Today's Laugh

Sometimes it's the little daily things that bring the best laughs. Like today. My neighbors for the most part don't speak English or speak very little. However, they get great enjoyment in proudly saying their few words to me or my husband whenever possible. Today, it's the birthday of one such neighbor. "Buon compleanno" we wished him. His face lit up! "Merry Christmas" he said confidently. "Happy birthday" we countered but chuckled throughout the day at his translation.

I wonder what we're saying that has our neighbors chuckling at us? Reminds me that it's good to not take myself too seriously and to go ahead and make mistakes. It gives the neighbors a good laugh!



The day is fine: the sea from our balcony in our neighborhood in our little corner of the world.

What's making you smile today?

Only in Italy!

We had a10K race in our town (Cittá Sant'Angelo) last evening, the first annual "Trophy of the Angels" race. A few background facts will be helpful to understand the ambitiousness of this race. Firstly, we've been having a heatwave lately so last evening at 6:30 it was 86 degrees (30 Celsius). Secondly, my town is at the top of a very steep hill which means most of the surrounding terrain is also hilly. Thirdly, I have never run a race in Italy up to now, only in the USA. And lastly, I didn't know about this race until shortly before it occurred.

Anyway, I was asked to participate by some neighbors at our local street festa three days ago. They've seen me running around town regularly and wanted someone to represent our neighborhood. "Sure" I said before I knew the race route or race particulars and figuring it was a little race for our town. Although the distance listed was 10K (6.2 miles), one of the organizers said it was only 9K (5.59 miles). Okay, that was my fist inkling that races in Italy are different. Also, it was difficult to get a consistent answer to the start time and I kept receiving a time range- "Between 7 and 7:30". Second inkling.

But off I went to the town last evening about 5:45 to be sure I had time to register and learn the route as well as the start time. In one of my many language misunderstandings, the registrar mentioned "il parco" to me and off I went to the park but found nothing was happening there. Hmmm. Turns out that each runner who finished the race received "il pacco" (Hey, I'm from Boston where we don't pronounce our "R's"!). More about "the parcel" later.

This was no little town run! There were 185 runners (33 women) and most were in teams or running clubs. They looked like serious runners.  I was one of the few "solo" runners registering at the last minute. But I knew I was in trouble when I heard the route! The first half was down hill which, of course, meant the entire second half of the race was up the aforementioned ridiculously steep hills. I do my shorter twice weekly runs around our town but my long run on the weekend is by the sea on a nice, wide, beautifully flat sidewalk. [Note to self: new mantra: hills are beautiful!] Re: the start time, I kept getting the same answer- between 7 and 7:30. I stayed closeby. Good thing- the race started at 6:35! Third inkling.

Nonetheless, off we went to the starting gun and the front runners were fast! I quickly became what I thought was the last runner, but since my goal was just to finish, I didn't mind. For most of the race I could at least see the two women who were ahead of me. I did become disconcerted, however, when the ambulance drove the whole race behind my left shoulder! Were they worried about me? I was worried too, would I really be able to make it? Did I mention that the hills were unrelentingly STEEP?

Well, I finished. And I wasn't last since there were two women way behind me. And even though I was third from the last, I was first for my age group. That's because I was the only woman over 65 running! I finished in 1:04:04. A respectable time considering the challenges. In announcing the winners of the various age groups and awarding prizes, they brought me up on stage for first in the 65 and over group but had no prize since they clearly weren't expecting anyone in that category! I truly didn't care though - the high point for me was receiving the applause of six of my neighbors who came to cheer me on.

Back to "il pacco." I went and received the parcel for finishers and our reward? Inkling number four: a bottle of red wine and a package of pasta. Only in Italy!

What is it that you love about where you live?

Roses in the Vineyards

This past weekend, in our little corner of the world, we had "Cantine Aperte" or Open Wineries to enjoy. About 40 wineries in our province of Abruzzo opened their doors for folks to come and sample their wines, their food and their hospitality. I went with my husband and some friends to see our beautiful countryside on glorious, clear, warm days and get to know the wines in our region better. 

Many of these wineries are family owned and handed father to son or daughter down the generations. Wines were shared proudly and information was given so that we could appreciate the subtleties we might miss otherwise. This grandfather, in business with his two daughters, posed with obvious pride with his granddaughter who gave us the tour of their winery and has decided to pursue their business as well. She was a delight.

They had items  showcasing their hands - on approach to wine making and aging in bottles rather than casks. Their label is added at the end by the 80 year old grandmother who first decants the wine to another bottle to eliminate any sediment. Now that's a family affair. I thought about how wonderful it is to have a business that the next generation can get excited about and work alongside elders while developing their own passion and expertise. 

One of the things I noticed as we went from winery to winery were the roses planted either at the end of each row of grapevines or, at least, in the vicinity. Do you know why these roses are planted in or near vineyards? It turns out that roses are susceptible, but more so, to the same type of fungus (powdery mildew and downy mildew) as the grapevines. If the roses show signs of disease, the vines are quickly treated (with sulfur or copper sulphate) lest they become infected, too. An elegant early warning system. Roses also attract beneficial insects that prey upon the insects that are harmful to the grapevines. Plus, of course, they're beautiful in their own right.

The soil and grapevines are monitored scientifically, nowadays, making the roses probably unnecessary and there are some who say that this tradition is based on a myth. But the tradition persists in some vineyards and certainly adds an extra touch of beauty. What a lovely tradition.

What a lovely weekend.

Friendship is The Wine of Life

I just had a reminder of the French saying: "L'amitie est le vin de la vie" which means "Friendship is the wine of life." Last evening, one of my neighbors, who was away, had a burst water pipe spewing water everywhere, including onto their downstair's neighbors' ceilings and walls. They, fortunately, were home and sounded the alarm for the rest of us to come help. So we did.

One neighbor shut off the water to the apartment and called the plumber (on a Sunday evening) who brought a large water vacuum and showed us how to use it. Two neighbors left a birthday party to help vacuum and mop up the water. Three other of us were on the mop and towel brigade to help get up all the standing water. We got the job done together. We've become friends in the almost two years we've lived here in our little apartment complex totaling 15 apartments in 3 buildings. We've shared food, parties and good times together. When an emergency struck, friends helped.

Friendship, like wine, sweetens life.

My Neighbor's Field

It really needs no introduction, I don't know the story behind it or quite how he did it, but this HUGE heart greeted our whole neighborhood and stayed for weeks as we drove down the hill:

It had everyone buzzing, speculating and smiling. It's amazing how we influence each other.