Got out & got back...
You and I were reunited. Finally last Friday. I got a hug. You got one back simultaneously and a big smack on the lips too. He had steered me to an out-of-the-way corner in the parking lot of the restaurant where we had met for these sorts of shenanigans and a meal. You had come down from Genoa after a very necessary barber’s appointment to trim his unruly coiffure and me, having no such need, arrived fresh & unshaven from Codiponte. No Social Distancing for us. And what bravery too. Intimacy with a COVID-19 dottore. Now I read on the BBC about the global health authorities worrying that many folk may carry the virus yet, show no symptoms whatsoever. God help us! My own personal Coronavirus doctor says Social Distancing is The Most Important Measure. There are exceptions apparently, ie the above special encounter. Next is washing hands with soap & water. Masks and gloves are a courtesy, shows responsibility, thinking of others and not just yourself. Of lesser importance.
Feeling frisky… could’ve been the hugs… after a pleasant though short weekend with You, I hit the road yesterday in my scuzzy SUV and drove to Pisa to the IKEA there. Quest for duvet covers and baskets. A glorious day to do so. But first…
a stop at My Preferred Bar for an out-of-Lockdown cappuccino. Having un caffe’ before doing something on your Task List is A Tradition in Italy. And, if possible, a church afterwards to light a candle. Got to cover all critical elements of Life here. I elected not to do the candle thing. The nearest church to My Preferred Bar is a hike to reach and I was on a schedule. The cappuccio was delicious. Since Liberation Day on the 3rd of June, the bar must have submitted before to a good scrub and a clearing-out to within a millimetre of its post-Lockdown Life. No La Nazione newspaper for the Barbanera horroscope. A pity. How can one do anything without celestial input? Virgo is in agitation too. Discovered an enormous but, soundly constructed plexiglass barrier sul banco del bar, and with a small opening to pass your cappuccino to you. Nothing gerry-rigged like at the creepy bank branch I am now obligated to frequent. The consequence of a pre-COVID-19 restructuring. Ample containers of hand gel at the entrance. And, an outdoor piazza with plastic green grass carpets, tables & chairs AND umbrellas to promote the all-important dictates of Social Distancing. Ate up a few parking spaces. Just as well since it contains…. key word… the confusion with how Italians swing a car to STOP for a run into a bar. Spacial sense is not a forte of Italians. Just look at their gardens. Anyway, all good for the bar owner. An amiable chap and was rather glad to see me hobble in. He asked me about my hips. Had something happened during my 3 + 1/2 month absence? I replied it wasn’t really the hips but, too much heavy yard work. He smiled. I paid and resumed my jaunt.
Shook off the lingering sense of Lockdown on the drive South. Wind blowing through the open driver’s window on my bald head, little traffic and very few trucks, the SUV humming along as I watched the autostrada and occasionally admired the stunning sky-scapes above the Apuane Mtns. & Apennines. Rarely do I see such monumental cloud constructions and of every type on the chart. High above was this extraordinary azure sky. A crystalline clear blue. One reminding me Italy is on the same latitude as Toronto, Canada… more or less, a Northern sky.
I went to McDonald’s. It’s in IKEA’s neighbourhood. Sorrowful one too. Huge boxes for buildings with vast parking lots next door to wildernesses of tall weeds and partially completed construction sites. More huge boxes to come. Scenes from post-WWII movies of Neorealismo Italiano. IKEA is the most visible. However, the Double Golden Arches beckoned me to come hither for a double cheeseburger… the pickle slapped on cheese and a beef patty, we think, is a capping glory of fast-food architecture… a large French Fries and a Coke Zero. Yellow tape on the pavement showed me where I could stand outside in line to enter for proper Social Distancing, hand-gel and groovy Italian Blu plastic gloves were provided. Few folk inside. There, mostly to place their orders for delivery to their tables outside. Is this an Italian invention? Service to your table at a Mac’s? Seems un-fast-food-ish…
back when il Poggiolo was under construction and when the builder had finished the complex of new roofs, he asked if I was intending to host a meal to celebrate. Had never heard of that but, thought it a great idea. My English Friend in Codiponte confirmed the local Topping-off the New Roof Party custom. I whipped up lots of stuff to eat… from torte salate to una pasta calda to un dolce. On the appointed day, the builder, his crew of 6 and a few privileged guests showed up around 5 in the afternoon on a pleasant early October day to partake della festa. I made a little speech of thanks and then, invited the assembled to serve themselves. No one moved. I re-issued the invitation to please go to the buffet table on the Loggia and help yourself. Still no one moved. My English Friend quietly stepped over and whispered to me… Gli italiani non si servono da mangiare ad una festa. Dovresti farlo tu! So, I climbed up to the Loggia and started piling food onto plates and handing them out. Suddenly, I had 15 people clamouring to be the first. McDonald’s has had to do the same, I suppose.
Done with eating, I drove over to IKEA, parked in the D for Dog lot of cars and walked over to the Entrance. A masked & gloved employee in a dark Blue combat style uniform came up to me holding what looked like a gun. We exchanged Buon Giorno’s… mine was forceful yet, with a tinge of reticence… while the young man pointed what looked like a gun at my forehead, a bright red light lit up like a laser tag, and where a bullet might have shot out. All I got for the sudden fright was a… Okay, si puo entrare… or, You’re good to go. Grazie. Off I trotted to the separate Linen and Basket Departments. What a mess. People everywhere, scurrying about with their carts or, yellow carrier-bags or, not, and blocking aisles where I needed to go. Social Distancing was a Bump & Grind. Dottore You would have been appalled. I was. Then what? Could not find what I had in mind from the last visit to IKEA four months ago. Stock was upside down, topsy-turvy, out of regimental order or, non-existent. The store must’ve liquidated their personnel during Lockdown. No one was about. Certainly, there wasn’t anyone visible to put the place back into some semblance of order. THERE ARE RULES FOR DISPLAY!!! I used to work in retail. I know. I debated various possible candidates for both single & double duvet covers. Cancelled most for being too expensive. Euro 80 for a piece of fake linen in cotone? You would have had my head if he knew. Then, he called. Must’ve sensed I was going to spend Euro’s. I explained. He suggested No. I said OK. He rang off. Shoved into the bright yellow carrier bag one single and one double to try them out and headed with Hope for better luck in the Basket Department. Dinky things. Miserable selection. Anxious to leave… consumer disappointment can be difficult to bear, if unexpected OR, unwanted… I picked up two 50’s looking basket things I discovered later were too small for holding even 1/10th of our pillow archive at il Poggiolo. Fled to the self-service cash stand… and without picking up more stuff which had caught my fancy… used a laser gun similar to the one previously seen to scan my scanty purchases, paid, left. D for Dog. Whew!!! Oh, well… I may have to shop Maison du Monde. The French competition. Mais oui!!! At least, I got out. Had a caffe’. Ate a burger. Enjoyed the views. Arrived safe & sound. Home Sweet Home? Yes! The Joys of Lockdown? Well, I’m not sure I’d go that far but, there’s certainly Peace & Tranquility and one very happy Puppy waiting to have me back home again. The drive was nice.
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.
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 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.