Ma il cielo e’ sempre piu’ blu...
A friend in Genoa sent me a message the other day remarking… Brutto momento in questi giorni… An ugly moment in these days. A typical Italian comment and one obviously directed at our country’s return to Lockdown, a soft-core one decreed last Sunday night by the Italian PM Conte…
No one likes the word Lockdown. The PM tried to avoid its use in his announcement. .Many in government & business are worried by the economic situation in Italy provoked by last Spring’s Covid Lockdown. None like the word pandemic either. Might be exhaustion. Apparently, the powers-that-be do love the word crisis. One word I rarely hear is jobs, unless it is about their disappearance. Just the word economy. Bandied about by the G & B worriers. I was wondering… does economy pay a family’s bills? Put food on their table? When there are no jobs? Economy only produces anxiety. Nothing practical about that. I digress…
I say typical comment because, the Italians say the same when the forecast calls for a week of rain. And, we have had more than a week of it. Oh, well, back to Covid…
In the arc of 6 weeks, Italy has gone from a daily average of 150 new Covid cases to yesterday’s astounding 27,000., less 169. Predictions are for 30,000+ by the end of the weekend. The graph line is supposed to continue to climb. May call for a re-think on the above words no one likes.
I am upset by this news but, I am alos not upset or, especially surprised. Dottore You has repeatedly stated, and from last March, that loosening the Rules & Regulations of movement & activities del popolo coupled with the traditional Fall/Winter Flu Season would create notable to frightening spikes with Covid-19 cases by October. Eccoci… 26.831 on October 28, 2020. As many know from the News & Internet, these massive increases of new cases are duplicated in the rest of Europe and the World. And, the US is the winner of the Covid-19 Do-do Award: number of new cases, deaths, and Intensive Care patients, etc. Congratulations? You reap what you sow. Whereas our Good News in Italy is the number of deaths and cases requiring Intensive Care in hospital are low. Way low. Early detection? Might be. The numbers for Covid tests are now running well over a 100,000 a day and increasing. Good deal. It’s not all un brutto momento. Well, then…
Codiponte is now no longer untouched by Covid-19. Unfortunately, a worse case scenario on several fronts. The worst being the prejudice against Muslims in my adopted country. A Muslim family from Viareggio moved into a rental house right on the Codiponte’s piazzetta. The natives became restless to the point of alarm and asked… Why did they move in a pandemic and to of all places, Codiponte? The authorities were called. Officials showed up with the Carabinieri and Public Health staff decked out in the medical coveralls, masks, helmets, gloves and notepads. They discovered 2 of the family of 6 tested positive for Covid-19. Immediate quarantine. The natives are now restless to the point of hysterics. No one walks about anymore and particularly across the piazzetta. They drive.
And, the Lunigiana is now too a Covid hot spot. Tabaccherie, bars & stores, which sell giornali… or, newspapers… tack-up pre-printed posters outside with the day’s headlines to catch your attention as you zip by in your car. Me, sporting a mask and housed in my beat-up SUV with a crazed Weimaraner on the back bench huffing & puffing to Run Wild, Run Free in the surrounding wildernesses ASAP…
23 casi nuovi ad Aulla… Fivizzano Hot Spot… Lunigiana assalta dal Covid… and so & so forth.
My dear German friend cruises the ASL website…. the Italian health service… to check the latest Covid statistics in Tuscany. FYI…
Codiponte is a village in the Lunigiana, which is a contiguous area within the Province of Massa-Carrara, which is in the Italian region of Tuscany.
The Tuscan stats are not encouraging at all. Suddenly, the pandemic fells like it is on top of us. Better not to look? I think so…
I have been in Lockdown, only slightly modified since Lockdown Liberation Day last June 3rd. At You’s insistence. He’s still getting regular Health & Interior Ministries Covid updates. They are not what il popolo italiano vuole sentire. Bad news. Thus, I am back to Full-tilt Lockdown.
Unexpectedly, and though I could not find anything worthwhile on Netflix to watch back in March to June Lockdown, I am happy to report or, possibly, more like embarrassed to admit, I have found a few things to enjoy on the channel. Nothing cruel, mean, scary, gory or plain d-d-dumb. The bill-of-faire? I especially liked The Fundamentals Of Caring, an independent flick with some terrific actors… Paul Rudd, who is still cute and his face has lost its baby-fat, the famous Jennifer Ehle for her Elizabeth in the BBC’s Pride & Prejudice of nearly a century ago… 1995… another English actor, Craig Roberts, and the formidable Selena Gomez, who had the best part, lines AND delivery in the movie. She was fantastic. I was so impressed. Made me laugh a lot too. Story…. must be a phase we’re in that nothing is truly interesting to the Viewing Public unless traumatic baggage are brought along to give Rhyme and/or Reason to the tale… Paul’s character lost a child in an accident, spinning him off towards divorce and job loss. He takes a course in Caring and ends up knocking on the front door of the mom played by Jennifer Ehle, and her wheelchair condemned son, Trevor, played by Craig Roberts. Dead pan humour aiding & abetting a road trip to confront Life’s pain…. Start the car. We’re going to the fucking pit! Good Flick. Highly recommend it.
Another was A Suitable Boy taken from a 1,500 page tome… Really? 1,500 pages?… written by the Indian/English writer/poet, Vibram Seth. Ever hear of The Golden Gate? Fewer pages. It’s a novel in poetic form. The Limited Series produced by BBC and developed/directed by Mira Nair… remember Salaam Bombay?… has a sizeable Indian cast with wonderful actors. Here is the blurb from Netflix…
A vast, panoramic tale charting the fortunes of four large families and exploring India and its rich and varied culture at a crucial point in its history.
Yep. Partition. Mostly the story interest is about a young woman destined to marry a suitable boy. Her intended who won was so endearing. Thought her choice a good one despite that fact he was her mother’s choice too. An hysterical and mildly stupid woman… alla Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice. Elizabeth’s mother in a sari. The 6 episodes consumed 3 evenings with white wine sitting in a cosy poltrona next to the new firebox in Casa Grande’s Salotto.
Alas, Feature Presentations are not my main Lockdown pursuit. Household tasks galore…
After the enormous success with the installation of the two fireboxes, You & I have gotten on our hands & knees to wax ALL of the terracotta floors at il Poggiolo. You was ruthless. Single-handedly brushed & buffed the stuff in la Casetta. He seemed to take to buffing as something fun to do. I did la Casa Grande’s Laundry, Kitchen and Loggia. We together tackled the same house’s Salotto’s and Sala da Pranzo’s pavements. Big sweaty work and long overdue.
Alone, I have treated the pergola with Stop-Rust, anti-rust too and, when the sun finally comes out long enough, I will paint the thing in our Signature Out-door Stuff Paint Colour. There are more garden furniture pieces to treat & paint, the wine vats to lather with anti-wood-worms… another instance for wearing a mask. The fumes are lethal… nearly. Must re-paint the Entrance Stairs cupboard door. This will require lots of sanding before I ever get to the paint. Got to clean out and… shhh… throw away junk we don’t need. And, there are the Garden Tasks of cutting the grass, raking leaves, re-planting some roses and moving plants, which cannot stand cold temps, into la Casa Grande’s Kitchen, a partial green-house, thanks to the glass doors and the sink’s window and the room’s Southern exposure.
All in all, not too bad a Covid moment. Good News. Bad News. And, I’m out of circulation, got things to do, enough white wine & Netflix to remediate the after-effects of any hard labours, there’s the crazed Weimaraner to drag me out of il Poggiolo for yonder forests, and, You is due in Codiponte soon. Now, if everyone would buck up for little while longer, put themselves in Lockdown for a month or two, we might just win faster this battle against the coronavirus. May sound a bit like… If they do not have bread, let them eat cake… but, there is help. from the Italian Government and laterally from the Catholic Church et al. More assitance is on its way from the European Community. Ifthe G & B Worriers would step aside or, remove their greedy paws from the pot and let it get to those truly in need, more would be able to say… Ma il cielo e’ sempre piu’ blu!!!
I've stopped counting...
…the days of Lockdown. I’ve got more important things to occupy myself with than Math.
Nor do I care what others are doing in any ol’ COVID-19 Phase, I am still maintaining Phase 1 Coronavirus Lockdown. It is Life as it was, still is and will be. I don’t mess with always.
I do not naturally follow Rules. I come from Colorado. Wild open West. Mountains, plains, wilderness, don’t fence me in, OK? What are Rules? However, in the case of this Coronavirus pandemic, I AM FOLLOWING THE LOCKDOWN RULES!!! del mio Dottore: avoid folk, eschew places folk congregated, consistently elect to… stay… at… home. Ample time to walk the Dog, work on photography, do yard work…
…by the way, I don’t think I have ever KILLED!!! a hydrangea in my life. Other plants, yes, mai una hortensia. Poor thing. Its flowers were so splendid cascading out of its 1930’s terracotta vase for a couple of years, keeping Dr. Bacchus company in his lonesome statuary vigil tucked off, as he is, to a corner of our Scenic Overlook. Dr Bacch- overlooks some peonies, a smattering of oak leaf hydrangeas and the sad one. This past February, while Coronavirus was gathering steam in Italy, I tried to move the plant in its large terracotta vase to a better location. The rim snapped off in my hand. I tried lifting the vase up from the bottom but, it would not budge… much. Found the plant’s roots had sought more fertile contact with Mother Earth through the drainage hole. A major exodus. Stopped-up the exit completely. Surveying the entire hydrangea-vase situation, I was alarmed to see the plant was drowning. Oh, dear…. Oh, my… drowned! I busted the pot. Water gushed out soaking my Adidas trainers…
They don’t lace. Hidden cords. Push a button on the side and twist it to tighten the shoe to the foot. They make my feet stink. Chinese synthetics. But, very cool looking footwear, I don’t mind saying. Black and Jamaican yellow and green. A modern day Rastafarian?
I went and got a shovel to dig a large hole and promptly re-planted the drowned hydrangea directly in the waiting guts of Madame Earth. I fear it was too late. No signs of life after two weeks, ie leaves, perhaps?
What I would so dearly love to KILL! KILL!! KILL!!!, however, would be the roving vines. Probably, yes, I could concede the flora-type I am annually afflicted with might be a nice contribution to un ambiente piu’ naturale, just not at il Poggiolo, thank you very much. Long, elegant and purple tendrils with delicately articulated light-green leaves easily distributed along the vines’ length, a lighter version of an ivy, are taking over every single plant, bush, tree in the garden. They go everywhere, respect nothing, and are totally indifferent to what they are strangling in this or in any other year. One can no longer enjoy the greenery You and I sweated to plant for the last 10 years. A menace.
A couple of weeks ago, I stopped by to see My English Friends in Codiponte to say Ciao! and find out how they were bearing the pandemic. All was OK so, I then steered the conversation to my unsuccessful war on roving vines. I received a prompt suggestion for the trouble of my visit with a guaranteed knock ‘em DEAD method…
gather up the vines, curl them into a ball, stuff them into a plastic garbage bag, spray poison inside… ABUNDANTLY!!!… tie the thing up and let the chemicals do their prescribed work. Though optimistic in winning this Chemical War, the tactic does decorate our Lunigiana premises with a disconcerting variety of blue, light-grey and light-green plastic garbage bags. There is nothing less decorative than plastic. Like, suddenly, the place has begun to return to its recent History… lo’ these 10 years ago… of being a community trash dump. Ahime’.
On an up-note… modern Italian technology has saved me from carrying around a very bad attitude regarding the weed-whacker. Previously thought to be the most odious machine ever thrown onto our modern gardening society. Mostly for equipping the plastic cord… we just can’t get away from plastic, can we?… in yet another plastic housing. The installation ruins the flow of the initiative to bush-whack grass & weeds into oblivion. The housing gave up the ghost this afternoon, while I swayed the machine back ‘n forth across il Poggiolo’s ramp’s tall, rain-nourished grass & weeds. Meant a drive to Gragnola… mask & gloves on… to the local hardware store. A fantastic establishment. All guys and they are extremely courteous & helpful for my city mouse dealing with a country mouse’s chores & tribulations. The Head Guy replaced the housing with a new one where you just insert the plastic cord… there we go again… into a hole, run it through and out another hole, turn the top dial and the plastic thing sucks the plastic cord into the plastic housing. Glorious. Totally. In ancient times, I would have had to disassemble the housing, separated the three pieces, wrap a long plastic cord… we we go again… around another plastic piece… gads… struggling to encourage said plastic cord to go around in circles against its plastic will… of course… slip each end through their respective holes… against their plastic will… the material is a plague… then quickly pop back on the rest of the housing before the plastic cord decides to spring out and land several feet away… to start the struggle all over again. I came home with the new housing and made clean work of the tall grass & weeds on the ramp. Done with great satisfaction and pride.
And now, for a bit of Spring color…
Il Poggiolo’s garden is inundated with flowers. A bumper crop. And how, with so little H2O? A trick of Mother Nature, perhaps? Here is a photo-medley…
If you will excuse me, I must return to the Chemical Battle.
Day 11 of Phase 2 in Codiponte...
Not much has changed in Codiponte from when Phase 2 was kicked off on Monday, May 4th. The only hardship is the isolation from You and our friends, many of whom are stuck in a Holding Pattern awaiting entry into Italy to return to their homes here. All the rest is a God Send: still no airplanes flying overhead…
oh, I spoke too soon! The sound of a lone aircraft. What could it be? Hark! A Kenyan Air Force two-engine cargo plane flying from Milan Malpensa MXP to N/A, meaning Rome and then some military airport near Nairobi. Well, after delving into the headlines at BBC and The Guardian Newspaper, Africa is now up to the tips of their tribal spears with Coronavirus. And sadly, Kenya is another hot spot. All on the African continent are in need of medical supplies & equipment to battle the pandemic’s invasion into their countries.
One of my hobbies during Phase 1 & 2 of Lockdown has been to check aircraft flying LIVE above the entire globe at flightradar24.com. Previous to the COVID-19 pandemic, the sky above Codiponte was a multi-lane, multi-directional flight highway connecting Italy to the rest of Italy, Western Europe North of the Alps and the UK despite Brexit to the Near East and Eastern Africa… Egypt south to Kenya, for instance. At all hours of the day and night. I’d sit out with friends, happily sipping an excellently chilled white wine from their cellars in their lovely fattoria high above the valleys of Lunigiana and in line with the Apuane Peaks, offering stunning, unblemished skyscapes. The friends look at stars off apps, while I pull out the ol’ iPhone 11 Plus, for cryin’ out loud, click the flightradar24 app to see what’s what flying above. Just click on a yellow airplane icon to find out the from and to. I am easily carried away with fantasizing of the places on many of the aircraft’s itineraries… Istanbul, Cairo, Beirut, Port Louis, Mauritius! I’ve been to the first two. Not sure when for the others but, Beirut is tops. Since March 9th, the highway is empty but for the sporadic domestic flights flown by Alitalia to connect Milan & Rome to the country’s major centers: Napoli, Palermo, Turin, Venice, Bari, etc.; and slightly more often, Italian Air Force and Police cargo planes and Airbuses to shift personnel, supplies & equipment for the Italy’s fight in this Coronavirus pandemic. The majority of airplanes, however, flying in our skies, and are about 1/100th of the normal traffic, are cargo airplanes. Again, shifting stuff to combat the emergency. And yet, the Boeings and Airbuses are also carry general goods & foods since, the belly-cargos of the passenger aircraft are empty and parked on aprons and runways all over the place. Major hubs like London Heathrow, Vienna Schwechat, Frankfurt-am-Main, and Hong Kong’s Chek Lap Kok have become huge parking lots for B-777s, A-380s, etc.. And so too at many a minor airport. There is one airport out in California… Victorville, California… a famous aircraft cemetery… is now home to umpteen hundreds of furloughed though ready to fly airplanes of all sizes. Oh, well.
… and car & truck traffic has dwindled to a trickle though there are tiny Rush Hours in the early morning and late in the afternoon. The Codiponte Natives are out yet, rarely far from home or vegetable gardens and they rigorously wear masks but, NO GLOVES!!! And the church’s campanile still rings in the hours from 7:00AM to 9:00PM. Hope it stays like this.
Day 60 Lockdown Corona-cartoons...
Best remedy for a Lockdown, of any sort? Laugh. And the simplest way? Cartoons. Fast, efficient, a sure fire method to provoke, at least, a good chuckle. Often a good guffaw. The cartoons below are a sampler of those which got me through the Low’s of Lockdown, and with much thanks to the convenience of Whatsapp and a wonderful pack of family & friends with a terrific sense of humour…
Semi-Coronavirus Liberation Day...
… or, in the current jargon, Phase 2 which began on the first Monday of May, the 4th, 2020. Coronavirus-COVID-19-pandemic-plague. Liberation? I didn’t think about it. Preferred to think about the many positive aspects of the strict Italian Lockdown here in Codiponte…
the general Peace & Tranquility… except when the kid in the the floodplain of Codiponte insisted on blasting Vasco Rossi out a speaker set in his BR window during the sacrosanct hour of Nap Time… knocking off innumerable items on my To-do List, the garden accounting for about 70%, pleasant chats on the telephone with family & friends from Italy to the UK and over to the US, exchanging terrifically funny videos, cartoons and messages through the auspice of Whatsapp, long morning walks with the Dog in the woods surrounding Codiponte… the Dog searches for a better stick, while I photograph sculptural and long forgotten chestnut trees… and fresh air!!! A simpler, healthier and remote Life.
Now, Phase 2? Had no idea. Then, reality hit. At 6:30AM, last Monday morning, I was unexpectedly and rudely awakened by traffic over on the Strada Regionale 445. Cars, trucks, flat-beds, buses, pullmans. Heading to work after a 2 month hiatus. Why the rush? The work might’ve disappeared or will with the economy shot. Anyway, the roar was occasionally accented by casual honking. Italians cannot seem to resist a friendly toot to friends & family seen along the road or, at the bus stop at the Rimessa to catch the corriere to Aulla, the Big Town of lower Lunigiana, and apparently, at any hour of the day. They think: we’re up and so should the rest of the World… at 6:30AM in the morning.
It came as a shock. Mostly the amount of traffic. I hung out the window of my bedroom in La Casetta, which affords a direct line of sight, providing an eyewitness account of the noisy flow of vehicles. The Dog was confused when I got out of bed way before the standard signal that Our Lockdown Day had begun, Codiponte’s church’s campanile unwaveringly ringing in 7 o’clock, Lockdown Day in and Lockdown Day out. The four-legged creature elected to stay in bed. Wool blankets are so inviting to snuggle and especially when the human body has left. I went for a restorative caffe. I needed caffeine to ponder the new developments. Such as, arrivederci to Codiponte’s lovely Peace & Tranquility of Lockdown so ignobly shattered. I felt threatened. Seemed more dangerous now than ever before to run for groceries, buy dog food and hit a friend’s nursery for urgent gardening supplies which, I needed to do after the Dog’s excursions into our local wildernesses. I’m not used to traffic. Up until this May 4th, I was normally, the King of the Road. I enjoyed the privilege, the privacy and the absence of stress having an Italian in a white VW Golf try to butt-fuck me because he needs to be somewhere faster than my SUV can go and thus, I WAS IN THE WAY!!! And too, there will be strange people about the land of the Lunigiana. I only saw people I regularly see in my normal Life at the grocery store, etc. No more, I suspected. They could be COVID-19 carriers! Masks & gloves are no guarantee.
Dottore You confirmed the above and doubly confirmed later in my morning. You strongly suggested that I stay… at… home… as much as possible. Good he didn’t add… as humanly possible. He continued by reiterating the concept of… There’s no sense in risking one’s vulnerable health as a prime Coronavirus candidate by co-mingling with errant rabble, racing to shop at the OVS super store after being shut-in at home for 8+ weeks.
However, My Human Nature has frayed a bit despite the rigours of my particular Lockdown in Codiponte. I have been in self-quarantine for 10+ weeks now. I wanted to break away. Freedom. Freedom of movement, like those folk racing to & fro earlier in the morning. A desire to belong? For so long, I only left Codiponte on Wednesdays. On Moral, Psychological… Emotional Grounds… I felt the strong urge to head to Aulla on this Liberation Day… to enjoy civilisation.
Then, I ran into this…
Again, for second time in less than two hours, I had unwittingly become an innocent victim of Coronavirus Liberation Day activities. The Dog and I made up part of a long convoy of vehicles rolling to Aulla. And the same in the opposing direction. The Dog was miffed: he could not hang his large Weimaraner head out the SUV’s back window for a breath of nostril flaring fresh air, ‘cause he’d been trained!!! to tuck said head inside, if something comes towards us.
And what… a… snarl… of… traffic! Cars darting in & out from all directions & angles, bottlenecks at critical curves along the road or, at stores NOW OPEN FOR BUSINESS, cars double-parked at all my stops…
the first: to buy dog food. Took 7 minutes. Next stop were nurseries: the Aulla Consorzio for a fungal disinfectant to cure our suffering verbania… planted in what was 11 years ago the main dump for garbage thrown there by the admirable citizens of Codiponte and is probably a sort of chemical waste pit of deeply submerged plastic bags and other I-don’t-want-to-know stuff… Katia & Paolo for pots and a fragrant rose bush as a belated birthday gift for a Codiponte friend, and finally, a visit to Cristiana, my dear Codiponte friend, and owner of the big nursery, for potting soil and some inconsequential plants necessary to plug some holes in our green Privacy Screen. I overbought. Walked out with a snow-cone plant, a photinia, several corbezzoli and several geraniums. The poor SUV was sluggish from the weight of it all. Had to hit three grocery stores too for my newly discovered am-not-drinking-white-wine substitute. An Italian ginger-ale. It’s orange. A festive color. And, it’s Zero. Slimming, perhaps. Two establishments had no stock but, the Conad did. Cleaned them out. I know, I know, not very considerate of others. However, I need all the help I can get and especially for not resorting to white wine in these dawning days of a lesser Lockdown. Kind of hate to think about Phase 3. A possible YIKES!…???
Day 53: The Lockdown Masquerade 2020...
Yes, and gosh, here I am at my personal Day 77 Lockdown Codiponte. How time flies when one is locked-down. I haven’t seen You in 67 days or, 9.53 weeks. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? I believe so, though I have hardly had any time to notice, what with the number of telephone calls & Whatsapp messages from him. And, we will have to bear the separation as best we can for another 31 days or, 4 weeks. The Dog is thoroughly worn-out from my discussions substituting for the absent Dottore You. The exhausted canine naps elsewhere.
Passing quickly onto the Weather: cloudy, cool and there’s an infinitesimally fine spray today, Thursday, the last day of April and a day before May Day. What are people going to be able to do tomorrow to celebrate the holiday during a Global pandemic? Socialisms has been switched to Social Distancing. Not quite what was originally intended but then, who knew? And a parade of masked & gloved folk would be a no-no, unless there’s only family members… in Italy.
I have made light of You’s constant tele-communications but, his and those too of the masked folk of family & friends below have been A MAFOR MORALE BOOSTER!!! for this COVID-19 shut-in Codiponte, Tuscany, Italy. To thank them… one and all… for their constant messages, calls, emails, videos and cartoons, here below is…
Lockdown Masquerade 2020!!!
Thank you, thank you, thank you… grazie, grazie, grazie!!!
Day 46 Lockdown Codiponte...
I am personally in Day 70 Lockdown. I have not seen You in 7 and a 1/2 weeks. He says 8. I might be able to travel to Genoa to see him by Week 10, according to Dottore You. He has an inside track on the latest COVID-19 Lockdown measures. He’s on the telephone with the Ministries of Health and Interior several times a day. Oh, wait! I am getting ahead of myself. The weather…
sunny, pleasantly warm after a cold start this morning, light breeze from the Mediterranean Sea, birds are tweeting so, at least, they must be happy. I would be totally happy too, if it weren’t for the grotesque absence of a good, solid three days of RAIN. The forecasters can stop advertising 20%, 50%, 70% chance of rain ‘cause we all know here in Codiponte what that means = NO RAIN. Spray does not count, by the way.
I smell rebellion in the air. Oh, not here in Codiponte though a bomb did go off last Sunday. Sounded like a bomb. I know the sound and reverberations of one because, I was in Florence in a hotel right behind the Uffizi Gallery where a bomb detonated, killing a couple of people, injuring many others and damaging the heck out of one of the most wonderful museums in the World. The source of Codiponte’s explosion has actually not been determined. Several neighbors trotted off towards Acqua Paradiso, the general location of the big noise, to investigate. They came back with little information. I suspect nothing was found. It will remain a Codiponte mystery. No. This air of discord seems to be everywhere else than my bucolic retreat in the Lunigiana though occasionally marred by big noises, whether by a bomb or the kid in the flatlands blasting Vasco Rossi after pranzo. An Italian singer with a raucus voice and a musical line which works well for guys who have just scored with their fidanzate. Gads. No. Disorders in Paris, America, Brasil… when we should all be calm and collaborative with each other from our respective Lockdowns…
I can understand Paris. Frawnce’s Lockdown has been as severe as Italy’s, if not more so, from what I have understood from friends in Lockdown Nice. They had fled the UK at the end of March for their country’s total lack of any Coronavirus measures though now, several weeks of Britain’s Got Lockdown have passed and with the commensurate fatalities climbing etc. and endless complaints from anyone there having an opinion. Don’t you just love Democracy? The two got caught by President Macron’s Verrouillage en Frawnce. Their only option at that time was to return subito to England. They said… No, thank you. Why be forced to stay inside an apartment and look out at cold, grey and rainy Ol’ England, when they could stay in Nice on their apartment’s balcony overlooking le Promenade des Anglais and the Mediterranean Sea lapping the deserted beaches below. Not surprisingly, Nice ahs not seen any riots yet. Just Paris. And, my suspicions are that the rioters are those who sadly do not have means or, mentality, to stay inside and self-isolate by doing something constructive… Honey-do’s… or, watch TV, play with the children. Cook. Dally with their iPhones. That they are asked to stick inside to protect others has not crossed their minds. Thus, easier to let off steam by rioting.
America is a mess. We can start with Trump at the top, passing by the bully recalcitrant and overly verbose Dr. Fauci… though people love him ‘cause he spars with Trump… and work down until we hit bottom. Those resting there are the ones suffering the severe effects of the disorganization and fraud of those above. I am ashamed of America. The entire political and business orders need a GREAT BIG HUGE SPANKING!!! I have requested Him, Who Rests Way Above the President about doing The Right thing… to smote the lot… and soon. In the meantime, demonstrations with ill-written banners & placards & cardboard signs carried by the motley array of folk fed up with what to the rest of the World ain’t a Lockdown. None have the balls of the Italians, French, Spanish, etc. And yet, my family & friends, an aware and conscientious group remain to independently stay safe at home. N’er a thought of heading out to bowl or hang-out at a tattoo parlour.
Not much to say about Brazil. Their lockdown is probably akin to being held after school yet, without a note to take home to the parents. Why should it be when the country’s president doesn’t heed the advice or council of those in the know? I won’t waste the energy being ashamed for the Brazilian people. While waiting God’s intervention, they should take matters in hand. Seems they have by demonstrating and rioting. However, it is not entirely clear for what they are demonstrating or rioting about. I’ll leave it alone.
Here in my part of Italy any rebellion is often caught now by the Police or, by the Carabinieri. Folk in their cars cutting out through the back door, so to speak, of the Lunigiana and into the Garfagnana to Lucca, Pisa and Florence beyond, I suppose. Wednesdays are my day to grocery shop, buy dog food, hit the pharmacy, the piece of official paperwork in my gloved hand, mask in place over my nose. I do this in the morning. Yesterday, I came back to Codiponte around 12:30 PM and there was a Police road-block in place, right at the most convenient spot to nab the escapees, where the Casciana Road meets the Strada Regionale 445 of the Garfagnana. Later, and after dark, it was the turn of Carabinieri to park themselves at the same spot, blue lights flashing on the tops of their late model FIAT and an ALFA-ROMEO. Both had caught a few. Good.
But, mostly, all of us here in Codiponte are awaiting the Italian government’s Game Plan for Coronavirus Phase 2. Since You is my own Personal COVID-19 Authority, he has said the general consensus coming down the pike from the Ministries of Health and Interior, their experts from WHO, CDC and other health institutions world-wide, plus the Italian doctors, like You, nurses and medical technicians actively engaged in battling Coronavirus, like Dott. You, is we first must give priority in protecting the health & safety of the general public. Yes, getting people back at work is important but what do you do if that provokes another and possibly more serious return of COVID-19, as the indications imply? How can you liberate lockdown when you cannot identify a carrier of the virus? Open factories, for instance, the young workers might be infecting people in the prime group vulnerable to infection from COVID-19. Open the schools? Right. Kids could be carrying the virus which could jeopardize the health of the older teachers. Complicated, isn’t it. Our only guarantee is what a lockdown is supposed to do: isolate and contain. Stop. Pay the consequences otherwise.
I do agree with jump starting the economy… and that would include agriculture… is vitally important. The second challenge of this pandemic and possibly provoking yet more dire consequences. Again though, if your population is unhealthy or unprotected or, sick, it will only confound any progress or safety. It will be worse.
I have no way to take the pulse of my Codiponte neighbors about all this. Better not to.
So, I know this… I have a dog who adores me. I have a boy-friend, who is counting on me to stay safe so, when we can see each other, I will be healthy & safe. I have wonderful friends, both here in Italy and many others scattered across Europe to America. They have never swayed from remaining in constant contact with me through the genius of the telephone, emails and Whatsapp. I have food in the refrigerator. I can pay my bills and even order stuff off Instagram I apparently cannot live without. Waiting for the DHL Guy to call me about leaving a package of something at the Scuzzy Bar is nearly the most absolute Joy about.
The absolute Joy of a delivery
…in these trying days of Lockdown.
Day 41 Lockdown Codiponte...
Unofficial Day 65, a Saturday: cloudy, overcast and cool. NO RAIN.
A typical Lockdown Day in Codiponte…
Get up feed the dog Make a caffe Look at the news on BBC Look at pictures of muscle-men on instagram sporting body bragging…. their bosoms are mouth-watering… custom made T-shirts for 70 euros Take a shower Get dressed Make the bed Fix the pillows on the sofa Sweep downstairs of dog hairs pieces of wood chewed off the dog’s special stick and bread crumbs Grab keys and emergency sacks for the dog’s bio donations Go out and start watering before going on that walk with same dog to a place behind my house where there is the madonnina meditation sanctuary I cannot because I must watch to make sure the dog doesn’t pee on the Virgin Mary and instead encourage said dog to go find sticks Take photographs of trees Look at funny coronavirus videos people have sent me overnight Call Dottore You but no answer He calls me back Asks if I am all right? I am Call for the dog to stop terrorising the Mother Nature… she’s stressed enough… go back home make a late morning caffe Open windows in la Casa Grande and turn on wi-fi Walk up to to do the same nel Appartamento Azzurro Come back down and sit at the table on the loggia wearing a sweater and a scarf Open the laptop to work on my Your Italian Concierge website Entails considerable time to do the desired adjustments Driven absolutely batty with how nit-picking squarespace can be with their market orientated templates for millenials…. which I am not… to the point that I have to call my IT fellow and have him take a peek remotely I make another caffe this time a decaffeinated one as I am already berserk When the nagging issue has been eliminated by my IT fellow I get up and change the water again This goes on until 6PM since we have had NO RAIN for the last four months Come back and continue to labor with the website Go down and fix lunch which is usually a grilled cheese and hotdog sandwich on this terrifically good whole wheat bread The dog gets a treat too of a piece of hotdog from my sandwich slathered with cheese goo We both climb back to the loggia and I eat my lunch while the dog stares at me for a possible hand-out… which he ain’t going to get… and I look at the news on the BBC off my laptop I take a nap on a chaise in the sun with a hat on to protect my bold head and fall asleep after reading the same paragraph of my book I wake up dazed and confused and hungry but I seek to resist by making a caffe I continue to work on the website cross-eyed Change the water once again and so throughout the day about every hour on the hour The dog gets rambunctious Means he’s hungry too and yet he cannot resist He bothers me starting around 3PM and continues until I get up and go down to la Casetta to feed him I make him suffer until his traditional feeding time of 4PM Once he has sucked up what was served… Pedigree for Dogs beef with a veggie slop… we come back to the loggia for the dog to digest his meal resting on his mattress and for me to continue with the website An hour later I grab the SUV keys and the dog goes wild with happiness and joy He knows we’re going in the dirty SUV to drive to the dog’s special spot to run wild run free for an hour In the meantime I take a French Lesson off an app on my iPhone I gave up on Russian There’s more a chance of going to Frawnce with You than to Roooissia J’ai appris a’ dire que je comprends le francais and other beginner’s sparing with the French language Pardonne madmoiselle… are there any still left in Frawnce?… es-que vous etes francaise? Ate up the entire 30 minute lesson I take some nature photos for instagram thinking I am an amazing photographer but even I am weary now of nature pics and hanker to shoot something else But what since I am in lockdown And I have not seen Dottore You for 7+ weeks though I do get many telephone calls from him, videos and even selfies in his Coronavirus protection gear I call the dog back off Mother Nature and we hop back into the SUV and drive back home to change the water and for me to pour myself a tall glass of white wine I sit up with the dog on the loggia admiring the golden light of late afternoon streaming across the hilly landscape of Codiponte and over our aia mulling over what’s for dinner And I have to say there have been some culinary masterpieces of late I made a delicious risotto with dead lettuce…. lots of dead lettuce I had over-bought during my once-a-week foray to the D’Oro supermarket in Pallerone which is outside my legal confines… and some dead spinach too, sauteeing them with pancetta in a large frying pan I opened a can of sgombero grigliata… smoked mackerel dumping the pieces in with the arborio rice, white wine and borth 20 minutes later I sat down on the sofa upstairs had enjoyed a tasty feast Normally on Mondays I do something to last a few days This week I made a tomato sauce for pasta open face sandwiches on that terrifically good whole wheat bread with pecorino on top and put the slices into the broiler to brown the pecorino to a golden crust One night I steamed zucchini & carrots and let them sit in the refrigerator for a half an hour and then tossed in salmon strips and olive oil to make a salad This is an attempt to eat more veggies than foraging stuff to put on that terrifically good whole wheat bread I have gorged myself on for the last seven weeks of myself and government induced quarantine Once dinner is over with I try to find something to entertaining to watch on Netflix but there never is So I end up watching for the umpteenth time The Crown Sense and Sensibility or The King’s Speech The other offerings are too violent too psychotic too mean or too stupid or demeaning Stuff for american tastes And because I watched a South Korean TV show 3/4’s of what the recalcitrant Netflix feels I now should enjoy for an evening’s Feature Presentation are other South Korean TV shows Disappointed and/or exhausted I go to bed with my book and fall asleep in mid-paragraph to a slumber of lockdown nightmares… about the Future. Day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day.
Day 32 Lockdown Codiponte...
Officially, a day over a month of Lockdown. Day 56 for me. Just saying. Read on to perceive my mood…
Weather continues to be sunny, warm… overly dry, damn-it and causing me to water the garden here at il Poggiolo every darn day of Lockdown… and breezy. But, HELL, it IS Spring! And yet, there is this lovely soft, fragrant scent to the air at dusk. Like it’s been sunny, warm… overly dry… and breezy. So much for the current forecast.
I don’t really have much to say. Oh, yes…
one thing is the silence we are all experiencing here in our back-of-beyond posting. I hear only the breeze and birds chirping. There are moments when I hear NOTHING! What a luxury. Occasionally however, and usually right before la pausa pranzo, music from a loud-speaker comes around the corner of il Poggiolo blasting from one of the houses down in the Codiponte Flood Plain. I know who too. A young man with the intelligence and tendencies of a 3 year old is the responsible person. Or, so I was told by a neighbor I had spotted her working with her chickens. We kept about 12 feet apart. I was without a mask and so was she. No gloves for either of us too. Thus, the overly cautious Social Distance. I got what little news was about. In fact, the disturbing-our-silence music was the only bit the neighbor could offer me. It’s tough. Kind of enforces one’s sense of loneliness and isolation. No truck or car traffic from the SR 445, no noises of people talking at/over the din of their machinery working the land or, no airplane traffic overhead. I can provide a screen shot taken from flightradar24.com just 3 seconds ago. Please note: in the left hand photo, the blue dot marks My Spot in Codiponte, Lunigiana, Tuscany and look! No airplanes, and…
in the left-hand photo is Dottore You at his command post in hospital and sporting his Coronavirus protective gear. This modest selfie ought to satisfy any curiosity of what an Italian doctor looks like who is battling in prima linea this COVID-19 with his very own gloved doctor’s hands and other…? Other…? Other doctor’s defences. And yes, yes, a thousand times, yes, we all know his interior mask ought to also cover his nose. However, he had just gotten off the telephone before this photo-op. One which made me very, very nervous… no, sorry, EXTREMELY NERVOUS, WORRIED, AND UPSET although I have know this Truth for the last 56 days. That expressed and explained, try this… pinch your nose while talking and see if anyone will understand you.
I am going to sign off for now. I seem to be on a Lockdown rhythm of one Day Yes! and the next a Day No! Guess which one I am having today?
Day 29 Lockdown Codiponte
Day 53 for me.
Weather continues to be outrageously sunny, meaning n’er a cloud, warm, meaning HOT & DRY, and often terrifically windy, meaning NO YARD WORK but to water.
Our lockdown continues and has been extended to April 13th, Easter Weekend. Dottore You said our confinement will be again extended. This bug currently menacing us on a Global level will need several more weeks, if not months to dissipate.
In the meantime, there’s already an obnoxious array of videos on YouTube with advice, suggestions or, recommendations on what & how you can fill all your lockdown time being constructive and not end up on the sofa balancing a bowl of potato-chips on your expanding tummy, sipping from a goblet filled to the brim with a chilly white wine, while struggling through the pitiful offering of movies or TV shows on Netflix…
I REFUSE to do yoga with my pet sheepdog… got no sheepdog, and, Thank God!… calisthenics with a rope and a closet door… I am NOT going to hunt for a rope… or, prop myself up into a horizontally torturous position for 15 minutes… NO WAY, man! I want to be able to get to the sofa afterwards. So much for physical exercise.
On the spiritual side of Life, one can YouTube it with learning Mindfulness while washing your hands to the cadence of Australian vowel sounds, listen to the prognostications of a very nice woman channeling an entity named Abraham, who encourages not to buy into all the Coronavirus hoopla and just think happy thoughts or, follow a former actor and now a professional consciousness coach who, in the video I caught, was sitting on a park bench in Chicago. He spoke of accepting The Now. In his case, his Now was walking on crutches after a hamstring accident. Apparently to him, a metaphor for the Coronavirus opportunity to recognise our Oneness with unbounded Nature. Whatever.
I find the most solace, humour and good-spiritedness in the videos and comical sayings exchanged on WhatsApp with friends & family. I thought I would share some of the fun…
Onwards to other Days!
Day 25 Lockdown Codiponte...
I am not at the end of my rope… yet. Many are though, but not me. I’m made of sterner stuff.
As is the Tradition, let me say, and before I dive into a lecture on Freedom, the lack thereof or, what we all are doing in the meantime, it’s absolutely gorgeous here in Codiponte: bright, sunny, cloudless days from Day 19 through to Day 25 of Lockdown Codiponte. By the way…
I must interject: my term of captivity is actually longer than the Official Lockdown. You…. Dr. You, that is, knowing full well my career as an ardent smoker long before I ever laid drunken eyes on him, and thus, understands my vulnerability to the threats of bronchitis, pneumonia, and not must unwillingly add the menace of Coronavirus to the list, suggested, highly suggested, I remove myself from circulation and remain within the confines of il Poggiolo. Whew! What a sentence. My confinement, in fact, is from the middle of February. As the count stands, I am, personally, in Day 49, from the 15th of February. I am not alone in this. My 90 year old mother, my English friends here in Codiponte, and others around I am sure.
To finish with the current weather report…
however, possibly for contrast or, for plain mean spirited-ness, it is also unseasonably beeg freezing cold too. During the night and, is especially felt in the morning. 37F degrees this morning. That’s cold for these parts and in April. The Croesus-person would not budge from off my bed until 10AM. Thermometer showed only 40F degrees at that hour. The Dog has an uncanny nose for only two… nope, sorry, three things: food, a savoury stick… you may substitute icky for savoury… and the cold. And this morning, with a light wind from Frawnce, the Chill Factor knocked the temp down to a feels-like 32F degrees. I can attest: there’s nothing colder in this World than standing in one’s skivvies risking disease… though holding a warm glass with a freshly made espresso… observing a crazed Weimaraner run up to his anointed spot to unleash his pent-up bio-donations. I refuse to do this daily ceremony with said Dog on a leash though I am under orders to do so. Enough of our Freedoms have already been taken away…
not that I am complaining.
Freedom? A New Freedom. I don’t want to get deep here but, I looked up the old meaning on Wikipedia. Merriam-Webster took too long to load. It states Freedom as: generally, having the ability to act or change without constraint. Easy. I am constrained. We all our constrained. Some of us more than others. I won’t name the name of the countries who seem reluctant to constrain their Peoples to stem the spread of Coronavirus. We’re all in this together. Get with it.
Nor do I want to be overly reflective yet, I find myself in a quandary with regards to this Coronavirus constraint: An adverse reaction. I have tons, literally tons, of stuff to do, to knock off the Task List, take these unexpected circumstances to achieve, accomplish, master, since I am prohibited BY DECREE!!! to hop in my SUV and go anywhere fun… like visit friends, go out to dinner, hang out at Luca’s Bar at Happy Hour. Nope. Instead, what I really want to do is NOT TO DO any of them. There, the New Freedom. However, when I try to goof off, I can’t…
relax, lull on a chaise and read a book in the sun though bundled-up in a sweater, throw blanket and scarf… GOT NO BOOKS, thanks to the spectacularly prompt delivery service at amazon.com. Odd because the only airplanes flying overhead are for cargo.
watch something on Netflix only to discover there is nothing palatable to watch. Sorry… I DO NOT WATCH MOVIES with a 23% Approval Rating from Rotten Tomatoes. I have Standards.
learn a language. How about Russian? I booked Pimsleur. Great outfit. Putting the written language aside, the Russian words and their pronunciation are…? Are…? ARE TONGUE TWISTERS. An example: Wouldn’t you like something to drink? comes to be and written phonetically as: Nee katill-beh bweh vweh stoney-bootz vweebitz? After that, I need some more white wine becomes… Mehnee new-zhnoh yesh-sh-ey nimnogoh belogo vinah. I have to go downstairs to pour me some to unravel my tongue and lips.
take on the challenge of learning how to use a digital mirror-less camera to shoot my new found passion for chestnut trees left to rot & decay on the hills around Codiponte. The Croesus-person is of no help as an assistant. Nevertheless, he does have the concession for collecting firewood down pat. Bravo cagnolino!
So, I struggle with all of the above. What I have managed to do and at my complete Freedom, is YARD WORK in il Poggiolo’s maturing-nicely-thank-you garden. Let me provide a List AND a photo-medley:
Pruned every fruit and non-fruit tree on our property
Clipped about 350 feet of assorted hedges and won the battle after much gymnastics
Cleaned the entire 25,000 ft. terraced garden of leaves, twigs, trash and an occasional stealth bio-donation
Planted 15+ plants in various empty spots needing greenery or flowers
Fertilised every fruit and non fruit tree, bush and plant with roots in Mother Earth and those flora managing to survive in pots
Put in order our courtyard, carrying away leaves, twigs and trash and pulled weeds out of every potted plant on the premises
Mowed the lawn twice
Weed-whacked twice
Burned three times the mighty efforts of my pruning & cleaning. Yes, we can burn
Cut wood to burn since I went through the entire consignment of this Winter’s firewood
And, finally, stopped to admire and sniff the flowers!
Day 18 Lock-down Codiponte...
You know when the weather gal or guy gives the forecast and they say…
The temperature outside,folks, is a bracing 37F degrees. Bundle-up! And with that cold Northeast wind blowing now after the last weekend’s system passed out to the Atlantic, the Chill Factor makes the temps feel like a bone-shivering 30F degrees.
Well, what with Coronavirus info overload… could be worse than the actual virus?… newscasters and Internet news sites should caption any Coronavirus report with a Coronavirus Factor or Index. I will in the meantime. For instance, take yesterday’s shocker…
Buckingham Palace announced the Prince of Wales tested positive for Coronavirus. He is displaying some symptoms but otherwise remains in good health. We want to extend our Best Wishes to Prince Charles and to Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, who tested negative. They are in self-isolation in Balmoral. We would like to alert our viewing public of a Coronavirus Factor of… a sick sinking feeling, -100 for this news item.
If you are at all worried about the Queen who is in self-isolation at Windsor Castle with the Duke of Edinburgh, the CF will hit a -3,457… we cannot muster the words.
Let’s see how this CF will work…
We certainly have had reports this week. Numbers on infected and deaths unexpectedly spiked last Monday, while over the weekend they looked to be on their way down. I would give the news a CF of -150. That ought to cover the stress alone, if not a sense of impending doom.
The PM and government responded promptly with a new decree and quickly signed into law upping considerably fines & penalties for not staying at home. Fines now run from €400 to €3,000… or, about $433 to $ 3,352. Which fine price point depends upon several factors: the circumstances of your capture, the moods of the Carabinieri and, how far afield you had managed to sneak away to before being captured, and did you have the Coronavirus form filled out, etc. If you are caught breaking quarantine… shame on you!!!… up to 5 years in jail. Right on! I give this a CF of -2. Less than for Prince Charles, I know, but you see, I’m not keen on fines. Rebel American. And, I’ve got to slip out of Codiponte later to make a furtive run to the D’Oro grocery store. I am out of white wine! The store has the best price to selection of any supermarket in the Lunigiana. There is no other place to go to. None of the local alimentary have good wines. They also have no stock either on anything else I might need. For instance, bread. The little convenience shop in Codiponte habitually orders bread for the few but regular clients, all residents of our fair village. By the way, did you see the piazzetta all done up nicely in my previous blog post? Shame on you if you haven’t!!! So, by the time I think… Oh, gosh,! need bread… at 11:30AM… there’s none. Early Bird catches the loaf? I went early the next day and what was on hand was completely reserved. I did not go back a third time. I want my D’Oro! As for white wine… I am sorry, friends. I know we are experiencing an unprecedented Global health crisis and, everyone must do their part. My part, staying at home with a wired Weimaraner and without the benefit of Dottore You presence requires white wine. AND I DO NOT DRINK WINE FROM A CARTON. No discussion.
Damned, if the numbers for infected and deaths spiked again yesterday… a CF of -500, severe sense the light at the end of the tunnel has been lockdowned too.
Late Breaking News… The government is discussing an amendment to extend the State of Emergency until July 31st.
What? An immediate CF of -2,000. Without a doubt. My head is spinning. I feel weak. Psychologically constipation has hit and from too much isolation. Mental & emotional fatigue. You name it, I am feeling it, etc. Let’s make the CF -2,500. At his rate, the CF rating will expire from lack of numerals.
So much for that. Onwards…
I have notice a plethora of Italian flags about. What a fine show of solidarity in this Time of crisis. I give it a CF of +200. Warms the heart to see such an united front, doesn’t it?
Meanwhile, raising Moral is our friends over at Radio Subasio… Florence, Tuscany, Italy… which continues to rock us & roll us with an unceasing spectacular medley of Italian Greatest Hits. Naturally, the station’s CF would be +1,000,000… Yes, we are going to win this for sure. My favourite… and there are so many to choose from… is by Nek… yes, a weird Italian nickname but, he’s cute and HUGELY poplulare with our Spanish speaking brothers & sister… now experiencing the absolute s**t of Coronavirus… with his fantastic rendition of a song by Mina… Do you know of Mina? A GODDESS OF SONG. Take Barbara Streisand… tut-tut… and multiply her by 100. I will leave you…
Enjoy!
P.S. I braved the confines of lockdown and drove out in the great big world of lockdown to do some errands and did not run into a road-block or control. Thank the Good Lord! I went to the D’Oro grocery store, Miow-Bau pet store, a tabaccheria to pick up a package left by UPS, hit an ATM and, la piece de la resistance, stopped at my nursery to buy some necessary plants for if & when the fierce Russian winds abate long enough for me to sink the plants into Mother Earth.
Yes, I am a lockdown breaker but, it was vitaly important I go… NO WHITE WINE!!!
Day 15 Lock-down Codiponte...
The weather today? Sunny, bright, and very windy. Thus, quite cold.
But let’s go back to yesterday, Day 14 of the Coronavirus Lock-down Codiponte…
Lovely. Like the previous week, the day was irresistibly sunny, warm and heading towards hot by Noon, the village of Codiponte resting in silence but for the chirping of birds and the rushing noise of the Aulella River. No truck traffic. An irresistible invitation to gather up the Croesus-puppy… perennially eager to escape the from house or garden at any opportunity… pack-up my camera into its metallic green back-pack and head to the chestnut groves above Acqua Paradiso. There was a particular spot I wanted to investigate…
a dirt road off the Cascian Road at Codiponte’s New Bridge… built in the 1970’s when car traffic exceeded the one-way capacity of what is today the recently renovated roller-coast of the village’s famous Medieval Bridge. Codiponte is dialect for at the head of the bridge… is the communal tract leading past abandoned fields, vineyards and olive groves arriving at the natural spring called Acqua Paradiso. There, is a network of paths lacing together Codiponte to other villages and isolated houses in these parts. The tract is a pretty straight affair until, at a fork, it begins to gently twist & turn until it reaches the spring. More forks in the road. Two ways to go: one is to go straight past the spring and an accompanying Madonnina, which resembles a WWII bunker sawed off at the front and accessorized with the Italian’s love of pots full of colorful plastic flowers, slowly rising up and along the long spine of hills towards the North and dominating the Aulella River below or, the other is to hang a hard left and go up, up… up. Either path cuts pass acres and acres of forgotten chestnut groves. An agricultural cemetery.
The Puppy took the hard left at the stone shack happily anticipating the very trail I intended to take. The left hand one up, up… up. It’s a steep climb. On one side are magnificently brightly green moss covered low walls, once-upon-a-time gutters for the equally once-upon-a-time torrential rain-falls here in the Lunigiana, and on the other side, the ghosts of dead chestnut trees disguised by thousands of saplings and roving vines ambitiously disregarding the former live tenants on the terraced slopes. Near the peak of the ascent is an orderly tract to the right. Puppy was waiting for me, a stick in his mouth. He shot up the trail and vanished and I slowly followed holding for balance the camera mounted on its tripod ready to shoot.
Someone has been clearing the slopes to the left of undergrowth and felling trees for what I am sure will be firewood. All to the right, however, is untouched, a plateau of gnarled, crusty chestnut trees, one even imprisoned within the vestiges of a stone shack.
While Puppy scavenged for a better stick and when finding one he lays down to chew away his Wiemaraner neurosis, as I walked the groves. I see a view, plant the tripod, and shoot. I lose myself. The pressure-cooker existence of the Coronavirus forgotten in the mouth gaping beauty of these old trees, useless but for their aesthetics, and probably only to me. I love the spaces between the imaginary King, Bishops and pawns spread out on the plateau or arranged years ago on wide terraces roughed by now from too much neglect and rain. My iPhone squeales and I am quickly brought back to the dictator of our present predicament…
A friend in Holland wrote of the crisis as surreal. A good word for just about anywhere in the world these days of an unbelievable, fantastic, an intense irrationally reality. For instance…
I am quiet. Content, even. Unusual for me. Am a nervous sort. Much like my pup. I work in the garden at il Poggiolo pleased with progress on its yearly Spring-time submission to be rid of the vestiges of Winter. I take the Dog on walks. Croesus has a large collection of sticks, none of which are of any interest to him. I photograph was appeals. Savoring more the exercise of manipulating the camera than the actual result. I lie. I am very interested in the result but, have not mastered the art of the camera, as yet. The 50’s style refrigerator in la Casetta is full of my favourite feel-good foods… gorgonzola, big thick chicken hot-dogs, every salad washed & stuffed into a plastic pouch and tons of white wine! Out on the shelf-unit are potato-chips, pasta and more white wine! And, Thank the Good Lord, I am easily connected with friends & family… the world over… through my offensively expensive iPhone 11 Pro… this is not to show-off but, to share my shame… and an Apple Macbook which cost about the same, damn-it. Whatsapp and telephone exchanges consist of good-naturedly Lock-down Top This… Oh, everything’s closed here… Hospitals are over-loaded and there are no masks, gloves and supplies… I can go to the grocery store and the bank and pet store for cans of Pedigree for the pooch… Dottore You got stopped by the police asking why he was away from home. He was sent back fearing a fine in the mail of Euro 350…. I go out with the Dog and see n’er a soul… and finally, many friends but, especially a girl-friend in Genoa, sends me the most ridiculously funny videos and sayings to keep me laughing… https://youtu.be/-AZ_PRNilv0 and https://youtu.be/FgSlKbVh1SQ…
on the other side of the coin, the simplicity of confinement is continually crushed by the only company to be had beyond the Dog of the late-breaking Internet news and daily emails from the United States Department of State stating that is their want… You didn’t leave when we told you to do so 21 days ago, so now, live with it. Could there be a new syndrome in the offing? Coronavirus Confinement Conflicts? Maybe…
Came home and fixed a yummy grilled cheese sandwich, a side of potato-chips and a Coke-cola and took it up to the Loggia of the Casa Grande for an open-air lunch while addictively checking the latest news. KA-KA-KA-BOOM!!! RAI News 24’s headliner was…
Stricter measures ordered by government to combat Coronavirus.
Turn-of-the-screw or, the fire is raise for the pressure cooker? I don’t know but I could do with a Mauritius vacation on the double. However, and in light of those stricter measures, I will have to find liberation or solace with white wine, potato-ships and Netflixs. Are you game?
Day 12 Lock-down italy...
On a Friday morning, the 20th of March 2020…
My paternal grandmother started every letter to me with news on the weather. So, let me do the same before barrelling ahead with the Codiponte Coronavirus News…
Spring is in the air, flowering bushes & trees are blooming and it’s c-c-cold.
People are going stir-crazy here in Codiponte…
In the late afternoons, when I think there is no one walking about, I take my thug Puppy- Croesus to Romp & Play around the Madonnina, an homage to the Virgin Mary sighting a number of years ago. There is a lovely moss-graced stream Croesus instinctively hunts for succulent sticks along the banks of its rushing waters. He gets a vicarious bath too. This past Wednesday… the same day deaths from Coronavirus spiked terribly at 475 in one day in Italy!!! and I discovered I had nothing left in the refrigerator… I ran into a few village women coming to pray at the little grotto cum chapel. Italian men NEVER do that. They hardly go to church. Instead, they hang out at the Scuzzy Bar while le signore pray in church. However, the bar is closed now. One can buy cigarettes or a newspaper. Maybe the owners might dedicated themselves to a good ol’ Spring Cleaning with less traffic? I doubt it. Instead, the men putter in their future vegetable gardens or, loiter outside the mechanic’s. I turned and called the Dog, who came obediently, and we went instead for a drive in the SUV to our Romp & Play spot undisturbed near the Acqua Paradiso natural spring. I was surprised at first by the waddling signore until I recalled Codiponte’s church was closed on March 9th, Day 1 Lock-down Italy. I’m not keen on the Catholic religion for many reasons I won’t bore you with. However, I will say they swirl around years of listening to my Mother’s anti-Catholic stance. She also berated me with her arguments in favour of legalising drugs & prostitution and taxing the heck out of them both. These rants hark from the early 60’s. A forward thinker, my Mom. There are certain Catholic customs which, I do find dear and one is to pray at a Madonnina. They are everywhere in Italy and not erected just because the Virgin Mary paid a visit in 1972. Often though, they commemorate a death…
There was a shocking Coronavirus death in our quiet corner of the Lunigiana…
Oh! The radio just announced the enforced shortening of store hours and nothing open on Sundays. Mostly for grocery stores and pharmacies, Reason Numero Uno for being away from home. The new restrictions force the closure of all other stores. Plus, the army will participate in controlling the movements of the Italians. That some cannot get it into their heads that the best policy to combat this modern day plague is… to… stay… at… home, the main reason Coronavirus rages onwards in Italy.
News does travel quickly in these days of quarantine through Whatsapp. It was one such message from an English friend who had heard about the death of the ex-mayor of Fivizzano, the Big Town about 30 minutes away by car from Codiponte, from Coronavirus. I knew the man. Not a particularly congenial person but still, I was shaken by the news of his death. Brought home… brought uncomfortably home… the unsettling fact of knowing a person who has died from the virus.
I called You-know-who with the news. He had already heard. I vented my shock and panic. You is much like my father: hates hysterics, panic, crazed behaviour. I got a solid 5 minute dose of Be reasonable, please. A mild slap in the face. Better that than a grapefruit.
On the same famous spike on Wednesday last, I drove to the D’Oro grocery store near the Big Town of Aulla. Larder was nude. The store gives me a Senior Citizen’s discount so, I do my grande spesa there. I was prepared, if fermato dai Carabinieri at a road-block, with the proper form filled out with my identity details and the reason why I was out driving. A Mission of Mercy, I’d say. No white wine or, potato-chips. I do eat other things: fish sticks, zucchini and oranges, lots & lots of oranges. The radio was my company on the trip. The news on the hour bludgeoned the airwaves with the Coronavirus situation in Italy mentioning the numbers of sufferers first, then the number of those cured followed by the number of deaths. Then, before you can possibly digest the numbers… in any of the three categories… the announcer bounces on about which soccer player has come down with Coronavirus. Ahhh, Italy. and the Italians. Knowing must be a comfort to many coop-ed up with no soccer games for a good long while on the TV. I was happy with the distraction of driving past cars stopped along my route. Italian newspapers do not have Obituaries. Nope. The custom is to have printed a kind of obituary poster to be pasted up on boards dedicated to community announcements… elections, communal meetings, warnings not to burn until September and deaths. Stopped to read the notice of the ex-mayor’s death. Few bothered with their car’s emergency blinkers.
Flash-mobs have sprouted in Codiponte…
At the sacrosanct Cocktail Hour, people set off firecrackers. My thug Puppy Croesus, scared by the sudden racket, flees to his safe place… My Bed and boroughs to curl amongst the pillows… for the duration. 10 minutes of chaotic noise and Whoops from the populace. Then, silence.
One evening and well after dark, people went outside their abodes and turned their smart and iPhone’s flashlights ON to shine at others doing the same in our village. Could not find my grotesquely expensive new iPhone 11 Pro. Found it later hidden in the cushions… along with crumbs from a bout of crackers & cheese… on the longest Chesterfield sofa and showing its wear from my 95 kilos… a whopping 210 lbs… and those too of the now single Dog in our family, a mighty 37 kilos of solid Weimaraner… he’s going on a diet 81.5 lbs. I will be ready if bonfires become the thing. Have stock-piled under the roof of the legnaia to dry… all the better to Burn, baby, burn… and enough clippings from my extensive Spring pruning and cleaning nel Poggiolo’s garden from the rough business of Winter.
My favourite radio station… the mythic Radio Subasio… regularly plays the Italian National Hymn and a few classics from the Italian playlist… Adriano Celentano, Toto Cutugno… to incite?… encourage? people to step out on a terrace or balcony and sing, sing, sing away self-quarantine of the Lock-down Italy.
Apparently, the Codipontesi have their limits. Beating pots with wooden spoons and singing the Italian National Anthem out a window is one of them.
P.S. No one cares since parking will be vietato, however, Codiponte’s piazzetta is done, but for the last official check for final approval. May or, June. Maybe. Could be in September. Yikes!!!
Stay at home. Play solitaire. Cook. Read a book. Watch movies. Communicate on Whatsapp.
Day 3 Lock-down Codiponte...
Have hardly noticed. I do live in a very back-water place. Leave its confines though and the world is mildly different but not unpleasant. In the meantime…
while a couple of Lombardy provinces outside Milan were shut against the Coronavirus threat, then the entire region of Lombardy was too, quickly followed by the region of il Veneto along with several other provinces from there down to Parma and those few over by the Adriatic coast and down to the city of Pesaro, I was having my own very special health crisis. I thought I had come down with shingles. My general doctor agreed. Gads, I thought…
This and Coronavirus too? Viral over-kill. Better for YouTube. How is this to be bourn? I’ve been good though the last time I went to church was for the Midnight Mass at the Anglican cathedral in Genoa about 20 years ago. So now, what? I’m going to sneeze and wheeze and scratch myself to an early end? Buried with the shame of a rash? Gads.
There came no answer.
Ghastly itching on my head, neck and left arm, headaches often feeling like my cranium was going to explode, gnawing pain on the left side of my neck and a debilitating sense of fatigue. The entire list of symptoms would make themselves felt in waves and, with each new invasion, would become more extreme, more vicious. No rash though, a key element of the herpes zoster virus, AKA, shingles. And another symptom, a later blistering itching on my right hand was out of bounds of the dreaded shingles’ array of symptoms. The virus attacks nerve channels so, rashes, itching and pain fall to one side or the other of the body. The majority I had, but… ? Noting the off-beat indications, Dott. You-know-who, sitting on the longest and nearly completely shot black Chesterfield sofa in the entire world and wrapped in a hat, scarf, sweater and blanket paying court to my complaints and pleas for relief, said… an allergic reaction. So too said a friend in America, whom I had consulted for her vast wealth of medical experience. Digesting the list of symptoms, she emailed back… an allergic reaction. Trudged to my general doctor first thing Monday morning for better meds. I could’ve cared less about a diagnosis. General dottore said I had two things going on… shingles and something else. Oh, OK? However, all I really wanted was… time was a’ wasting… no more itching, no more pain, no more headaches… pleeaaasse! The doctor arranged emergency appointments with a neurologist and a dermatologist, which meant navigating under the decree made last Monday night by the Italian PM and his Council for locking down all of Italy against the Coronavirus threat.
But first, I had to internet over to the Apple-top, consult il Ministero del Interno - Coronavirus website to print off a form and fill it out at the top before leaving my humble abode of il Poggiolo for any of ONLY three permitted outings… by decree… 1) lavoro, 2) grocery shopping and 3) medical appointments/emergencies.
As it turned out, the clinic for the appointments down in the Big Town of Aulla was quite well organised, calm, under control, polite staff with synthetic use-throw-a-way one piece outfits in a weird white, aprons… ???… masks and blue gloves. Chicacosa. And though we, The Patients, had to stay outside and withstand a spray called rain and there’s-snow-in-the-air cold, since only a few people could enter the building at a time, all maintained their composure, their friendliness and their helpfulness to others, many arriving and anxious to know what the new procedure was. All also kept a proper distance from other participants.
The neurologist’s appt. was at 9:00 and the dermatologist was at Noon. VIETATO going to a bar or any place of public gathering in between. Thought of spending time photographing the ONLY statue of Bettino Craxi in Italy, a scandalously corrupt PM in the middle 80’s… the other monuments to his person had been summarily brought down or, BLOWN-UP when he fled to his villa in Tunisia to avoid prosecution for tax fraud, theft, racketeering, graft, etc. Decided not. But then, darned if my Luck wasn’t blowing in my direction. I saw both dottori together. And, within a few minutes of their listening to My Story and me submitting to a physical examination, the collective verdict was unanimous… an allergic reaction. No shingles. A prescription for a new med was slipped to me by a gloved hand and off I drove back to Codiponte past little traffic, few folk walking around, and a nearly empty grocery store. Quiet.
I am very proud of Italy. As my Father would often say… Don’t fight the problem. The Italian Government didn’t. Instead, a seemingly weak PM… burdened with a ridiculous coalition of recalcitrant Italian politicians of many stripes and various low IQ’s… and his Council… a more select group from the same… considered the situation, analyzed the Coronavirus threat, and voted in favour of saving lives and the discomfort of its people despite what will bite even harder… the damage done to the country’s institutions, industries, citizen’s lives and livelihoods… a way of Life. Brave, courageous, compassionate. Hard to have done. Harder to enforce. Hard all the way around. But…
where I live, in Codiponte, Lunigiana, Tuscany, Italy, and the experience outside & inside the clinic in Aulla and later in my favourite grocery store visit to stock up on necessities… white wine and potato chips… I am proud of the Italians too. Sadly, there are always bad apples… prisoners burning mattresses because Visiting Hours were stopped and the absurd disturbances in big city supermarkets to clean the shelves of bottle water… OK, an essential for sure… rubbing alcohol… well, there are safer & better products to use than that but, OK… gel… the silliest of feel good goo of today’s PC hygiene… and…? And…? And toilet paper? I don’t mean to sound like Marie Antoinette but, if they don’t have toilet paper, can’t they use their bidets? They use less precious H2O than showers, guys.
The positive side of the current Coronavirus crisis is we will know pretty well what is needed to be done when a true and real-live KILLER VIRUS hits The World and the forced changes to lives and livelihoods… ie waste not, want not… might be a good thing for our Future, don’t you think? I do. You too?
Pulse on Coronavirus...
Italians still maintain time-honed methods of communication, exchange… gossip. This is due primarily to their tenaciously held customs & habits of where & how they congregate. Despite Our Times and reliance upon our iPhones, laptops and mixing with those adjuncts for news & social media, Italians gravitate to person-to-person contact. Mediterranean. Thank God. The obvious places in Italy are of everyday life… at church, grocery shopping, waiting to see il dottore in his/her/their sala d’aspetto, the mechanic’s!!!, in the post office and, the best and most frequented place by far, is inside a bar. You can stop by, hang out to chat… listen, flipping past headlines in a national newspaper splayed out on a wobbly center-post table. Any Italian village worth its salt must have its bar.
An aside…
salt is an historically heavily taxed item and once was sold only in officially sanctioned shops called tabaccherie. Shows you the ruthlessness of the Italian State insisting that it must have a percentage of an essential commodity for Life & Limb, such as salt. Doesn’t end there either. Anything the State feels the tug of necessity, it socks a tax to pay… beyond salt, on a pack of cigarettes, a car-tag, un bollo to stick on a document, such as una passaporto, to validate its importance… and can be had & paid for at a tabaccheria.
Another aside…
One branch of You-know-who’s extensive family… he sports the last name in his freight train long cognome. Do not ask his names. Many. The Virgin Mary figures somewhere in the middle. It is why I refer to him simply as You, short from the You-know-who… held a monopoly on the sale of salt in Italy for 400 years. Then, in the 1920’s, they moved on to manufacture & export of heavy domestic appliances. Less hassle, more money, I was told many villas and palazzi to keep up, not forgetting the number of members calling themselves, family. OK.
Back to the bar…
genius is if the bar has a tabaccheria on its premises. Fiscal paradise is if you can also play the lotteria while downing un espresso.
Back to congregating…
any issue of interest in the moment is fodder at a bar. Lately, Coronavirus has shoved all else off the counter of conversation. No matter the bar, where, how big or small, spiffy or scuzzy, the impending DOOM of this viral infection is the absolute banter, since Italy shut the country down. Self-imposed quarantine. OK.
Yesterday, a couple I often see in the mornings at my preferred bar, were sitting on stools at the counter with their Pitbull puppy timidly hovering on a rather sparkly feminine leash, talking up the bar-man about the latest on Coronavirus. Exchanging the latest. The local authorities had that very morning shut-down a high school and sent everyone home, because the disinfectant the janitorial staff had used on the facility two days before was deemed insufficiently strong enough to KILL, KILL, KILL the Coronavirus by the ASL. That’s the Italian Health Dept. I WAS ALREADY UP on this tidbit. Got it at the post-office. There, the telephone rang with the news. The new post-mistress relayed the HOT info. I felt special. Ready to confront all else on the topic for the day. The three chatters noticed my entrance temporarily putting a stop to their conversation though only long enough for them to risk enquiring about The American Perspective & Situation with the Coronavirus. I am inured to my show halting presence and, especially, since I am a lone & visible American in these precincts. The singular spokesperson on anything relating to the country of my birth but, no longer my home. I brought them up to date. The virus had hardly entered the US and it mutated. Coronavirus 2? Must’ve been culture shock just off the cruise-ship or, the time difference from Asia. This provoked alarm amongst my bar mates. I braked. Noted before me three faces full of worry, fear… threatened. I sought to calm the waters of my gaffe. It was short-lived. The Master of the Pitbull took the floor… to say he was worn-out by all the broo-ha-ha, no alternative news bites offered by the news media… like, to know what Turkey is up to would be a relief!!!… and, if it was his Destiny to fall prey to the Coronavirus and die, so be it. It’s all written down anyway. Gosh. Already written down? Catholic fatalism. How did I miss that? Must be we Americans do not believe in Destiny. Too deterministic for it. The others nodded in agreement. The pulse was taken. I said Good-bye to all and headed for home.
The couple were again at the bar this morning. I apologised for my statements yesterday. If I haven’t said this…
I like this couple. They are friendly, lively, joking, everyone is a friend. The volume level at the bar rises when they walk in. You are wrapped up by their Good Vibes and carried away. I spend so much of my time alone… the Dog does not count for Human contact & company. The Croesus-person does count for light, enjoyable entertainment, as he exits woods with the part of a tree in his mouth. The bar allows Human contact at an easy distance & involvement.
The Master of the Pitbull brushed it off as unnecessary. How could I think there would be any offence? I was simply telling them what I knew. No problem. The Mistress of the Pitbull spoke up between puffs on a cigarette. She had endured un brutto passaggio a few years back with breast cancer. She was told exactly what she needed to know, she was given everything necessary and all was put into action to confront her personal health crisis. Yes, also painful yet, a simpler, solid, direct episode which, she won thanks to how help came down the pike. But, this Coronavirus? She said the scare tactics… this number of cases, this number of deaths, first and foremost… by the news media and their contradictory voices & information and also from the very source responsible to provide information, services, facilities and procedures to clearly confront a crisis, any crisis, the Italian Government. To her it was missing and certainly not helped by instituting procedures without thinking through their effectiveness, practicality or, the consequences upon the Italian people. To protect yes, but effective to the situation. So far, no. She told me she was worried, scared… threatened. Vuoi un caffe’? More pulse of the People. We all went inside the bar to warm up. Snow was in the air.
P.S…
Since writing the words above and before Save & Publish, the situation has evolved here in the Lunigiana and in our small village of Codiponte. The virus is in our neighborhood. So much for thinking our back-water was safe. One young man in our village has contracted the virus. He is a volunteer at a medical & ambulance service. He had transported a man just off a boat suffering from Coronavirus to a forced quarantine at his home. Two days later the young man fell victim to the virus. There are now others in the Lunigiana. It was Destined to happen.
Rumour has it that hospitals are sending home all non-serious patients, prohibiting only the most urgent operations and other initiatives to liberate the hospitals of beds and facilities to deal with the expected avalanche of Coronavirus victims. We’ll see.
You-know-who suggested I stop frequenting my bar or, any bar. Seems the congenial contact in such localities is just the match of a Coronavirus carrier to others not carrying the dreaded disease. Puppy and I will stick to the woods. Me to photograph, he to seek the perfect stick. Odd in a country like Italian with people like the Italians not to go somewhere to be with folk.
Coronavirus in Italy...
Coronavirus, which got its start in Wuhan, China from human contact with an infected animal at a food market in the city, arrived in Italy last week. About 20 other countries had visitations at the same moment. The few Italian cases quadrupled in 24 hours. By mid-weekend, the cases had quadrupled again along with announcements of deaths from the infection. Worrying. The World’s attention turned upon Italy.
The majority were in two outlying provinces of Milan but, not in the city of millions. The Lombardy Region decided to put the two provinces in a lock-down: can’t get in, can’t get out. The World riveted its attention ONLY on Italy. The thinking of the Italian authority was… had the Chinese government sought to contain the virus’s spread from the first cases with a similar lock-down… an easily identifiable strain of the same SARS virus… a global scare of contagion might have been avoided. The attempt to contain the virus’s spread to more populated areas of Northern Italy was much publicised on the TV, radio and Internet. The last went viral.
We now have two rampant and insidious viruses.
One is an illness which threatens primarily… old people, sufferers from lung diseases, individuals pre-disposed to lung illnesses or, those who have issues with their immune systems.
The other is the viral dissemination of mis-information about Coronavirus. Its consequences may destroy people’s livelihoods and well-being, a country’s economy… I’m talking Italy but this applies to any country effected by the Coronavirus effect… and long after the virus has taken its course and petered out.
Coronavirus or, COVID-19, the name of this particular virus is… is a common virus which causes an infection in your sinuses or, upper throat. Symptoms of fever, coughing, sneezing and shortness of breath may occur as the illness develops strength or, descends into the respiratory tract. Deteriorate may lead to pneumonia and possible death.
400,000 people die each year from the flu. So far the death toll from Coronavirus is less about 3,500. If that.
There is no vaccine nor are antibiotics effective. As soon as symptoms are noticed, the best treatments are those for the common cold or, flu: plenty of rest, drink fluids, take aspirin for fever, use disposable tissues for sneezing or, clearing sinuses… don’t forget to wash your hands too… and restrict contact with others until the symptoms pass. Stay calm.
My information comes from my partner of 21 years, You, who is a doctor and a head of the ophthalmology department of a major Italian hospital. He completed his entire medical training at 24 years of age. Residency included, guys. He worked as a general practitioner and surgeon for 5 years before returning to medical school to specialised in ophthalmology treatments and surgery. He has worked for the Italian health scheme and in his own private practise for 40 years. I rest with his experience, knowledge and Good Sense which is what you have just read.
Outside an Italian supermarket…
P.S. China has 5 billion people. 80,000 have been infected by Coronavirus and deaths have been less than 3,000. Do the Math to put all this into perspective, if the Truth of the disease doesn’t work.