Near Hafling

Here are some pictures of our trip to Avelengo (called Hafling in German which thrills my hobbit soul).

It was referred to as “a welcoming embrace of green” on our train trip up there. And really that description fits better than anything. Mom and Dad were amazed at the number of apple orchards and we were constantly impressed by the clouds. Wish more of those pictures were taken. The dog in the picture with Luigi seemed to be guarding and greeting visitors at the St. Catherine’s church. He stopped to play with us and posed perfectly for me. Dad took some of these pictures on his hike up the hill (that he kept thinking would never end). And yes, mom caught me unexpectedly while I was wearing my new Buddy Holly glasses. At least it is good for a smile. (Just last night one of my friends asked me how the Big Bopper was doing.) Next time someone should go with me glasses shopping. More pictures later. Sorry some of them saved sideways, but I never could resolve the issue. Flip them at your own pace.

Isn’t it Friday?

So far (and it is 1:37 pm my time) I’ve only had a caramelized biscuit to eat. Food is waiting for me somewhere but it will have to keep waiting. Meeting with two Realtors (why is Realtor capitalized?) today in search of a 2 bedroom apartment. Looks like Angie may stay after all and then we’ll be roomies.

And I look like I’ve been boiled due to the heat. Swear it isn’t the sun, it is the heat making me red.

But stuff to do, homes to find, plans to hatch.  Caramelized biscuits to eat. (If you haven’t had one, it is really a very yummy graham cracker. Find them and enjoy.)

Have a good weekend! I’ll let you know if we find anything.

So little morning

This is another night time post. Earlier today I took a nap, so naturally am awake now. And reflective.

Last year seemed all about the morning. I would rise, go to my library, open it for students and send you all some tidbit of my life here. Discovery of self, and place, and life. Now, on the other side of this city and in the p.m of things, everything is different. Work load, living situation, friends, life. I hate complacency but perhaps take that to the extreme. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m discovering other than strength and persistence. Love, yes. And that does make it beautiful.

So, here is a little bit of sound for now. Someone just broke some glass which is only distinguishable from the buzzing of scooters because of its intermittent quality. Summer nights in Santo Spirito are loud, raucous events. Music in the piazza, but then a constant stream of chatter on the street. Chatter is better than the fights. The fights tend to wake me in the wee hours. And they create in me a need to use profanity. My windows are open to help with the heat, so everything is unfiltered. Live, from Via delle Caldaie, it’s Wednesday night . . . if only laughter would always follow.

But at least there is a bit of cooling down in the night. It soothes the skin and mind. So, let the city awaken me when it needs to. I’ll find the gift it is offering later.

A hesitant Florence Nightingale

The byproducts of America’s health system seem to have floated over here. Well, I’ll put that differently, they really flew.

My friend injured herself here and has discovered some rather serious back problems in the wake of x-rays and MRIs. Luckily, if we can say that, she found this out over here and while she was covered by insurance through the school she teaches for. And here, in the land of civilization when it comes to health care, they do things in a very direct way when it comes to treatment.

That is where I come in.

She now has to administer 3 doses of cortozone to her butt area once a day until her next test occurs, but she has another week of this. Now I don’t know if you have ever had to give yourself a shot in the arse, but it seems problematic just thinking about it and the reality of the situation is trickier. So, that is how I found myself in the Vivoli bathroom with a syringe in my hand and my friend leaning over the toilet.

Have I mentioned I hate needles? Do I need to?

All was as well as it could be until I saw the blood on the needle. Fortunately I had a cappuccino to fortify myself beforehand, otherwise I’m sure the Florence headlines would have been something like “Kinky Drug Addicts Found Unconscious in World Famous Gelateria”. Sure, we have class. Since that episode, we have both agreed to meet somewhere with a bed so I can properly faint when the time comes. And she seems to feel nothing. Doesn’t faze her in the lest.

As a sort of side note, I was able to watch the last 30 minutes of Sicko by Micheal Moore and will be watching the rest of it soon. Please do the same. Please write to your senators to change the shameful system Americans are living under. Ask yourself why we can’t all be wealthy, healthy and wise. Know that if my friend had this accident in the States it would have forced her to sell everything she owns and that would still probably not have paid for all of the expenses. She works hard teaching and creating art. She is a good person. She, like millions like her, doesn’t deserve to live in fear and pain.

More about the parental units visit later. I’m just now catching up.

The source

While taking a bath, I’m one of those people that try to get as close as possible to the hot running water. My blood pumps slowly through me, so in my mind, this will warm me up faster.

I also like standing near fireplaces. I wrap my body tightly up into quilts and comforters and sheets. The way I handle pillows is borderline obscene. Light must spill over the pages of books while reading.

Speaking of books, one reason why I wanted to be a librarian was so that I could be in the presence of knowledge, even while working. And I have already mentioned my need for touching green.

In short, I’m a source junkie. Warmth, energy, knowledge, nature. All of these things — the closer the better.

And my parents arrive tomorrow. Imagine the thrill of having all of those attributes, plus love, in such close proximity.

The source junkie is beyond happy.