). But in reaching into the animal carrier to get one of the pullets, Ed missed her entirely (they are carzy wigglers!) and she manages to escape. Out onto the farmette lands. Totally unfamiliar terrain, without boundaries, barriers or fences. </p><p>There is no way we are going to be able to catch her. Indeed, she flies in the direction of the road to the south, then, chased away from it, she flies in the direction of the wetlands to the north, then, under trees, into fields and each time I get closer, she flaps madly and scoots in the opposite direction.</p><p>We can't leave her out in the wild. She'd be a sitting duck for every animal that comes this way in search of chicken meat. </p><p>Eventually, I decide that our brains are still that much larger than a chicken's brain. We'll outsmart her! Yes we can!</p><p>And we do. We coral her back toward the barn and in fright, she goes inside, where she settles along the wall, exhausted. It takes us several tries, but eventually Ed, with his enormous hands and long arms, is able to grab her from behind. </p><p>We are jubilant!</p><p>The rest of the hens are transferred without issue. For tonight, they're all snuggled together in the coop. Six Bresse hens! Tomorrow, the fighting will start, and a new pecking order will be set, but hey, that's peanuts compared to tonight's chase!<br /></p><p><br /></p><p>At the farmhouse, we eat our take-out sandwiches and exhale. Four new chickens, safely bedded down with the two old ones. With beautiful weather all weekend long. We're feeling mighty lucky here, in our small corner of south-central Wisconsin.<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-78856569921687844112024-03-01T20:45:00.000-06:002024-03-01T20:45:35.417-06:00March<p>Each year it's the same: March comes, the excitement mounts. Projects line up like children in a cafeteria, waiting for their turn. Dig holes for soon to arrive persimmon trees. Put up a strawberry growing station (a new idea, spun just today!). Clear the flower fields of last year's growth. And take note of all that's breaking ground right about now.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRm8v8PF0TnPxhkjxn7Rlm4AwZoQPfDaYa3u487uIJBNTXSY-c7xKDbs6K6NgqMgcfPXtpKKqCybX1ybZSk6FTvqqL8rZmu89G0NmWCBUOwGWKjUSNv9BrXzcBGeNng3u-kForEHW2lB-QvtcF5iqqnOWZQB1-nUx_H9297uu8uR0e6NrGJAt0Ow/s2519/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRm8v8PF0TnPxhkjxn7Rlm4AwZoQPfDaYa3u487uIJBNTXSY-c7xKDbs6K6NgqMgcfPXtpKKqCybX1ybZSk6FTvqqL8rZmu89G0NmWCBUOwGWKjUSNv9BrXzcBGeNng3u-kForEHW2lB-QvtcF5iqqnOWZQB1-nUx_H9297uu8uR0e6NrGJAt0Ow/w436-h385/5.jpg" width="436" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Yes, early!<br /></p><p>By the date of my birthday (third week of April), all has to be ready and the bulk of the planting for the year begins in earnest. Perennials and annuals. All of it. It takes about a month to get it in the ground or in the pots. By late May I'm on the finishing touches. </p><p>Meanwhile, Ed will have started his tomatoes and melons and artichokes this year. I'll help with the seeding, but it's mainly his responsibility to get things going in those reused and half disintegrated Dixie cups. Deadline for this? Late March.<br /></p><p>There is so much to do in early spring that I sometimes wonder why I love this season at all. It's all work and no play. With the exception of perhaps a quick trip to Chicago, when April rolls around, I am up to my neck in dirt. </p><p>(I feel a little tired just thinking about all that I want to do this year!)</p><p>So, it's March. </p><p>Typically the weather in March is... disappointing, to put it kindly. You're hungry for spring, you get more of winter. But this year is about as a-typical as they come, so we start off with reasonable temperatures (a high of 50f/10c) and plenty of sunshine.</p><p>The chickens are happy, if a little bit lonely (I'm guessing here).</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWUUpXnT_58HOFL0a9JBnhjDr7JLJ2zVpaUz0EP96D9D8EKXaIK4JWuXCZavOFm0SZ-wFwsW_cqhHC_VkyRfOqV66rsmfGU82zeM8PFFBIEdV6YKAcLm6PBr_rbaF1Sg7yaaSEte-nKXB3hE8dLL2d87UVSDt2ogzVbItV23MxDDSvgq2EKAbbw/s3761/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="773" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWUUpXnT_58HOFL0a9JBnhjDr7JLJ2zVpaUz0EP96D9D8EKXaIK4JWuXCZavOFm0SZ-wFwsW_cqhHC_VkyRfOqV66rsmfGU82zeM8PFFBIEdV6YKAcLm6PBr_rbaF1Sg7yaaSEte-nKXB3hE8dLL2d87UVSDt2ogzVbItV23MxDDSvgq2EKAbbw/w577-h773/1.jpg" width="577" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Breakfast, with Ed. And the two cats. I ask him --<i><span style="color: #800180;"> did you sit down at the table when I was gone, just because the cats like to "have breakfast with us?"</span></i> His answer -- <i>yes.</i></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQavcDWl6n06PQnRtIkQ1vRD6y_oC66vhJ6qXw7i5IPaAa_Wq-6xqF-urdvhx2ReiqST_gk1JPUIikObwQsQSPmtN06LNOdpyEAcMVKnxyCBmUyr5s-U9Mk7iVUc-4n_WqB6nDNW2Zu4Oy78vRiilq7ksHRJs5t2_A4yEUBe2YD2XnkfCb9D0rBQ/s3469/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQavcDWl6n06PQnRtIkQ1vRD6y_oC66vhJ6qXw7i5IPaAa_Wq-6xqF-urdvhx2ReiqST_gk1JPUIikObwQsQSPmtN06LNOdpyEAcMVKnxyCBmUyr5s-U9Mk7iVUc-4n_WqB6nDNW2Zu4Oy78vRiilq7ksHRJs5t2_A4yEUBe2YD2XnkfCb9D0rBQ/w640-h484/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Because it's such a lovely day, we go out early for a hike. Today we return to the DNR lands that are maybe two miles south east of the farmette. There's a beautiful trail running through them and there is never anyone on it!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcBJU_6-I9ffQUP1P28hico_UTxBvvfEV3099_Urp_GjKnG94ETAVcsMvpqbnN0qgE7bBRDT_ilvNxZR9BUqh-usOvz0BpUFdG-9IS1sPDL8Lc83YGMqG8Nl4d8ILq9wTVnF_MvG_nKwkYB7IrNnqisFoKNcqHjQgw0bbpuIVDo8CXRz3dD9NUQ/s3932/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcBJU_6-I9ffQUP1P28hico_UTxBvvfEV3099_Urp_GjKnG94ETAVcsMvpqbnN0qgE7bBRDT_ilvNxZR9BUqh-usOvz0BpUFdG-9IS1sPDL8Lc83YGMqG8Nl4d8ILq9wTVnF_MvG_nKwkYB7IrNnqisFoKNcqHjQgw0bbpuIVDo8CXRz3dD9NUQ/w711-h500/4.jpg" width="711" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>It's slightly hilly, so every once in a while, you pause and take in the view.<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3rs5ZbUp8AfDQ04lM5mgSviXMnxGTe6_WzypcwY7etHYil2af-oB1KyVfIaWOTm9tbXs57X6L8-jEfNUYT93BxEr_DJRu0WwIvrHvuENnrqw1TqbMEBpaaSd_qiKzEOEBgAaoZs6Zu24GP_HLUn4_tdPFQzX4OLXTyMHE6H79OO_TLRZdhHz3A/s3500/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3rs5ZbUp8AfDQ04lM5mgSviXMnxGTe6_WzypcwY7etHYil2af-oB1KyVfIaWOTm9tbXs57X6L8-jEfNUYT93BxEr_DJRu0WwIvrHvuENnrqw1TqbMEBpaaSd_qiKzEOEBgAaoZs6Zu24GP_HLUn4_tdPFQzX4OLXTyMHE6H79OO_TLRZdhHz3A/w701-h526/3.jpg" width="701" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Such luck to live by so many walkable paths and trails, given that we are a country where access to the rural lands is in general greatly restricted. (We have no "right to roam" here. That's a European thing.)</p><p> </p><p>And now it's time to pick up the kids. What? Pajama day<i> again</i>??<br /></p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LJ39GnOs0Lnnt6QZZF0aX0j9OPoqFMw5jDuXkeRNmFTdW351wYL4cyiqEPOrxO_R_bceOoQLtttrGxncfWDNVWATZtUUC49kwLGBWrwULVCHcH0rnqiLLCbPzDiQgFngCIGAMX9rGt5TAVM7RgOcR2J6mbT5t_Iebvo8IIGw7rafxLk6QA4IYw/s3256/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LJ39GnOs0Lnnt6QZZF0aX0j9OPoqFMw5jDuXkeRNmFTdW351wYL4cyiqEPOrxO_R_bceOoQLtttrGxncfWDNVWATZtUUC49kwLGBWrwULVCHcH0rnqiLLCbPzDiQgFngCIGAMX9rGt5TAVM7RgOcR2J6mbT5t_Iebvo8IIGw7rafxLk6QA4IYw/w540-h640/6.jpg" width="540" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>Oh, but what's this? Snowdrop's expression is just so unusual...<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GmsUq-tK8BREPAfnvOtu3ovIM3zTDw7fOaiVvmSZMRg5sz90lS30eKOIt-85cbuVPRUgYxtxBz14eLAI-p_G4aQ1EV-cKdCXyMLmE7xGKzcPQSW2Gqboub1YR2r6JbRZLtWJdckncDLTcCT2Z1RpvGxi-35lJpyn8lrQEVYg2sAznHy6jNe5Yg/s3774/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="839" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GmsUq-tK8BREPAfnvOtu3ovIM3zTDw7fOaiVvmSZMRg5sz90lS30eKOIt-85cbuVPRUgYxtxBz14eLAI-p_G4aQ1EV-cKdCXyMLmE7xGKzcPQSW2Gqboub1YR2r6JbRZLtWJdckncDLTcCT2Z1RpvGxi-35lJpyn8lrQEVYg2sAznHy6jNe5Yg/w540-h839/7.jpg" width="540" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Very quickly she lets her sadness spill out. She'd just found out that her best classroom friend is leaving. For good. Out of town. This weekend.</p><p>Oh, does that feel close to home! People are always leaving, in this mobile society of ours. And of course, I left too, leaving behind friends who were once as close as family to me. How to maintain friendship at a distance? Surely I've had way too much experience here. Nearly all my best friends have moved away. And one, who is truly an ancient bestie, lives an ocean away. How do you handle such distance? </p><p>I tell Snowdrop that you can go for a period of time with little contact... (Sparrow pipes up from the back seat here -- <i>what's contact? </i>-- he asks. Such a good question. I talk about contact.) And then, you can send a card, and your friend responds, and before you know it, you're zooming and writing and visiting and the distance, though posing challenges, does not stand in the way of perfect friendship.</p><p>Was she reassured? Maybe temporarily. Playing games with Ed distracts her.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyROhgVkmWfn90b87Ie5hedSqeE3ibZffvFqpcJPaA0ScsST_-4Ng6GJzeGO1WtbuDJCJU6S0Svee4tXPk6-g4wEfd8rgOWXfdH2TaB1nNDDnz7jdYTbCyIxFK4hiZAAlzDV9s46ZPZN0GHkz70O_FGa9ztur5_iul4LijndbSTDYep8RJmapU1g/s3556/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyROhgVkmWfn90b87Ie5hedSqeE3ibZffvFqpcJPaA0ScsST_-4Ng6GJzeGO1WtbuDJCJU6S0Svee4tXPk6-g4wEfd8rgOWXfdH2TaB1nNDDnz7jdYTbCyIxFK4hiZAAlzDV9s46ZPZN0GHkz70O_FGa9ztur5_iul4LijndbSTDYep8RJmapU1g/w676-h522/8.jpg" width="676" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>But eventually she comes back to it. And I cannot deny that the next weeks in school will be hard for her. <br /></p><p> </p><p>Friday with the kids is crazy day of course. Eat, read, play -- but not too long because there's violin for Sparrow and dance for Snowdrop. </p><p>A big exhale for me when each kid is at his or her proper lesson on time.</p><p><br /></p><p>And now comes evening. My head is still full of spring ideas. Now is the time to make a Negroni Sbagliato (prosecco instead of gin). And unwind. On the couch. With Ed.</p><p>with love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-17991617651706059092024-02-29T20:23:00.001-06:002024-03-01T09:02:27.464-06:00Leap forward into a familiar routine<p>Aren't you supposed to do something unusual on this unusual day in our calendar year? I heard on the radio (on my drive to the bakery) that some people put things in a time capsule on this day. To be read at a later February 29th. I suppose to a person who blogs daily, a time capsule seems very irrelevant. I have an ongoing time capsule. Most of which I will never reopen, but so what. I keep on stuffing it with details every day regardless.</p><p>Did you catch those words? "Driving to the bakery." I am back to that. First, though, there was the walk to the barn. A first one for me since I've been back. And a sad reminder that we only have two Bresse hens left. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaj_OSsZDVOEKaYDWHIT5UwT8pi37HhZ3_OQwOPxUZyd2oQJbdByxM6XohcoknmynNheNoGfGSRxvTY978nGyj1CC544IcQdGnLehySeSUysnlPTjwkdIlhhvQC7qOeXiEz2pMJS6Pfp1sDfjVR0accM6_Vsi1afPDQow9wDjLFp8Hi6u0TNOLIw/s3178/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaj_OSsZDVOEKaYDWHIT5UwT8pi37HhZ3_OQwOPxUZyd2oQJbdByxM6XohcoknmynNheNoGfGSRxvTY978nGyj1CC544IcQdGnLehySeSUysnlPTjwkdIlhhvQC7qOeXiEz2pMJS6Pfp1sDfjVR0accM6_Vsi1afPDQow9wDjLFp8Hi6u0TNOLIw/w640-h518/1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>As I poured out less food than usual into their feeding dish, I thought about the three that we lost. Unie and two Bresse nameless ones. The trauma remains. Each evening, only one of them now goes into the coop. The second one hightails it to the garage and flies up to the rafters to rest there for the night. We have to climb a ladder to get her down (and into the coop, under lock). Last night, Ed was late coming back from his machining work so I did it for him and even standing on the top rung of the ladder I could hardly reach her. Ed has noted that that chicken is going to kill us in the end, in our attempt to keep her safe.</p><p>Well, there wont be "just two Bresse girls" for long. We're getting more chickens this weekend. More on that later.</p><p>And yes, I then did drive to the bakery. Madison Sourdough. I needed cookies for Sparrow. (He just loves their cookies and only their cookies! Him and Ed! Must be a guy thing.) The bakery itself felt heavenly! The smell, the presence of all those warm breads and croissants..</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBwQmHlpvaR5BI3inN4m8nN000MjK8-k_x2L7rHucPatB4CrL1slg201FMwSIstFhjy7e8EcefpUPUSS5jQPBrybEBdI93KsxUasIN3Cjg4Pj0UpCA1FAnK3zyPOgz7J_VBUf4fTfIkvT7DQKZFUKHZGk0a2hy-clp7DFnCU6Z4CYK2SsMF9odg/s4017/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBwQmHlpvaR5BI3inN4m8nN000MjK8-k_x2L7rHucPatB4CrL1slg201FMwSIstFhjy7e8EcefpUPUSS5jQPBrybEBdI93KsxUasIN3Cjg4Pj0UpCA1FAnK3zyPOgz7J_VBUf4fTfIkvT7DQKZFUKHZGk0a2hy-clp7DFnCU6Z4CYK2SsMF9odg/w640-h440/2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Here's a fact: those croissants are actually better than most that I have for breakfast in Europe. Why? Because nearly every hotel now serves mini croissants for breakfast, replacing the traditional full sized ones we get at bakeries. Mini croissants may be excellent, but they aren't the real thing. You dont have enough of that soft center to satisfy your croissant craving. So, good, but not great. Whereas Madison Sourdough croissants are the full blown wonderful heavenly breakfast treat. With a milky coffee -- nothing is better.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBMJDLk8EVVLnwbZJ2m-ZowVtMzI5UD_Jsx54h1rOKwiUdzXODvy1XUJ4aSrK02nVVcp6GWLHJZy0oo8s_RZdUhGoKmmI2vAOUYi1Lf760pyzKwCRnrPySYeECdKaRRGTnblmnzdwhJHUoXjnKQWXaBJBgAGgi8F9bJCY6OwU24CjAHJPebtL0Yg/s3360/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBMJDLk8EVVLnwbZJ2m-ZowVtMzI5UD_Jsx54h1rOKwiUdzXODvy1XUJ4aSrK02nVVcp6GWLHJZy0oo8s_RZdUhGoKmmI2vAOUYi1Lf760pyzKwCRnrPySYeECdKaRRGTnblmnzdwhJHUoXjnKQWXaBJBgAGgi8F9bJCY6OwU24CjAHJPebtL0Yg/w640-h434/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Notice the flowers on the table. I picked up several bunches at the grocery store yesterday. Spring is my favorite time to buy grocery store flowers. Daffodils, tulips, hyacinths. They're beautiful and fresh and of course, the markers of this next season.</p><p>And speaking of that next season, we are so close to it now! We have had a crummy snow-less winter (too warm, too dry), but we are to have a warm March and that forecast starts today! Yesterday's Arctic blast? A thing of the past. We're climbing the temperature charts once again. It's still windy and that brings a bit of a chill with it, but it's also sunny and just so very lovely. We seize the opportunity! <br /></p><p>(I swear he wears shorts year round...)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdt_jD2tyGBmcNEtc3_o9YyLMompZ1vuOULUHtZKl9BZqWK5BfS6utIsNgK5EXaMS6Uj1_hTfLjJks1wQV9CS5ffwRDSjsK7TFP2cvem_kYTn-2RvGtutQezDTcuvW88KzH5u8A43KvHXo4U_KOFhHE-0mOxdwd0a2QygBZD9aBMMYG4aBoFh6AA/s3898/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdt_jD2tyGBmcNEtc3_o9YyLMompZ1vuOULUHtZKl9BZqWK5BfS6utIsNgK5EXaMS6Uj1_hTfLjJks1wQV9CS5ffwRDSjsK7TFP2cvem_kYTn-2RvGtutQezDTcuvW88KzH5u8A43KvHXo4U_KOFhHE-0mOxdwd0a2QygBZD9aBMMYG4aBoFh6AA/w484-h640/4.jpg" width="484" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Lake Waubesa has a thin layer of ice in one small portion of it. Our bigger lakes have no ice at all. In February! Weird.)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKg0-pqtF0U3LLmgwGrC7UabgmsxLDYojqZzvSiHU3oxBnm38qcTtweKwRXafHo5sQsPhHgBTVEuv5QLnM5P_UsCg49Ylk1FV6MqdICo4vWQf-qRx9oGqGx7Q3JyUxNRX0Fh_Bj-CMNRWGnGiKEmLIAXUqatGNekTVVjKOKkhZHlCa5wBke5uYWw/s3189/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="656" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKg0-pqtF0U3LLmgwGrC7UabgmsxLDYojqZzvSiHU3oxBnm38qcTtweKwRXafHo5sQsPhHgBTVEuv5QLnM5P_UsCg49Ylk1FV6MqdICo4vWQf-qRx9oGqGx7Q3JyUxNRX0Fh_Bj-CMNRWGnGiKEmLIAXUqatGNekTVVjKOKkhZHlCa5wBke5uYWw/w736-h656/6.jpg" width="736" /></a><br /> </p><p><br /></p><p>And look who is back with their beautiful piercing cries!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8jfr4fmtZqp1W1GrfoSUm6h-NAkmFiSHqWykfwkgcvj-GqJMe5K9UctHD1YrKTe7tusOAm9CryNDo6m8WoWnnHOijtvUQlLFnD2hNowF0P9QMi6IZn5f_HOGU0Pq4BqiQwC1zSHtn8E4pGJ13Qjb_fwkmqbEAenzQTGKdtc_JiGKvKMUNC_8vw/s2616/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8jfr4fmtZqp1W1GrfoSUm6h-NAkmFiSHqWykfwkgcvj-GqJMe5K9UctHD1YrKTe7tusOAm9CryNDo6m8WoWnnHOijtvUQlLFnD2hNowF0P9QMi6IZn5f_HOGU0Pq4BqiQwC1zSHtn8E4pGJ13Qjb_fwkmqbEAenzQTGKdtc_JiGKvKMUNC_8vw/w640-h536/5.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>In the afternoon, I'm once more in line to pick up the kids after school. This is what exuberance looks like!</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH20vG1N1hEPzMIlPElxNCxrRFYLY5_I22ge4TDCcj5KNbMwxUAc2gf8SnvQ6oh9sTQfEocHeNCNoS2vtr3GY6OCGdh0LKCzD-H-5E0hX88rD5CXd8LLwJPd0FKV12pcN2PitzAa4fHL3mJ1g9NH6sX0lXToTnla1hFlgn169iTIea-RSTDLxFBA/s2050/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH20vG1N1hEPzMIlPElxNCxrRFYLY5_I22ge4TDCcj5KNbMwxUAc2gf8SnvQ6oh9sTQfEocHeNCNoS2vtr3GY6OCGdh0LKCzD-H-5E0hX88rD5CXd8LLwJPd0FKV12pcN2PitzAa4fHL3mJ1g9NH6sX0lXToTnla1hFlgn169iTIea-RSTDLxFBA/w562-h640/7.jpg" width="562" /></a><br /> </p><p>(Sparrow, as always, wants his own closeup)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQP_j2LcUbC49yLQNqvdJNU9gAdQCyfUAc3YCtUnCII4oOzC7D5SVaIDjjp53RgE1YLa0eihp-SY9kIhuX94nDLjeZDDECA7xRaxZnczGPzT0LEVI0mtV9Ajd0sKYwLUiSxgBz4VG7Ey-b8rjVvBAPRt15LnZov9UsC_1uP-D3_o1lG-bEHXVyw/s1646/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQP_j2LcUbC49yLQNqvdJNU9gAdQCyfUAc3YCtUnCII4oOzC7D5SVaIDjjp53RgE1YLa0eihp-SY9kIhuX94nDLjeZDDECA7xRaxZnczGPzT0LEVI0mtV9Ajd0sKYwLUiSxgBz4VG7Ey-b8rjVvBAPRt15LnZov9UsC_1uP-D3_o1lG-bEHXVyw/w559-h449/9.jpg" width="559" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Nothing like a break from routine to get them so very excited to be back here again!</p><p>It's a bit out of the ordinary for me to also pick up their little brother later in the day. Ah, the trio of bandits!And a field of blooming snowdrops!<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUt-V7cAss7C3qyYIte-PDrPeKLsv-uIq0L2LUS75SF-yTByBTKJIdePXqa88VTiuJ6mCLyaD48Iuiot_BUJDbtmVIv7CybBPs495MjiyJ5dx_ErGOj7VdB4bnAovW3Lex8yA9zBwy47TX3ws3rIyKLygcp6XWE-xn6FOo2UsgGBQV9PdbvO7y_Q/s3607/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUt-V7cAss7C3qyYIte-PDrPeKLsv-uIq0L2LUS75SF-yTByBTKJIdePXqa88VTiuJ6mCLyaD48Iuiot_BUJDbtmVIv7CybBPs495MjiyJ5dx_ErGOj7VdB4bnAovW3Lex8yA9zBwy47TX3ws3rIyKLygcp6XWE-xn6FOo2UsgGBQV9PdbvO7y_Q/w709-h594/10.jpg" width="709" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I take them home and return to a pack of deer on farmette lands.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fGECFZfC8nvYEUM1zkofbJbF-h8UueUaz5ChHhl8nVzRzfHzeplgViQSLZ89rU4qrO848H1e3ItIY1fmRbi6cSl_TQn6D00ZRHjCSWK3cLeMyQqW4CrFGnbQe3nfqdwaIuERbK8Lc3V3H1SbenliwHZjUAQGA-y7fh_kkQJuLGixvPbGG3ig5Q/s1850/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="620" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3fGECFZfC8nvYEUM1zkofbJbF-h8UueUaz5ChHhl8nVzRzfHzeplgViQSLZ89rU4qrO848H1e3ItIY1fmRbi6cSl_TQn6D00ZRHjCSWK3cLeMyQqW4CrFGnbQe3nfqdwaIuERbK8Lc3V3H1SbenliwHZjUAQGA-y7fh_kkQJuLGixvPbGG3ig5Q/w743-h620/11.jpg" width="743" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Well, okay, but please stick with the old growth. Leave any new plants alone! (I don't think the deer are especially listening to me...)</p><p><br /></p><p>And now it's time to reheat that soup and turn on a new show we discovered on my soon to expire Netflix account: Loudermilk. Maybe it's that we are so ready to laugh, maybe it just hit us at the right moment, but we both thought it was witty and therefore very funny. </p><p>Ending February with a chuckle is always a good way to proceed.</p><p>with love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-21937441420043704162024-02-28T20:28:00.000-06:002024-02-28T20:28:53.009-06:00International Day<p>This is why I changed my flights for an earlier return: to be back for International Day at the older two kids' school today. </p><p>It happens only once every two years and we got notice just last month that they picked February 28th for it. Today. Snowdrop had begged for me to take part and Sparrow joined in the chorus: do Poland!</p><p>The school asks families to volunteer. You get a table (or two), and you display the country of your ancestry to the school community. Putting something interesting together is a huge commitment and it's no surprise that out of their school of several hundred students, only fourteen parents and two grandparents volunteered to do it. One of those grandparents was me. Poland will be presented, or else! -- I said this to myself even as I realized that the work for it would have to be done within that brief period of time when I found out the date (when I was in Chamonix) and when I left to meet up with my friends in Italy. If you were an <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ocean</span></b> reader then, you will have noticed that I spent days on this -- acquiring poster boards, books, thinking up fun facts, harassing my Polish friends to supply me with some postcards of the Warsaw mermaid, days upon days! </p><p>I was, in fact, ready, though I did have to miss the set up window yesterday early evening. I was still flying home then. My set up at the school would have to be this morning, which is a chore only because it is darn freezing this morning (think: 13f or -11c), and the presentations will be starting promptly at 8 a.m. I had to get there before the school even opened for business, so that I could unload the car and put up all my Polish loot.</p><p>So, up by 5, waiting in the Starbucks line for a mighty strong brew at 6, and at the school doors, unloading at 6:55. Actually I was there earlier, but no one else was, so I sat in the car sipping coffee and thinking how nice and warm the bed had been this morning.</p><p> </p><p>The kids came by grades, forty minutes for each grade. 2nd, 1st, K, 3rd, and finally 4th. They were divided into small groups of 4 or 5 and volunteer parents or teachers lead them from one table to the next, where they would spend a few minutes admiring your country and listening to you do your spiel. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlGojBcVIedpnMtceYdMrnQpslZiWJ16NviGNWo4pxra0nqEWkEabk1C4Qzrc9XeMgZP6-sT5-NfpGgRfk7oyWG5pe9BCb0ebLWFzFibEuwjfaFQNpudoc-23DVZLRlyGWGXRZtLgcoObMVCKukitiDpw3TkCmmhhmkotJ86HB5MDbpFnaHXN5og/s4416/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="431" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlGojBcVIedpnMtceYdMrnQpslZiWJ16NviGNWo4pxra0nqEWkEabk1C4Qzrc9XeMgZP6-sT5-NfpGgRfk7oyWG5pe9BCb0ebLWFzFibEuwjfaFQNpudoc-23DVZLRlyGWGXRZtLgcoObMVCKukitiDpw3TkCmmhhmkotJ86HB5MDbpFnaHXN5og/w714-h431/11.jpg" width="714" /></a><br /> </p><p>Effectively, that meant I had to do a presentation some ten times for each grade, or a total of 50 times. Enthusiastically. </p><p>(Sparrow, coming to listen!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sFyDAzij74rAm7WC-W_2GaShVpIVkAkiG9D_fUVR9Pu4cx4Q7kvbCnmwee76ShXNJuhNTUt3HjCwH1lveWkx8hlRvUipR2_wau6F44yfwSUB4SU0glH6gph6TLmM_Adfw14oGVs3PiD_01_8RfyuP6I7GhA6BqUVu2Lnyy55Fl4ClXTcFz5m6g/s2643/12.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sFyDAzij74rAm7WC-W_2GaShVpIVkAkiG9D_fUVR9Pu4cx4Q7kvbCnmwee76ShXNJuhNTUt3HjCwH1lveWkx8hlRvUipR2_wau6F44yfwSUB4SU0glH6gph6TLmM_Adfw14oGVs3PiD_01_8RfyuP6I7GhA6BqUVu2Lnyy55Fl4ClXTcFz5m6g/w336-h640/12.jpg" width="336" /></a><p><br /></p><p>The day passed for me in a blur. I was so hyped for this that I ran on triple overdrive (and triple strength Starbucks!). I put all my energies into this.<i> All my energies.</i> I did everything but dance and sing. By the time the (more sophisticated) 3rd and 4th graders came around, I added jokes and zingers. </p><p><br /></p><p>(Snowdrop, with her Polish gaga!)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFL8247n_bHcWP0y3jb9uxuSuyPon2Lj422fN59FDV5oa3rsLBV1C5_GqeSCMY52n6mnWqKFQMQFZVIDMR2Fapbf9-Pdp_iKjLY-iV18UTu3aTZsxXeB3lgM8CmcrdImC6pc0IY8PEqLXlbQGGoh_WFDtuIzec15C5er7-grJlIjLWbh5dIj-dGg/s2069/13.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFL8247n_bHcWP0y3jb9uxuSuyPon2Lj422fN59FDV5oa3rsLBV1C5_GqeSCMY52n6mnWqKFQMQFZVIDMR2Fapbf9-Pdp_iKjLY-iV18UTu3aTZsxXeB3lgM8CmcrdImC6pc0IY8PEqLXlbQGGoh_WFDtuIzec15C5er7-grJlIjLWbh5dIj-dGg/w474-h640/13.jpg" width="474" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>In retrospect, I think I felt like I was on a voyage into my past. I was, prior to retirement, a teacher, of course, and teaching large classes was a bit of a performance. A more serious one, to be sure, than, say, drawing "talking pierogi" on a board and imitating different voices for the mushroom stuffed one and for the one with blueberries, but still, the goal is the same -- to get them to listen, to be engaged, and to walk away with a new perspective on the world. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_PsgC86V8cJreyh4GMEQUIiE0tBF7g_uPFt5vYatiiQtlLupz6GWpYGtKeIJceEBj2TpaaJ94AZLl_N4MwdLX5t3KDyTlQvo0huvX8EGX6CWZ3aq_1hbaOXvrtffqbZl0Fio1CpDvdMQcwPUHN1KUsl329aaF4OGojszhqjwrDxfAVFn146B9A/s4325/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_PsgC86V8cJreyh4GMEQUIiE0tBF7g_uPFt5vYatiiQtlLupz6GWpYGtKeIJceEBj2TpaaJ94AZLl_N4MwdLX5t3KDyTlQvo0huvX8EGX6CWZ3aq_1hbaOXvrtffqbZl0Fio1CpDvdMQcwPUHN1KUsl329aaF4OGojszhqjwrDxfAVFn146B9A/w706-h448/10.jpg" width="706" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Done! Packing it all up now, in a sleep-deprived daze!</p><p><br /></p><p>From there, to the grocery store, where I spent a very relaxing hour grocery shopping. Only I must have put some foods into someone else's cart, because I came home without two packs of chicken and I swear I had carefully selected two such packs from the grocery shelf. </p><p><br /></p><p>Lunch? Or was it breakfast? Finally, at 3 p.m., once I unpacked. I had coffee and a leftover cookie from my last restaurant in Florence.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTGXKioT0fXqhWMddk3pG69Uusz269N38-2BuYU641TvTk3eqEpAr5lorv3-3OhQdaA0zoiW194obEooRHJBRx4dFcZwS9eOEIWrtthmIcHSH0Hj09Sz12wduZ1diBxegxpgPVMYjpiyTuvzJQsH062eXwxOp-sMWnDo_fQP_SA_vsCYWuxfAVg/s3965/15.jpg"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTGXKioT0fXqhWMddk3pG69Uusz269N38-2BuYU641TvTk3eqEpAr5lorv3-3OhQdaA0zoiW194obEooRHJBRx4dFcZwS9eOEIWrtthmIcHSH0Hj09Sz12wduZ1diBxegxpgPVMYjpiyTuvzJQsH062eXwxOp-sMWnDo_fQP_SA_vsCYWuxfAVg/w329-h460/15.jpg" width="329" /></a><p><br /></p><p>It was one heck of a day.</p><p>In the evening I made soup. I just need a big pot of soup for this week. And some evenings on the couch, dozing off, with Ed.</p><p>And so much love...<br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-28878601410691845762024-02-27T18:48:00.003-06:002024-02-27T18:48:56.733-06:00leaving Italy<p>Good morning. Yawn... Let's see how much of Florence is awake at a quarter to four in the morning:</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSI83xkAsRRLVbx7WhO0Y88W-jpytk90wRU904gYqiE66Y6ch0qus3WRBSj9SfmTOK-8KTMPcsHCzQF-tuQqahGUKbHCO1GzTYxmes5bftKWvl_jfIjaD0OKYCOkB0W9dFQ73K9V8fO4GKUcraCnHhqkTCbb8bjg0MGN5CctQFjmBrjDP1ypJ1BQ/s4416/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="479" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSI83xkAsRRLVbx7WhO0Y88W-jpytk90wRU904gYqiE66Y6ch0qus3WRBSj9SfmTOK-8KTMPcsHCzQF-tuQqahGUKbHCO1GzTYxmes5bftKWvl_jfIjaD0OKYCOkB0W9dFQ73K9V8fO4GKUcraCnHhqkTCbb8bjg0MGN5CctQFjmBrjDP1ypJ1BQ/w719-h479/1.jpg" width="719" /></a><br /> <br /></p><p>Not very much. No surprise. </p><p>Shower, zip up suitcase, go downstairs. The hotel wanted to pack me a boxed breakfast. I passed. And even as I leave I notice the smiles of the staff, the kind gestures, the good words. <i>Arrivederci</i> of course means until we meet again. The question for me is not when I'll be back, but will I be back. For the first time in leaving Florence, I have to say -- I don't know. It's my second favorite European city! Normally I would say -- of course I'll be back! I always return to the places I love!</p><p>And yet...</p><p>Bee and I watched an old woman navigate the Tivoli Villa d'Este Gardens. She was pushing an oxygen supply. Walking slowly. Was she a traveler? I doubt it. I'm guessing a local, knowing how to navigate the hilly terrain. At some point, the burdens of going great distances are just too great. So how many years of travel do I have left? You can never tell when your lungs, your heart, your health in general will just put the brakes on it all and I will have had my last trip to Florence. To Europe even. Some are lucky enough to continue into the really ancient years. Others not so much.</p><p>So how many more visits to Florence do I have in me still? The great mysteries of life!</p><p><br /></p><p>The taxi ride is super short. The driver tells me how nice it is to do it in the early hours. <i>Later, with the rain</i> -- he tells me -- <i>it will be a mess</i>! Many hand gestured went into that comment.</p><p>The Air France flight to Paris is on time, early actually, my layover there is pleasant. Clarins is accepting sign ups for free facials. I have the time for it!</p><p> (breakfast at Paris airport)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3M7cmZ9p-qa70fvT-wKSOtYZCaibWri_xJv8eWrgVzJDb4a-Fz5w7f-boIgmy2PLpcZ-Z7pyDaEM7r_p8XiHw8uGwbC3KgHZIncvb5ZkxP3EK0tT14XbEcPLMhaeafzxvfQJBPVNiwJSJpUx1rNxBmavOdn1wOupN5EXN_5xLaKjiQVgFXDtnbQ/s2675/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3M7cmZ9p-qa70fvT-wKSOtYZCaibWri_xJv8eWrgVzJDb4a-Fz5w7f-boIgmy2PLpcZ-Z7pyDaEM7r_p8XiHw8uGwbC3KgHZIncvb5ZkxP3EK0tT14XbEcPLMhaeafzxvfQJBPVNiwJSJpUx1rNxBmavOdn1wOupN5EXN_5xLaKjiQVgFXDtnbQ/w400-h378/2.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And the flight to Detroit on Delta is good. Three movies later, including the three-hour Oppenheimer, and we're landing. And finally -- onto Madison. An early arrival there as well. Ed is waiting for me at the airport. Wow it's warm outside! We do have a super cold blast coming in tonight. (Today's high: <b>71</b>F/22C. Tomorrow's high: <b>28</b>F/-2C!) I feel that impending change in the air. Is it still February? Is spring nearly on the way?</p><p><i><span style="color: #800180;">All good?</span></i> -- I ask.</p><p><i>All good. We have a new cat hanging around the barn. Otherwise quiet. Missed you.</i></p><p>I am home.<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-27919780614727321252024-02-26T15:31:00.008-06:002024-02-26T22:27:53.999-06:00Florence<p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of rain</span></p><p>When you are navigating a city alone, rain, of the modest type, can be your friend. It can cause you to look at daily life there in a new way. It gives a luster to cobbled streets and it adds interesting shapes and colors as people flip open their umbrellas. So honestly, I am not disappointed to wake up to rain.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMDEnPvQY7PXdgzRvAd3vYT8ftXA0nDzy5085KektYCE3bVVFVE0Fyu3Tg33PDIwIO_dZwjLDbUoSWOtc1tprYeLE7id6_4G5Nss-cM2h-5-M8mrkJMMyE_hgQ1uSVEauKL4nrVLT8HMCRqDwKfqNlLTtdtLmG6G5qqJtD8N3w3sLT_kSbNpX1w/s4225/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMDEnPvQY7PXdgzRvAd3vYT8ftXA0nDzy5085KektYCE3bVVFVE0Fyu3Tg33PDIwIO_dZwjLDbUoSWOtc1tprYeLE7id6_4G5Nss-cM2h-5-M8mrkJMMyE_hgQ1uSVEauKL4nrVLT8HMCRqDwKfqNlLTtdtLmG6G5qqJtD8N3w3sLT_kSbNpX1w/w700-h438/1.jpg" width="700" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Since I had sunshine yesterday, I know what the Tuscan hills look like. My eyes now focus on the moving waters of the Arno, the wet red tiles of the rooftops, and the shades of damp orange on the houses at the water's edge.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnnjWKrGKcqqKHwJvtW-xGDGcoGO9zjVVVoZUMLf71FVlMH61BLWgvhF7GGOf2Z5sQTZ9ScHVAZEnOo3o11EobA976WXtgivYWAoKQjiHMsw1HXi5XeszZzWc5DZIM_6v6Y_Hp4wdtMcHdrDq6FMZlxX3q-3SMdtJtQxXIFhszln_p9ZA5by28w/s3578/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="765" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnnjWKrGKcqqKHwJvtW-xGDGcoGO9zjVVVoZUMLf71FVlMH61BLWgvhF7GGOf2Z5sQTZ9ScHVAZEnOo3o11EobA976WXtgivYWAoKQjiHMsw1HXi5XeszZzWc5DZIM_6v6Y_Hp4wdtMcHdrDq6FMZlxX3q-3SMdtJtQxXIFhszln_p9ZA5by28w/w607-h765/2.jpg" width="607" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>When I walk to my chosen destinations, I notice how deftly locals maneuver their umbrellas. Living in Florence is a challenge for walkers in the best weather conditions. The sidewalks are very narrow. You spill out onto the street to pass someone, mindful of the occasional cyclist, listening for the cars that come out of nowhere. When the umbrellas come out, you have to learn how to move your rain shield, to avoid knocking eyes out of passerbys. Florentines are experts at this.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtcttK9o76MHCx_DqqZnV7aVyVue-OMvNi752JsI3wzogc3N1JUkoAltdRHdYGYpoXV1PcH6vL0Zue6hcKhAhNjvAjNscQq1uVOYFBAahicuJJpUB44aGlY-5GqymPGcVqvs9tiCpuigq7CnVaAxjPTk4B_97mZboyQBjaQFYcU7TXLchIys88w/s2757/19.jpg"><img border="0" height="827" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtcttK9o76MHCx_DqqZnV7aVyVue-OMvNi752JsI3wzogc3N1JUkoAltdRHdYGYpoXV1PcH6vL0Zue6hcKhAhNjvAjNscQq1uVOYFBAahicuJJpUB44aGlY-5GqymPGcVqvs9tiCpuigq7CnVaAxjPTk4B_97mZboyQBjaQFYcU7TXLchIys88w/w411-h827/19.jpg" width="411" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Streets empty out. Especially on a rainy Monday morning. (The big museums are closed today so it's a day of fewer tour groups passing through. The city seems to have cut its tourist load by about 75%.)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKilNs_ig51qG0W-D2qOVm79XlrYM73vgzL0r90_mYaMoM_9DdLP7OdSMW2DWZbDJjNpPVaHDWwMXahcxw11gF_d0-Bmr0vmsVcsUOydTyLu2-o9vTeQeJ-gUXcKPEKyDZ8mNEKAUSBhjRrAbsSGll8BDi-hiJ5mZtfqLtAqJXmx0M3eNCfAkASg/s2944/20.jpg"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKilNs_ig51qG0W-D2qOVm79XlrYM73vgzL0r90_mYaMoM_9DdLP7OdSMW2DWZbDJjNpPVaHDWwMXahcxw11gF_d0-Bmr0vmsVcsUOydTyLu2-o9vTeQeJ-gUXcKPEKyDZ8mNEKAUSBhjRrAbsSGll8BDi-hiJ5mZtfqLtAqJXmx0M3eNCfAkASg/w640-h492/20.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>So, it rained today. I liked that!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiB09F-PjfC4IMBYSgx5zBSpN00JZfef84Z_BqYZ2Q3erWn_Zw8ARumYGynpjz-LCdVClM1yzcfCy-2jv9ZhMUXA1Dt0TLxAz5QA1pPZxkAF1cbKcZHvB-mAM7_lnfjkfLM94AyXpTuOyLc8xD4tNXzXhZh8McWMIm847Pi91pcYGwqPZb7PQPNg/s4003/27.jpg"><img border="0" height="732" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiB09F-PjfC4IMBYSgx5zBSpN00JZfef84Z_BqYZ2Q3erWn_Zw8ARumYGynpjz-LCdVClM1yzcfCy-2jv9ZhMUXA1Dt0TLxAz5QA1pPZxkAF1cbKcZHvB-mAM7_lnfjkfLM94AyXpTuOyLc8xD4tNXzXhZh8McWMIm847Pi91pcYGwqPZb7PQPNg/w492-h732/27.jpg" width="492" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of hotel staff</span></p><p>Many hotels have good, hardworking staff members. Indeed, I'd say the small hotels are more often than not places where you'll find friends in those who work there. But I have to say, my hotel's staff is over the top. I know they are paid to do this, but when even the breakfast server greets me by name and knows, too, that this is my one an only breakfast (my plane takes off before dawn tomorrow) -- well, I'm impressed.</p><p>You know how yesterday I set for myself the job of finding a comb (because mine, cheaply made, had broken)? I didn't find anything in the department store. Much later, upon my return to my room, I found not one but two new combs laid out for me. Yep, someone had gone to the trouble.</p><p>This morning, too, the hotel front desk person (who often has very little to do as there aren't that many new guests arriving at this small hotel) came over and chatted with me in Italian about my travels in this country and his own visits to Torino, to the Alps. He indulged my (occasional) (okay, not so occasional) language lapses, helping me when I was missing a word or phrase. I appreciate this. You cannot improve unless you practice what you remember and learn new words. He took the time.</p><p>In the afternoon, another front staff member came over to where I was sipping a coffee to say good buy and wish me a good journey tomorrow. <i>You have been so nice, I wanted to say good bye.</i> I have been nice? You're the one who got me the combs, aren't you... <br /></p><p>I will always remember the view from my room. And the exquisitely comfortable bed, and scrumptious shower here (the farmette shower is very weak and it takes forever to heat up). And the breakfast pastries!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkh197vrcz8Ppjd4LKZKx57XA0avntpowMXEECjaql-7hpV_rIGu9LKzHm5ct_ySkbSpngkVklcHCscFkfmfSWX9ueKwIyRqso4UhXcabiY0FuzEbUHjtF7KQl2LiQb5NeTSTURq-c7nQxZrXSOZdRWS4DPhTdPoFE-kg8lymzfFfeQTY1XLQT3g/s3520/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkh197vrcz8Ppjd4LKZKx57XA0avntpowMXEECjaql-7hpV_rIGu9LKzHm5ct_ySkbSpngkVklcHCscFkfmfSWX9ueKwIyRqso4UhXcabiY0FuzEbUHjtF7KQl2LiQb5NeTSTURq-c7nQxZrXSOZdRWS4DPhTdPoFE-kg8lymzfFfeQTY1XLQT3g/w462-h640/3.jpg" width="462" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>But mostly, I will remember the kind staff, that are especially kind to the solo traveler.</p><p>Speaking of breakfast, this was mine:</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfj0hm68YbKAh4DpqRTZNnCDxZQeUaAkCcYXXplLL_E9vWvlllEk7Am2P_yElhrhu6mGROzBF2RKbeKWIX5DgDjNS4ROnMKDjeWPizBxWfPUGYyIfrQ9PjMUcuTi8HHtK7a2RIzq8-YRXrDkQKIvQ8tDyrK5Qd6t9dnviPK4cbdNjGNjn-KcVqMQ/s3586/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfj0hm68YbKAh4DpqRTZNnCDxZQeUaAkCcYXXplLL_E9vWvlllEk7Am2P_yElhrhu6mGROzBF2RKbeKWIX5DgDjNS4ROnMKDjeWPizBxWfPUGYyIfrQ9PjMUcuTi8HHtK7a2RIzq8-YRXrDkQKIvQ8tDyrK5Qd6t9dnviPK4cbdNjGNjn-KcVqMQ/w640-h508/4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of museums</span></p><p>I picked three for today: Museo del Bargello, Museo Gallileo, and Museo Ferragamo. Eclectic? You bet! Let me introduce you to all three.</p><p>This is the morning when I finally walk past the biggies of Florence: the Palazzo Vecchio on the Piazza della Signoria and the Duomo. I don't spend time admiring any of them in great detail. It's just not the day for it. They are like the Eiffel Tower -- important emblems of the city and they deserve your respect each time you pass through. But I dont feel obligated to include them in a closer examination each and every time I'm here. You can't spread yourself too thin or you'll sink under the weight of it all.</p><p>For photos, I have to say that both the Duomo and the Palazzo are best when caught from a distant point in a quick, maybe even surreptitious glance. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9sBxZTuykwz1oNBIpfT8jcK9SL6WugLps-r5l8Tw4GcEOlFTkphBzyhNxpP_S_qi4VWq5UJTiGHUcV_805u7Rx7YbDpOwVbI84Fido2miSRge9HTFxg_OhFciGRPalGx_Pvx6c7f_m3woDqRucEM-u1i-y1P1ys7Cy8UOJla0h-MvsSM5kjsrg/s2495/21.jpg"><img border="0" height="733" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9sBxZTuykwz1oNBIpfT8jcK9SL6WugLps-r5l8Tw4GcEOlFTkphBzyhNxpP_S_qi4VWq5UJTiGHUcV_805u7Rx7YbDpOwVbI84Fido2miSRge9HTFxg_OhFciGRPalGx_Pvx6c7f_m3woDqRucEM-u1i-y1P1ys7Cy8UOJla0h-MvsSM5kjsrg/w518-h733/21.jpg" width="518" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Or with a proper camera for the occasion. Mine is not a proper camera for the occasion. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmf7ySSq-AR6jAqy7leDthDFxFkc8aj5zuyME7X_8JAgtCwxoAEm2eEFQNGBt588MIdQKlFDqZ-WyF45QOREsPwwpPUlEtETi2a9SaAZ92dMvmIQmQiKt8LxAPhB0r9wIjoHoCI_akVREiaoqRYDB1nlxnbEAbH0t2yTgcqU8bBOls-Sef5zkvQ/s3417/23.jpg"><img border="0" height="722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmf7ySSq-AR6jAqy7leDthDFxFkc8aj5zuyME7X_8JAgtCwxoAEm2eEFQNGBt588MIdQKlFDqZ-WyF45QOREsPwwpPUlEtETi2a9SaAZ92dMvmIQmQiKt8LxAPhB0r9wIjoHoCI_akVREiaoqRYDB1nlxnbEAbH0t2yTgcqU8bBOls-Sef5zkvQ/w510-h722/23.jpg" width="510" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Now, the museums: </p><p>I dont remember ever being inside the Bargello. Given how many times I've been in Florence (a dozen maybe), that seems rather incredible, but there you have it. So it was a no brainer for me. Today's the day for it.</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqp9G4k4VmA33_B3Gf9Ym4iqsDe2vnAjF20PIxc4P1uYYnJId7tEvEra109wL8yV8l4sKSRS6eLSkMtrYPx78rv2RGjiaEjdq0MKaQRYmTHbY4iUR_Teta684-0Ew-OUKssSBVDS5t9dbdE0Iqfle0igU0sWCc7JfiSkn2DYiSqFFvJ2Lwji5xGQ/s3912/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="726" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqp9G4k4VmA33_B3Gf9Ym4iqsDe2vnAjF20PIxc4P1uYYnJId7tEvEra109wL8yV8l4sKSRS6eLSkMtrYPx78rv2RGjiaEjdq0MKaQRYmTHbY4iUR_Teta684-0Ew-OUKssSBVDS5t9dbdE0Iqfle0igU0sWCc7JfiSkn2DYiSqFFvJ2Lwji5xGQ/w404-h726/7.jpg" width="404" /></a><br /> </p><p>A quick fact check for those who dont know it: The building itself dates back to the 13th century. First a seat of government, then a prison (think: executions in the courtyard!)...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6ROiVcdz1e_Id4I85w8fPCgSLcYA1PnU0SuGoeorczIGsWoc3XNZYqxuMNrqu97PSWrbSPjrTF6h9f6abu9x0haY8f-PnFEW53PTERzYY522H6yR-xh1ckSYnUviiRbhYSMSrUp3UNXVXyZm9ZN3KmOSz_ebnjSunft3-7ykEqAEWHPcyof7RA/s3551/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="669" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6ROiVcdz1e_Id4I85w8fPCgSLcYA1PnU0SuGoeorczIGsWoc3XNZYqxuMNrqu97PSWrbSPjrTF6h9f6abu9x0haY8f-PnFEW53PTERzYY522H6yR-xh1ckSYnUviiRbhYSMSrUp3UNXVXyZm9ZN3KmOSz_ebnjSunft3-7ykEqAEWHPcyof7RA/w554-h669/8.jpg" width="554" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>... and now finally a museum. It's nearly empty today. I dont know why. People are spoiled by art everywhere in Florence. </p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNj3fgFfnb0rIdF44TW23Milb01gi64burjsQ5pfwpkqSp_FkCmDcXIti5XIDtMe07NlC9jYoHCXswbzEabirT3AQdMO5HbyYoLH2VVYyvXHWE0SL4x4tad_eg-EqoPRU2PBAJStfda16Sc_acpTlaR0U5U76RHVMp9gCKY2-Q9vmBlqudagsHQ/s4416/13.jpg"><img border="0" height="489" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNj3fgFfnb0rIdF44TW23Milb01gi64burjsQ5pfwpkqSp_FkCmDcXIti5XIDtMe07NlC9jYoHCXswbzEabirT3AQdMO5HbyYoLH2VVYyvXHWE0SL4x4tad_eg-EqoPRU2PBAJStfda16Sc_acpTlaR0U5U76RHVMp9gCKY2-Q9vmBlqudagsHQ/w735-h489/13.jpg" width="735" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>But, oh, the sculpture! There's a whole room of Donatellos, and it includes two Davids!</p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVMdR4D7PDJTUkdkTI0OuXtSHSRifid8Ilyv-xEY84QkzTVHMOsP_Mll_KdwlZaKaT4JeYhmB2WsslbwXJx4QYWsrttEUJX-OyqwgOK1soOybcfTV_jT2khJV6GxC9nAczDPxUQLo3B_xTC1Sr6simMVRBfsOOJ07MEP1h-8KvFNVHfGehw8PSg/s3803/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVMdR4D7PDJTUkdkTI0OuXtSHSRifid8Ilyv-xEY84QkzTVHMOsP_Mll_KdwlZaKaT4JeYhmB2WsslbwXJx4QYWsrttEUJX-OyqwgOK1soOybcfTV_jT2khJV6GxC9nAczDPxUQLo3B_xTC1Sr6simMVRBfsOOJ07MEP1h-8KvFNVHfGehw8PSg/w436-h640/9.jpg" width="436" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>Here's the more audacious bronze David, which has to have raised some eyebrows in the day (he did it years before Michelangelo sculpted his own, now extremely famous David). A guy without clothes, in a hat and designer boots. Okay!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaA2WPDkL_eQoZnqZFdiSoMP33EvdHQBloEasp8bseYY9SNNrLx9tiWJMBvBucTXyYAYjM3q2pCWMhGgZmb9zaU2W-pCzgjbzRFRqX8zezWw74J_KQeZOL5C8Nwxl0R1i3Dh380thDvTmjm-TR9q8xfUnBJs0eXPi5SB9Df9HRKzrRwHpPa1GQWw/s3414/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="676" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaA2WPDkL_eQoZnqZFdiSoMP33EvdHQBloEasp8bseYY9SNNrLx9tiWJMBvBucTXyYAYjM3q2pCWMhGgZmb9zaU2W-pCzgjbzRFRqX8zezWw74J_KQeZOL5C8Nwxl0R1i3Dh380thDvTmjm-TR9q8xfUnBJs0eXPi5SB9Df9HRKzrRwHpPa1GQWw/w583-h676/10.jpg" width="583" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Here, too, you'll find the panels that were submitted in the competition to do the bronze doors of the Baptistery. Only two survived (the others were melted down) -- the winning one of Ghiberti and the second place finish of Brunelleschi. <br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV1vwIGcfFcnRVPk0OYtThvO9a3QAxiY5HprZEX_OFmk7Xw7ngSgqi1Z_l1qxaiEcgBlTJ37QgWK7rqptcwQcDvpWAmdydJIf9AQ7N2nj6eA4dkA8pE-0QhUAMjfs94BBE38QV5lFZWZJVbd6by2e3p4w3lYvRSZYPSbRXT4Y_mTwrWKcgH4kykg/s3258/12.jpg"><img border="0" height="564" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV1vwIGcfFcnRVPk0OYtThvO9a3QAxiY5HprZEX_OFmk7Xw7ngSgqi1Z_l1qxaiEcgBlTJ37QgWK7rqptcwQcDvpWAmdydJIf9AQ7N2nj6eA4dkA8pE-0QhUAMjfs94BBE38QV5lFZWZJVbd6by2e3p4w3lYvRSZYPSbRXT4Y_mTwrWKcgH4kykg/w640-h564/12.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznGjl718LcA97aK1iEqbqu-PsRNVoZuVV339H16lkr6j-ZcmHvMbusXBfkD7xImClwhJDXClrcJSRHtqLLnpZb7xcsrdUPnbVaPLMCY34fc0wRQzM5wzWzUkcqpka6t_MnQleZvFN92IIjlbXgLFGlzuWlUP_oebXp66W-4ytWNQtyb_LpdmVEA/s3026/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznGjl718LcA97aK1iEqbqu-PsRNVoZuVV339H16lkr6j-ZcmHvMbusXBfkD7xImClwhJDXClrcJSRHtqLLnpZb7xcsrdUPnbVaPLMCY34fc0wRQzM5wzWzUkcqpka6t_MnQleZvFN92IIjlbXgLFGlzuWlUP_oebXp66W-4ytWNQtyb_LpdmVEA/w640-h590/11.jpg" width="640" /></a><p><br /></p><p>I read earlier that this competition may have changed Florence forever, since Brunelleschi got so pissed at losing, that he abandoned sculpture and turned his attention to architecture. And Florence is the better for i!</p><p>This museum also has Michelangelo's Bacchus. The artist was so young when he did it! (Just 21.) Maybe that's why there's an almost playfulness in this statue: drunk, leaning, almost as if ready to fall over (he's supporting himself on his back foot!).</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGQ0EvAg4qPaBV6lv3EMZHKdjuKJcg4b6oZUahHJSN0YIm8Tp4tw8h4J3Wrs2G4wuu52BtBHR8esfH6lJXnZZjEJowe01r6gC6CNHSSAJdWxHff24JHayfNo5ar-DH2_tw2WVhSqLFpnu6EvWPW1zCCqplJ3Mt8Iz3-EUQRuF09UU8nCUnlW6cQ/s4345/15.jpg"><img border="0" height="724" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGQ0EvAg4qPaBV6lv3EMZHKdjuKJcg4b6oZUahHJSN0YIm8Tp4tw8h4J3Wrs2G4wuu52BtBHR8esfH6lJXnZZjEJowe01r6gC6CNHSSAJdWxHff24JHayfNo5ar-DH2_tw2WVhSqLFpnu6EvWPW1zCCqplJ3Mt8Iz3-EUQRuF09UU8nCUnlW6cQ/w407-h724/15.jpg" width="407" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Wonderful museum. Really great. And empty!</p><p>From art, I move on to science and fashion. Let me talk about these under a different heading.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of shoulders of giants</span></p><p>Florence is full of memories for me. I remain loyal to it, despite the great variety of thoughts that run through my head as I walk the wet streets of the city. When you're 70, you're going to remember: your first trip to the city and the relief when parents said morning was for museums and afternoon was for ice cream. You're going to remember that you came here with your boyfriend when you were just freshly an adult and you wasted many minutes sitting on a bench and arguing with him how often you should wash your hair. You're going to remember when you first brought your own young family and you booked a family room in a bed and breakfast up the hill, only the owners decided to go away at the last minute. No email then, no cell phones. They left instruction to go down to the Arno River instead and stay at the hotel of a friend. It was my first and very memorable upgrade! A fantastic hotel on the river! Only, in trying to keep the budget steady, we ate a take-out lunch in the room, and someone spilled olive oil on the bed covers... Oops! You're going to remember a return trip with somewhat older daughters, where we rented an apartment and pretended we lived in this incredible city. You're going to remember when you came with your new boyfriend, who'll turn out to be your partner for, well, maybe, who knows, for life? But he was just a fairly new sweetie and we were just learning stuff about each other. We'd been hiking in the Cinque Terre and then it started to rain so I proposed we hop on a train and make our way to Florence. Terrible idea! Boyfriend was not as in love with Florence as I was. I wanted to go out to dinner, boyfriend said -- <i>you go. I want to sleep</i>. It took years before I fully grasped how good it is to have a boyfriend that doesn't judge my choices, and that in return, asks that I not judge his (at the same time, he learned what makes me sad and he will go the distance to avoid doing that; in the future, he will spend time at the table with me, even if eating is not his thing at the moment). And you will remember when, in trying to please fairly new boyfriend, you took him the next day to the Uffizi but also to the Galileo Museum of Science. Because you know that boyfriend, with incredible engineering skills, likes science more than he likes Renaissance canvases.</p><p>I returned to the Galileo Museum today, not so much because I like to look at ancient instruments used in scientific discovery, but as a book mark to my trip that was so focused (as it often is in Italy) on churches.</p><p>Galileo. An astronomer, a physicist, a philosopher. Born in 1564. Oldest of seven. Dad send him off to study medicine at the university, but Galileo had his own ideas and switched to math and science, such as it was then. Hired first to teach math at U of Pisa, he was then fired for abandoning old belief systems on motion and heaven and earth. And he really made himself unpopular with the Church (capital C here) when he concluded that Copernicus (that famous Pole!), back in 1543, was right: the earth does orbit the sun. Not the other way around.</p><p><br /></p><p>(Armillary Sphere, 16th c)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOosbvaaNb7y82AjmZbJx4w2gwkDOQ8NDOC0KFkOcKuI6JDgvdeLMr_bWrXQfIOyySrtu0Fq65VeOxPp8zmqrdHUnSai26kQLO1GjyU076C5y_mk9_8wMQ6yOYTvLeiWwJg1cNs-6TFTje4BNdE83PoCDlltEEPmFfBMGN9QfIm42iQgpoy5u1FQ/s3902/24.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOosbvaaNb7y82AjmZbJx4w2gwkDOQ8NDOC0KFkOcKuI6JDgvdeLMr_bWrXQfIOyySrtu0Fq65VeOxPp8zmqrdHUnSai26kQLO1GjyU076C5y_mk9_8wMQ6yOYTvLeiWwJg1cNs-6TFTje4BNdE83PoCDlltEEPmFfBMGN9QfIm42iQgpoy5u1FQ/w464-h640/24.jpg" width="464" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>For this, he was called to Rome, where he is found guilty of heresy. Placed under house arrest for the rest of his life. Takes another 100 years for the Church to lift the ban on studying/teaching Copernicus theories and, you wont believe this, it isn't until 1992 before the Pope publicly declares that Galileo's findings are correct. Talk about stubbornly clinging to the party line!</p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9krkNUhPa5L_dfvXr_DBVWzVFQUi-7t5a7hZajhIWmy_CmFnh0G9HtxWBWxiIC_nP2p_8UZ0v5p5ZwTGQ1F3mBwPSb-MDAYna03Ba9JfkfDf7Vyw-tovbdBAVhlQqUN8OCk2Go5n8nhgPjXoeAMxakVSQUQMgp4BJmSk-qmArsaFgli2aqNH4XA/s3369/25.jpg"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9krkNUhPa5L_dfvXr_DBVWzVFQUi-7t5a7hZajhIWmy_CmFnh0G9HtxWBWxiIC_nP2p_8UZ0v5p5ZwTGQ1F3mBwPSb-MDAYna03Ba9JfkfDf7Vyw-tovbdBAVhlQqUN8OCk2Go5n8nhgPjXoeAMxakVSQUQMgp4BJmSk-qmArsaFgli2aqNH4XA/w640-h478/25.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p><br /></p><p>From the Galileo Museum, I walk over to the Ferragamo Museum. This definitely is a first for me! (I get in free because of my choice of hotel, which, as I said, is owned by the Ferragamos.)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2wS9uIg6R4eDUnzdquofLZsj5Auvqv57ab55-VmYuhc7zcdCspbwvmZiFtE_SX4OXXxtJUkz-DEIcQ9eB9NH-iy5SnLEcRE8nYx2kFcqohSZloyoa8oWAOTAGI6vKOi5nU-7C4-AIZBBluiFfwbSjk-vM3Gp949TIfRT_KlTnCCIo8bIb32dYg/s3492/28.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2wS9uIg6R4eDUnzdquofLZsj5Auvqv57ab55-VmYuhc7zcdCspbwvmZiFtE_SX4OXXxtJUkz-DEIcQ9eB9NH-iy5SnLEcRE8nYx2kFcqohSZloyoa8oWAOTAGI6vKOi5nU-7C4-AIZBBluiFfwbSjk-vM3Gp949TIfRT_KlTnCCIo8bIb32dYg/w460-h640/28.jpg" width="460" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Okay, so there are the shoes. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GGeB34xhry4culYINCiYPdKa9WIgRL88-G7Tnwt5JR0rtna8l3R4JF4jpP6ssUinMKODgmJCls5pLB3OpSauuLxNyV_6pIZ7evY56pYnIQmnJYW_rHoHtQUWmksqd0KImN7D_qu661FGMIh4wbKAuTa3Nw3BUDXGAOD8brngGDrBvSH78k7Oxw/s3992/29.jpg"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GGeB34xhry4culYINCiYPdKa9WIgRL88-G7Tnwt5JR0rtna8l3R4JF4jpP6ssUinMKODgmJCls5pLB3OpSauuLxNyV_6pIZ7evY56pYnIQmnJYW_rHoHtQUWmksqd0KImN7D_qu661FGMIh4wbKAuTa3Nw3BUDXGAOD8brngGDrBvSH78k7Oxw/w640-h412/29.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /> </p><p>But what is really interesting is the life's story, very well depicted of Salvatore (the eleventh out of fourteen kids!). You could like it for its rags to riches elements. And for his gutsy pursuit of a better life. But also for his talent (he made his first pair of shoes at age nine). And his smooth move into the world of Hollywood stars and elites.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSjwSi9TaR28KllwvwwrW_QDzREE6LG8_9tG2X7OwZjmd9ziFOYj24NIpwEhzOGi7O9SgEqS5IC6WzBP93qTXxmCxxiLk_ph_b6N5sDGPEciOrsWId-b1gevzkEHT0XfDcv9VStqP8jW-Ej1qg2tj5KqQXunmhG1moarasRVfM0xb4YQ2oDjnqA/s3356/30.jpg"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSjwSi9TaR28KllwvwwrW_QDzREE6LG8_9tG2X7OwZjmd9ziFOYj24NIpwEhzOGi7O9SgEqS5IC6WzBP93qTXxmCxxiLk_ph_b6N5sDGPEciOrsWId-b1gevzkEHT0XfDcv9VStqP8jW-Ej1qg2tj5KqQXunmhG1moarasRVfM0xb4YQ2oDjnqA/w640-h456/30.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYim-syoaPL5yBQVNsTkaz_J38hD-A4PF5SqcP3K3vkVLrWsiCy2u9XX5MSdtzARGG5OSH7aWRNbJLr5uRKQw6kut0pJaN_ZSXyVGZKhvNbYVfL0wytFub_xPnbA-MkZYPCyJvaYHucSb1ot6ZQDJWfzOCWXJnyIeAry6xXlLwur5uSaTKlgadw/s3555/31.jpg"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYim-syoaPL5yBQVNsTkaz_J38hD-A4PF5SqcP3K3vkVLrWsiCy2u9XX5MSdtzARGG5OSH7aWRNbJLr5uRKQw6kut0pJaN_ZSXyVGZKhvNbYVfL0wytFub_xPnbA-MkZYPCyJvaYHucSb1ot6ZQDJWfzOCWXJnyIeAry6xXlLwur5uSaTKlgadw/w640-h480/31.jpg" width="640" /></a><p><br /></p><p>And finally, for his return to Italy, where, in Florence, he established his shoe and fashion empire. And then the poor guy dies early of cancer, leaving a widow and six young kids. Luckily his wife was well integrated into the business and continued to grow it, eventually with two of her daughters, turning it to what it is today. (I washed my hair with Ferragamo shampoo this morning. Lovely!)</p><p> </p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of squares and bridges<br /></span></p><p>I made a point of passing through three great squares and going over two great bridges. Here they are, empty, beautiful.<br /></p><p>(Vecchio)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhruZFsyxi6hsw9JXum57m8IDcC03Ffn3S6L-ZENcP4u2gyTpz4-s-JhTC1xr2kYLuK8-y1vJNYlHinj3UQ3V9mtDxDP5uxXl2GSislkZ5rM3JFUFuu3-n-y9d9Bst0qrIqNLwrzTkuLJlAJoK1SQQ5rXSih4VMyUlV9IIxxqJKiM4kT1VSL1mqOQ/s4157/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhruZFsyxi6hsw9JXum57m8IDcC03Ffn3S6L-ZENcP4u2gyTpz4-s-JhTC1xr2kYLuK8-y1vJNYlHinj3UQ3V9mtDxDP5uxXl2GSislkZ5rM3JFUFuu3-n-y9d9Bst0qrIqNLwrzTkuLJlAJoK1SQQ5rXSih4VMyUlV9IIxxqJKiM4kT1VSL1mqOQ/w640-h430/5.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(della Signoria)<br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVp0bpoah4G1G0OP6BQNkIJysYVOwCvFfyxCc3rsE6-kmH5Cn_uKpvUn2G1-9YouJr2E_huQnI3-SB5WVxMoIBHtRkYl31357ABKHvLbfWJygb_ybqH0GObuCkPk7iCokth_w5kmu6zKgNAANXiRx_s3XnWd1vOW0PUF9Y81n7mbonVyQmhshuA/s3930/36.jpg"><img border="0" height="701" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVp0bpoah4G1G0OP6BQNkIJysYVOwCvFfyxCc3rsE6-kmH5Cn_uKpvUn2G1-9YouJr2E_huQnI3-SB5WVxMoIBHtRkYl31357ABKHvLbfWJygb_ybqH0GObuCkPk7iCokth_w5kmu6zKgNAANXiRx_s3XnWd1vOW0PUF9Y81n7mbonVyQmhshuA/w493-h701/36.jpg" width="493" /></a><br /> </p><p> (della Santissima Annunziata)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyllEV6AyWigkJM6dyip1S2Zaqx_DDYAT_lOSnPrtIKkJ58DYpW0EVxLswLIOhpOm1p7xh_t68Ez_kLw5zaZltRnQ6Bel2VDXDvcjFVg82j1sd7MC0B-o-hJgrFbHFDBoQ-m1AKMR4Xm-VVhWkQ25ZpaFXpx7e99Bsd3-q9_PquZtCdadEiONx5A/s4416/16.jpg"><img border="0" height="479" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyllEV6AyWigkJM6dyip1S2Zaqx_DDYAT_lOSnPrtIKkJ58DYpW0EVxLswLIOhpOm1p7xh_t68Ez_kLw5zaZltRnQ6Bel2VDXDvcjFVg82j1sd7MC0B-o-hJgrFbHFDBoQ-m1AKMR4Xm-VVhWkQ25ZpaFXpx7e99Bsd3-q9_PquZtCdadEiONx5A/w720-h479/16.jpg" width="720" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(di Santa Croce)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2p4a0tTBI0slg1HkzVaDsmMKMlVgsLhDK68gZfl0mX-05RVd1CoMq8Awm0NtuxqKlTaGGAs0XK_d8k_8MpTeIjGd8IwBC_zZkg3qAV3ZSfoYsam8FxyChzpiqldcSKC9udLhm5veN1yOLDgNEGhiR68JqoSIGBu-8GcdW9mXhDn0jmJfP7swrSg/s4416/22.jpg"><img border="0" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2p4a0tTBI0slg1HkzVaDsmMKMlVgsLhDK68gZfl0mX-05RVd1CoMq8Awm0NtuxqKlTaGGAs0XK_d8k_8MpTeIjGd8IwBC_zZkg3qAV3ZSfoYsam8FxyChzpiqldcSKC9udLhm5veN1yOLDgNEGhiR68JqoSIGBu-8GcdW9mXhDn0jmJfP7swrSg/w749-h496/22.jpg" width="749" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Ponte Santa Trinita)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2s_o5sjmeQoUFsqqgg9Ry0bvu37LFdq5uxuXpgDYIpWuprw0DRDqn3M4RJTk3N1BghYhRLESo7RdFOItBM7BcMtQeygJ1KbaIgoliD3UyTTjALQf9G4AqmBmAoUPRmQdrZdesvR0MEC35Q7cyas1Q_Pq-HNl1ZuL6z5SnXSR7p1AhW6k-MPubzg/s3291/26.jpg"><img border="0" height="463" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2s_o5sjmeQoUFsqqgg9Ry0bvu37LFdq5uxuXpgDYIpWuprw0DRDqn3M4RJTk3N1BghYhRLESo7RdFOItBM7BcMtQeygJ1KbaIgoliD3UyTTjALQf9G4AqmBmAoUPRmQdrZdesvR0MEC35Q7cyas1Q_Pq-HNl1ZuL6z5SnXSR7p1AhW6k-MPubzg/w727-h463/26.jpg" width="727" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of artiginale gelato</span></p><p>I do know that the word "artisinal," when placed before foods, is much hyped and overused. But in Italy, artisinal, as placed before gelato, means something. It tells us that the gelato is made by the store owner, daily, in small batches, using only fresh ingredients. No preservatives, no fake colors. </p><p>Note that I avoid using the term ice cream, because gelato is not really ice cream. Gelato has less cream and more milk. No eggs. Less fat, less air, so it has a different texture. </p><p>To be in Italy and not eat gelato? Impossible! And yet, I haven't had any. My days have been full of food and full of everything else and frankly, chasing down good gelato stores was going to take time that I simply did not have. </p><p>But today I have the time! </p><p>You say -- too cold! Too wet! I say -- that is so un-Italian! In fact, at the end of my museum run, I find <a href="https://www.gelaterialacarraia.it/gelati-firenze/">La Carraia</a> at the Oltrarno side, and as I stand there wondering which flavors I could possibly choose from the tempting selection...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKiMMOKqrnP21pmNnShyjInZrp00Hof5iuS0eXUAaVR0gvygQUHAwvxXBpcEP9G4PUQQvRrI__XK4m0gQn3hw_qIT1TMMkcyU1bBHnvri0jfD0GldyV5oujGz4bxs-1Cp590n66l640slb6vgWW16Jr00ZpkiTQvAigF0uAE7txRD4iLb8acr1w/s3789/33.jpg"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKiMMOKqrnP21pmNnShyjInZrp00Hof5iuS0eXUAaVR0gvygQUHAwvxXBpcEP9G4PUQQvRrI__XK4m0gQn3hw_qIT1TMMkcyU1bBHnvri0jfD0GldyV5oujGz4bxs-1Cp590n66l640slb6vgWW16Jr00ZpkiTQvAigF0uAE7txRD4iLb8acr1w/w640-h326/33.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>...no fewer than a dozen Italians come in, get their ice cream fix and go out. </p><p>(I like her bag...) <br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtn6DNaTQgqf4NInDB_uOkvlJNvQwq1ooAe_oLjIDubrXqMi7fLHaSsDqy33AoZSV6EyDxjMs_G2IKFOPJPFxxsS1KOBK8vF3TmvvHlZUvJiq0yPYHuXaGKPC-1ApGkv4NtXVOH_qO1caWNdz91hQx5eTL-IGh6kXgqeS3Zkg395amMPZmVtU8A/s2497/35.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtn6DNaTQgqf4NInDB_uOkvlJNvQwq1ooAe_oLjIDubrXqMi7fLHaSsDqy33AoZSV6EyDxjMs_G2IKFOPJPFxxsS1KOBK8vF3TmvvHlZUvJiq0yPYHuXaGKPC-1ApGkv4NtXVOH_qO1caWNdz91hQx5eTL-IGh6kXgqeS3Zkg395amMPZmVtU8A/w580-h640/35.jpg" width="580" /></a><br /> </p><p> I finally pick the cream with chocolate and orange, and the more traditional pistaccio. Heaven. On. Earth.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzWFkEfv6voe6_Ubk5jz5iE5ZvVZP4BcGAr_IbLjZt_QKbqMQJ54T0NVtBdIIFMFO02sXdIemqssAdUqGDcidJ3ijMuO-V-xiaDo81UabVSaabxbGCQUx1TKw3aOBjPr_tAlixyKv-ILhOG3ec1m2DGbREsRKDvyOHxv94HRwpbeApEHuFLAQSdg/s2982/37.jpg"><img border="0" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzWFkEfv6voe6_Ubk5jz5iE5ZvVZP4BcGAr_IbLjZt_QKbqMQJ54T0NVtBdIIFMFO02sXdIemqssAdUqGDcidJ3ijMuO-V-xiaDo81UabVSaabxbGCQUx1TKw3aOBjPr_tAlixyKv-ILhOG3ec1m2DGbREsRKDvyOHxv94HRwpbeApEHuFLAQSdg/w453-h592/37.jpg" width="453" /></a><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">In the matter of dinner</span></p><p>You already know that I had trouble finding places to eat here. For tonight I finally chose <a href="https://www.ristorante-ilguscio.it/en/">Il Guscio</a>. On the "left bank," of course! I don't remember what else lead me to it. The menu maybe?</p><p>(dusk, out my window, with clouds this time...)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Y5m8ZnCTtudIV-HVXxtj9b2TRw1zXoLl5xw2CfSUqnThhaL2SUJR5MzXO8BkKK5uWyBKYDfmruSWLCFHMgs0gvPrHJOrWYxE63GERL_KYrQxjsnvhnVSgnJeHZ6gaDS2DI7c9G361afcMM-p4HrahEKv8XeIlsouamMnjFp_Sx7CciF7znuuMQ/s4297/38.jpg"><img border="0" height="537" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Y5m8ZnCTtudIV-HVXxtj9b2TRw1zXoLl5xw2CfSUqnThhaL2SUJR5MzXO8BkKK5uWyBKYDfmruSWLCFHMgs0gvPrHJOrWYxE63GERL_KYrQxjsnvhnVSgnJeHZ6gaDS2DI7c9G361afcMM-p4HrahEKv8XeIlsouamMnjFp_Sx7CciF7znuuMQ/w785-h537/38.jpg" width="785" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(rainy walk to Il Guscio)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvTcIiwRNwF6Ca7p5xRP0j_f3VlHJJlYNgsopwfyZGix7pFkZThHMjQmZCdlYbLxyF2UM3nFw7enPDtRgkp1XTc9O8Acy8exseT1Ra639tATrSP8SxdZ5VDJmqhUed-jktb3tiwCMSzgDVW_hI_wytnrWqoFYAyFekYRocvk4US3IC342Gctdiw/s3700/39.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvTcIiwRNwF6Ca7p5xRP0j_f3VlHJJlYNgsopwfyZGix7pFkZThHMjQmZCdlYbLxyF2UM3nFw7enPDtRgkp1XTc9O8Acy8exseT1Ra639tATrSP8SxdZ5VDJmqhUed-jktb3tiwCMSzgDVW_hI_wytnrWqoFYAyFekYRocvk4US3IC342Gctdiw/w452-h640/39.jpg" width="452" /></a><p><br /></p><p>How was it? On balance, good. Very informal once again and a bit out of the way. All points in its favor. There is the question of ordering well -- I think I strayed there. The fried artichokes as a starter were a total wow! They may not look good in a photo, but the taste was spot on! Hot from the fryer!<br /></p><p>(with burrata on the side)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7SastEyCYUbnV0-HWhR3jdypaRlig4RT1_2IpcOOhmMFGzqlYk4fZHQQ7kiuasVtT3rEeY6ULL9BJbFZBGu_NbQ-T3ZIHQSDKGoe3Ak11JxwF_0H3Lf9rNaRWWPKpwf49KCQT68JBDwUGXLU6nxHFeJ8qAQHdKvPLOSDLwNd6iB4765qJpc1AA/s3829/40.jpg"><img border="0" height="552" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7SastEyCYUbnV0-HWhR3jdypaRlig4RT1_2IpcOOhmMFGzqlYk4fZHQQ7kiuasVtT3rEeY6ULL9BJbFZBGu_NbQ-T3ZIHQSDKGoe3Ak11JxwF_0H3Lf9rNaRWWPKpwf49KCQT68JBDwUGXLU6nxHFeJ8qAQHdKvPLOSDLwNd6iB4765qJpc1AA/w424-h552/40.jpg" width="424" /></a><p><br /></p><p>The pasta dish <i>meh</i> reaction is on me. The description (with shrimp and zucchini flowers) was too much of a draw. I should have thought a little harder. I mean, why order shrimp in Florence, zucchini flowers notwithstanding! (the pasta itself was beautifully made).</p><p>Then, did I really need to order lamb with artichokes? I know I am in Tuscany. I know I need to slide into their meat culture, but it was just too much, even though I again skipped lunch so that I could do a three course dinner.</p><p>Dessert? Vin santo and cookies. Their home made ones were superb. The lovely wait person gave me a baggie to take the leftover cookies home.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcFxpBV9h-72AqBmAeANjr2RYi2B1Oml-MqcBiOTFSxtOTNAj2ObLKBzExWPGIa00jbchcqfFi0n32yEa37RrqTirkIEEIOBBLacDbOiQoUONxyABNjntweowTEQf6qVeRoVrp4LwGh6ugyvXkuV0gDkQRtGJp58pENHr5fEB9zJP6dCvr2MUoQ/s4094/41.jpg"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcFxpBV9h-72AqBmAeANjr2RYi2B1Oml-MqcBiOTFSxtOTNAj2ObLKBzExWPGIa00jbchcqfFi0n32yEa37RrqTirkIEEIOBBLacDbOiQoUONxyABNjntweowTEQf6qVeRoVrp4LwGh6ugyvXkuV0gDkQRtGJp58pENHr5fEB9zJP6dCvr2MUoQ/w468-h297/41.jpg" width="468" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Ordering in new restaurants is hard. You want so much to try their best, adjusted to your palate. That's a lot of guesswork! I'm sure I could have done better at Il Guscio. And the big question, the one that says it all -- would I go back? Would I recommend it to friends? I don't know. Maybe.</p><p>Since I could not pick up any signal inside the building, I was forced to put my phone down and just space out. (I hadn't taken a book, because, well, I thought I had my (turns out useless) phone.) I used the time to listen in on other people's conversation and to watch them order their own meals. Not sure that helped much. I had Americans right next to me, and the dad talked nonstop, and the mom said absolutely nothing, and they all just wanted steak and a salad. </p><p>The walk back, in the rain, was lovely.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQ-M69zLGxLxSMntMTXlPNNaWUDXO6UMZi8AANEM8KzHVGL2iUdGP6x-awtqegH9e-6ko00cjZdnhSqMEQU80XManPP5a3NA1kyyPpUFCwvFmwSotBzFsvODTx8OcViUWS1v3Fn-JyMMdAlyFAwkl1aYEklYSA-SMVv1jCAIgDhhrWZaEPkvPLA/s3848/42.jpg"><img border="0" height="700" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQ-M69zLGxLxSMntMTXlPNNaWUDXO6UMZi8AANEM8KzHVGL2iUdGP6x-awtqegH9e-6ko00cjZdnhSqMEQU80XManPP5a3NA1kyyPpUFCwvFmwSotBzFsvODTx8OcViUWS1v3Fn-JyMMdAlyFAwkl1aYEklYSA-SMVv1jCAIgDhhrWZaEPkvPLA/w536-h700/42.jpg" width="536" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Tomorrow, I can't even say I'll be in Italy. I'm out of the hotel by 4:30 a.m. and hopefully, at the farmhouse by evening, or by night if I dont push the clock back the requisite seven hours.<br /></p><p>Enviously wishing you all a good rest!</p><p>Ciao, with so much love!<br /></p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-3533000976300813362024-02-25T15:35:00.004-06:002024-02-26T01:27:53.677-06:00from Rome to Florence<p>There were two nights in Italy before Rome, and there will be two nights in Italy after. Bookends to what was really at the heart of this trip -- time spent here, in Rome, with my Warsaw friends. But oh, how different are these two sets of bookends, the prologue and now the epilogue! At the start of it all, I had one foot still at home, at the farmhouse. I was tired from lack of sleep. I wasn't sure how I'd take to Turin. And I was wondering how this group adventure would unfold. We've all traveled together plenty in the past, but of course each trip is unique and poses new challenges, which you can embrace, or you may crumble in despair. When we were young, everything was fun and easy. We'd sleep in places without running water and with only an outhouse. We'd eat starchy Polish food cooked on wood burning stoves. Times and tastes have changed! And you know how quickly moods can sour if a negative spin emerges and takes hold. And so I wondered if we'd all stay focused on the good.</p><p>Now I know, and you know too, that the four days were grand, that my time with these guys was exquisite, that the food was awesome, that the weather, even at its worst moments, was wonderfully supportive of our ambitious walking itineraries. This is the impression that it left on me at least.<br /></p><p>Most importantly, I confirmed and affirmed what I already knew -- my Polish friends are my friends for life. </p><p>Too, I dusted off some of my Polishness, which has been on hold since Covid knocked my travels to Warsaw out, and since I decided to sell my apartment in that city in favor of putting resources into travel elsewhere. [It was a wise decision. The apartment was tiny, but it still required care -- hardly a sound investment if I only used it for a total of at most two weeks out of each year.] I was telling my friends that a sign of my re-engagement with my Polishness was that I was falling asleep each night with a mixed up syntax of Polish sentences in American contexts, with people uttering words in the wrong language at the wrong time. I had, after all, spoken just about no English for a whole week now. It was all Polish, with the occasional Italian as the need arose.<br /></p><p>So this morning I'm leaving.</p><p>After breakfast with these two dear ones:</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzCsibW83i0yVTVwI8UYx-wRsNPMIHT7jew88vs7Zhv9reQuGdrjMod02ByX3aub3vwKtrn_HMdTgIyZkU7VuUw4SiekzFgseyM_gZ9EOs-KQRx5QSyUXPDJ7zLDf0zMmtPk26ErDwFQ-At4L88Vu09wducWpzBM05vgemhlDMavM2HxvanwRj3w/s3753/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzCsibW83i0yVTVwI8UYx-wRsNPMIHT7jew88vs7Zhv9reQuGdrjMod02ByX3aub3vwKtrn_HMdTgIyZkU7VuUw4SiekzFgseyM_gZ9EOs-KQRx5QSyUXPDJ7zLDf0zMmtPk26ErDwFQ-At4L88Vu09wducWpzBM05vgemhlDMavM2HxvanwRj3w/w640-h410/1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And then we say goodbye. Hard, but not excessively so: I will see them again before the year is out.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm packed. That part is super easy -- I've acquired a few articles of clothing for the grandkids and nothing more. I have two clean shirts left and the same combination of corduroy pants to work with. It's a ten minute thing to fold and put it all in my small suitcase. </p><p>Where to now? I am so done with Rome that I don't feel the need to take a walk, especially since I have a 10:40 train to catch and I do have to haul my suitcase to the station still. I sit and think about what was and what will be. Older people do that a lot, in case you're wondering.</p><p>And then I am off.</p><p>(walk to the station: those Roman pines!)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvU0lv3SMVquJOXrlpwG_1H0AfqT_hobwAS3F3bobItwr0wIjcyYhLJgoCG7YXqLtYfcwT7UOhtpc30dIsAX2z6zpQ-kVx2fprROWpVaiAZKk8Zu99NUlw0R-vrTPGk5rIGOzxfxQ3R5BTLOdeC2EtfxLugyg24Me2Z7E5ODLAs-w66wl8gmClQ/s4184/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="688" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvU0lv3SMVquJOXrlpwG_1H0AfqT_hobwAS3F3bobItwr0wIjcyYhLJgoCG7YXqLtYfcwT7UOhtpc30dIsAX2z6zpQ-kVx2fprROWpVaiAZKk8Zu99NUlw0R-vrTPGk5rIGOzxfxQ3R5BTLOdeC2EtfxLugyg24Me2Z7E5ODLAs-w66wl8gmClQ/w484-h688/2.jpg" width="484" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>(my train, pulling in on time, later -- arriving at its destination ahead of schedule..)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8DhpIHyh41_YcVD3oBrfDzpU5T0tfXbalHlm110yU2veYqkxg6laK96X6ra4sWNjZjTZpKfnSTKEIxCJ0GIptQC4NNCs0uutHT3U9cQGOxBj7dcV9-NfdsWpMhpps_idEmAXPTGMv7kXvibzjeT7O5F7YnzPAw4azNT0_ZyiBJFtd2YgyIEr6w/s3986/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8DhpIHyh41_YcVD3oBrfDzpU5T0tfXbalHlm110yU2veYqkxg6laK96X6ra4sWNjZjTZpKfnSTKEIxCJ0GIptQC4NNCs0uutHT3U9cQGOxBj7dcV9-NfdsWpMhpps_idEmAXPTGMv7kXvibzjeT7O5F7YnzPAw4azNT0_ZyiBJFtd2YgyIEr6w/w640-h368/5.jpg" width="640" /></a><p><br /></p><p>[I have to insert here yet another plug for train travel: it has become incredibly punctual, even in Italy! In fact, if an Italian train is, for whatever reason, late by more than 60 minutes, you can get 25% of the cost of your ticket back. If it's more than 120 minutes late, you get 50% back. Can you imagine an airline doing that for you?]<br /></p><p>Where am I going? Well, it was sort of an easy choice. Once I found out I absolutely have to be back home by Tuesday, I knew I had to pick a place not too far from Rome, a place with an easy flight connection to the United States, and of course, a place that I loved. (So Milan is out!) </p><p>(under the Tuscan sun...)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0p-vsF_ayF28moHwNvBYuR8qFYHPwdIc3LrH_7TOPZDcUOCweFIHdDEL83pscPGTTFENv2rh-cVL0gKeH3-q9rfSlid3g26ZRZLcO8SOSSThEHAYKhk0x9UPI15bMx9KHY1sjXpUMLuKcc6Y3_jjVm4ThjKZfbNk1OYuZBdsooOUBUdJ-a4ka4A/s2286/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="641" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0p-vsF_ayF28moHwNvBYuR8qFYHPwdIc3LrH_7TOPZDcUOCweFIHdDEL83pscPGTTFENv2rh-cVL0gKeH3-q9rfSlid3g26ZRZLcO8SOSSThEHAYKhk0x9UPI15bMx9KHY1sjXpUMLuKcc6Y3_jjVm4ThjKZfbNk1OYuZBdsooOUBUdJ-a4ka4A/w686-h641/6.jpg" width="686" /></a><br /> </p><p><br /></p><p>I'm in Florence now. </p><p>(walking, from the station to my hotel in the Oltrarno neighborhood...) <br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcB-GcfGRhIplAaL3KdYrSvz2nICytVXg6s1r_Zmrwd5aIZqb7cnUfgHdBm-v8EN8VAeYbg7iAmTOP0cPv1slFQhkq84mpYGdsbsPBANZzmyEt3Hqkp6jV0IQK14BEBU70CnwhVf_UZE57-rDGFZ_1rlm2GfgINSfD5lFtl0YV__svPWPxjuj9eA/s3972/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcB-GcfGRhIplAaL3KdYrSvz2nICytVXg6s1r_Zmrwd5aIZqb7cnUfgHdBm-v8EN8VAeYbg7iAmTOP0cPv1slFQhkq84mpYGdsbsPBANZzmyEt3Hqkp6jV0IQK14BEBU70CnwhVf_UZE57-rDGFZ_1rlm2GfgINSfD5lFtl0YV__svPWPxjuj9eA/w474-h640/7.jpg" width="474" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>(meaning I have to cross the river...)</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYtFT7i1hD5bellUNEfIhjRZaL1w9cIrZD-6QVI1gpbi1Qmec2BwBy-t751593PYwdDCn-tP3xQa9FIzXW7OcrHPsLqkyNO8vmJvIpc5pjOjRqhKck-gCucXRr2Ggr2KMvo8zxi2mTqhGhIGcYV18ct4OOeN6HJ4xZhXBUqVRK75W94SvZjSSCA/s4357/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYtFT7i1hD5bellUNEfIhjRZaL1w9cIrZD-6QVI1gpbi1Qmec2BwBy-t751593PYwdDCn-tP3xQa9FIzXW7OcrHPsLqkyNO8vmJvIpc5pjOjRqhKck-gCucXRr2Ggr2KMvo8zxi2mTqhGhIGcYV18ct4OOeN6HJ4xZhXBUqVRK75W94SvZjSSCA/w702-h458/8.jpg" width="702" /></a><br /> </p><p>(I do not stick around to see if the dog falls into the river or licks the ice cream cone...)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-Hx8cLSdOnXPxMC5Cyx6cYdRhYwRXqwyhVN_r0PSDmU0I_uTkGv-5E5UstlbrEGpQawkI7BNNo7px_e6vRnD2rECgPAxcWFAaFUKHsOK7Nn5E1mFchjQbpodR6ZqBeZ0cRlMw4W6XrGN0DIj9vJiQ-DLfg6IbU40zTo-uNwYbXgJDNTnkoSgzA/s3570/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-Hx8cLSdOnXPxMC5Cyx6cYdRhYwRXqwyhVN_r0PSDmU0I_uTkGv-5E5UstlbrEGpQawkI7BNNo7px_e6vRnD2rECgPAxcWFAaFUKHsOK7Nn5E1mFchjQbpodR6ZqBeZ0cRlMw4W6XrGN0DIj9vJiQ-DLfg6IbU40zTo-uNwYbXgJDNTnkoSgzA/w640-h458/9.jpg" width="640" /></a><p><br /></p><p>I have a funny and sweet relationship with this city -- I know some, but way too little of its history. (I'm not a scholar of the Renaissance.) I appreciate but am not moved to tears by Renaissance art. And honestly, I've been to the Uffizi and Accademia enough times to last me. I know these places are packed with tourists, indeed, I know Florence is just as over-touristed as Rome is (if not more). For all these reasons, well you might wonder -- why do I love this place so much?</p><p>I suppose it's for the entirety, rather than its individual components. I like to take in Florence in nearly the same way I take in Venice: to look out at this marvel, this monument to some of the greatest artistic ambitions of the past and link it all into some of what we have today. So, for example, nowhere is it more important for me to have a room with a good view onto the city than here, in Florence. I booked, therefore, a room at the Hotel Lungarno. Even at off-off season prices, it's a bit of a splurge for me, but I cut out a couple of days from my trip, so I feel I actually saved some money, which I then channeled to my stay at the Lungarno. Funny how we twist things to justify an extravagance. </p><p>The Lungarno is not a large hotel, it's not an opulent hotel by any means (though the Ferragamo family that owns it surely is wealthy and the artwork throughout is... impressive), but it is very, very nice and I made sure to emphasize how much I would love a room with a view. </p><p>For reasons I will never understand, they upgraded me. I mean, really upgraded me. My view is so good that I may never leave the room. <br /></p><p>(from left)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUWU7eGHhQ_LrirgpYqMLixZdH_Oi1xLxHeN21_NJIu-CmLQtAHtIplUF1uRpAdoiJQNXcqKr_CsJOWqFk3fW-lxjDODaOyVLT-uaij6gSDF2yfi3kZOEVBHkRFlVoBgxYenoDkEXNuF52Q4hM09UNEL4YTWvbk-L9rVVj7s1aLu4v0YXE7ibqw/s4416/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUWU7eGHhQ_LrirgpYqMLixZdH_Oi1xLxHeN21_NJIu-CmLQtAHtIplUF1uRpAdoiJQNXcqKr_CsJOWqFk3fW-lxjDODaOyVLT-uaij6gSDF2yfi3kZOEVBHkRFlVoBgxYenoDkEXNuF52Q4hM09UNEL4YTWvbk-L9rVVj7s1aLu4v0YXE7ibqw/w725-h410/10.jpg" width="725" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(to the middle)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFd6PkiiNDyYSB6BTmiB7OuK0nIIGVSgUumy5Z0fA0Qj-Ptlm5O8_ixRYs51lni9gPJAd-YmB3nNeJvqbhMf5enaBpWQzmRLSZjjx0AtnUEBE9NZ2EzWoLl0yBK0Rk6j78tgED-75M0_UYHVWmUoF4fVqhmAJl9wiz4uAuIudi4-KPP1mTtVWVgw/s3969/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="532" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFd6PkiiNDyYSB6BTmiB7OuK0nIIGVSgUumy5Z0fA0Qj-Ptlm5O8_ixRYs51lni9gPJAd-YmB3nNeJvqbhMf5enaBpWQzmRLSZjjx0AtnUEBE9NZ2EzWoLl0yBK0Rk6j78tgED-75M0_UYHVWmUoF4fVqhmAJl9wiz4uAuIudi4-KPP1mTtVWVgw/w718-h532/11.jpg" width="718" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(and the right)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZXUTFcKplEvyP3xyPWDjuMrNlxkG150SncchifqHya6reB1F6aj_ZqBk10MujEx1h4GTdRhLfe6v2k-hfakMIv2yOgcAcY9k3h3lBCLIMw0yTCXr9IOJderhyphenhyphenzfM7YgJGjAmyia2ze-EMp8G6vL2aq7rwed_9uVXU4wPWX6CEjSS_9Cs0gZzgg/s3756/12.jpg"><img border="0" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZXUTFcKplEvyP3xyPWDjuMrNlxkG150SncchifqHya6reB1F6aj_ZqBk10MujEx1h4GTdRhLfe6v2k-hfakMIv2yOgcAcY9k3h3lBCLIMw0yTCXr9IOJderhyphenhyphenzfM7YgJGjAmyia2ze-EMp8G6vL2aq7rwed_9uVXU4wPWX6CEjSS_9Cs0gZzgg/w738-h484/12.jpg" width="738" /></a><p><br /></p><p>For once, I am pleased that tomorrow it will rain. I can just sit by the window and look out and think. (Did I tell you that older people like to do that kind of thing?)</p><p>But it's not raining today.</p><p>I have three goals for this afternoon: drink a coffee, walk to a store that may have combs (I broke mine), and go to the Boboli Gardens.</p><p>First, the coffee, at the hotel. <br /></p><p>Now the comb. The hotel suggested a department store on the other side of the Arno for it, so I necessarily have to cross, using the Ponte Vecchio. Since it's Sunday, I get a real mix of visitors around me. Many Italians and then, of course, the rest of the world. But it's not too packed. For instance, I can take this picture of someone looking out, alone. That emptiness would not be there were it summer.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE7CNYBjUEeTobSNUMY7npwmTIEsDca4Rjed3cD5KA2WFIjSfuoBU1eN69bXJ2oeEg6sZqIvTrvzrVvhiHttICuF72LIH5XNgESbmq202ucn6NQaRyF1SOOnNMhc3jmnudwIR8z5jXaS7H1eaE4cv-6hKOG5iTA5cBr-d3JRQCLUiNi8oC-6ULNA/s3719/14.jpg"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE7CNYBjUEeTobSNUMY7npwmTIEsDca4Rjed3cD5KA2WFIjSfuoBU1eN69bXJ2oeEg6sZqIvTrvzrVvhiHttICuF72LIH5XNgESbmq202ucn6NQaRyF1SOOnNMhc3jmnudwIR8z5jXaS7H1eaE4cv-6hKOG5iTA5cBr-d3JRQCLUiNi8oC-6ULNA/w696-h428/14.jpg" width="696" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>But I do avoid sidestepping into the nearby square -- the Piazza della Signoria (the one with the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio that I see out my window). It can't be a good experience to go there on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I expect shoulder to shoulder people. I'll save it for a rainy tomorrow</p><p>On the other hand, the Boboli Gardens on Sunday? Perfect. It's an expansive park, working its way up the hill behind the Pitti Palace. True, I'm spoiled now with the views -- they have already astonished me from my room! And yesterday's gardens of the Villa d'Este spoiled me as well. Boboli is a far simpler park, even though the Medici family who were behind the plans for it probably thought it to be exquisite. </p><p> </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdG4lKYK_Ojfjdzf3GTITPHpHz7dQus3nAVBOF-EgCqPIQaox3z3QV67Q0qmW4oAH0v_ga-ZbL10jNq-P4ks_x7W5oxdW36qszQ0Rg0etpH14f0RMZqfhJLRvZocKIZ1ofQdVZrbnWPlsbLj1273_ruoWir4XMMijBbHJ4yP_Zf4xqRLGVeAPEoA/s4032/18.jpg"><img border="0" height="527" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdG4lKYK_Ojfjdzf3GTITPHpHz7dQus3nAVBOF-EgCqPIQaox3z3QV67Q0qmW4oAH0v_ga-ZbL10jNq-P4ks_x7W5oxdW36qszQ0Rg0etpH14f0RMZqfhJLRvZocKIZ1ofQdVZrbnWPlsbLj1273_ruoWir4XMMijBbHJ4yP_Zf4xqRLGVeAPEoA/w736-h527/18.jpg" width="736" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>But I did love listening to the birds along the quieter paths (lots and lots of European robins!) and I loved seeing the signs of spring on some of the sloped lawns. Beautiful anemonies, everywhere!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RuDQGY-SvgmhkvKRC1a3pCPYKG4SJf1b0zgeyoCEY4dzao2yRwnk0dfMuCWIW5OaiGR11BqvDhQe2yfs_-RVDGRhbw3ZDaMEXhixt2STj2ySr9kSKX6HOE_CPVg_Vbo1oCJPVgXm1cdi0UqxcuyOeAtR_P44r0-Tey1RDmwxaBAJxdVihQZUjg/s3612/15.jpg"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RuDQGY-SvgmhkvKRC1a3pCPYKG4SJf1b0zgeyoCEY4dzao2yRwnk0dfMuCWIW5OaiGR11BqvDhQe2yfs_-RVDGRhbw3ZDaMEXhixt2STj2ySr9kSKX6HOE_CPVg_Vbo1oCJPVgXm1cdi0UqxcuyOeAtR_P44r0-Tey1RDmwxaBAJxdVihQZUjg/w519-h308/15.jpg" width="519" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjNcEcsUFkywlhxTrEnO7VNROwPGvr_oQQR2F9QJ4iCkLPPbfjg2aQMicluWaSVfkgLn6sfLvxSR9-BjKE8sOrN0Fun1KyJ1WRbcBfVCOBz2yJ78K3wVHgKIaDJ3rOT2miIgAg1Dhyphenhyphenhq87SKY9eGjCt_g6Ukzt7GtU3xbC5nEPrx-_hpRIIRb7xg/s3060/17.jpg"><img border="0" height="610" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjNcEcsUFkywlhxTrEnO7VNROwPGvr_oQQR2F9QJ4iCkLPPbfjg2aQMicluWaSVfkgLn6sfLvxSR9-BjKE8sOrN0Fun1KyJ1WRbcBfVCOBz2yJ78K3wVHgKIaDJ3rOT2miIgAg1Dhyphenhyphenhq87SKY9eGjCt_g6Ukzt7GtU3xbC5nEPrx-_hpRIIRb7xg/w685-h610/17.jpg" width="685" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48WAUI3g5eG4oKOEusZxPpftALxhVDrfGcAYSsBdsmqIasABciVArfcuBGHzpGuSpJ3wedAbfvN9CziK0-yRDConR-CR3n2Ep5xtLTMcYsrDiyqi9XsvZyTW9eyda6vkwP4X6sBeyo2RGMUvuYtpr33LaX4ZKpzlkfuxPH__Dgmj9HXBDC5kmMg/s3252/19.jpg"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48WAUI3g5eG4oKOEusZxPpftALxhVDrfGcAYSsBdsmqIasABciVArfcuBGHzpGuSpJ3wedAbfvN9CziK0-yRDConR-CR3n2Ep5xtLTMcYsrDiyqi9XsvZyTW9eyda6vkwP4X6sBeyo2RGMUvuYtpr33LaX4ZKpzlkfuxPH__Dgmj9HXBDC5kmMg/w509-h279/19.jpg" width="509" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Fine, I liked the views as well. You can never have too much of Florence from up above.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPxIu9dLeOrQPgLtYI3ludbFRWNfBNb9K1rdmsJMq3E6SWRu65gfXAmex23nlXeS3Ot6Sq9u4nRL5Ot_Sesvc8ksVZe9wYgdws-P3IWpR2haX2xu4fcgvWz8LYJ-g5AMI9YWFpixXmkCkpYQKfQtbalU5Dfpci1GyZ_A_Gyu5O6xaIMIEBT2iEw/s4071/16.jpg"><img border="0" height="511" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPxIu9dLeOrQPgLtYI3ludbFRWNfBNb9K1rdmsJMq3E6SWRu65gfXAmex23nlXeS3Ot6Sq9u4nRL5Ot_Sesvc8ksVZe9wYgdws-P3IWpR2haX2xu4fcgvWz8LYJ-g5AMI9YWFpixXmkCkpYQKfQtbalU5Dfpci1GyZ_A_Gyu5O6xaIMIEBT2iEw/w782-h511/16.jpg" width="782" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fR4PX2NJQoyXpyMXXOuvEID6LxAo6T8Ro55dFV_RaY-GYa3qKMwFh0SwYBfajoesHg1JeiVGj4nXdv8CYx3y8s6Vge56oF_bfubWd-1Mw0HeedYdYhpGEkfCBJGyrwjFRfFzSunZiXbRJlvNgkyDpPd8BlLsN5FNjndJ4mdBVHkv97L0Ynk-GQ/s3535/20.jpg"><img border="0" height="547" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fR4PX2NJQoyXpyMXXOuvEID6LxAo6T8Ro55dFV_RaY-GYa3qKMwFh0SwYBfajoesHg1JeiVGj4nXdv8CYx3y8s6Vge56oF_bfubWd-1Mw0HeedYdYhpGEkfCBJGyrwjFRfFzSunZiXbRJlvNgkyDpPd8BlLsN5FNjndJ4mdBVHkv97L0Ynk-GQ/w735-h547/20.jpg" width="735" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Outside again, as I meander along the narrow streets of the "left bank" of the city (the Oltrarno neighborhood)...</p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVsjDu8BtS2cJ1Lb2CWNqVF-5l1iFHeTLx7CC5jKhtmwRQF-gZHJl4YQJsqbrou-YidGTJ-18znw-Vh5MvveK2N9ZS5_ydmtJSgssSyiNpJBjtZlWdlP2guxctreRKIDL7Iyo5kVR96ZseFZL_JfGzFvrfm9FVMixBkY05rmn-jgnbdSeBYyh0g/s2944/21.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVsjDu8BtS2cJ1Lb2CWNqVF-5l1iFHeTLx7CC5jKhtmwRQF-gZHJl4YQJsqbrou-YidGTJ-18znw-Vh5MvveK2N9ZS5_ydmtJSgssSyiNpJBjtZlWdlP2guxctreRKIDL7Iyo5kVR96ZseFZL_JfGzFvrfm9FVMixBkY05rmn-jgnbdSeBYyh0g/w552-h640/21.jpg" width="552" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>... I stumble onto a market -- some foods, sure, sausages, cheeses, honeys and artichokes, but also clothing and jewelry. A mishmash of items.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgoyqBGbrhvZczxdo0DYZguidGR02JOuZJQVq_MaQ4_u1pZkIC_xbLcSu58BmXFKl2wPIM63sI-DUcNK9993zmWCXRpB8Gh3ooqmseHxdoE7HYHWYEqEBJ-6zO8AeXcmZLW54peO9HAQyBow8YQ4ELIYRAasL1zJXfLA0ajEHZFw00mFb0x3fuQ/s2892/22.jpg"><img border="0" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgoyqBGbrhvZczxdo0DYZguidGR02JOuZJQVq_MaQ4_u1pZkIC_xbLcSu58BmXFKl2wPIM63sI-DUcNK9993zmWCXRpB8Gh3ooqmseHxdoE7HYHWYEqEBJ-6zO8AeXcmZLW54peO9HAQyBow8YQ4ELIYRAasL1zJXfLA0ajEHZFw00mFb0x3fuQ/w616-h526/22.jpg" width="616" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvIQAdJIBosFe4tTHaJz_DKyLQJPNvx9fpL_ayd6w4T8MCACNxBRzsVYddoJzpWbcziC5vGZKZZVrfbySYJm7OX9Vleh3mDZzGe4pESbsoZOKsLdzfoBZJnWoVX5biY13aA3gHwLhjOgCcKJ0L8RRrcDDSCIYpWBKTPaYqhqK8w8H38vYl6hX3w/s3678/24.jpg"><img border="0" height="664" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvIQAdJIBosFe4tTHaJz_DKyLQJPNvx9fpL_ayd6w4T8MCACNxBRzsVYddoJzpWbcziC5vGZKZZVrfbySYJm7OX9Vleh3mDZzGe4pESbsoZOKsLdzfoBZJnWoVX5biY13aA3gHwLhjOgCcKJ0L8RRrcDDSCIYpWBKTPaYqhqK8w8H38vYl6hX3w/w479-h664/24.jpg" width="479" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvR5AzyAU25du_h-eWQbrP0eGR-_w4pci_A6u3GsCAW88QCznrv0AUv0QfBialNTFvrC_fKUhL9TWcJejRtfKXpIXWld504tFkh76E1lDDIPbX8seCSy6hZKrFKhoprL8cUWHoEMYFM8yWaS7PgU8L8DfJIHn2AbrOLIV-Y17yO_1shIhs8x9SA/s3447/23.jpg"><img border="0" height="732" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvR5AzyAU25du_h-eWQbrP0eGR-_w4pci_A6u3GsCAW88QCznrv0AUv0QfBialNTFvrC_fKUhL9TWcJejRtfKXpIXWld504tFkh76E1lDDIPbX8seCSy6hZKrFKhoprL8cUWHoEMYFM8yWaS7PgU8L8DfJIHn2AbrOLIV-Y17yO_1shIhs8x9SA/w547-h732/23.jpg" width="547" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Do I always prefer the left bank (the lesser one) of big European cities? I do. Fewer people, for one thing. Always simpler, cheaper, more welcoming of a mix of people.<br /></p><p>A pause now at the hotel, until evening sets in.</p><p>(if I sit on the comfy chair and look out to my left, I see both the Duomo and the Palazzo Vecchio)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjosLVQb1b3MuZ2vKRTqrxFyOkl3TZshzQE1UAUUqCrRL4pX2Z_1Go28XG7VlAFCyIfy6wYvQ7YBf9Aqk8erczh6tZd47QqA6VoKSuQgRrSjOA56H61rfidBy6v7qGs9JnHv6AadKx7UGGRLM7zko-RQKdV7A0nu1WE8Bn7rJLsCBvWUmPkqCXSRA/s4010/25.jpg"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjosLVQb1b3MuZ2vKRTqrxFyOkl3TZshzQE1UAUUqCrRL4pX2Z_1Go28XG7VlAFCyIfy6wYvQ7YBf9Aqk8erczh6tZd47QqA6VoKSuQgRrSjOA56H61rfidBy6v7qGs9JnHv6AadKx7UGGRLM7zko-RQKdV7A0nu1WE8Bn7rJLsCBvWUmPkqCXSRA/w640-h470/25.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(dusk)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4m-xGvGnudCK_WSqPDQM35IuDhoIKXAJmgDTRTaKfwq1fvOM99q0Eoc423qKD-QMQBpZKgw1KWryjdg-7hbyIaxKHfLhgbvARjwNz-Ne38_2pUVQ6SE3VPV5zfbighKylqdYNkLq0lOc4Nppo40HwmvPzBjkwwkWlX16ZRZTgvF_TgyfCNL5-bQ/s4051/26.jpg"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4m-xGvGnudCK_WSqPDQM35IuDhoIKXAJmgDTRTaKfwq1fvOM99q0Eoc423qKD-QMQBpZKgw1KWryjdg-7hbyIaxKHfLhgbvARjwNz-Ne38_2pUVQ6SE3VPV5zfbighKylqdYNkLq0lOc4Nppo40HwmvPzBjkwwkWlX16ZRZTgvF_TgyfCNL5-bQ/w694-h494/26.jpg" width="694" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(evening)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsXDnh8fgn8YT4K02zFqWnjPeNcXA7BiNdQTsAm4s0Fb1CTL1I2XL-nP5rluX76eAlNRH3hZY-x6eGUsAHjc6gnq-Ilf1SiNPeEgEQb3u5EWP0DQqTeoTH3CuLtyHZWhu6SVmyhOAnupu8IPRWEEzULeCM4Ya2ABAIv7lzbxD9Q2D8jK5SCqlLg/s4075/27.jpg"><img border="0" height="521" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsXDnh8fgn8YT4K02zFqWnjPeNcXA7BiNdQTsAm4s0Fb1CTL1I2XL-nP5rluX76eAlNRH3hZY-x6eGUsAHjc6gnq-Ilf1SiNPeEgEQb3u5EWP0DQqTeoTH3CuLtyHZWhu6SVmyhOAnupu8IPRWEEzULeCM4Ya2ABAIv7lzbxD9Q2D8jK5SCqlLg/w735-h521/27.jpg" width="735" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I go to dinner at <a href="https://www.culinaria-firenze.it/">Culinaria de Gustibus Bistro</a> (also on the left bank). Why there? Well, actually it isn't easy these days to find a place to eat in Florence, especially on a Sunday. More than in any other city I know, Florence eateries rely on tourists to keep afloat. A good restaurant will always have a healthy mix of locals and visitors. But from what I read, once you get established as a reliable place, well, you sort of stay at your elevated position, regardless of whether you deserve to stay there. Why? Because being good leads to a snowball effect: guide books pick you up, hotels recommend you, online foodies list you on their sites. You're well known and people flock to you. But the general perception is that some of the old favorites are resting too much on their laurels. That the massive tourist influx allows them to let go of the locals and still stay busy. So that the food is no longer reliably good there. What this means for people like me, who do online searches in advance of visiting, is that we may be relying on dated material, without knowing that things have changed for the worse. Add to this the Sunday factor (many closures) and your desire not to walk very far, and you're left scrambling.</p><p>This bistro, however, isn't one of the old venerables and so I'm hoping for a lovely evening of new Tuscan food.</p><p>Honestly, the name and menu (online) had me worried. It sounded perhaps pretentious and I am in no mood for that. </p><p>I was so wrong. Culinaria has been around only 10 years, but it has a loyal local following, with visitors (I heard Americans!) thrown in. The perfect mix. It's very informal. No more than eight or ten tables (and they fill up quickly with people, often people known to the guy who seems to prep foods, seat guests and do a heck of a lot for everyone -- with help of course; if you ever think of going there, dont try to book online -- just call the guy and make sure he jots your name down). </p><p>The menu stretches the Florentine tradition (which is soooooo meat centered) in new directions. You'll see a veggie tanjine and a shrimp appetizer. But I wanted the Florentine foods, done well. And I was not disappointed!</p><p>An exquisite artichoke pecorino salad (he chops the chokes himself -- this has to be a labor of love!)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnz7G2NVU5Yd8Fb3r8sSkh8ByyAITQq-6HAvZ9mod_K4nHxjgKNFMVW-oUvmERHzPuR5Z_hhSz_hI-fWtNo7uu7VGd1jZ-f-Bpdw5nAY0E_23u3OrEswjm3TDIsb0LXYY71FXwtbRnOi22CrqJiPf8PxihwcjalTmetStdBMWnI_pg4bB4_DrTQ/s3540/28.jpg"><img border="0" height="487" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnz7G2NVU5Yd8Fb3r8sSkh8ByyAITQq-6HAvZ9mod_K4nHxjgKNFMVW-oUvmERHzPuR5Z_hhSz_hI-fWtNo7uu7VGd1jZ-f-Bpdw5nAY0E_23u3OrEswjm3TDIsb0LXYY71FXwtbRnOi22CrqJiPf8PxihwcjalTmetStdBMWnI_pg4bB4_DrTQ/w371-h487/28.jpg" width="371" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Then pasta, with shaved white truffle (yes, the real thing and sooo aromatic!)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBjmsW6VCM0yO-ep47EkvOUIRi8zF-w0UJFK3z3AUzNhXrpavSgnO9XqDVmUWiSTVa98-ItKbSn8TA7eKmXtLK-FRz5rE9pdpt5QOj7QgI93wdl9-SEzUKIcJ7An35blKP4rP9hHPwdRJ9mr73wCQUUVSevDCfaTkVU1hfo3O1SJAjFA6Ump06g/s3764/29.jpg"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBjmsW6VCM0yO-ep47EkvOUIRi8zF-w0UJFK3z3AUzNhXrpavSgnO9XqDVmUWiSTVa98-ItKbSn8TA7eKmXtLK-FRz5rE9pdpt5QOj7QgI93wdl9-SEzUKIcJ7An35blKP4rP9hHPwdRJ9mr73wCQUUVSevDCfaTkVU1hfo3O1SJAjFA6Ump06g/w400-h303/29.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And, because I hadnt eaten lunch today (on purpose!), I finally ordered the next, the second course -- a sliced beef with Chianti spices and herbs and roasted potatoes<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR_pG2JsuXbs8Vu1N9x2TzS0hyphenhyphen0qXbyxcQoGQoklVBuaqcoS0MdlaLWeupjnpeHHzIoahKzETmO7is2nnQW4VByG0PtQKKIGVqF5hobEpXq8m78PEpGMJxZGEFwRPgLfpmovFfMnNF2nc8tqlYkXvTHxUdGMUTQQHkSMVyRNFlmqL8GmX9yPZ9KQ/s3568/30.jpg"><img border="0" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR_pG2JsuXbs8Vu1N9x2TzS0hyphenhyphen0qXbyxcQoGQoklVBuaqcoS0MdlaLWeupjnpeHHzIoahKzETmO7is2nnQW4VByG0PtQKKIGVqF5hobEpXq8m78PEpGMJxZGEFwRPgLfpmovFfMnNF2nc8tqlYkXvTHxUdGMUTQQHkSMVyRNFlmqL8GmX9yPZ9KQ/w400-h330/30.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>All of it was outstanding! I had no room for dessert but he talked me into the traditional ending of biscotti and vin santo. I could not turn it down.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGylOoEa49Art0iysnIBct4eErusXeh2Rp-2O5JskAOFHoVub77WctPksFqC_lSbvGmEiwKIQs7XCfasr5Bd2v3YRnhX5BqHT-DWN31dILNZyjnfd407zpzkp1I1ojIvwElNkMGs5J7SrbQKvRTGivuUqk5CHySMiNEQQ01X3WAt3JYlkoFqW6Q/s3368/31.jpg"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGylOoEa49Art0iysnIBct4eErusXeh2Rp-2O5JskAOFHoVub77WctPksFqC_lSbvGmEiwKIQs7XCfasr5Bd2v3YRnhX5BqHT-DWN31dILNZyjnfd407zpzkp1I1ojIvwElNkMGs5J7SrbQKvRTGivuUqk5CHySMiNEQQ01X3WAt3JYlkoFqW6Q/w400-h321/31.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>When I next come to Florence, this will be the place I will go to for dinner on my first night. Or maybe last night. The point is, I will return to it, of that I am sure.</p><p>(a walk home, under the light of a nearly full moon...)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqX-oresl6grrLhEsYz4tA66pF2_AQ2EsSLiSndgoXEAIqwr1SReR8wmtYJ1m7t5kRUc9uX3nUt-F9YH_JpVgrOy09WM8tg9iNE4OUntF9cL9wEGbLsrd-qZvsbopM_Gnn_OQoo5WnXfhDUzqMKC4UUfiUY5Mg7bpFSG77Sa4W_SXqgj7UaArkIg/s4274/32.jpg"><img border="0" height="755" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqX-oresl6grrLhEsYz4tA66pF2_AQ2EsSLiSndgoXEAIqwr1SReR8wmtYJ1m7t5kRUc9uX3nUt-F9YH_JpVgrOy09WM8tg9iNE4OUntF9cL9wEGbLsrd-qZvsbopM_Gnn_OQoo5WnXfhDUzqMKC4UUfiUY5Mg7bpFSG77Sa4W_SXqgj7UaArkIg/w519-h755/32.jpg" width="519" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I am tired tonight. It's been an extraordinary week -- I never could get to bed before midnight (dont blame my friends -- we parted ways earlier than that. Blame <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Ocean</span></b>!) Rain, you're welcome to wet the streets tomorrow. I'm fine with taking it easy, all day long!</p><p>Good night!</p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-21019959956928140442024-02-24T17:13:00.004-06:002024-02-25T00:26:23.917-06:00in and out of Rome<p>Lords, cardinals, dukes and archbishops. Patrons of the arts, scholars of the Renaissance. That's how you'd describe the Roman Este family from the 16th century. Wealthy, to be sure, but always wanting more, something grander, better than what was before them.</p><p>Tivoli had been a summer vacation spot for centuries before these dudes came to it. High in the hills, it's cooler than Rome. And, for an extra dose of status, it's where the Emperor of ancient Rome once had his summer residence. Bonus points for that.</p><p>This, then, is where the Villa d'Este was converted to a home for the cardinal d'Este. Kind of small for a man of such stature, but it had an unbeatable location and, too, this bonus point: the property had an abundant natural water supply -- for the gardens and fountains that would be constructed to slope down from the Villa into the valley.</p><p>The Villa d'Este and its gardens is where Bee, her husband and I traveled to today. </p><p>After breakfast, of course.</p><p>(Oh, I love the little "cornetti" and sweet roll selection here for breakfast!)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTj-XvY7Oyc6mk5HK1V3IAepcYAWIELga5el2-Qx9kQXRv7D3JdNFfO6ADKFLZIn9QY1u_a4e-8eqWpHH6vc74iBfRJM3a-8o7H9THJPxOZE7EMXGITkkXtE36yFDr8wPupHeyn8u9ALKzYiQhjmOvfmDfEiySPN1TsY0PNyjnLQQeDe9OKk_9gw/s4416/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="409" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTj-XvY7Oyc6mk5HK1V3IAepcYAWIELga5el2-Qx9kQXRv7D3JdNFfO6ADKFLZIn9QY1u_a4e-8eqWpHH6vc74iBfRJM3a-8o7H9THJPxOZE7EMXGITkkXtE36yFDr8wPupHeyn8u9ALKzYiQhjmOvfmDfEiySPN1TsY0PNyjnLQQeDe9OKk_9gw/w615-h409/1.jpg" width="615" /></a><p><br /></p><p>I'd never been to Tivoli. It's roughly an hour east by train and so it's a bit of a production. Gosia and her husband still had things they wanted to see in Rome proper, so it was just the three of us, straining our necks to see which track the train left from, for the town of Tivoli. There, it's number 11!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw7yzyrMN5XpGadX8epshQa_3IobZkHvUOsS1W83yNnWrcHpIp1jdSMW3Vt_MxV4lyiAb5lNWZuJVGRzXfTRwUKfgYWor5TlbjztOXDFN0XwX8AsJlPVsFyRZnn4JcEg_lk236uW8Qiy9pq1sgfQFplkWclFCmXeO0qs48eRH_q0JbZG7oc0aKA/s3421/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw7yzyrMN5XpGadX8epshQa_3IobZkHvUOsS1W83yNnWrcHpIp1jdSMW3Vt_MxV4lyiAb5lNWZuJVGRzXfTRwUKfgYWor5TlbjztOXDFN0XwX8AsJlPVsFyRZnn4JcEg_lk236uW8Qiy9pq1sgfQFplkWclFCmXeO0qs48eRH_q0JbZG7oc0aKA/w565-h364/2.jpg" width="565" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(it's a small, regional train; lots of stops at little towns along the way)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRC2E8kF7AwQE8znb4Jip6elLK7jNoaga4M6XrE7116ilZw3M_L2SO75CNTGJ2NF3DnlzyXq83NHlVUWsKaquqWZaLo9JsxS-6NQ-zWazL4oD1fwOws1LigmWueTkRROgtrjyUlNfD3d0KsuRBL7QrjcFfoVRu5N2QWyvblt2jTP8B2VAiRHbDMw/s3079/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRC2E8kF7AwQE8znb4Jip6elLK7jNoaga4M6XrE7116ilZw3M_L2SO75CNTGJ2NF3DnlzyXq83NHlVUWsKaquqWZaLo9JsxS-6NQ-zWazL4oD1fwOws1LigmWueTkRROgtrjyUlNfD3d0KsuRBL7QrjcFfoVRu5N2QWyvblt2jTP8B2VAiRHbDMw/w640-h580/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><p><br /></p><p>The trip is lovely. I'll flash you some pics going there and coming back, but of course, we were chatting away during the ride, so my attention was on something else most of the time.</p><p>(going there, through the hazy window of the train car)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixNv2GkcVEjZNzM9IlJswjYX00cHfJe7gHGkvkxslJsAsFOZ5pLfTHlEt-lt3qjTHMMu2ZSe1hFi1G9KGpnkGuTeOPOSAFsfsgSMSl9XmXRzRLV5jP5UMqIyTJDqa95UWCVR7nUBjJduft-yjVdOaJR3bTmNGKM3MBPpqB7eHZ6eGzOxWv79DIUQ/s4114/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixNv2GkcVEjZNzM9IlJswjYX00cHfJe7gHGkvkxslJsAsFOZ5pLfTHlEt-lt3qjTHMMu2ZSe1hFi1G9KGpnkGuTeOPOSAFsfsgSMSl9XmXRzRLV5jP5UMqIyTJDqa95UWCVR7nUBjJduft-yjVdOaJR3bTmNGKM3MBPpqB7eHZ6eGzOxWv79DIUQ/w640-h418/4.jpg" width="640" /></a><p><br /></p><p> </p><p>From the Tivoli station it's about a twenty minute walk to the Villa.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tT5Xx5zRS4xSy94zlyz4ey-EZHm8KdMBcQorMslWjdrnS68z9QaPa13lJ6AYvGTcPaFf_TIZ9EaU5A1c8LZ-YcXszxr5NIVxlhl2Y0I1kFBz2RzFyXmzaOxv8qwf2kv1jaIYYPmuq5ZtgYBGNaad-79WFgZaEitJqpR6lNfEM07PM5CPSlHTgw/s2646/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="662" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tT5Xx5zRS4xSy94zlyz4ey-EZHm8KdMBcQorMslWjdrnS68z9QaPa13lJ6AYvGTcPaFf_TIZ9EaU5A1c8LZ-YcXszxr5NIVxlhl2Y0I1kFBz2RzFyXmzaOxv8qwf2kv1jaIYYPmuq5ZtgYBGNaad-79WFgZaEitJqpR6lNfEM07PM5CPSlHTgw/w754-h662/5.jpg" width="754" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Across the river, through the town.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfwgUdQJ3EkRZfIY264EkJMrJ0oPdgWE_GfQ8yx4iEe7czc-EJIm_h17fuqfWWHnMeZj1uV6tOKX6Q6domJ4HDsZICL3yvtpSoHoGe1be5UtqLPbgju235piNREr1MyXYjex_Z16AoIQIGiKSN7cn8SSDqGI2XuYYpWF7Ob-9xUHOltQ-8KizPw/s3909/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="696" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfwgUdQJ3EkRZfIY264EkJMrJ0oPdgWE_GfQ8yx4iEe7czc-EJIm_h17fuqfWWHnMeZj1uV6tOKX6Q6domJ4HDsZICL3yvtpSoHoGe1be5UtqLPbgju235piNREr1MyXYjex_Z16AoIQIGiKSN7cn8SSDqGI2XuYYpWF7Ob-9xUHOltQ-8KizPw/w524-h696/6.jpg" width="524" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Here's the thing we found out, but only once we got there: For whatever Italian reason, the fountains in the gardens are not working right now. So we have to imagine how the place would look with hundreds of spouting faucets and spigots. On the upside, I can apply for a refund of the entrance ticket price! The Italians are reasonable, after all.</p><p>The Villa itself is currently unremarkable inside, because all furniture has been carted off to museums or sold by the family. There are nice frescoed walls to admire, but that's about it.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yjluHf1j03LDbbSQWzcmTCs-_tfnMCI28wtBHEAGglw4p5zFvFpaWPVVi_1uy1NmELQXxdauwUnH3FuFr4xJIAhuWFQ46KJHjK4wDBfW4znVFB7i02w0vs4A-wFyCiUkQwgLoT_HEQ2s6_apY3k9nkxN2xbDVlOtCZ7VJVo-oCUiad3ygHxRlQ/s4241/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="755" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yjluHf1j03LDbbSQWzcmTCs-_tfnMCI28wtBHEAGglw4p5zFvFpaWPVVi_1uy1NmELQXxdauwUnH3FuFr4xJIAhuWFQ46KJHjK4wDBfW4znVFB7i02w0vs4A-wFyCiUkQwgLoT_HEQ2s6_apY3k9nkxN2xbDVlOtCZ7VJVo-oCUiad3ygHxRlQ/w448-h755/7.jpg" width="448" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5KRKqfgjVmq5DnhPIoBcvKaW-bCpprTjX4xx352wQGFQkH0ECG6Wl3sh5xJMPJCFvyhNIbJK4rXLQvc_ml5283pxRMaJtdt-VoTLJpG6MTadlaWhLLuaONQMty1UH1_2FRWkSCT9RK5oG025ilDe5_hLeUO8vRNHv-YHewttvDoRBLl_voZpkQ/s4416/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5KRKqfgjVmq5DnhPIoBcvKaW-bCpprTjX4xx352wQGFQkH0ECG6Wl3sh5xJMPJCFvyhNIbJK4rXLQvc_ml5283pxRMaJtdt-VoTLJpG6MTadlaWhLLuaONQMty1UH1_2FRWkSCT9RK5oG025ilDe5_hLeUO8vRNHv-YHewttvDoRBLl_voZpkQ/w640-h426/8.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>But the views over the gardens! And the valley, and the town, and the hills! Oh, the views!<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJGgPN8LHIRat7ECdhAp0hH_ZHzO_jxKAIulE77EJhuZMexINFGWq7FiG87DHySil1-lIiuzlmFSw2rVeO2gk8xFdxOzdcR7M8-LWuBtl2xTLQb5lc_xn1bbht_kgj3ya6bl3ORADPYe-L-udYfvLHp7qnXRcnZ-7ZnoHZ5YEgycgG01rQAuooA/s4416/9.jpg"><img border="0" height="513" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJGgPN8LHIRat7ECdhAp0hH_ZHzO_jxKAIulE77EJhuZMexINFGWq7FiG87DHySil1-lIiuzlmFSw2rVeO2gk8xFdxOzdcR7M8-LWuBtl2xTLQb5lc_xn1bbht_kgj3ya6bl3ORADPYe-L-udYfvLHp7qnXRcnZ-7ZnoHZ5YEgycgG01rQAuooA/w809-h513/9.jpg" width="809" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMwVvltI4XQyiOplNdXS3Nb_xwJvs2Aav-Dnoco0F4SsLp5EvrwsfQglUZSBvdvwxP5nCGyOZDVcFMRikFZoxSRrohHkHKhyX9rZWxaj5KJTb8M-9nOcGOWw7F5mXObWm9cZiVZdhxqlL5cndxFGuaIyuzlr9MqEr-Qo2HYKmBSu-hZvBF1iesw/s3224/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="755" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMwVvltI4XQyiOplNdXS3Nb_xwJvs2Aav-Dnoco0F4SsLp5EvrwsfQglUZSBvdvwxP5nCGyOZDVcFMRikFZoxSRrohHkHKhyX9rZWxaj5KJTb8M-9nOcGOWw7F5mXObWm9cZiVZdhxqlL5cndxFGuaIyuzlr9MqEr-Qo2HYKmBSu-hZvBF1iesw/w618-h755/11.jpg" width="618" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I made the comment that the cardinal and other prominent family members probably thought of it as wall paper after a while. But I didn't mean it. After all, my own puny garden is magical for me -- I never get tired of it and it's no Villa d'Este!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8QA7iEvUlJ5lD9aUB5h1QlCmh0XGfavrGyVSS7Uj46qgfWKk9HQkbOhhZKEmQON12Qo-pKhx_cEk0O9-hrWkz4Sm2yJbuduij7NO15_tPoia1_L62VJ-rEw44RIjP0aRzqH3XcOGLOxh3CST0L5OaWNvN122peI1ltWol7kUzuqEZ9L8Kpol5g/s3326/13.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8QA7iEvUlJ5lD9aUB5h1QlCmh0XGfavrGyVSS7Uj46qgfWKk9HQkbOhhZKEmQON12Qo-pKhx_cEk0O9-hrWkz4Sm2yJbuduij7NO15_tPoia1_L62VJ-rEw44RIjP0aRzqH3XcOGLOxh3CST0L5OaWNvN122peI1ltWol7kUzuqEZ9L8Kpol5g/w438-h640/13.jpg" width="438" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1OBJ_88dcxqIuBstebcZ6kh2k8DEIWSSCfeEscB5LhvlEeE57h_j-emnGuoBUMGfR9m81VoJAM-Bki-cEj-IJLs9FY7PP79t_2XlOKgJQDX3iQQ-CxV0HsW-iBkGIC572Ncmnw9wfPe_Qf6KErpyzLdMyO-V_XMeh1nUU1HaZd7SVn1qZIUbzg/s3502/19.jpg"><img border="0" height="719" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1OBJ_88dcxqIuBstebcZ6kh2k8DEIWSSCfeEscB5LhvlEeE57h_j-emnGuoBUMGfR9m81VoJAM-Bki-cEj-IJLs9FY7PP79t_2XlOKgJQDX3iQQ-CxV0HsW-iBkGIC572Ncmnw9wfPe_Qf6KErpyzLdMyO-V_XMeh1nUU1HaZd7SVn1qZIUbzg/w530-h719/19.jpg" width="530" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>I dont know what I loved more -- the fact that the weather was perfect -- partly cloudy and not too cold, or that so much of the vegetation was beginning to unfold in preparation for spring...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg_WSFgKVAJDSQ03qUKresvdTFseV1cssnuXBVyWHC_u9c8OinHIjC9TEyfi8NnELX4J2_eM2CN_RV-CJwAk3Q2qeYNBxLZS82LYR_OAv_JU-kpFB_nYbALvWvq8puEK5jnOoozE4YvI6rWu0AiSP9D9n2gUW-TVI3vs2ZOnDX1kZAdFJIdAVwXw/s3584/12.jpg"><img border="0" height="595" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg_WSFgKVAJDSQ03qUKresvdTFseV1cssnuXBVyWHC_u9c8OinHIjC9TEyfi8NnELX4J2_eM2CN_RV-CJwAk3Q2qeYNBxLZS82LYR_OAv_JU-kpFB_nYbALvWvq8puEK5jnOoozE4YvI6rWu0AiSP9D9n2gUW-TVI3vs2ZOnDX1kZAdFJIdAVwXw/w431-h595/12.jpg" width="431" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Or the sheer display of greens -- the ferns, the trees, the beautiful mosses and the blooming hellebores.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybTNl9FDbRLrI278GUqZsb0jvhyphenhyphenvS5_3CuURuiTBK4GwRAtx50e1uj51z9g4Y53Smp5DpP9_pggZo6HszDDvvVA5I-wp4zMy9fW4OHpqRFG-4DT9R8C5UZHIpB_T4Hyq05B0ghIFwxRTq2ed-raPYCP3Pyn33FAYS5ugnFwfm1rdwOQ57ubAZ1w/s3969/15.jpg"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybTNl9FDbRLrI278GUqZsb0jvhyphenhyphenvS5_3CuURuiTBK4GwRAtx50e1uj51z9g4Y53Smp5DpP9_pggZo6HszDDvvVA5I-wp4zMy9fW4OHpqRFG-4DT9R8C5UZHIpB_T4Hyq05B0ghIFwxRTq2ed-raPYCP3Pyn33FAYS5ugnFwfm1rdwOQ57ubAZ1w/w520-h385/15.jpg" width="520" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nISPZaCQ53M5NjU7AdoLg4E_vHk33aQp-EhDCT-FbZbtHKpiuuu2__vyOKpXJf_ILrRQTM0_wV84q6lkxGVIxxDCELOYHzt0613hGPcf4kDx0GjXi-Oq68hi6mgeQqd02JIdDvV9NGbopUl2gCuHM-y9ZMKU8xecO1eCng0SFrRmzc_GlDNUtQ/s4112/16.jpg"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nISPZaCQ53M5NjU7AdoLg4E_vHk33aQp-EhDCT-FbZbtHKpiuuu2__vyOKpXJf_ILrRQTM0_wV84q6lkxGVIxxDCELOYHzt0613hGPcf4kDx0GjXi-Oq68hi6mgeQqd02JIdDvV9NGbopUl2gCuHM-y9ZMKU8xecO1eCng0SFrRmzc_GlDNUtQ/w640-h426/16.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3uSMcX-6uIwT5QyP7pUDeBmWndV2WoAuzRWn3OxQqgoZsZbnPMh7qeIsQ5AESBIYyRMw5jQgoLOcRKhyMBPc7wo_e1fZ_H3jzMEg0p2oODr3cfzyM0QkcNFrl9pzsKgAAiA8yJGqE1zWPguOYWUplZwI9LITNvNveu11-rnSyUBo2nEgViw5sg/s3738/17.jpg"><img border="0" height="537" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3uSMcX-6uIwT5QyP7pUDeBmWndV2WoAuzRWn3OxQqgoZsZbnPMh7qeIsQ5AESBIYyRMw5jQgoLOcRKhyMBPc7wo_e1fZ_H3jzMEg0p2oODr3cfzyM0QkcNFrl9pzsKgAAiA8yJGqE1zWPguOYWUplZwI9LITNvNveu11-rnSyUBo2nEgViw5sg/w403-h537/17.jpg" width="403" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDaiSn5gVYdgCT9jTq4YBVk9usRC_SOVUcQPd_0VO5BaxBGGzUb6n6RtFa-GoFSaoET6hlzDDZWQIfyL7P8g-IOFU0jW1FRMOs1f59CX-MlZgEhVeK8InlI0Vgt9roCHo1uC3ZeSerphnMQP31VyE1SG3y_kx00xstR-J85FiThB2etTBZe16ryA/s3349/10.jpg"><img border="0" height="575" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDaiSn5gVYdgCT9jTq4YBVk9usRC_SOVUcQPd_0VO5BaxBGGzUb6n6RtFa-GoFSaoET6hlzDDZWQIfyL7P8g-IOFU0jW1FRMOs1f59CX-MlZgEhVeK8InlI0Vgt9roCHo1uC3ZeSerphnMQP31VyE1SG3y_kx00xstR-J85FiThB2etTBZe16ryA/w682-h575/10.jpg" width="682" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And of course, as you walk down, the views change, and you come across another loveliness and another...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0reMa4AMMNHWLeHCA3zbs78F1jQDxo2zRzsxOdp8HT26M6CEUQQEX5rFIVO-NuqohMmCU8hFo1W_FWSWBxgwa0EayfB0MN1ass7DMEiA5IqEfStuWg_EOwh_KFBeGg6pFONCk9-P5nltKR4HIJy5n63yn794W1Hg1Los7JcMqN21x9dwjIEjeVw/s4072/18.jpg"><img border="0" height="521" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0reMa4AMMNHWLeHCA3zbs78F1jQDxo2zRzsxOdp8HT26M6CEUQQEX5rFIVO-NuqohMmCU8hFo1W_FWSWBxgwa0EayfB0MN1ass7DMEiA5IqEfStuWg_EOwh_KFBeGg6pFONCk9-P5nltKR4HIJy5n63yn794W1Hg1Los7JcMqN21x9dwjIEjeVw/w731-h521/18.jpg" width="731" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDBA5oTEezOapDDO22JI7awJP00cfi0J343AC-ZCFo4Y54TC4vuAurtZPq9G11yZh-hpr3dnTxncCBlVESuQ4mCuhTgt9UXCTZUO2mGGdhGD12Bl7X4-sZcPHZFmDY_Bo2lGPRO0R8aQyupNjg6AHM4sVC3jWK0dOBlKmTF7LDu-NL4shI5EVXw/s3194/26.jpg"><img border="0" height="661" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDBA5oTEezOapDDO22JI7awJP00cfi0J343AC-ZCFo4Y54TC4vuAurtZPq9G11yZh-hpr3dnTxncCBlVESuQ4mCuhTgt9UXCTZUO2mGGdhGD12Bl7X4-sZcPHZFmDY_Bo2lGPRO0R8aQyupNjg6AHM4sVC3jWK0dOBlKmTF7LDu-NL4shI5EVXw/w609-h661/26.jpg" width="609" /></a><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB-YZsworWZS5fxaN0L0Z5sDoBTwZPhqmMvc9X13dReNataCU2-g4cAWerJ_hwm-8UZ7GvUWzw604WjPWJSJMltb47JuVH4DRmBSU0MznZuEEIugDTqnsKSMSB3_1Na0GQGAIQp4mdMjaHwGPaRL1_K3TuwDc1IYkTRsPeUrnG__65Q_YQBAildA/s4184/21.jpg"><img border="0" height="511" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB-YZsworWZS5fxaN0L0Z5sDoBTwZPhqmMvc9X13dReNataCU2-g4cAWerJ_hwm-8UZ7GvUWzw604WjPWJSJMltb47JuVH4DRmBSU0MznZuEEIugDTqnsKSMSB3_1Na0GQGAIQp4mdMjaHwGPaRL1_K3TuwDc1IYkTRsPeUrnG__65Q_YQBAildA/w775-h511/21.jpg" width="775" /></a><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6GxDyY3WwvNiu6ypn6pzjUpWqUcIIj0vDHCm7r4o_kfTutwh7aVlHYxfXrLXD1VI7q9d793lRWTj35FCNs4Z3TCRFn7iCFwobZBupMH4dgqOZ_Am9ClXeEfIJdh-QnJlFlO85kNKbVV82MnppzpAtYSE4N665W-JXOUFN0kORLCgt5_RgNmHPw/s4067/27.jpg"><img border="0" height="709" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6GxDyY3WwvNiu6ypn6pzjUpWqUcIIj0vDHCm7r4o_kfTutwh7aVlHYxfXrLXD1VI7q9d793lRWTj35FCNs4Z3TCRFn7iCFwobZBupMH4dgqOZ_Am9ClXeEfIJdh-QnJlFlO85kNKbVV82MnppzpAtYSE4N665W-JXOUFN0kORLCgt5_RgNmHPw/w514-h709/27.jpg" width="514" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_v6Q8_CmQ69ZBpLjq07RK-aB4McBWhyphenhyphenOI2rR6zw2CXg6xNb8f1nSjiaFyMZH7Ya64poyANfvdphdr-mFDZs279py86t5wtVazGBtLfaSYa61HtmlmoFVgB6HUaWIDtnLVMs-vZvrRlvgM7ot2WwSk0rB5SN6ZiIdLpC6l-yfW2IYs_JApAcMCA/s3921/29.jpg"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_v6Q8_CmQ69ZBpLjq07RK-aB4McBWhyphenhyphenOI2rR6zw2CXg6xNb8f1nSjiaFyMZH7Ya64poyANfvdphdr-mFDZs279py86t5wtVazGBtLfaSYa61HtmlmoFVgB6HUaWIDtnLVMs-vZvrRlvgM7ot2WwSk0rB5SN6ZiIdLpC6l-yfW2IYs_JApAcMCA/w640-h480/29.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Outside the gardens: vines and olive groves)</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Pnsg9nmoZFbstZwXbB82H0zpmUG6l8VPhBibVWOklrC6DKoMRD9_bfcW3zBPyD2v62u7as9Q1-H4SL8AIkZV4kSC2xDPvDHn8toJzH8HvU8KRKtXTzx20sdSjYo025CuzYcfMuD2ZplO8asn093DVXxp7PP8Yt6mgdm4ro-xitsoYbj1bWuhyg/s3831/24.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Pnsg9nmoZFbstZwXbB82H0zpmUG6l8VPhBibVWOklrC6DKoMRD9_bfcW3zBPyD2v62u7as9Q1-H4SL8AIkZV4kSC2xDPvDHn8toJzH8HvU8KRKtXTzx20sdSjYo025CuzYcfMuD2ZplO8asn093DVXxp7PP8Yt6mgdm4ro-xitsoYbj1bWuhyg/w492-h640/24.jpg" width="492" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>We spent a good chunk of time in the gardens. Indeed, had there been comfy benches to sit on, we probably would still be there right now.</p><p><br /></p><p>Lunch time! Can we find a pizzeria in Tivoli that's open? </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimWNNMCNs-hV-Z381vAYP-8Zx_mvdBiNKC7C8TIRzhMIk59W4WKWDMTbpn-fZ3RWXfAPz8AUoJTx7tqJP9-5XFjX46EI8EV2VJcDwWuIMQXbeFviDnKqc6irMPNciki8Asprra_w9qYUTX2kwyUnw4fDnSO67QnC6PVTHdVhqQBlX8IPGh9A1mOw/s3849/30.jpg"><img border="0" height="782" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimWNNMCNs-hV-Z381vAYP-8Zx_mvdBiNKC7C8TIRzhMIk59W4WKWDMTbpn-fZ3RWXfAPz8AUoJTx7tqJP9-5XFjX46EI8EV2VJcDwWuIMQXbeFviDnKqc6irMPNciki8Asprra_w9qYUTX2kwyUnw4fDnSO67QnC6PVTHdVhqQBlX8IPGh9A1mOw/w599-h782/30.jpg" width="599" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>We ask around and are directed to this place in the more commercial intersection of this small grouping of houses: Ugo's pizza, spilling out onto the sidewalk. Perfect for a partly cloudy (albeit windy!) day.</p><p>The pizzas are tiny ones, but they are tasty and we add salads to the mix.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qDoKMRehVN7tBPnwzkiShX41vE4cGNVFW6OwlqUEtWP0TnALcJGu3bVuJq8pH7GYsFlOfD0rdIvIama9V5x3C1FYxAAXRBnuf6Vh0WeyurgTBbewl6RZztLvsNpk-oCey1pLG_cXl0qxsFNNKii95L1PSwwOPmp6sOREe5zQECK6N-8B2BaqtQ/s4108/31.jpg"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qDoKMRehVN7tBPnwzkiShX41vE4cGNVFW6OwlqUEtWP0TnALcJGu3bVuJq8pH7GYsFlOfD0rdIvIama9V5x3C1FYxAAXRBnuf6Vh0WeyurgTBbewl6RZztLvsNpk-oCey1pLG_cXl0qxsFNNKii95L1PSwwOPmp6sOREe5zQECK6N-8B2BaqtQ/w446-h249/31.jpg" width="446" /></a><p><br /></p><p>And then we catch the train back to the city. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DFMDNXb_fOwHpYsSgR88ngbfeSZhlKt5egmy7fbdJoER_2OsS6Uuz1lLV2JES6tljEeQYnCOIe83PMFHVaS56zhK9pVVcvixx5yHx7fz9CauInFPO8SoGaQN7pVTG-lzvemQVYWoLZw6w20fXvxY6HX0mZGguP45_1i9GjSnRhJQ0neDhwGdvA/s3780/33.jpg"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DFMDNXb_fOwHpYsSgR88ngbfeSZhlKt5egmy7fbdJoER_2OsS6Uuz1lLV2JES6tljEeQYnCOIe83PMFHVaS56zhK9pVVcvixx5yHx7fz9CauInFPO8SoGaQN7pVTG-lzvemQVYWoLZw6w20fXvxY6HX0mZGguP45_1i9GjSnRhJQ0neDhwGdvA/w728-h460/33.jpg" width="728" /></a><br /> </p><p>The one that runs downtown isn't due for a while, so we get on one that goes to a suburb and from there, we ride the metro to our neighborhood.</p><p>I'm thirsty for a good coffee and hungry for the chocolate cannoli that our sweet cafe-bar told me would be available today, so I stop by at Er Baretto (the place we ate lunch the past two days). And lo! Who should be there eating a late lunch there if not our other friends! All roads...</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61xafvc7IHVtfPHUmb9qnESUQYpbd6koAV77KbI2epZYYrO2OTd-XivKNelty18ASqYBAd_MfrNWHS6_TDJTgxBYZRa4FFXtMgW_ioecDoeWzHzAWPxbOgdtPeC5KmTbfUGIxWxVLxa2Kkqat8X0157miRWzpoWJckYyAIRjUFLOG-eOANVkp5Q/s4197/34.jpg"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61xafvc7IHVtfPHUmb9qnESUQYpbd6koAV77KbI2epZYYrO2OTd-XivKNelty18ASqYBAd_MfrNWHS6_TDJTgxBYZRa4FFXtMgW_ioecDoeWzHzAWPxbOgdtPeC5KmTbfUGIxWxVLxa2Kkqat8X0157miRWzpoWJckYyAIRjUFLOG-eOANVkp5Q/w441-h290/34.jpg" width="441" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p><p>It's our last evening together, all five, in Rome. Tomorrow, the four return to Warsaw and I travel on by train for a couple of more nights in Italy (before returning to the farmette late Tuesday). We have a dinner booked at <a href="https://ristorantemaccheroni.com/">Maccheroni</a>. It's a bit of a walk (20+ minutes), but it is our last time together! We're up for it!</p><p>We cut the walk by a minute by taking the route from our hotel to Centro Storico through the tunnel. You haven't lived until you've done that trek, at night.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sa82YYrXxbdLwZOIlszwWWWfDDKbyNfV1IT9Zg4tvxgQW-heCdXubkpQQs24E-XkjcpzcuuJQRVnOngBLnppqFV-20zP5gE05slMU4kuHiw5iiu4N1qru85r2CmJSyxt6Fz3HirMpy0knKA_YdeK4_OfdwDD2ZTuVjFBs1dIyph_ZK3DeEZ5pg/s3475/35.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sa82YYrXxbdLwZOIlszwWWWfDDKbyNfV1IT9Zg4tvxgQW-heCdXubkpQQs24E-XkjcpzcuuJQRVnOngBLnppqFV-20zP5gE05slMU4kuHiw5iiu4N1qru85r2CmJSyxt6Fz3HirMpy0knKA_YdeK4_OfdwDD2ZTuVjFBs1dIyph_ZK3DeEZ5pg/w484-h640/35.jpg" width="484" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>All safe at last!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPhD8YsGuQ2lFiv-GPcm7Q-oD0T-T8PPud_pUxlReG1xmBVHe8tvRQ8_6q71VefWjc38Z6zP2XbjI58294OYkywafJc_H27Zx1n226fyBhazNsdhZYS3mtuHLGqTglaG_0uOYhNPTX9FVaLy7zvyFBC7qarFsEexgdXp5Y4dyZvoeb0JfUfTJbg/s3290/36.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPhD8YsGuQ2lFiv-GPcm7Q-oD0T-T8PPud_pUxlReG1xmBVHe8tvRQ8_6q71VefWjc38Z6zP2XbjI58294OYkywafJc_H27Zx1n226fyBhazNsdhZYS3mtuHLGqTglaG_0uOYhNPTX9FVaLy7zvyFBC7qarFsEexgdXp5Y4dyZvoeb0JfUfTJbg/w542-h640/36.jpg" width="542" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>For once, the restaurant is not new to me. It seems the last handful of trips I've eaten there and always loved it. (It really helps if you ask for an upstairs table, though the food is good in any of the eating spaces. The ravioli with zucchini flowers and cheese is exquisite!) <br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHXL2PgLs1Lzk-oCCgOypbgyRmI3A793vU2lEoyWMmzOJ8TbyG1a0KhwONIbJdl4DvYaq4QxHbA8aNNaLzdlYZKMyzTulct1K5-VktHJ9WUJhflI24wcLi3cWV58m2BdDGhm54dgKgsqgiqC4-7qtyfjLc0Gq57SnA-tIwqcQzU2vNWsz_yJWwtg/s3662/38.jpg"><img border="0" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHXL2PgLs1Lzk-oCCgOypbgyRmI3A793vU2lEoyWMmzOJ8TbyG1a0KhwONIbJdl4DvYaq4QxHbA8aNNaLzdlYZKMyzTulct1K5-VktHJ9WUJhflI24wcLi3cWV58m2BdDGhm54dgKgsqgiqC4-7qtyfjLc0Gq57SnA-tIwqcQzU2vNWsz_yJWwtg/w640-h386/38.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpHB_3z_-hCB-EFkpyb1-YPDkzrErE6uS4uwaYyT7sL7I9lGMy7g6AInVWwAEKRFOiofhcbU3wfw7eNHHq6YT9lj1bUVbWmI3Sl4NPXmzWLWW6_7lhIrYb_dh6PLZgXCBSINudkF0VjovmGvznYA4TQrfeTSzw8u09mh3Sf4ia9kyHSJPAF4DJA/s3959/39.jpg"><img border="0" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpHB_3z_-hCB-EFkpyb1-YPDkzrErE6uS4uwaYyT7sL7I9lGMy7g6AInVWwAEKRFOiofhcbU3wfw7eNHHq6YT9lj1bUVbWmI3Sl4NPXmzWLWW6_7lhIrYb_dh6PLZgXCBSINudkF0VjovmGvznYA4TQrfeTSzw8u09mh3Sf4ia9kyHSJPAF4DJA/w462-h343/39.jpg" width="462" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Delicious pasta. Always the delicious pasta. I've eaten more of it on this trip than perhaps on all the remaining days of the past year, but when you are in Rome do what... well, you know the saying.</p><p>(A sign of a good restaurant is when they dont just give up on the dessert. The Tiramisu at Maccheroni is superb.)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMn0vwamk0lN9eUvQKjOPhvULYf8BN3i4ungdDzyfBNxm83AT_swDY0V5NuE5n7upkmYuI1usuF-NTvYGAvaOqWDHkICX155jzPnBHcFTLKm1PjHK6rbKQbres4a5NZ0UAgKZoJ0lD_zvkzecDMhLkRpxMYhdJZPt9Aqhk_MOJZjtIl533-6Mbgg/s3841/40.jpg"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMn0vwamk0lN9eUvQKjOPhvULYf8BN3i4ungdDzyfBNxm83AT_swDY0V5NuE5n7upkmYuI1usuF-NTvYGAvaOqWDHkICX155jzPnBHcFTLKm1PjHK6rbKQbres4a5NZ0UAgKZoJ0lD_zvkzecDMhLkRpxMYhdJZPt9Aqhk_MOJZjtIl533-6Mbgg/w457-h350/40.jpg" width="457" /></a><br /><br /><p><br /></p><p>A walk home, to our hotel, on this night of the full Hunger Moon. Not hungry, that's for sure! And so content to have spent this time with my beloved Polish friends.</p><p>(My camera never works well for those who use it to take a requested picture of all of us. Yesterday the kind stranger never pressed the shutter release fully, today -- well, she must have not first adjusted it for the distance. Or she wiggled. Still, does it matter? Here we are, together and happy. If somewhat blurred.)</p><p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1ONLRVkTGrzURENlwjhsOp2fn1ypY25HAVMHJ_6d1BBqs_blVSdeSv3Jl3Hs0cUpZG0PVEiAzXjn_RzikkwR-W2q9GfaP7Xp4Xn6tbFH38KXZe4fszO-RxNA0YSCNKjSwIY6k4QAo5MF04uX4_zjzr_FH-e5dB9T8F3Uayy04tVt-hisM-paNw/s3092/41.jpg"><img border="0" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1ONLRVkTGrzURENlwjhsOp2fn1ypY25HAVMHJ_6d1BBqs_blVSdeSv3Jl3Hs0cUpZG0PVEiAzXjn_RzikkwR-W2q9GfaP7Xp4Xn6tbFH38KXZe4fszO-RxNA0YSCNKjSwIY6k4QAo5MF04uX4_zjzr_FH-e5dB9T8F3Uayy04tVt-hisM-paNw/w681-h530/41.jpg" width="681" /></a><br /></p><p></p><p></p><p><br /></p><p> With so much love...<br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br />ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276751.post-83296111233411460132024-02-23T16:01:00.002-06:002024-02-23T16:01:29.005-06:00Rome, continued<p>We've talked about it for days, worried about it, checked forecasts constantly to learn more, and now finally it's here: the day of the big rain storms. The ray of hope is that the rains are to hold off until (around) noon. More or less. There's time to fill the morning with a walk. One which will include all five of us. On the other side of the river. After breakfast, of course. No photo for that: it would be the same as yesterday's anyway! </p><p>We're in a hurry. A walk, a climb up to the Giancolo overlook, a few churches -- all this will take time. And we're all photographers. For as long as I've known these guys (decades!) we've practiced taking pics with our cameras. Of each other, sure, but of the world around as as well. And pictures of us taking pictures -- we do it all. So it can be slow going when we are on a roll. For this reason alone, we take the bus to our end destination, Trastevere. [Break down that word (which designates a once very bohemian neighborhood in Rome) and you realize it is very much on the other side of Tevere, the river that flows through the city.] We want to get in as much as possible before those heavy rains.</p><p>The bus is crowded. I wear a mask. What can I say -- I haven't forgotten about Covid. </p><p>We encounter another Polish person during the ride (though she's been in Rome for 35 years). This is not a great surprise: you have no idea how frequently you hear the Polish language here. It's an easy flight and it's got a big draw: this, after all, is the home of the former Polish Pope. (I suspect that at the Vatican, the second language among visitors is Polish, but I wouldn't really know since I stayed away.) The follow passenger a little bit takes charge of our Trastevere walk, in the way that take-charge types do, and we listen politely to all her advice and then do our own thing.<br /></p><p>(the foursome)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLBKe7vxjdEG0ur_7zbNcYABtzUlY5Pcspnl18j2UlqwYbBMPY0EVB6ot1Hw091gWn3jn_E1UgNSl7A3v7o5azaaF2dRF34YG5SAm5RmGwAHWQ9V8UrGXq6Wc1wj0gSfIS1DeMRNXR5-Y465xwCpHi1-y3lTi-sSUMCSEK9NgBhyphenhyphenHDGf2K0nCbg/s3741/2.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLBKe7vxjdEG0ur_7zbNcYABtzUlY5Pcspnl18j2UlqwYbBMPY0EVB6ot1Hw091gWn3jn_E1UgNSl7A3v7o5azaaF2dRF34YG5SAm5RmGwAHWQ9V8UrGXq6Wc1wj0gSfIS1DeMRNXR5-Y465xwCpHi1-y3lTi-sSUMCSEK9NgBhyphenhyphenHDGf2K0nCbg/w504-h640/2.jpg" width="504" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(the lovely and mostly empty streets of Trastevere)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2jIwPMfhFUTs6j_0y4eGsfK9ZTDcAOJwFfqGeLMrlF0lDYtXv0OeFVUrAfsNaLpp5rYfh9hvpBPJMGv8XADsTfUypksx042pyvM9ZN7hmUduYgZikBUQNKgsF9b9orLqRp8i6T_BMnkezrquYGDbI6ijaYY3yfXpG1gXVo0V1zKaJWz4yD57dxQ/s3843/1.jpg"><img border="0" height="692" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2jIwPMfhFUTs6j_0y4eGsfK9ZTDcAOJwFfqGeLMrlF0lDYtXv0OeFVUrAfsNaLpp5rYfh9hvpBPJMGv8XADsTfUypksx042pyvM9ZN7hmUduYgZikBUQNKgsF9b9orLqRp8i6T_BMnkezrquYGDbI6ijaYY3yfXpG1gXVo0V1zKaJWz4yD57dxQ/w506-h692/1.jpg" width="506" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyjZkGxPJ1cplt5wUmVVODtm_GJ_v6igTHnbCJCnRyb-10KCOrpB3iIa40ah6jwfDlZ-IxyGTOpUsmweYXTwZT40dqvNCd5dR2batwADI9a7nL6UB16_-EbwqXxP97s1fhOuJAyUSoBM7zpQiLhbUEJ7NJ64cuHyaPwr_tPLbVho1bjmXhEUsfA/s4074/3.jpg"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyjZkGxPJ1cplt5wUmVVODtm_GJ_v6igTHnbCJCnRyb-10KCOrpB3iIa40ah6jwfDlZ-IxyGTOpUsmweYXTwZT40dqvNCd5dR2batwADI9a7nL6UB16_-EbwqXxP97s1fhOuJAyUSoBM7zpQiLhbUEJ7NJ64cuHyaPwr_tPLbVho1bjmXhEUsfA/w640-h454/3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(motorcycles, a bicycle, and some Vespas!)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgdrgiQM0AdYuBfOMwBPes-lrFc6JrOB1UpflXX7eMrrCI4heZLDtRPwZUuxoG1hSj5w5-lal54-ezg7uL5iC9uv8TbIwS8L3L3Yr26erHwW-iR5bATfM50ZJ1rcafTbU9TnWlt0nVlMedPKLWVehUpYWn6NmECU6WtvujTm5hKrzBM_15TLmog/s3599/4.jpg"><img border="0" height="680" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgdrgiQM0AdYuBfOMwBPes-lrFc6JrOB1UpflXX7eMrrCI4heZLDtRPwZUuxoG1hSj5w5-lal54-ezg7uL5iC9uv8TbIwS8L3L3Yr26erHwW-iR5bATfM50ZJ1rcafTbU9TnWlt0nVlMedPKLWVehUpYWn6NmECU6WtvujTm5hKrzBM_15TLmog/w540-h680/4.jpg" width="540" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Basilica di Santa Cecilia)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXGkDa5I2G-9RYAztYML0I9ak-5xfxTPdAxyZ9rRe1SUsJxjnNGwn0pTO2xGF7jYUYeK34MgJEDNX7oXGkE0Rig4-j9X8hzuvV77rtbEyWR36OCMdLMXrHD-TaxmCO8f5aAQQL2TqBXpzvG6ES1AOVJ51W5YNIzyboORGmQUj0VTWwARWWm41CA/s3887/5.jpg"><img border="0" height="766" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXGkDa5I2G-9RYAztYML0I9ak-5xfxTPdAxyZ9rRe1SUsJxjnNGwn0pTO2xGF7jYUYeK34MgJEDNX7oXGkE0Rig4-j9X8hzuvV77rtbEyWR36OCMdLMXrHD-TaxmCO8f5aAQQL2TqBXpzvG6ES1AOVJ51W5YNIzyboORGmQUj0VTWwARWWm41CA/w498-h766/5.jpg" width="498" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(Basilica di Santa Maria...)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMQHr5VVAt0Rulx4_17OjdrHCbB3OLD50u4A1mqxvJC3NhUPjiqM9qOoGqPR2fAExZix4Op9L7Ii6c-0s7TrUmFW1rQqzGZDZnDz-e8uIJlwpSeCYHlL557vCHpTR8pLFFC31kzWfIgDoEFUiupCQfa4zwODnBuEQOXte-v_8Ywz2x07H2PU5vg/s4416/6.jpg"><img border="0" height="771" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMQHr5VVAt0Rulx4_17OjdrHCbB3OLD50u4A1mqxvJC3NhUPjiqM9qOoGqPR2fAExZix4Op9L7Ii6c-0s7TrUmFW1rQqzGZDZnDz-e8uIJlwpSeCYHlL557vCHpTR8pLFFC31kzWfIgDoEFUiupCQfa4zwODnBuEQOXte-v_8Ywz2x07H2PU5vg/w513-h771/6.jpg" width="513" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>(... with the fabulous 12th and 13th century mosaics inside)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmA4QI7o2DQo1xKMAcAhOFXhWJl75R3MGuOGt7Xlyi-S2ect90OBWMOioMDe9N4-ipgjD8pqkP-4w8SEbQDy6ls94Fg9ZxWnSaPXWXYeepASWob8MtiflYQ_YtVQrItn6Zc6q4Uk5wOClrH3BF3CKVCXf_pf8I48JVKYNjtygIIbHyhV2J-FD2w/s2509/7.jpg"><img border="0" height="681" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmA4QI7o2DQo1xKMAcAhOFXhWJl75R3MGuOGt7Xlyi-S2ect90OBWMOioMDe9N4-ipgjD8pqkP-4w8SEbQDy6ls94Fg9ZxWnSaPXWXYeepASWob8MtiflYQ_YtVQrItn6Zc6q4Uk5wOClrH3BF3CKVCXf_pf8I48JVKYNjtygIIbHyhV2J-FD2w/w511-h681/7.jpg" width="511" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Now is the time to climb the hill. Hurry, the rains are coming!</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkXwIEkjdID_HvWyY9u7wYG2K526Ed_K5xYaw7lBgRYas5PDQKuI4q5N3R6h_MhRD2yyCp_iAndkljWpbwZMt8tdjjgsTCmCd8HWlKJb79Y1ZI_hfXQyvFTV4RUpmwVXgxFxkniFaunjuGUn98q6k4TYXO_SVql_HL-djmUeFBEMIDVvHlkN9dA/s2792/8.jpg"><img border="0" height="739" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkXwIEkjdID_HvWyY9u7wYG2K526Ed_K5xYaw7lBgRYas5PDQKuI4q5N3R6h_MhRD2yyCp_iAndkljWpbwZMt8tdjjgsTCmCd8HWlKJb79Y1ZI_hfXQyvFTV4RUpmwVXgxFxkniFaunjuGUn98q6k4TYXO_SVql_HL-djmUeFBEMIDVvHlkN9dA/w561-h739/8.jpg" width="561" /></a><p><br /></p><p>We reach the overview. And then we climb some more. Finally -- the Belvedere del Gianicolo. Looks threatening out there, doesn't it? We feel a few drops. Everyone has an umbrella. Do we need them now? The sprinkle pauses. Good!<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBwsm_1VMVWABn3MHebpcFRDs-4gU82l-tfFDExvoBBUaXFiZhF4m5EFK58AQ6BytInch9oqWrtwf0yrK71tWvNSDxKq-U2ONoqJocKH7-A8q5_X-S-01QosJSbgomIqZ-SEH49pYZBbFwSARAzSlvElHq_R_ZP1qxrJUTKP55SDl_b5GTW9UPQ/s3630/20.jpg"><img border="0" height="491" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBwsm_1VMVWABn3MHebpcFRDs-4gU82l-tfFDExvoBBUaXFiZhF4m5EFK58AQ6BytInch9oqWrtwf0yrK71tWvNSDxKq-U2ONoqJocKH7-A8q5_X-S-01QosJSbgomIqZ-SEH49pYZBbFwSARAzSlvElHq_R_ZP1qxrJUTKP55SDl_b5GTW9UPQ/w824-h491/20.jpg" width="824" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>Down we go again and still meandering, we finally cross the river, back to the Centro Storico.<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgaER6u7dIiJintRY0p_m30xUYMPNMEmF-MZbfKkWzdh0ymWEJPiZ2kCqQLI_4UL5RUW_StpttvFh_Uy4_RhW3XWodBUPwrJ8Q-bux-DK2ByCObblCb5O7pmDNNm9OEhNWgcom11uoRkRIxYI83g3zW5MDYMu7AEK-Dx-LD9SBlyeXIzFOWs7Dw/s2893/11.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgaER6u7dIiJintRY0p_m30xUYMPNMEmF-MZbfKkWzdh0ymWEJPiZ2kCqQLI_4UL5RUW_StpttvFh_Uy4_RhW3XWodBUPwrJ8Q-bux-DK2ByCObblCb5O7pmDNNm9OEhNWgcom11uoRkRIxYI83g3zW5MDYMu7AEK-Dx-LD9SBlyeXIzFOWs7Dw/w552-h640/11.jpg" width="552" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And it really does seem that all roads lead to the tourist track of the Centro. Pretty quickly, we reach Piazza Navona.<br /></p><p>(the fountain is cleaned up and ready to impress!)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Kl3YbxZ23MLBEARExkIYj6WJwUzuQz23-2mBwdFbi7hZBEu59fEur2120YO_ksXHAVleJJGBW7Zc-BN6wPIgLcoERveOgbHaY9yNuD_75llc1XesI5aC7-7pz-n0pl16hiaKaZ994T-ScAI3TjYsu-7-fVHKABMJxYC1lF_-_PC16dN-jqrkfw/s3911/12.jpg"><img border="0" height="773" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Kl3YbxZ23MLBEARExkIYj6WJwUzuQz23-2mBwdFbi7hZBEu59fEur2120YO_ksXHAVleJJGBW7Zc-BN6wPIgLcoERveOgbHaY9yNuD_75llc1XesI5aC7-7pz-n0pl16hiaKaZ994T-ScAI3TjYsu-7-fVHKABMJxYC1lF_-_PC16dN-jqrkfw/w551-h773/12.jpg" width="551" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZ3U3xM6lFB-85C91tcuy3c8RT2QhomyDbg0Ee40XVXhsSVxFoMbiHWrqbNdLvw-q0H14GvFH5MCioIBCWE86CRVhJ0qIhZLo4MFtYpJbLHagiCtug5f1ZKwG9PLQugIEk1hfCOYKoiUsZYYTDvhJ_IkSBiU5PCbI5h4VHciQ4C-MkucOKKfv9A/s1899/13.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZ3U3xM6lFB-85C91tcuy3c8RT2QhomyDbg0Ee40XVXhsSVxFoMbiHWrqbNdLvw-q0H14GvFH5MCioIBCWE86CRVhJ0qIhZLo4MFtYpJbLHagiCtug5f1ZKwG9PLQugIEk1hfCOYKoiUsZYYTDvhJ_IkSBiU5PCbI5h4VHciQ4C-MkucOKKfv9A/w626-h640/13.jpg" width="626" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>It's the first visit for some, a recent visit for others, but still, I'm not complaining! The Piazza is more crowded today, but its vast spaces have plenty of room for everyone. </p><p>Isn't it raining yet? I mean, it's close to 1pm! <br /></p><p>We push on, pausing at this church, to see this and two other Caravaggios:<br /></p><p>(The Calling of St. Matthew at San Luigi dei Francesi)<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-LKOXW0wZ6ykKo1swse76Uo591NNtVA6Nwymnx8FE2sxU44I_ROpTpT2DBKKTDyvr_bUAS-jCZMHjOLtJMpEHQT40aGJZvQFV8SkRNkpXv8MVoca3lokzBkl59poLMScuWOBNc6MzXSoBvsoT3zc4MSuo1xyYW-VBTwKoLGLyl60oxGwUkU7VA/s3002/14.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-LKOXW0wZ6ykKo1swse76Uo591NNtVA6Nwymnx8FE2sxU44I_ROpTpT2DBKKTDyvr_bUAS-jCZMHjOLtJMpEHQT40aGJZvQFV8SkRNkpXv8MVoca3lokzBkl59poLMScuWOBNc6MzXSoBvsoT3zc4MSuo1xyYW-VBTwKoLGLyl60oxGwUkU7VA/w444-h640/14.jpg" width="444" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And from there, it's a hop skip to the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain. I tell you, all roads lead this way!</p><p>We separate now. Some want to pause, to maybe grab a coffee, others want to leave the dense pack of humanity ASAP. </p><p>They do allow you to come down right to the the Trevi Fountain, up close today (it was roped off yesterday, who knows why), so I take one shot of these two before the three of us scoot off back to the neighborhood of our hotel.<br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8vWl5chfxJWa9cbjRmd5fL0TDuWvuajOl6ZSSYDvgSLpm96vePoOdngms4LLgor-WYGkJQJo3UiKp9VqngFZGZt_EMKfZYc5BWQvdQd3VXCcQHM2OMhmrKrmoWvjz9kJDNi2VtBkcY0xPV2n-pssxlMoMu-ldX0DdVzwU5TePSgEdJpSTaI97w/s4046/15.jpg"><img border="0" height="776" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8vWl5chfxJWa9cbjRmd5fL0TDuWvuajOl6ZSSYDvgSLpm96vePoOdngms4LLgor-WYGkJQJo3UiKp9VqngFZGZt_EMKfZYc5BWQvdQd3VXCcQHM2OMhmrKrmoWvjz9kJDNi2VtBkcY0xPV2n-pssxlMoMu-ldX0DdVzwU5TePSgEdJpSTaI97w/w461-h776/15.jpg" width="461" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>And why improve on a good thing? Yesterday's lunch was lovely. And calm. The three of us go back and order the exact same foods.</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90RdZhL6IzdF26G5Jvt3zv2-oMFjLtAQOLQYFxrBitFWsmEWUxk1mmuoaZx33pv4DGPjEkuq_Gta2oKwO7XVlbpJZSoOPu-pi2s4x_BmacrU6xNRTooNhHC-gGMFQU6r8VVGV5OObmSvmGRD84MblrH7U3WQoL-nqp15rcWWkx8NnZPQuoS3GLw/s3198/16.jpg"><img border="0" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90RdZhL6IzdF26G5Jvt3zv2-oMFjLtAQOLQYFxrBitFWsmEWUxk1mmuoaZx33pv4DGPjEkuq_Gta2oKwO7XVlbpJZSoOPu-pi2s4x_BmacrU6xNRTooNhHC-gGMFQU6r8VVGV5OObmSvmGRD84MblrH7U3WQoL-nqp15rcWWkx8NnZPQuoS3GLw/w640-h418/16.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXCSLm8IC53vd1Yn7Ot4uQixi5lA7pzs6tZJD7O8WheemJzf-A8Y8wuyHdZVaLP1NsmLwEBkEGf3HLtqaHkUTNvyFFlU_IjPuAFPmaYgIcEpXDeGUIOf3X-iMPOZ5aMIUCb0NQa9rLotPia91oxSTn_1sg0YuZ8MyvJMu092yk0zz4kNRzTY9FaA/s3189/17.jpg"><img border="0" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXCSLm8IC53vd1Yn7Ot4uQixi5lA7pzs6tZJD7O8WheemJzf-A8Y8wuyHdZVaLP1NsmLwEBkEGf3HLtqaHkUTNvyFFlU_IjPuAFPmaYgIcEpXDeGUIOf3X-iMPOZ5aMIUCb0NQa9rLotPia91oxSTn_1sg0YuZ8MyvJMu092yk0zz4kNRzTY9FaA/w712-h536/17.jpg" width="712" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWTsnR25Sh3BKEQqp3sGyGGU7ftaXQClORyQXIdGzCkKqGBIWV9wVS_CqNqiYcSA5uEzckX7YpUbz_C0L_T2Aw0HYa5YYWFKkFP0PXza-7C2j_8Il5ScRCye4uAleW5XY-O2NgQGZM6caMAoiDyYO5l2AM1ZevFWgClBBZ8kt7wadNlPC4ymSHA/s4032/18.jpg"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWTsnR25Sh3BKEQqp3sGyGGU7ftaXQClORyQXIdGzCkKqGBIWV9wVS_CqNqiYcSA5uEzckX7YpUbz_C0L_T2Aw0HYa5YYWFKkFP0PXza-7C2j_8Il5ScRCye4uAleW5XY-O2NgQGZM6caMAoiDyYO5l2AM1ZevFWgClBBZ8kt7wadNlPC4ymSHA/w511-h350/18.jpg" width="511" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2R60cojhBFkUbV-JXNjBbNhX_IhyBsrfN6OsIuomUbzNGFpDijocoP7va5JrhplFaeD97dqyDblmj71CNrMl0hcQlix2S6ztadr3f7R_u6zHWy9CSdtQif6PCesDHcrKZvOlHgwHkUy2avkaR5WMVkC7m4PscIUk5Vg5dmnxwSQvd495UHFQZPQ/s4322/19.jpg"><img border="0" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2R60cojhBFkUbV-JXNjBbNhX_IhyBsrfN6OsIuomUbzNGFpDijocoP7va5JrhplFaeD97dqyDblmj71CNrMl0hcQlix2S6ztadr3f7R_u6zHWy9CSdtQif6PCesDHcrKZvOlHgwHkUy2avkaR5WMVkC7m4PscIUk5Vg5dmnxwSQvd495UHFQZPQ/w503-h324/19.jpg" width="503" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>So, how wet are we from all the heavy rain? Well, actually...</p><p>... it did not rain at all during the day! Go figure.<br /></p><p> </p><p>A pause, a rest, a review of the plans for the next day, and then all five of us go out again.</p><p> (a self portrait, as I wait for the elevator to come down...)<br /></p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOaMbtF8E91TVaqlhG8LeoLHmiSXzJi9A5_icw-g4MWzKgDLs8XRhQAxnkT9XUm0u0893bBgv5GzzlTGvDuZcecAZYowmQsU1a61d9m-O-mwYLOBCp-rdA8eymf2UAsGYAzqlz5U6jBZYfa4D98t8MReSg550CKRXwZuUIZlxSePX1jZaSA6LRA/s2878/21.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOaMbtF8E91TVaqlhG8LeoLHmiSXzJi9A5_icw-g4MWzKgDLs8XRhQAxnkT9XUm0u0893bBgv5GzzlTGvDuZcecAZYowmQsU1a61d9m-O-mwYLOBCp-rdA8eymf2UAsGYAzqlz5U6jBZYfa4D98t8MReSg550CKRXwZuUIZlxSePX1jZaSA6LRA/s320/21.jpg" /></a><br /></p><p> </p><p>This time to a bar, for a predinner aperitivo. The bar is just around the corner, on a rooftop of a tiny hotel. And this is when the rain finally does come down, hard! I mean, really hard! Ha! I guess the forecast wasn't totally off.</p><p>Undaunted, we sit on the roof, under an enclosure of sorts, mostly dry, with blankets on our laps. And we drink spritzes: Aperol, Campari -- you name it. <br /></p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7Pj5gmOtZjG9SKOohJyi3PDdCLzWOtiMUWDqifSF3GcnQys_v156a6HDCNtUUlnejkzOTqqyd1hg2Jdep8M-32ikTlb2delc_Wg6nFkF-2XkwewOm8ZkZ8IsJn5cFZDRYnYXWIpDY2xP0744PN1Y4PxGIQEol8VQw7MOGFjMIYWdnyjK6fi-dA/s3591/22.jpg"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7Pj5gmOtZjG9SKOohJyi3PDdCLzWOtiMUWDqifSF3GcnQys_v156a6HDCNtUUlnejkzOTqqyd1hg2Jdep8M-32ikTlb2delc_Wg6nFkF-2XkwewOm8ZkZ8IsJn5cFZDRYnYXWIpDY2xP0744PN1Y4PxGIQEol8VQw7MOGFjMIYWdnyjK6fi-dA/w517-h412/22.jpg" width="517" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>Every once in a while, the gutter will have dumped accumulated water and we'd think -- pity the person standing nearby! It's a virtual waterfall out there!</p><p>By 8, we leave for our restaurant. In the two hours of our (jovial!) chat on the rooftop, the rain had moved on. No umbrellas needed anymore! Just remarkable... <br /></p><p>We eat dinner at the <a href="https://www.latavernadeiforiimperiali.com/cucina-romana-roma-centro-storico-roman-cuisine-rome-historic-center/">Taverna dei Fori Imperiali</a>. </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBtG0NQq9SPpQhENNERhNrkML-L6rTHFc0cqXEfsjwcn_a_DfppFol8mANw1C5VttlBHP732RKfpiKhn40kCzSSu3A7s9KpLCjKksZBNYd0gptzlNDXx2DHigi-7j5-ADih7t1jDmdTpKgU9b1I3UKjyGrRfMJTcsns_qGY3rIXQR40OLSb_Wrg/s3337/23.jpg"><img border="0" height="561" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBtG0NQq9SPpQhENNERhNrkML-L6rTHFc0cqXEfsjwcn_a_DfppFol8mANw1C5VttlBHP732RKfpiKhn40kCzSSu3A7s9KpLCjKksZBNYd0gptzlNDXx2DHigi-7j5-ADih7t1jDmdTpKgU9b1I3UKjyGrRfMJTcsns_qGY3rIXQR40OLSb_Wrg/w691-h561/23.jpg" width="691" /></a><br /> </p><p> </p><p>The best part for me? The appetizers. Fried stuffed zucchini flowers and melty cheeses, artichokes done in the old Jewish style, eggplant smothered in sauce. (No complaints about the pasta either!)</p><p><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3WKZ58hnrM3g6vCdqRzQO-xoAFwONFW_W1fV0KqCquYLUEfsi63U-CJkdrkeGC7DUNJaXNsM9DVEhFMjuVG6ny7X2eebP0pblC1hythT52p8-KRZv3hU8X51_tc471MoWG3BJczqZHJTyDz2ivUSdY58UGNIitkNcR2PbW5K6shj7nIN0gAadA/s4416/24.jpg"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3WKZ58hnrM3g6vCdqRzQO-xoAFwONFW_W1fV0KqCquYLUEfsi63U-CJkdrkeGC7DUNJaXNsM9DVEhFMjuVG6ny7X2eebP0pblC1hythT52p8-KRZv3hU8X51_tc471MoWG3BJczqZHJTyDz2ivUSdY58UGNIitkNcR2PbW5K6shj7nIN0gAadA/w416-h277/24.jpg" width="416" /></a><br /><p><br /></p><p>It's very late by the time we get back to our respective night posts. We have big plans for tomorrow that start early, so goodnight for now, from a not so stormy Rome! </p><p><br /></p>ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01222848486174278888noreply@blogger.com0