Dinner Is Served!

Mmmm... mmmm... delicious!

My Halloween Tree

Day 67: Monday, October 5, 2009

The day was both tedious and long. We pretty much did schoolwork for the entire day! I was about to explode, and tension in the house was running high due to all the deskwork. I wasn’t in the best of moods, so I couldn’t blame the children for their foul tempers either! So… to pull myself out of the mire, I decided to cook dinner! I didn’t have a whole lot of options for distraction, but it ended up being the best one possible. James offered to help, so I immediately put him to work. Once I got started, my mood changed immediately and much for the better! On the menu was the following… meat and cheese stuffed tortellini, local sausages, and my secret recipe spinach. James and I sliced, we diced, we julienned! Fresh ingredients abounded, and in the end, James said that that was the best spinach he had ever had. Well, that was all I needed to hear! The voices of the muses whispered softly in my ear.

I went on a walk and found some bright orange berries with which to decorate the table, and I immediately thought of Dallas. I have been missing my Fall in Dallas; it is truly my favorite season, and I will have to go without it entirely this year. In the midst of my sadness, I decided to bring Fall to Tuscany, and here it was encapsulated in these bright pumpkin jewels. On I went to see what additional treasures I could discover or unearth, and it just so happened that I stumbled upon this tree (pictured above) as well. It took my breath away. It is the only tree that I have seen so far whose leaves have changed color. So I have claimed the tree as my own, and I will visit it daily and think of Dallas in the Fall until we leave Tuscany! Silly, I know, but I miss my trees changing colors, and I know that I will miss all that the changing of the leaves announces, like the coming of Halloween, the approach of Thanksgiving, cool, crisp mornings, and dry leaves blowing across yards and streets. No costumes and no turkey for me this year, but I will have my little tree and my orange berries for a few days more.

On my way back to the villa, I picked some evergreen and dressed the center of the table with nature’s simple glories. Candles were lit. Wine was poured, and the food was served. It ended up being a glorious dinner.

Afterwards, we all went out to play tennis in the dark. I had discovered the secret location of the overhead court lights. It was so beautiful to play tennis at night with the fullness of the moon overhead and the silhouette of the mountains behind. After being cooped up all day, the kids went crazy. We were all being quite silly. None of us could really hit the ball well, if we could hit it at all! There was more laughter than anything else. Finally, when we were all tuckered out, I came in, drew another outrageously out-of-control bubble bath, and fell asleep with smile on my face. There is nothing that good food, good fun, and good giggles can repair.

Tennis Anyone?

An olive grove up the hill

Day 66: Sunday, October 4, 2009

So I thought that I had my act together, but good planning has a way of smacking one square in the face. At 11:30 we rolled out of the driveway for 12:00 Mass at the Cathedral. We got there at 11:52 – great. But not so great. The 900-year-old Cathedral sits right smack in the middle of old Arezzo, which is still surrounded by its original protective Medieval wall and still lined with miles of hand-laid cobblestone streets. And because the town is as old as it is, the streets are wickedly narrow and parking is nonexistent. Okay. My search for parking meant exiting the city, circling its perimeter, re-entering it, finding a tiny spot a mile away, parking on an uphill slope, praying that the parking job was legal and that the car would still be there when we got back, and, literally, hiking to Mass. All in all, we walked through the doors at 12:18, so like I said, so much for good planning.

Back at home there was much schoolwork to be done, and it was, but after noticing the kids squirming in their seats, and the despondent glaze descend over their vacant eyes, I knew a change in the compass direction was needed. I raided the storage shed and procured tennis rackets and a tube of tennis balls. We all needed to get the blood moving again and the energy zipping. What fun! As soon as we hit the courts, the children were resurrected into their jovial selves like water to a parched plant. Instead of competitive tennis, we simply volleyed the ball back and forth as many times as we could without interruption. When John and I went solo, our record was twenty-two volleys. At one point Tori asked John (after she had been inside for a while) if I were any good, and he said, “Yeah. Actually, she’s really good – especially for an adult.” Ahh! That made me laugh out loud. Out f the mouths of babes. It’s funny what they tell me sometimes, because of the way they view adults. Once before, John told me that I wasn’t really an adult. Why not? I asked. “Because you’re more like a kid. I mean technically you’re old enough to be an adult, but you’re not old like adults. You still have fun, and you don’t talk like an adult. You’re not boring.” It may not be the words you would find on a Hallmark card, but they were music to my ears nonetheless! (I think that being an “adult” is overrated, too, John!)

Finally, after tennis and when these “old” bones and muscles of mine were feeling the many years since I had last played tennis, I decided to take a bubble bath, my first since I had arrived in Tuscany. Oddly enough, I had noticed that it was a Jacuzzi tub! Oh my stars, was I ever excited! I started drawing the water and put in what I thought would be the right amount of bubble bath. I got in, sighed in complete and utter happiness, hit the button for the jets, and laid back to soak it all in, that is until… I opened my eyes to see the blanket of bubbles growing before my eyes. And it was growing fast! The bubbles were multiplying exponentially! Steadily, they were rising, rising, rising. A wall of bubbles grew to my chin, then my nose, then my eyebrows. It literally rose above my head. I started to panic (and laugh at the same time)! I opened the glass door above the side of the tub, and a huge mountain of bubbles descended over the side. For the next twenty minutes, all I did was try to beat the bubbles into submission. It was an exhausting task, as they are quite insistent! Finally, I refilled the bath and put only a few drops of bubble bath into the mix. Perfecto.

After my peculiar bath, I took a walk outside in my robe and slippers to watch the moon. The scent of lavender directed me to a fresh patch of the flowers. By moonlight, I clipped a few of their heads, returned to my room, and rubbed their oils into my bed pillow. My goodness! The scent of lavender filled the whole of my bedroom, and my pillow smelled like fields in Heaven. I ran over to Tori’s room and offered to do the same for her linens. The fact that she was delighted, delighted me all the more. I now know of one more essential flower for my garden when I get back home. Sweet flowers promise even sweeter dreams.

I Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Baby, So Kiss Me, Because Girls Just Want To Have Fun!

An evening in Tuscany

Day 65: Saturday, October 3, 3009

Today I went into town for an extra special treat. Dannie scheduled a manicure and pedicure for me! This marks only the second one that I have ever had in my life. The other special treat was the opportunity to drive into town by myself! This naturally equates to pulling my hair up into a clip, positioning my sunglasses perfectly across the bridge of my nose, and lowering the windows until they disappear into the doors. I couldn’t wait to feel the wind whipping through the car as I descended from the hills into town. It was exhilarating! I arrived right on time for my 3:00 appointment and entered the small salon.

The salon was nothing fancy, it was more like converted rooms in a house. Good. I didn’t feel much like putting on airs. The lady who did my pedicure only spoke Italian, so conversation was pretty much nil, but it was relaxing, and it was enjoyable. Next, it was time for the manicure, so I moved to the front of the salon, where a beautiful young lady named Susanna was waiting for me. I had seen her the day before when Dannie made the appointment, and the good news was, she did speak some English. We got to talking right away. Then I discovered that she also spoke some Spanish. This opened up all kinds of doors, and between Spanish and English we covered all the basics: she was single, 26-years-old, had a boyfriend from Naples who was not in the Mafia, her mother owned the salon, she was an only child, etc. Her mother joined the conversation as did the lady that did my pedicure. I would speak in English and Spanish, and Susanna would translate for her mother and the other lady. It was perfectly awesome! It felt like I was at Truvey’s Beauty Salon from Steel Magnolias. I was the only person in the salon, so we were yapping until the cows came home. Susanna’s mother got me coffee and water, and honestly, I felt like a member of the family. Because I no longer have sandals (they were mercilessly worn down to the ground), I had had to wear socks and tennis shoes to the salon. I was trying to put them back on ever so carefully with my newly painted nails, when Susanna’s mother got right down on the floor and put my socks and shoes on for me! She even tied my laces extra tight, just like a mother would! I thought that was so terribly endearing. When I left, reluctantly, there was a part of me that wanted to open my own home-style salon. Good people. Good times.

Next I ran by the grocery store and picked up a few items for Dannie, and then it was only I and the road! Hair up, sunglasses in place, windows out of sight, and then… HEY! What about some music?! There’s nothing like driving with good music on. Now, my expectations were not high; an accordion would have done me good, but then I flipped through the stations and discovered… Barry White: I Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Baby! I was so excited! I started belting out the words, trying to lower my voice to that deep baritone of his. I couldn’t believe my luck. How fun. Song over. Switching of channels. Ahha! I caught the very first note of the The Cranberries’ Kiss Me. Ohh! And let me tell you, there was singing, and it was loud! The wind was whistling through the car, and the sun was just beginning to get tired and think about going to bed. It couldn’t have been any more perfect. I was grinning from ear to ear, feeling free as a bird, when I hit the jackpot: Cyndi Lauper and Girls Just Want To Have Fun! HELLO! My personal anthem! A billion memories of the good ‘ol days flooded me in an instant. I shouted every word of that song as I smiled with the recollections of a bygone era and a silly redheaded girl who fully lived every word of that song to the fullest. I wanted to go back to those carefree days and live them over again. Things seemed simpler, purer. I vowed right then to reintroduce that footloose and fancy-free girl to the world again.

A Little Bit of This and a Little Bit of That

The heart and soul of Italy

The vineyard adjacent to our villa

Day 64: Friday, October 2, 2009

For whatever reason, I woke up at 6:30 this morning! At first I was annoyed, but then I was delighted! There is something magical about waking up before anyone else in a sleeping house. Quiet as a mouse I arose from my bed being ever so careful to avoid the three planks of wood in my bedroom floor that creak to the high heavens! I tiptoed downstairs and brewed a pot of coffee. Once made, I poured a steaming cup of java and snuck outside, where I climbed a hill, sat down among the wildflowers and watched the sun inch its way up the horizon and above the undulating purple line of distant hills. I immediately felt refreshed and invigorated.

Dan left early this morning for Hong Kong and will not return until the 9th of October. After schoolwork, Dannie and I went into to town to do some grocery shopping. Now this should have been a fairly simple task; however, because we couldn’t figure out what anything was, the job tripled in time (at least). We still weren’t entirely sure what we had bought until we were able to unpack everything at home and see! It was a bit like fishing for surprise grab bags at a children’s carnival. We were hoping to have sour cream for baked potato night, but none of the three items Dannie bought ended up being what we had wanted! Oh well, c’est la vie.

After studies and later in the evening, the Tuscan night beckoned to me. I walked a hill just in time to see the moon rise. This was no ordinary moon, either. It was the clearest, purest moon that I had ever seen in its fullest. The moon’s marias were perfectly defined, but it’s whiteness was brighter and purer than any white I have ever seen. The only word that comes to mind is crystalline. I was completely taken by its beauty. Behind me the Tuscan hills were dramatically outlined by the evening sky, such that each one appeared distinct and uniquely defined by a certain shade of deep purple or blue. The beauty of both scenes was so glorious that my eyes wrestled with my desire to see them both simultaneously. Back and forth I gazed at each for lengthy periods of time. Finally, I returned indoors and joined the family in watching Gladiator. It seemed a fitting film to watch, having just recently seen the Coliseum. All in all, it was the stolen moments of the day, lived to the fullest in moments of solitude that graced my day, such that the night was spent in pleasant dreaming.

Under the Tuscan Sun

The view from the back of the villa

The pool of our villa

The front of our villa in Arezzo, Tuscany

The second story patio

A view found on my hike

Day 63: Thursday, October 1, 2009

After studies, the children and Dan walked to a local vineyard and helped harvest the grapes for about three hours. Although that is something that I would normally do in a heartbeat, my overwhelming inclination was to just stay home and enjoy the darkness of my room for a little while. When they returned, I went for a walk by myself. I found a little path and simply enjoyed every view that each subsequent step afforded me. Tuscany is blissfully beautiful. There are so many different kinds of foliage that I have never seen before and wildflowers whose bonny faces I do not yet know. I walked the same path several times, trying to decide which vantage point was best, but it was all to no avail. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and I beheld, and beheld, and beheld. I was envious of those who live here, those who live in peace, serenity, solitude, and who are steeped in beauty. What a gift. What a grace. What a God-send. I shall be grateful for the time that is mine.

A Papal Farewell!

Pope Benedict XVI at the Papal Audience

The Papal Audience in Rome

Day 62: Wednesday, September 30, 2009

I awakened to my last morning in Rome, and yet again, good fortune was on my side! The whole time I had been in Rome, Pope Benedict XVI had either been in his summer residence, Castel Gandolfo, or in the Czech Republic. But this, on my last morning, he was in Rome, and I had my papal audience tickets in hand, having procured them from the Swiss Guards the day before. I arrived at St. Peter’s about an hour before the audience and grabbed a seat. For the next hour I wrote a journal entry and tried to block out the incessant cackling of the million loud and obnoxious Italian women clucking around me. Their voices grated on my ears and stomped upon my sense of proper public decorum. Ughh! They are so loud and rude!

Finally, the pope arrived and drove through the crowds in his Pope Mobile, only, unlike John Paul II, Benedict XIV does keep the protective glass around his car. He waved to and blessed the crowds amid much singing and cheering. Finally, all were seated for the day’s readings and gospel and to listen to his weekly reflection. Sadly, it was in Italian only. Afterwards, the various cardinals introduced the numerous groups in attendance and from which countries they hailed. Eventually, the pope addressed the English-speaking attendants in the crowd. At last! My time had come. I was able to stay for another thirty minutes, but had to leave in order to make it to the train on time. I hailed a taxi and prayed that he would be honest! We have had terrible luck with dishonest cabbies throughout this whole trip. Apparently, I picked a good one, because he got me to Termini on time and within reason! I thanked him profusely, ran inside, retrieved my stored luggage and met the family exactly when I said I would!

The next thing I knew, we were on the train heading for Tuscany, where we were scheduled to spend the next ten days! Two hours later we arrived in the gorgeous town of Arezzo. Dan had secured us a private villa tucked away up in the hills, and because we would be staying about twenty-five minutes outside of town, we picked up a rental car, which I would have to drive the whole time because Dannie is rusty on her manual transmission skills! Of course, I was thrilled, because driving equates freedom for me, just as it does back home (I am SO missing my car).

After a bit, we drove to the villa, and my breath was taken away. Our villa is old and still has its original timber trusses in the ceilings and terra cotta tiles on the roof. The floors are also made of terra cotta tiles and dark wooden shutters line every window. Although much of the villa is original, it has been masterfully restored and modernized. I chose my bedroom, quickly unpacked my luggage, and went exploring. We have our own personal swimming pool and full-size tennis courts! Better yet, though, is the solitude. I was craving silence more than anything after all the hustle, bustle, and incessant noise in Rome. Here, there are a million little paths, fields as far as the eye can see, vineyards everywhere, and dozens of olive groves. The promise of rest and relaxation rings out everywhere here, and I fully intend to answer its call!

It All Comes Together!

Close-up of Bernini's columns in the Basilica of St. Peter

The view from our villa in the evening

The Roman Forum

Close-up of Bernini's Fountain of the Four Rivers in Piazza Navona

Day 61: Tuesday, September 29, 2009

I came into town for my last full day in Rome. I dropped off my suitcase in Termini Station for storage. Armed with only my backpack and purse, I headed for Kiron’s in hopes that I could leave my backpack there. Unfortunately, neither she nor her roommates were home. Fortunately, the door to her building, which is always locked, was standing wide open! I had remembered that she had mentioned that there was a basement for storage. I found the staircase leading down into the dark, dank bowels of the old building. It was beyond creepy! Among the many locked closets, I found a small open area used to store rotting wood and construction supplies. I inched my way to the back, where it was black as night and felt around for a hiding place. I couldn’t believe my good fortune! I said a quick prayer that my bag would still be there upon my return!

After depositing my bag, I headed out to meet the nuns to pick up Jerome’s rosary. Sister was just tying on the crucifix as I entered the store – yet again, perfect timing. The smiles and friendliness of Sr. Estella and Sr. Maria warmed my heart to the core immediately. Sr. Estella was beaming with pride as she showed me her handiwork. She placed in my hands the six and a half foot long rosary, which took her eight hours to complete! It cost a small fortune, but Sr. Estella was emphatic in telling me that she made it with much love. And I KNOW that she did. The nuns and I made our goodbyes – the moment was laced with a tinge of sadness. They were quick to give me heartfelt hugs, which I returned in kind. Sr. Estella passed me her e-mail and asked me to keep in touch, which I certainly will do. She said that she wanted to know the progress of all the prayers she would be offering for me. This just about killed me. I don’t think that two lovelier ladies could be found anywhere in all of Rome. They just don’t make people like that anymore!

I ran by the Vatican to pick up an admittance ticket for the Papal Audience scheduled for the next day (one of the Swiss guards gave it to me personally – thrilling!). I left to meet Kiron at her apartment after finding a second gift for my niece, Katherine. We chatted for a bit and then left for a party at an American bar held for ex-patriots. Steadily, more and more people drifted in. What was amazing to me was how extraordinarily open and friendly everybody was! Where had all these people come from? Where had they all been hiding? Complete strangers approached me throughout the night, introduced themselves to me, and effortlessly eased into the most natural conversations. I spoke with people from all parts of Italy, Argentina, Jordan, France, Germany, Spain, and, of course, the States (including one girl from Austin, a fellow Texan – hallelujah!).

After a few hours, Kiron and I returned to her apartment, where mercifully, my bag was still safely in hiding! It wasn’t long before the weariness of the day washed over me, and the two of us were fast asleep; however, while fighting off exhaustion, I poured over the many beautiful places I had visited in this lovely city and the many beautiful people whom I had met as well. In the end, Rome was all that I had remembered it to be, hoped it to be, and needed it to be. The Eternal City will forever be my second home. For now, my task is to find the first.

Surprising Answers, Surprising Questions!

From left to right, I, a visiting nun, Sr. Maria Juan Paula, and Sr. Estella

Castel San Angelo

The bridge near Castel San Angelo

Atop one of the bridges next to Castel San Angelo

Piazza Navona at Night

Day 60: Monday, September 28, 2009

Rise and shine! Mama mia! It was hard to get up at 6:15 in order to make the train back to Montebello, but made it I did. I showered and was ready to start school by 8:30. I miraculously taught my classes until 1:30 and was in Rome by 2:00. Although I was tempted to stay behind and sleep, I had a date with the nuns at 2:30 and made it to their store at 2:25 sharp. There sitting on the counter was the almost-complete ivory rosary. I couldn’t believe it! It was truly beautiful. Sister Estella had deliberately not finished it, because she was waiting to see if I would like it, and if I did, how I would like to finish it. There was no question – I wanted it! I loved it! I chose the finishing pieces and hand selected the sterling silver crucifix. I watched her as her clever and deft fingers finished the detailed work. The whole time the three of us (Sr. Maria John Paula had joined our jovial soiree) told stories and laughed. Sr. Estella kept telling me that she was going to be a saint for doing all this under so much pressure and that her time in Purgatory was being spent as we spoke! She couldn’t have been more adorable.

In the midst of one of my stories, a lady’s voice chimed in from across the store (in English). Although her comment was made in passing, I invited her to join in on the conversation. I told her my life story, and she told me hers (too personal to share here). Within that one hour, there was a tremendous amount of bonding, and I loved every minute of it. I showed her the ivory rosary that Sr. had made for me and the beginning of the rosary she was making for Jerome. Tara, in turn, purchased several small rosaries for friends back home in California. Finally, Sr. Estella reminded me that I needed to get a crucifix for Jerome’s rosary, as they did not have a suitable one in the store. I spoke with Tara for a few minutes more as we were steeped in a very personal and serious conversation. At that point we decided to exchange e-mail addresses to keep in touch. I had really enjoyed meeting her and wanted to know how some important developments in her life panned out. She had expressed the same interest regarding me. After making my goodbyes, I left the store in search of the cross, but FIRST… I returned to the internet café, where lo and behold, there was my sacred flash drive – safe and sound on the attendant’s desk – just waiting for me to pick it up. I was so excited to find it, that when the attendant handed it to me, I actually hugged him! He didn’t speak a word of English, but I think that he clearly understood how happy and relieved I was to have it back in my hands.

Grinning from ear to ear, I made my way to Kiron’s to check on the plans for the evening. We decided that I would meet her in Piazza Navona at 7:30 and walk to the Irish bar for pub trivia. After that, I went on my search for the Holy Grail – Jerome’s cross. I must have gone into thirty different stores but could not find one to my satisfaction. Finally, three hours after I had left Sr. Estella, I returned to the store empty-handed. Sr. Maria offered to find me a cross herself (she would check their convent for one). I readily took her up on her offer. Then a strange look spread across her face. I was intrigued. She told me that she had something for me. I was completely baffled. I followed her over to the counter, from which she pulled out a package and handed it to me. Her smile was beaming at this point, and she told me to open it. There was a note. I pulled it out and read it. It was from Tara, and although its contents will remain private, part of it read how much she had enjoyed meeting me and wanted me to have a rosary of my own made by the nuns. She saw how much I had liked my father’s ivory rosary, and she wanted me to have a smaller and simpler version of it. Sr. Maria told her that they had had only one, which Tara had already purchased. Tara asked Sr. Maria if she could make me another, which she did during the three hours I was gone. In fact, Sister had just placed the finished rosary in the package when I had walked through the door! I pulled out the little ivory rosary and started crying. I couldn’t get over what a beautiful gesture and note a perfect stranger had left me. I was truly humbled.

The store was due to close, so I said goodnight to the nuns and promised to return the next day to pick up Jerome’s rosary. I left the store on Cloud 9. I couldn’t have been happier. I no longer felt the least bit tired, despite my lack of sleep. All felt right in the world. Tara’s, Sr. Estella’s, and Sr. Maria’s charity and kindness filled me with joy. I simply couldn’t contain myself, so I set off for a walk along the Tiber River. Nothing could spoil my delight in life – even that filthy river seemed beautiful to me! I crossed back and forth over its many bridges and took pictures of the numerous statues that line them as they were bathed in the evening’s blushing colors. I ended my tour at Castel San Angelo and decided to head toward Piazza Navona.

Because I arrived there early, I headed into a church and prayed my first rosary on my precious ivory beads, offering the prayers for the beautiful women with whom I had spent my afternoon. Afterwards, I walked my favorite piazza, drinking in the cool evening air. The sky’s colors shifted quickly, from a rosy mauve to a deep violet blue. Once it was dark enough, the bright quarter moon winked at me, and I winked right back. I circled the central fountain and watched the many couples walking by. Eventually, Kiron arrived, and we headed for the pub. I was added to the team (although I didn’t prove to be that much help), enjoyed a beer and the company of Kiron’s Irish, English, and American friends, but had to leave early to make my train. It was a thirty minute power walk to the metro, where I arrived three minutes before my train’s departure (whew!). All in all, this was an amazing day. Nothing monumental occurred, except for the spending of ordinary time with extraordinary people. I couldn’t have asked (or dreamed) for anything more. Blessings come when (and from where) you least expect them.

A Double Date!

Tori and I on the train from Montebello

My beloved St. Theresa in Ecstasy

Francesco and I after coffee

You can never fully escape The Hard Rock Cafe!

Day 59: Sunday, September 27, 2009

This morning we readied ourselves for another full day in Rome. We began with Mass in English (yippee skippee!) at Santa Susana, a seventeen hundred-year-old church! After Mass the church hosted a coffee and donut breakfast – not too shabby! Bellies satisfied and as luck would have it, directly across the street was Santa Maria della Vittoria, the church which is home to my FAVORITE sculpture of all time – Bernini’s Saint Therese in Ecstasy! I couldn’t wait to see her again! Once I opened the massive doors, I deliberately guarded my eyes until I knew that I was directly in front of her. I reverently lifted my head, and there SHE was – in all her glory! No picture does her justice, nor could it. I cannot get over how the marble folds of her dress really look light as air. The weight of the statue must be enormous; yet she seems as though she is floating. I examined every detail of the statue: her slightly parted lips, her gently closed eyelids, her fingers perfectly relaxed across her abdomen. I dared not even whisper, lest I disturb her – so realistic is her posture. If the church were only a tiny bit quieter, I would expect to hear her breathing. It was difficult to leave that statue; I could have kept it vigil for hours longer, but it was time to get lunch with the family and Mass was about to start in the church. As Shakespeare rightly said, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

After we had lunch in a little restaurant, I left the family to check the internet café for my flash drive, but alas, the café was closed on Sundays. Oh well, at least I knew it was safe for the day – if it were still there! I returned to the café, and Dan, Dannie, and I decided to grab a beer and discuss the children’s progress while they used the computers at an internet café nearby. We hadn’t talked long when an older man sitting at the next table asked if we were Americans. We all gritted our teeth, because Americans are not as well received as they used to be in Europe. Of course, we were honest. Much to our surprise, the man wanted to thank us in honor of all Americans. What? Why? Whatever did he mean? He told us it was the Americans who had saved his life during World War II. Although Leonardo didn’t remember the incident personally because he had been too young at the time, his mother made him promise never to forget that the American soldiers had saved him and her from starvation by feeding them wheat and milk when they were on the brink of destruction after Italy’s liberation. Then… he began to cry, so great was his sincerity. Dan, Dannie, and I were humbled beyond belief.

Our conversation continued, and the subject discussed was WWII. This gentleman could quote every possible statistic regarding the war and the death tolls suffered by every participating country. We thanked him for his support of America, and he replied by saying how important it was to remember past tragedies to prevent the repeating of them and how important it was to remember past kindnesses to prevent the forgetting of them. He spoke so passionately, so sincerely, that there was little we could say or do. Eventually, Dan had to leave with the children to meet up with Kiron for another tour. Dannie and I stayed behind and continued to speak with Leonardo. He excused himself for a minute and returned with a carafe of white wine to share with us. He toasted us, and we toasted him. It was both an honor and a privilege to have met such a gracious man.

After the wine, Dannie left for an internet café, and I left to explore the area. Shortly thereafter, Francesco called me and asked if I could meet him for coffee. He had been studying for one of his classes and was wanting a break. Twenty minutes later I met him in the Piazza Republica. Our visit was brief, as he had to return to his studies, but it was a nice diversion for the both of us. Today’s conversation was much more lighthearted as laughter seemed to dominate the mood. We had a very nice time, and it was a real pleasure to have seen him again. After saying goodbye to Francesco, I headed out for Piazza Barberini, located in a slightly ritzier neighborhood. Because it was Sunday, there was little I could do; most of the shops and restaurants were closed. Instead, I decided to just go exploring by walking. I found a nice neighborhood and strolled up and down its streets. But before I knew it, I was surrounded by buildings with bars on all the windows, broken windows, and gang graffiti eight feet up the walls. Trash littered the streets, and no one was to be seen. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so safe, and everything in me told me to turn around and get out of there as quickly as I could. Since I promised myself that I would follow my instincts on this trip, I did as I was told. I don’t know if anything would have happened, but it was definitely better to be safe rather than sorry!

Soon after it was time to meet up with the family for dinner. The restaurant’s address was within twenty minutes walking of where I was. I arrived five minutes before our scheduled time. Much to my surprise and delight, Dan had invited Kiron to join us for dinner. Kiron, too, had been a graduate of UD, and so we all shared stories of our glory days. After dinner I asked Kiron if she were free to stay with me and have a drink somewhere. The family left for Montebello, and I told them that I would take the 10:20 train back, the second to last one scheduled for the day. Kiron and I found an outdoor restaurant and had a drink. It was so refreshing to be out at night again with a peer! Once we started talking, we couldn’t seem to stop. There was so much to say, so much to catch up on. Even though Kiron and I never knew each other very well, we knew a lot of the same people from back in the day. Before I knew it, it was time to take the metro to the train station to head back to Montebello. I parted ways with Kiron, and she invited me to join her the next night for pub trivia at an Irish bar and to go to a party with her the following night. I immediately agreed to both, and my heart soared with the joy of having plans for the next two nights out.

BUT…

I made it to the train station on time; however, the lovely, reliable, Italian transportation system randomly cancelled the last two trains back to Montebello, which meant I had NO way back to our villa, which was a good thirty-five minute drive away (about a $75.00 taxi ride). I called Kiron and asked her if I could stay with her for the night. Absolutely. I called Dan and told him the news, and he was neither surprised nor upset, so I hopped the metro toward Kiron’s (thank heaven that I still had my fabulous McDonald’s map) and walked to her place without incident. We ended up talking until about 1:15 in the morning. I felt exactly like I did when I was much younger and would spend the night at a friend’s house. The only thing different was that we didn’t do each other’s hair! Not withstanding that, I couldn’t have been more thankful for the presence of a friend, a warm bed, and safe quarters for the night. Lesson learned: don’t believe everything you read – including official printed train schedules clearly posted in public areas of transportation stations. Apparently, they are only there for decoration.

Roamin’ Rome!

Ceiling of Pantheon

Piazza Navona

The Trevi Fountain

The Vittorio Emanuel Monument

The Roman Forum with the Vittorio Emanuel Monument in the background

Homemade pizza at the villa with Dan, Francesco, John, and I

The Coliseum

Day 58: Saturday, September 26th

Today was exhausting! I literally walked for miles upon miles. We left the villa for Rome at 9:00 in the morning. Dannie, Tori, and I headed for the salon. Dannie was treating the three of us to a manicure and pedicure, a welcomed treat for these worn out feet. When we arrived at the salon, however, there was a problem. They had only scheduled a manicure and pedicure for one person. After much discussion, they were able to work in two people, but that meant that I was out of luck (my choice), and so off I went to find something else to do. I simply picked a direction and started walking.

Fortunately, I happened to literally run into the Pantheon, one of the places I had actually wanted to re-visit. The dome of that massive church is terribly oppressive, but in fact, it was designed to be so. Originally having been a pagan temple, anyone who entered was supposed to feel small and insignificant beneath the statues of the mighty gods and goddesses leering overhead. Of course, now it is a Catholic church filled with Christian statues instead. Directly across from the Pantheon was a McDonald’s. Yes! I stooped to that level! I decided that, since I was five days behind on writing my daily journal entries, I should write one day’s journal at each place I visited throughout the day. The first of the five was written at that McDonald’s (alongside an order of Chicken McNuggets, medium fries, and an Orange Fanta).

After the Pantheon I decided to visit Piazza Navona, my favorite piazza in all of Rome. Just as I arrived, the bridal party of a wedding was exiting the main church on the square. I stood among all the guests to witness the bride and groom’s exit from the church. Rice was thrown, and I applauded their entrance onto the square along with the crowd. A huge bang erupted, and confetti filled the sky. I proceeded to circle the central fountain and walk among all the artists to see their drawings and paintings. Serious and comical works filled the various stands. I stopped to watch an artist draw a caricature of his victim, but then moved on. Suddenly, beautiful and sad strains of music caught my ear. I followed the notes to a young woman playing an accordion. I was immediately taken with her music. I decided that this was the spot to write my second journal entry. As the keys clicked away, my heart lightened to the tunes of La Vie en Rose and the theme to the Godfather.

Picking up from there I headed to the Trevi Fountain, the quintessential fountain in Rome. I bought a drink, sat down on the steps, and watched all the people snapping photographs and throwing coins in the famous fountain. This was the site for my third journal entry of the day. After I had finished it, I took my turn at luck and threw my own coin in along with my wish.

I decided to throw caution to the wind and blindly walk. As luck would have it, I walked into one store, and one store only, and just happened to find exactly what I had planned on buying my niece, Katherine, for her Christmas present. It was perfect, and it was on sale, too! Onward I walked until I ran into the Vittorio Emanuel building. I remembered that it had been nicknamed “The Typewriter” as well as “The Wedding Cake” because of its pure white layered and columned façade. There was a shady park adjacent to the monument, so I decided to escape the heat and sit under a tree for a little while to rest my tired legs and burdened shoulders. Thus, we have arrived at the fourth site of journal writing. The feeling of accomplishment was growing!

At that point I decided to take the metro back and sit in a café until it was time to meet up with the family. BUT… on my way to the metro, I happened upon the Roman Forum, the site of the ancient ruins of the imperial Senate. I couldn’t exactly pass that up! So I strolled through the ruins, imagining what it must have looked like in all its glory. I imagined the long togas and leather sandals, the curled coifed hair of the women and their gold serpentine jewelry.

I could hear the shouting of the politicians, the theorizing of the philosophers, the chanting of pagan worship, and the cursing of the neglected beggars. What a different time and place this must have been, a strange one, but a beautiful one, too. Polished marble columns gleamed in the moonlight. Perfect archways stretched their backs into the sky in support of their mighty loads. Colossal statues of bronze statesmen glared down upon the passing plebeians. Water endlessly flowed through the miles and miles of aqueducts and playfully shot from the spouts of a plethora of fountains. Although I could not actually see any of this before me, I could sense it, and I could imagine it, and I would have given anything to step within the boundaries of this imaginary painting.

A bus screeched its brakes behind me slapping me back into reality. Time to move on. As soon as I returned to the main road, I looked up to see the Coliseum standing directly in front of me. How convenient. I didn’t go inside this time, I remember it perfectly from my last visit, but I did walk the entirety of its stone perimeter. Its size and circumference are staggering. Completed in 80 A.D., it held upwards of 50,000 people, fifty thousand people who craved for, who lived for, who demanded their entertainment, the few hours that provided them just enough distraction to keep civil upheaval at bay. Bread and circuses. Food and entertainment. Not so different from what we crave today; only the menu has changed.

It was hard for me to imagine the thousands of lives lost under the guise of “entertainment.” How could the tearing of flesh, the burning of bodies, the stench of melting skin, the destruction of one man at the hands of another, satiate, rather than nauseate the human sensibilities? How could death and destruction play the role of court jester so well? How was man so easily deceived, so morally and ethically depraved? I shuddered to think about the depths of decline to which man is capable of debasing himself. That’s all of the Coliseum that I needed to see.

On that note, it was definitely time to head back home, or so I thought and planned. The main metro, bus, and train station in Rome is Termini, and I was right next to it. Easy, right? Oh no! The red line, the one I needed to use to get to my train station, was completely shut down. No more service for the day! What was a girl to do? I was too far away to walk, so… I walked over to the buses and read over their various destinations until I found one that I recognized – the Vatican. Perfect. I hopped it, and there for the next thirty minutes, I wrote my fifth and final journal entry for the day, being only briefly distracted by the crying baby beside me and the Romans’ aversion to personal hygiene, which translates into a disdain for the use of deodorant.

I finally made it home after many more transportation issues. I was completely exhausted from all that I had seen and done throughout the day. I would gladly have gone to sleep for the night right then and there, if Wendy had not set me up for a “blind date” of sorts. Yes, on the very first day that we had arrived at the villa and she had discovered that I was single, she called her friend Francesco, who agreed to meet me this very night. All I knew about Francesco was that he was thirty-seven-years-old, was working on his doctorate in space engineering, and was known for his hearty laugh. Wendy had planned to make homemade pizza for dinner in her outdoor pizza oven, which is quite a time-consuming process. So, I propped my weary head on my hand and willed my eyelids to stay open.

Eventually, Francesco arrived, and we all meshed together perfectly. He, Dan, and I mostly talked together. He was extremely easy to talk to, and his hearty laugh did not disappoint! The pizza and various local wines were served on the patio, all while the evening sunset graced the Italian skyline, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. But then… I mentioned to Francesco that I had accidentally left my flash drive in a computer of an internet café while posting my journal entries earlier in the day. He asked me if I had any personal information stored on it. I honestly replied that I couldn’t remember. He suddenly jumped up and offered to take me into Rome to see if we could retrieve the flash drive right then and there. By this time it was nine o’clock, and I couldn’t believe that I had stayed up this late given that I could have gone to sleep two hours before! I thanked him profusely, but declined the offer. Francesco insisted! Danny knew how tired I was and ran into the villa to get a blanket and a pillow! She threw them in his car and told me to sleep on the way there or sleep on the way back, but that I should definitely go to Rome (can you tell that she is a matchmaker?) Well, I couldn’t fight them both, so into Rome we went – a thirty to forty minute drive. Francesco and I talked nonstop.

Finally, we arrived at the café, and as expected, it was closed. Francesco asked me if I would like to get a cup of coffee. YES! That was exactly what I needed. We walked to a little bistro, sat outside and talked forever – about religion, politics, culture, and philosophy (all the things you are not supposed to!). A beer followed the coffee, and then we discussed our personal histories. Once the café closed, he asked if I felt up to taking a walk, which was the perfect suggestion, so we walked around the Vatican and back again while more stories – both humorous and serious – were exchanged. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, we returned to the villa and said our goodbyes. It was a most enjoyable evening with a most unusual Italian (not your normal slimy kind!). Although I never used the pillow and blanket in the car, I was anxious to use them at last! Good night, dear Rome, or should I say, “Good morning!”