tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70742020900315640262024-03-27T01:35:50.811-05:00Pleasant LivingTwo designers creating a roadmap to a simpler more fulfilling lifestyleRick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.comBlogger576125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-51787903685783791632022-08-12T06:05:00.000-05:002022-08-12T06:05:03.431-05:00HOW TO KNOW YOU'RE OVER THE HILL<p><span style="color: #c27ba0;">2010</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghksmeJIjietO98NgVw53uiPTDT-4vfhA5g6ZY7uEqz7JJghVanC0mKjKl5IUjm4z2NRm7CzN_BVyZC9n4R3XDuALpMJOQZuaPFphXcXP7GGuYYEPCpo2PEXk7cwdzeazCVcQRA4mfI4QqL10e9hfpQ5jdcm8XUvX4-Rmox3u7cDEc6pZD-njbVQ71JA/s1863/RICK&LEE%20IN%20THE%20SNOW%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1272" data-original-width="1863" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghksmeJIjietO98NgVw53uiPTDT-4vfhA5g6ZY7uEqz7JJghVanC0mKjKl5IUjm4z2NRm7CzN_BVyZC9n4R3XDuALpMJOQZuaPFphXcXP7GGuYYEPCpo2PEXk7cwdzeazCVcQRA4mfI4QqL10e9hfpQ5jdcm8XUvX4-Rmox3u7cDEc6pZD-njbVQ71JA/w400-h272/RICK&LEE%20IN%20THE%20SNOW%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Back in 2010 after we had moved out of New York to Madison and were trying to re-establish ourselves I started this blog using a tag line that jested of already having reached the pinnacle of being over the hill. It was meant as an indictment about how we're now riding the down side of a rollercoaster and it's moving at mach speed. The upside of this is the thrill you get with the downward rush, the downside is the ride is over way too quickly. I thought the tag line was a bit tongue in cheek and then I worried that there might actually be more truth than fiction here. Here are some of the reasons why I was concerned a decade ago that we were perhaps sliding down that rollercoaster rather than ascending it:<p></p><p>1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When your fourteen year-old daughter smirks at your bare legs accusing you of shaving them and you have to explain how several decades of wearing too tight jeans has rubbed the hair of you leg. Nature's depilatory has finally won out and now my legs are as smooth as an octogenarian's bottom.</p><p>2.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you take off for the supermarket because you ran out of toilet paper and all you come home with is a box of double cream filled Oreos.</p><p>3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you think Leslie Jordan is beginning to look pretty hot.</p><p>4.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you realize you haven't changed your underwear in two days and you don't care because you know nobody else will.</p><p>5.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you can't read the chyron on your 52" HDTV even with your glasses on.</p><p>6.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> When the guy next door asks your partner if he can meet his dad and the dad turns out to be you.</p><p>7.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you realize you bought your winter dress coat in 1982 and you don't consider it be vintage.</p><p>8.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you walk past a plate glass window and assume the reflection peering back at you is some old homeless person wearing your clothes</p><p>9.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When you hear Phil on Modern Family refer to WTF as "why the face" and you don't get the joke.</p><p>10.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When your partner of thirty years calls you from his colonoscopy and says he has cancer*.</p><p>*Twelve years later and still cancer free and perhaps I was wrong a decade ago. Maybe we're still ascending.</p><p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-67745172284128048682022-08-03T11:53:00.000-05:002022-08-03T11:53:17.990-05:00ASSISTED LIVING<p><span style="color: #76a5af;">MAKING PEACE WITH GROWING OLDER</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x3MisMf8z_Qc2H-P6d7z99Ts5k7dK_0x6o0B_g9UHI8K2ylq5Q_Wkmcoyn8gCH3hJWLx-4Vxo1RaixbrrVDSNXt5xP1lmlmVP-d0Kt9VQVyNIWtCK5esb6DJ7r3E21IcfRfT9ffh13Z14kfz3jblyZ9QCwfqLYQ87gkuvmYYtm87ZWbtrUcf5t9jNw/s1280/IMG_3478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x3MisMf8z_Qc2H-P6d7z99Ts5k7dK_0x6o0B_g9UHI8K2ylq5Q_Wkmcoyn8gCH3hJWLx-4Vxo1RaixbrrVDSNXt5xP1lmlmVP-d0Kt9VQVyNIWtCK5esb6DJ7r3E21IcfRfT9ffh13Z14kfz3jblyZ9QCwfqLYQ87gkuvmYYtm87ZWbtrUcf5t9jNw/w300-h400/IMG_3478.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I have a client. He calls his mother by her first name. He never says, "my mother" or "mom". She's ninety. She's tiny. She's frail, but she's feisty. She's a widow living in a post-war rambling classic six just off of Fifth Avenue. Age is creeping up on her.<p></p><p>They've removed the knobs from her stove in case she should forget to turn them off even though she no longer cooks. She has full time care. Her son visits her regularly and takes her to the park. He buys her books with large print that she reads but doesn't remember. She watches TV during the day on a chair she pulls up inches from the screen. She smiles a lot. She has opinions. </p><p>Now her son and his brother have decided it's time to move her into an assisted living facility. She toured three with her son, each one in New York City. She chose the newest one. She seemed to respond to the luxury. It's close to Bloomingdales although she doesn't go out shopping much anymore.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB5FCqYbti_IhWx_HwfjpyLhivxHxyiRCT64f002I4M7f0uR3obi3G0ZyYCdYKww5LHhFZpj_m4DN_dN-Z_rImmqEj5o0OlNTNpYTk4ecJJvSsF1cDIiyyQHLO4VYJZcEGqDArbquAX7bWfvlE5Z7e4d5arJWm9UtfY1MxHPzrT0NeRtKIjrWw_Je7cQ/s2000/ROOFTOP%20PATIO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB5FCqYbti_IhWx_HwfjpyLhivxHxyiRCT64f002I4M7f0uR3obi3G0ZyYCdYKww5LHhFZpj_m4DN_dN-Z_rImmqEj5o0OlNTNpYTk4ecJJvSsF1cDIiyyQHLO4VYJZcEGqDArbquAX7bWfvlE5Z7e4d5arJWm9UtfY1MxHPzrT0NeRtKIjrWw_Je7cQ/w300-h400/ROOFTOP%20PATIO.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It came with all the amenities. There is a yoga room, an art studio, beautiful lounges on each floor, a rooftop garden and the attention to service you would expect with a luxury facility in the heart of New York City. It will be harder to get to the park from here but the terrace is just down the hall from the penthouse apartment she and her son have picked.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW2827hyTIQOtbALWMVyNyJ6mAuJvDYvjjcskOETOPnVRNnDKBJ24xIbSLOzbFlGVL_GcgblkK0fOdD_FCyy1xyYjhQs3ru8lHwcreeQ2IEkA-hJziZ6Z25saif64K-peKAYOxGOU_DSskVyKMxVc4tVy2Dhcij9zCnafynWgBnZVFk9aD3GSZYOdMlQ/s1280/IMG_6199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW2827hyTIQOtbALWMVyNyJ6mAuJvDYvjjcskOETOPnVRNnDKBJ24xIbSLOzbFlGVL_GcgblkK0fOdD_FCyy1xyYjhQs3ru8lHwcreeQ2IEkA-hJziZ6Z25saif64K-peKAYOxGOU_DSskVyKMxVc4tVy2Dhcij9zCnafynWgBnZVFk9aD3GSZYOdMlQ/w300-h400/IMG_6199.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The first time I came into the building there was a violin concert going on in the second floor main lounge. The calming classical music covered our footsteps as we made our way to the elevator taking us to the sixteenth floor and the new apartment.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NArltu6xV5av_Pjt7X6hxjlMh8KyCFuZC8zpaOanMO83vsG9rX1CZ9mPQGNf016xb7YFTFzSJXUpZHvC0HBDVbbxun1rQzclmMShZT-p3VtRkeNqEUWLp-m_7FWODk5PbYWsYRTd35K62osObQbn8TKZGHAAghvGW2p6q9GdOiQ1bLurI1sGkHgpmw/s1280/IMG_1780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NArltu6xV5av_Pjt7X6hxjlMh8KyCFuZC8zpaOanMO83vsG9rX1CZ9mPQGNf016xb7YFTFzSJXUpZHvC0HBDVbbxun1rQzclmMShZT-p3VtRkeNqEUWLp-m_7FWODk5PbYWsYRTd35K62osObQbn8TKZGHAAghvGW2p6q9GdOiQ1bLurI1sGkHgpmw/w300-h400/IMG_1780.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>My client opened the door to my challenge: an open area attached to two small rooms and a bath. The entry opened into a kitchenette with a refrigerator, cabinets and a sink but no stove. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnWOwuyP7NbA-qm1AoL01BKQnHt_a9dMSnuejdWyXQEDd4p3LUBDZ9AsuMJmt4BbGkpw69CvbuGFPLolYXpGftl2q-HMIdLpCBf1aocXiLVz4ml2O3f_fQoDVVQYfSjj8V1QVBmsm1cOjQswz8Iz-GmWpBs9QA-yLxKQOXkVWeLMI4zuZ4bbB8c9AfQ/s1280/IMG_5497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnWOwuyP7NbA-qm1AoL01BKQnHt_a9dMSnuejdWyXQEDd4p3LUBDZ9AsuMJmt4BbGkpw69CvbuGFPLolYXpGftl2q-HMIdLpCBf1aocXiLVz4ml2O3f_fQoDVVQYfSjj8V1QVBmsm1cOjQswz8Iz-GmWpBs9QA-yLxKQOXkVWeLMI4zuZ4bbB8c9AfQ/w300-h400/IMG_5497.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>This, a completed bath and drapes on the windows were the only things provided. It rented empty and the tenants were required to furnish them themselves. The apartment had two smaller rooms intended to be two bedrooms for a shared apartment. My client wanted to give his mother more room and had asked me to transform these rooms into a bedroom and a living room. The proportions were perfect for his tiny mother. Within a week the contract was signed with the facility and then another contract was signed between the client and us.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAzPGGa8aypoSsmvHIW7m4unXXbfmFKXBe3jnaqaWooB8lKgVr-eQuvYGnlo9eDd7XD4PTwKE_PKl9CQlcW0sKi342dxL3xk4se9zdT2QdDBxDMnJp7q-5cqcmoVR-_OPQwaoORHj2mtoDgvftRNF92RUhneoLDshaesPUg1iXvf3eDVhgli8cysDRg/s1648/PLAN%204%20LINDA%20SEGAL.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1648" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAzPGGa8aypoSsmvHIW7m4unXXbfmFKXBe3jnaqaWooB8lKgVr-eQuvYGnlo9eDd7XD4PTwKE_PKl9CQlcW0sKi342dxL3xk4se9zdT2QdDBxDMnJp7q-5cqcmoVR-_OPQwaoORHj2mtoDgvftRNF92RUhneoLDshaesPUg1iXvf3eDVhgli8cysDRg/w400-h310/PLAN%204%20LINDA%20SEGAL.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Work began immediately with drawings and layouts. With the signing of the contracts the clock began ticking. We needed to get his mother in the apartment as soon as we could. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pYVDmrTcQuqLeRWCIrspz9iDXI7snq27zqd102IrSuLU7aFB1Jpa-8rM8wCJFlCAadE5lp_bXP8Tp5w_Ml_PpXSvPe3UohZGbpBm9-uIZuGKyJzwIoWE082D3sRaMh53wAwk9soYSnGFqxkwkcSh5u0XSAPc743JIAJR1hgXVLdwdREPbtw0pO1Mqg/s1064/IMG_5499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="737" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pYVDmrTcQuqLeRWCIrspz9iDXI7snq27zqd102IrSuLU7aFB1Jpa-8rM8wCJFlCAadE5lp_bXP8Tp5w_Ml_PpXSvPe3UohZGbpBm9-uIZuGKyJzwIoWE082D3sRaMh53wAwk9soYSnGFqxkwkcSh5u0XSAPc743JIAJR1hgXVLdwdREPbtw0pO1Mqg/w278-h400/IMG_5499.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>The easy part was coming up with a design. The hard part was finding in-stock or quick ship pieces that we could purchase to fill out the apartment. We were starting from scratch other than a few mementos to connect her to her past.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgROiiRn0uYI7F5ca3zW8NBaBl_87-2hBX2wXlQm7bsNKYG9wie0t2qC5NoPlUqzW1eDMlpQhHADYjBdVLcUtQ47zBRdDY16Eg5yYYIebimKkYFgdAeLryMBeGj2PkwJvMkUStDEC8Hq5HF7F3HpIgnoNvr2qW6JRuEM3TROwVh3ohQBsMC97lx8ers7A/s4032/BDRMDRESSER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgROiiRn0uYI7F5ca3zW8NBaBl_87-2hBX2wXlQm7bsNKYG9wie0t2qC5NoPlUqzW1eDMlpQhHADYjBdVLcUtQ47zBRdDY16Eg5yYYIebimKkYFgdAeLryMBeGj2PkwJvMkUStDEC8Hq5HF7F3HpIgnoNvr2qW6JRuEM3TROwVh3ohQBsMC97lx8ers7A/w300-h400/BDRMDRESSER.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Art from her many travels with her husband were the connecting element to the new apartment and her past. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rRunrahomwbMz2pm80K0dwOVGhPabPNYOC6Z27oV_OjeWjPl2yKaM7xM7npkPQlU51XZ41r33dd5q9s_PCKnbIMff0dYUYaMyydoitg4AOHtH1Ug_3d-KDIUHHIUawSUmNLv6TQFKQ6X-cfjrxbkE4W_awUA6UaMZeBo7rBUhwz_P7AfYtH8Bk3M3A/s3954/LVGRM%20LONGSHOT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3954" data-original-width="2966" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rRunrahomwbMz2pm80K0dwOVGhPabPNYOC6Z27oV_OjeWjPl2yKaM7xM7npkPQlU51XZ41r33dd5q9s_PCKnbIMff0dYUYaMyydoitg4AOHtH1Ug_3d-KDIUHHIUawSUmNLv6TQFKQ6X-cfjrxbkE4W_awUA6UaMZeBo7rBUhwz_P7AfYtH8Bk3M3A/w300-h400/LVGRM%20LONGSHOT.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The timeline of completion was critical. We wanted to get her in the apartment as soon as possible.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzayV8O-urH5e8Ls8R-aVD-6hyjDV3rY5iX5J52zPeq0dC7GkFa8sgg02Td3vBDmZKKWVZ8klWANOxnwi6bTc3cSEoWttTwLaTtevsJU0IGEXcJRmfaC_Djwbcz0sjBFBXmI0PZ7xf175mv423KOSEzHkjgFWQGQFnNfIFyvXKT2bfLwrmrVe6XP9nZA/s3706/DININGTO%20LVGRM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3706" data-original-width="2780" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzayV8O-urH5e8Ls8R-aVD-6hyjDV3rY5iX5J52zPeq0dC7GkFa8sgg02Td3vBDmZKKWVZ8klWANOxnwi6bTc3cSEoWttTwLaTtevsJU0IGEXcJRmfaC_Djwbcz0sjBFBXmI0PZ7xf175mv423KOSEzHkjgFWQGQFnNfIFyvXKT2bfLwrmrVe6XP9nZA/w300-h400/DININGTO%20LVGRM.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We gave ourselves two months. Anything with a delivery time longer than eight weeks we would have to take off our list and find an alternative. Some how it worked.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiSsBNY6Jdzx07hinYZ9Kxz7LZPwpZW2P6cKSW98I32e0GP6cyrlgZjuITPo39RlApUDqyszxP-V-o4vz3tmG_G9cjwGOAflMHo8ZQB4ME8zVAT9lEKWVlr0kqSeMigLX1kn5GXgqSvafysT7NTwk58vj3-Q-8zxDK7uRTvXMj4-bXgFanBXJ105xkQ/s3734/BDRM%20HORIZ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2800" data-original-width="3734" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiSsBNY6Jdzx07hinYZ9Kxz7LZPwpZW2P6cKSW98I32e0GP6cyrlgZjuITPo39RlApUDqyszxP-V-o4vz3tmG_G9cjwGOAflMHo8ZQB4ME8zVAT9lEKWVlr0kqSeMigLX1kn5GXgqSvafysT7NTwk58vj3-Q-8zxDK7uRTvXMj4-bXgFanBXJ105xkQ/w400-h300/BDRM%20HORIZ.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The rooms are now full. She moves in at the end of the week. I've grown very fond of her. I'm hoping she will let me visit from time to time.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-64184033865792572752022-07-27T20:11:00.000-05:002022-07-27T20:11:02.397-05:00FIRST CLASS<p><span style="color: #c27ba0;"> TRAVELING WELL DRESSED</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOoXNJcrnHIxP9_S_QVR3mnk7Xi7rX4ep8TEhVOIgY2fByMuw1c_V7l_x_7pDgFYTkkeOTZSi3u8uGmgJ-BBprQgO2lb2FPcpzORxURcEWAmRsfXrlbBE2s6OLEGDvWvLxpwfleYQUI-svWIrIxxsxn4Giag4yTzSKmSb2GsYdX1HXaWXjSWti0aiJw/s4032/IMG_6190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOoXNJcrnHIxP9_S_QVR3mnk7Xi7rX4ep8TEhVOIgY2fByMuw1c_V7l_x_7pDgFYTkkeOTZSi3u8uGmgJ-BBprQgO2lb2FPcpzORxURcEWAmRsfXrlbBE2s6OLEGDvWvLxpwfleYQUI-svWIrIxxsxn4Giag4yTzSKmSb2GsYdX1HXaWXjSWti0aiJw/w300-h400/IMG_6190.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I set my alarm for 3:38am. It was unintentional. I like precision but last night I was too tired to spin the dial on my iPhone to 3:40 or push it back to 3:35, either choice a bit more reflective of my overly regimented personality. When my trumpeting ring tone went off I was in the middle of what I remember was a dream having something to do with being scolded as a child over dirty underwear and the embarrassment of being found with soiled fruit-of-the-looms in a multi car crash. It was a dream I was willing to rouse out of. I had showered the night before, packed what little I needed to return to the city and laid out my clothes knowing I'd only left myself twenty-two minutes to spritz some deodorant, brush my teeth and dress before leaving for the airport at precisely for o'clock. My flight was at six. My daughter had volunteered to get up and drive me to the Dane County Airport about a twenty-minute drive from the house. <p></p><p>Traffic was light. I counted three other cars on the road all the way up to the turnoff onto the road leading to the airport. Construction was in full swing at the airport forcing us to drive into the parking lot where Emmy dropped me off. As sweet as she is the showing of affection is not something she is particularly comfortable with especially with her parents. She allowed me to give her a little peck on the check before I grabbed my satchel and computer bag and headed into the terminal.</p><p>The heat wave of the day before had broken, but apparently some travelers hadn't heard the weather report. I'm very old school when it comes to the appropriate dress code for airplane travel. Looking at the other travelers dressed mostly in shirts and wrinkled t-shirts making their way through the parking lot and into the check-in area I realized the dress code was clearly of my own concoction. Men in sleeveless t-shirts and girls in Daisy Dukes are not people I want to share an aisle with. My travel attire of loafers with socks (I can't believe people are willing to doff their shoes and expose their bare feet to airport carpeting rubbed by thousands of previous athlete footed passengers), jeans with creases, a pressed white shirt (actually it was perma-pressed), a Ralph Lauren vest and a linen sports coat knowing how cold they sometimes keep the inside of the cabin was the casual but confident look I was going for. A big plus of this look is that it can be a little intimidating to other travelers. On Southwest where there are no assigned seats even if there is only one unclaimed seat on the entire flight it is usually the seat next to me. It also helps that I take an aisle seat requiring anyone who wants a seat in my aisle to have to crawl over me to get there. </p><p>This flight wasn't on Southwest but on Delta. My family hates my loyalty to Southwest and disdain for Delta but now that Southwest has given up all its direct flights to New York I've given up my A-List status with Southwest and become a lowly Delta flyer. I was now flying in an assigned seat with absolutely no power to object to a hairy arm sweating on our adjoining armrest. </p><p>Before the flight I found a vacant leather club chair to sit in against the wall opposite my gate. It was now about fifteen minutes before our flight was about to begin the boarding process when over the airport intercom came "Can Leroy Melahn please come to the La Guardia flight check-in desk". Okay, so now you all know my given first name. As a teenager I had thought of doing what many do who don't like their given names. I thought I might try to go with the initials of my first and middle names that would be LC, but when you say LC Melahn it upped the anti on my getting gender bullied. I feared people would confuse me with my aunt Elsie and as a teenager I had enough trouble with gender identity to give others the opportunity to push the point. Lee seemed the easiest way out. There wasn't much I could do with my last name, a name that is constantly butchered. So my first reaction to hearing my name over the intercom was a curious sense of mild shock. The person making the announcement didn't try to put an "A" between the h and n in Melahn. Nor did they come out with a chiding "Melonhead" the way my siblings and I have had to endure for most of our lives, but instead gave a correct pronunciation. It came out as "Milan" like the city in Italy. I was startled but then concerned. Had I left something at security, had there been a problem with my ticket? Then I remembered how they had pronounced my name correctly so maybe someone I knew was playing some sort of airport trick on me. That was quickly followed by the concern that something had happened at home and they were going to tell me some awful news. I gathered all my stuff and went up to the counter.</p><p>After I introduced myself the man behind the counter did a once over and then said,"Mr. Melahn would you like to be upgraded to first class?" </p><p>"What?" Startled the unspoken subtext was this was a ruse to get me to pay for an upgrade I didn't purchase at the beginning.</p><p>"Can we upgrade you to first class?"</p><p>"Sure"</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0VwaqLHdFSmu4ZsKHOPS3zeFQxBIag89k0WLJp6KcQta89DBzRN-cSDipx7HKTWvLHfdv-NLSSNGOrm9i_dxLDCq_xwdZRrd88moq3ulAJW1dSatIOv3fYYxV2yhpU6BCrQTiVJvK1G5OV5j7vpQfaoBja3eppwNtaiEsbEg9IoTu_v5r03yS4c5ug/s4032/IMG_6192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0VwaqLHdFSmu4ZsKHOPS3zeFQxBIag89k0WLJp6KcQta89DBzRN-cSDipx7HKTWvLHfdv-NLSSNGOrm9i_dxLDCq_xwdZRrd88moq3ulAJW1dSatIOv3fYYxV2yhpU6BCrQTiVJvK1G5OV5j7vpQfaoBja3eppwNtaiEsbEg9IoTu_v5r03yS4c5ug/w300-h400/IMG_6192.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>And with that he reprinted my ticket with no further explanation. It was a pretty full flight but there were some empty seats. I sat in my single seat aisle without having to worry about a traveling mate. I was served a drink before take off. My bags were taken and stowed for me. It might have been random, it might have been luck or it might have been divine intervention. I don't know, but remember my tip about dressing the part. I have no proof, but putting on a clean shirt just might push you to the front of the line and you too could get moved into first class.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-47345770725766406492022-07-13T14:37:00.000-05:002022-07-13T14:37:08.011-05:00A GIFT FROM THE HEART<p> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;">WHEN GIVING MEANS THE MOST</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtw_C3wPWv72Ak-wSqgj2jAyqITflG4lsaFZxJc6wezBq8TbY3Vrs-iGMgmISps5_c4aC8QfHypd2B5bwXXbF5wc_uMXjLoMienqWxSldRqbOA11yeAC79WiNowuy3wujqMxjc5HCXC73w4ATjC0jl4UZNnw_KKILxIsGNveqhIAYYimwTZcDKn_-mlQ/s4032/IMG_3853.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtw_C3wPWv72Ak-wSqgj2jAyqITflG4lsaFZxJc6wezBq8TbY3Vrs-iGMgmISps5_c4aC8QfHypd2B5bwXXbF5wc_uMXjLoMienqWxSldRqbOA11yeAC79WiNowuy3wujqMxjc5HCXC73w4ATjC0jl4UZNnw_KKILxIsGNveqhIAYYimwTZcDKn_-mlQ/w300-h400/IMG_3853.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Our most recent trip to Italy was the granting of a birthday boy's wish. It was planned well in advance during a difficult time of uncertainty. Who plans on a pandemic or organizing a trip during one? It took every lucky penny and luck itself to pull it off. Once the wheels had been set in motion there was no turning back. For a year it was a coin flip of would we go or wouldn't we. I felt if we could pull it off the trip was going to be gift enough but I couldn't let the day of his birthday arrive without something for him to open. I struggled, until I came up with the one thing I had that I could give him: time. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtfwiTSks-Hx0y7cn3kML1fbFIfGmB9K5EGRidhvCwgrkyooOKMU6W17onIaYj0TLuVJJJN6gQVL9_J3wVajlOjoHuke7NsNYd2Lo7wzkmMc7L72zQBIP9d7eibyjSu3HiSJjSoQG5rNHePq0epg8Z70q8IyUQb8T_r4JLKgKke0oAFEF1BFXiQuK0g/s4032/IMG_3430.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtfwiTSks-Hx0y7cn3kML1fbFIfGmB9K5EGRidhvCwgrkyooOKMU6W17onIaYj0TLuVJJJN6gQVL9_J3wVajlOjoHuke7NsNYd2Lo7wzkmMc7L72zQBIP9d7eibyjSu3HiSJjSoQG5rNHePq0epg8Z70q8IyUQb8T_r4JLKgKke0oAFEF1BFXiQuK0g/w300-h400/IMG_3430.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Earlier in the year when we both were back in New York during a temporary break in the pandemic's timeline of being up and then down he had gone to his closet to see if he could find some clothes he wanted to take back to Madison. There was one piece he had been searching for. He was hoping it was New York. Our closet in New York is a wall long and lit so if it was there it couldn't hide from view. It was a grey wool knit jacket he was hoping to find. Sometimes an article of clothing can be more than just cloth and needlework. This jacket had that sentiment for him. Tucked between a black blazer and a navy blue car coat was the jacket. It was there on a white wooden hanger it's lapels still properly folded. The relief of finding something you haven't seen for a while or thought you might have lost is so satisfying. A bit of relief heaved from his chest and then a sad droop caught the outside corners of his eyes and mouth. As the light from the closet caught the back of the wool jacket it seared through a huge hole like a wartime searchlight. Moths had attacked the jacket and eaten away a piece just below the edge of the lapel. He went from elated to devastated to resigned. Before he left to go back to Madison he told me I should just throw the jacket away.<p></p><p>I didn't. I kept it because I had an idea. I signed up for an online darning class; part of week long event sponsored by New York City and the New York sanitation department along with several vintage clothing shops promoting the reuse and rehabilitation of old or discarded clothing. I decided this would be my gift of time. I wasn't sure how this was going to turn out but I was willing to try and expose myself to what I knew was going to be imperfection.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihip-U4L5BVbGS-ew6maeIf_bRqWhGm9JO_EIdi1EiAS2d1InMcXYAhfuv5exeLcmf7Jd1TIt77xJhZ7-djPvykmlHdBC9eEzB8DupjHoWz3P4OIo0SP8-UlqA3cfy8Ap3-V4-UkdVlAyikXN_DpnrZykYsUo45DOlNPJrgmUBHshJ7FK_k_EPC1YlWw/s1592/Screen%20Shot%202022-04-03%20at%207.59.23%20PM.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="1592" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihip-U4L5BVbGS-ew6maeIf_bRqWhGm9JO_EIdi1EiAS2d1InMcXYAhfuv5exeLcmf7Jd1TIt77xJhZ7-djPvykmlHdBC9eEzB8DupjHoWz3P4OIo0SP8-UlqA3cfy8Ap3-V4-UkdVlAyikXN_DpnrZykYsUo45DOlNPJrgmUBHshJ7FK_k_EPC1YlWw/w400-h356/Screen%20Shot%202022-04-03%20at%207.59.23%20PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>We were still dealing with the remnants of Covid. The class would be a remote zoom experience. After signing up I received an email with information about what I would need to participate in the class. My ADHD kicked in, I merely skimmed the instructions only focusing on the pictorial part of the email. I did get all of the right equipment but I missed the parts about the size of a hole I should attempt for a first try at darning. The hole on the back of Rick's jacket was bigger than a baseball and one only a seasoned darner should try to fix. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF6JPOLnc1Xd28pRRduqc3LMwuzoczaECBQc89vjXaDN1qshtHkxVKKeU_mUxzNskCoVD_-OHMaIFOgzwnZq8kS_cPBldbplqhZKCcbCYXhRRNL2i4X2w7dWjPiTFgStB_5HW1z0BeYzTsB08BvdBhQ-P5NRjVofSqxG1HFOVgfYm5A6RDl1y3WNg6g/s1280/IMG_2914.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF6JPOLnc1Xd28pRRduqc3LMwuzoczaECBQc89vjXaDN1qshtHkxVKKeU_mUxzNskCoVD_-OHMaIFOgzwnZq8kS_cPBldbplqhZKCcbCYXhRRNL2i4X2w7dWjPiTFgStB_5HW1z0BeYzTsB08BvdBhQ-P5NRjVofSqxG1HFOVgfYm5A6RDl1y3WNg6g/w300-h400/IMG_2914.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The darning lesson was to run about any hour. We were told to bring a round ball or piece of fruit to secure the area around the hole we were going to darn. Looking at my hole I chose the largest navel orange I could find. I automatically knew I was in trouble. Fortunately I decided to turn my video off so no one could see what I was doing. I knew I was way too deep once I saw several others with socks or sweaters with holes the size of pennies and dimes. The instructor began with a little overview of the importance of rehabilitating worn clothing. Then she began showing us what to do by example.<p></p><p>The instructions for darning are really pretty simple. You start by creating a checkerboard pattern of stiches going in one direction about a half inch beyond the hole you are trying to repair. Once you've created your pattern you begin weaving your yarn through the checkerboard in the perpendicular direction from your first set of stiches. Simple. Right?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylMQBPMm5RlQd1gLOrcczqssQZwFjwp5X_isYisHXXeGnhE3iYg54elT3jAXriSht_1Dr2fRTKINsyqD56qpYviQzzhIZehAvsZyXJsHfJGmtWxc47aafUs_B3eMbRS9UGaQ1AW7FS-VMsSTDsyirLjEVlrT-9TRpM3i_0rsGqKpU_LQ7NgRJtuYTYw/s4032/IMG_2955.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylMQBPMm5RlQd1gLOrcczqssQZwFjwp5X_isYisHXXeGnhE3iYg54elT3jAXriSht_1Dr2fRTKINsyqD56qpYviQzzhIZehAvsZyXJsHfJGmtWxc47aafUs_B3eMbRS9UGaQ1AW7FS-VMsSTDsyirLjEVlrT-9TRpM3i_0rsGqKpU_LQ7NgRJtuYTYw/w400-h300/IMG_2955.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Let's start from the beginning: selecting the right weight of yarn for the hole you're trying to fix. I thought the recommendation for what I wanted to do was a lightweight yarn. I also wanted to select a color that I thought would be a nice complement to Rick's grey wool blazer. I picked a medium weight steely blue yarn. The wrong selection on both counts: too thin and too hard to see where my stitches were against the grey of the jacket.<p></p><p>As the group leader went on with her instructions I, and several others were still trying to thread our needles. Shoving a fuzzy yarn through the eye of a needle, even a darning needle, is no easy task. There should have been a course in just how to squeeze yarn through a needle without using a series of selected curse words. By the time I threaded my first needle the instructor was way ahead of me showing off her immaculate checkerboard of white yarn against a red sock.</p><p>With no contrast between field and foreground color my checkerboard was only going to be imagined and would have to rely on luck to approximate any sort of a checkerboard pattern.</p><p>As my random pattern finally closed in on the hole it became very apparent that the strands of yarn traversing the hole were going to be far to far apart for me to assimilate any approximation of a tight weave over such a large area. I was f*!ck'd right from the start.</p><p>Unwilling to share my work with the group I realized I was going to be on my own for the rest of my darning journey. After the hour-long session with the darning class I knew it was going to be me and my needles and thread all alone. I would have to develop a new tactic for continuing.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjghp_Gu5mbw4AIFjLRcRl4zySeUf3QnHpE4phoGws9IeYXmprHHbrleUuTR4SWJm4JLfrz2yWweRCcsOSlLP-zUkgu5sKJjzuvsqLIDIKLOiLTXm0TkgZwb0P34yoLqEf7YhvtfIe8VtdtEU5YZ8_svUbC1_e95Kh2eQQvYrLtwyhuVRYQoRimtd3ncQ/s2000/IMG_2957%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjghp_Gu5mbw4AIFjLRcRl4zySeUf3QnHpE4phoGws9IeYXmprHHbrleUuTR4SWJm4JLfrz2yWweRCcsOSlLP-zUkgu5sKJjzuvsqLIDIKLOiLTXm0TkgZwb0P34yoLqEf7YhvtfIe8VtdtEU5YZ8_svUbC1_e95Kh2eQQvYrLtwyhuVRYQoRimtd3ncQ/w300-h400/IMG_2957%20copy.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>For better visibility of my checkerboard stitch work I changed to a white yarn and went over the steely blue I had already sewn. I then doubled the grey/blue thread from one strand to two. This ended up doubling my needle threading time trying to push two widths of thread through the needles eye where one was difficult enough. The swear count went way up. <p></p><p>With by now hours and hours of over and under and back again with more steely blue yarn to get the color of my patch back to a better deeper hue I finally got to a point where the patch seemed strong enough and full enough to pull it away from my navel orange. Once the orange had been removed my patching retained its phantom bulge as if I had given it birth. The belly of my patch remained rounded and full rather than flat.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil81wZsVSzPbEU-Kw2d8qes1rFqHbF7kH--F8hZmMF3-ARPVRJQxMS0M5jDQpJhO_3Gy6_2bTJx5fGG32aqVF7oQFWBXPliNbVj63Y-ycoCEI_L86R3oJRu-LAudJhv6_Yb-yiTqF-dx4nu_A9LjtG140M0en6lko6WpsvdtMonmR-9bO8cOJVTUwVVA/s2000/IMG_3432%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil81wZsVSzPbEU-Kw2d8qes1rFqHbF7kH--F8hZmMF3-ARPVRJQxMS0M5jDQpJhO_3Gy6_2bTJx5fGG32aqVF7oQFWBXPliNbVj63Y-ycoCEI_L86R3oJRu-LAudJhv6_Yb-yiTqF-dx4nu_A9LjtG140M0en6lko6WpsvdtMonmR-9bO8cOJVTUwVVA/w300-h400/IMG_3432%20copy.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>As a final step I took a damp cloth, laying it over my handy work and tried to lightly iron out the bulge back into a smoother flatter surface. Did anyone know that wool burns? I now had added a slight brownish/greenish ting to my amebic patch.<p></p><p>Imperfection achieved.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOfQHXavJcLknwXNxbsyOdYIbH3dRCHHynT3FC6J78NBfgli2dIIxV0dPj6GJrzrpDYHkftKzo5KCFqknsSFIJ75lEposcSA9FoOJ7BN21AmqK2HyJwKCTPSvnO8RHg7YsRNSdV5n_iOxd0jyqeh6M3fPnZVXxis4Ht4oSJR3yWP8rvhhrekxQiF_sw/s2000/IMG_3431%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOfQHXavJcLknwXNxbsyOdYIbH3dRCHHynT3FC6J78NBfgli2dIIxV0dPj6GJrzrpDYHkftKzo5KCFqknsSFIJ75lEposcSA9FoOJ7BN21AmqK2HyJwKCTPSvnO8RHg7YsRNSdV5n_iOxd0jyqeh6M3fPnZVXxis4Ht4oSJR3yWP8rvhhrekxQiF_sw/w300-h400/IMG_3431%20copy.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Even with all its flaws it still felt right. I bundled it up in my suitcase in some tissue paper and twine. I hide it there until the night of Rick's birthday party in Tuscany. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0GONpY5tLpgLLjVgZQhsgdVfCD6BsDZt4sWCPsACfNRZDWrFmRyffU_CGZzIT6SG3vXYMPwq9XSmnD5wOx_S1L8tdwwhElfwovihm63emElxbUKVbvMWYauM41zvece_juOumbsSgBEGBP02eVWh3QHdjthn4islhXpJ3xjBjZF80YBbJf95DyPvfw/s1125/IMG_4025.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1125" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0GONpY5tLpgLLjVgZQhsgdVfCD6BsDZt4sWCPsACfNRZDWrFmRyffU_CGZzIT6SG3vXYMPwq9XSmnD5wOx_S1L8tdwwhElfwovihm63emElxbUKVbvMWYauM41zvece_juOumbsSgBEGBP02eVWh3QHdjthn4islhXpJ3xjBjZF80YBbJf95DyPvfw/w400-h248/IMG_4025.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Rick had requested that none of us should give him any gifts. Everyone's presence in Italy was all he wanted, but I knew I wanted to do something; something small but meaningful. The patch on the back of this jacket that he had loved became a gift and a metaphor for our relationship. Our life hadn't always been easy but it's been filled with the most beautiful highs and some very deep lows both of which we've survived. We've worked hard at mending our relationship during troubled times just like I mended this jacket. The mends are not perfect but the results are beautiful to me in their imperfections. It's not traditionally pretty but it's us. I did it with love. I hope he'll wear it and be proud of it not being perfect. I also know he already has plans for improving it.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-46926462034445516482022-06-01T13:10:00.000-05:002022-06-01T13:10:46.224-05:00HOW TO HANDLE A MESSY CLIENT SITUATION<p> <span style="color: #cc0000;">THE STORY OF MY WHITE PANTS</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRZPEhw1rabUeqswEb0Y2x9hHWkSYbQwtTRhQfxWxkcw2Pm1c2xfnqg9shKKh3fe8EViRw7GmZx2ysYuSWYPQRo59PBic1FWCFsyR4LqMVtxhmJ-um43qBleRKFot2sSZtdFeFPpIAfoXd7pxlZMLLXdfxmAjqbg7tqQKgthupve9kyA7upQ8Hw_qYA/s4032/IMG_5110.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRZPEhw1rabUeqswEb0Y2x9hHWkSYbQwtTRhQfxWxkcw2Pm1c2xfnqg9shKKh3fe8EViRw7GmZx2ysYuSWYPQRo59PBic1FWCFsyR4LqMVtxhmJ-um43qBleRKFot2sSZtdFeFPpIAfoXd7pxlZMLLXdfxmAjqbg7tqQKgthupve9kyA7upQ8Hw_qYA/w300-h400/IMG_5110.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I had all my ducks in a row. We arrived back in the states late on a Wednesday night. There was immediately a bit of repacking we needed to do. Rick and Emmy had flights scheduled for the next day to get back to Madison. Rick was leaving first following a quick client meeting on the Upper Eastside. That morning he packed his luggage into a Lift, went to the meeting, followed by getting into another Lift and he was off to the airport. His reward for promptness was between the time he left for the airport and arrived in Madison he got Covid, lucky him. Emmy wasn't scheduled to leave until later in the afternoon. She's still my my little darling and even though she's a young adult now and totally capable of taking care of herself I insisted on taking her to the airport and making sure she got there and on the plane without a hitch. I received the appropriate side eye for my parental concern.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpRdM4lsSIqTSrvvgqMh74aCtgI5ZP6uPlZtUm6_n5lHyOUC0QzAuCc0LtaKs2cBgabP5LnuwboGTZxeZRzyEUJ0h8Rsp9fbMMIQAcRAr6JFbGisO28xPiW4XUgmGFLZa5wyOB26rlnv0CkRLpQ6FOfu8lTNhcffY9qRbWSyQOXZ8rw2LIJKqxhwJ7CA/s1280/IMG_3349.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpRdM4lsSIqTSrvvgqMh74aCtgI5ZP6uPlZtUm6_n5lHyOUC0QzAuCc0LtaKs2cBgabP5LnuwboGTZxeZRzyEUJ0h8Rsp9fbMMIQAcRAr6JFbGisO28xPiW4XUgmGFLZa5wyOB26rlnv0CkRLpQ6FOfu8lTNhcffY9qRbWSyQOXZ8rw2LIJKqxhwJ7CA/w400-h300/IMG_3349.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This left me at home all by myself with four client projects now needing immediate attention. The workload was intense, stressful and completely satisfying knowing that there was work to be done including scrambling for another job. Within the next four days I reviewed the first bid with our assistant's help on the largest project we were dealing with preparing pages of questions and concerns for the contractor. Then I moved on to product sourcing finding over eighty items with the qualification of immediate delivery for another client, screen shot them and emailed all. For the next task on the list I finished a set of drawings for a third client. Then I did all the grunt work for meetings with three prospective contractors on a forth project. I am clearly patting myself on my back <i>and neglecting to mention that Rick helped extensively with the product sourcing. </i>(The italicized section of this last sentence was added by the Editor-in-Chief)<p></p><p>All things seemed set for my first real contact with clients since our return from Italy. I was ready, very very ready to get back into the swing of things. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDvZ1tdooJJWiDX8AlDWmYXoJa0ppGdBI0EPhJZuDWzmn3uueDG1LjW9HJX435ztas5Klz2NCjb5V2lAqZQSoL3YxMK9rrC7mXZfjyc9ZseJuz2UmlEL4EDWu_GfpGoJuo1jlBp9ImnnCUL2qpz6VxQFWoPjMeKGOvyg1D3v2rI7BNJBfm3_S8vDPlw/s1280/IMG_5183.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDvZ1tdooJJWiDX8AlDWmYXoJa0ppGdBI0EPhJZuDWzmn3uueDG1LjW9HJX435ztas5Klz2NCjb5V2lAqZQSoL3YxMK9rrC7mXZfjyc9ZseJuz2UmlEL4EDWu_GfpGoJuo1jlBp9ImnnCUL2qpz6VxQFWoPjMeKGOvyg1D3v2rI7BNJBfm3_S8vDPlw/w300-h400/IMG_5183.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It was now Tuesday, the day after Memorial Day, the day we're all allowed to flip off the fashion police (headed by our very own Editor-in-Chief) scrutinizing and confidently put on our summer whites. <p></p><p>I rose early and got done all my pre-vacation ablutions: a thirty-minute Stairmaster workout, a brief spritz in the shower (the shaving and shampooing had been completed the night before), brushed my teeth, sprayed a little deodorant and got dressed - in my slim fit stretchy white pants. Normally my daily routine would have included making a banana and coffee smoothie <i>(yuck)</i> but this morning I decided to pass, I'd pick up a Starbucks Frappuccino at Grand Central before I boarded the Hudson line to Croton. I should also add that the day we arrived back in New York I reinstated my intermittent fasting routine to work on those few extra pounds I inevitably put on by eating my way through an a minimum of two bowls of pastas and a grande coupe di gelato each day we were away.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrhMVD2EPaCuM6Ta-sxjOki4Y6M5VGzVmn1v3wokmYyNsHi-t-jhQipC27cQUP07UX6vFG7LmmUBZQD2KRcejLN2H8xnRdRUihtTsxLo_e9TfjhXo8j4FivblScvOKd7lBmy_ptcUQ2s5oP4tRZ7UYVBsdMQN0nFzcaUQqOi41d1g_W42RRmyd2ndKw/s2560/3%2520-%2520MC.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="2560" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrhMVD2EPaCuM6Ta-sxjOki4Y6M5VGzVmn1v3wokmYyNsHi-t-jhQipC27cQUP07UX6vFG7LmmUBZQD2KRcejLN2H8xnRdRUihtTsxLo_e9TfjhXo8j4FivblScvOKd7lBmy_ptcUQ2s5oP4tRZ7UYVBsdMQN0nFzcaUQqOi41d1g_W42RRmyd2ndKw/w400-h225/3%2520-%2520MC.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I got to Grand Central, bought my ticket and that Java Chip skim milk no whipped cream Frappuccino before heading to the train. The train was virtually empty allowing me to take a row of three seats: one for me, one for my satchel and one for my frap. It was 7:39 AM. It was an express train making only two additional stops before getting to Croton.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTwyLwCAxXxENkoaHB2ggKzTXL-Ngl7Y3eyemNf02_CZh9lllo9a5dl0dDq74SwGoqneFyNvyjzpU0JjIK_IyNYixZpyRLJ7rcgk9bi1lTiOQIP_MZZr3940xKydcat5KxDoGzk8ApAwZLC4RgR0JuZfwCII_G-Pp1pH5_ljoVY_e5uwtGzLiY4YoHQ/s162/javachipfrap-jpg.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="162" data-original-width="162" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTwyLwCAxXxENkoaHB2ggKzTXL-Ngl7Y3eyemNf02_CZh9lllo9a5dl0dDq74SwGoqneFyNvyjzpU0JjIK_IyNYixZpyRLJ7rcgk9bi1lTiOQIP_MZZr3940xKydcat5KxDoGzk8ApAwZLC4RgR0JuZfwCII_G-Pp1pH5_ljoVY_e5uwtGzLiY4YoHQ/w400-h400/javachipfrap-jpg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>For the next hour I would I fight between playing solitaire on my phone and staring at my Frappuccino asking my self: should I take a sip and break my fasting rules of nothing before 11:00 or should I say "Screw it" and just drink the damn thing. Don't judge me. I held to my resolve with the plan of getting to my client's home and depositing the by now watery Frappuccino in their frig until after my designated time to eat. <p></p><p>At Croton I got off the train, my satchel in one hand and the frap in the other. My client was waiting for me in her sporty two-door BMW. There is no graceful way of getting into one of these cars. I put down my bag , opened the door, threw my bag in the back seat and while balancing the frap bent myself in the only compressed position I could to get into the passenger seat. Total success.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqr5Uf8k3SRuqPzKpfUJkEuxkN3Q0zMymoWuW-RjUPQRoHCEh8xGG7sx_oHce0fsMTCNX5xM4Jga-17mvWh4-ItHFnROiro0zmDWOaI8ynN0OkbObTxIRg0DYW08U5FHN36VBs8jmjvblQQgVKa1uKsJieBC9mmjHoDiKIzjF3WUMiVCK-51V2xitcA/s4032/IMG_3360%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqr5Uf8k3SRuqPzKpfUJkEuxkN3Q0zMymoWuW-RjUPQRoHCEh8xGG7sx_oHce0fsMTCNX5xM4Jga-17mvWh4-ItHFnROiro0zmDWOaI8ynN0OkbObTxIRg0DYW08U5FHN36VBs8jmjvblQQgVKa1uKsJieBC9mmjHoDiKIzjF3WUMiVCK-51V2xitcA/w400-h300/IMG_3360%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We got through the security gates at my client's home, and she graciously let me out before she pulled the car into the garage. This required the same amount of gymnastic contortions to extricate myself from the passenger bucket seat of her BMW as it had to get myself into the seat. I got my bag out of the backseat while still balancing my frap in the other hand. I was so impressed with myself, my first outing post vacation, tanned, wearing my summer whites and looking gooood. At this precise moment was when I felt a little wetness on my leg. I first had to question whether this was imaginary or real. The sporty BMW had been fully air-conditioned so I wasn't sure if it was the contrast I was feeling between leaving the cool car into the heat of the ninety degree day or something much more dreadful. I hadn't come in contact with any water source that I could remember. With both hands occupied carrying my bags on one hand and the frap in the other I did a quick check for a water source. I found it right away. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxa65O8PUX1QPf2pB_-StkjrtYTuH_lBzSfvhi0bW9d-5gcOdRIfYH0baBZjSMhn1LgOOfYsMp9BRvrTfN3T3syCumJGK32_A8LHsR-Kb3ZgeXLXQDpK7N83SyhJXIHyr-ib2WvPqmoxKWBI8WLMdQALP3gfMgEZkUTLgPBFKsj-7v6ecUYedBh1jhnQ/s4032/IMG_5201.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxa65O8PUX1QPf2pB_-StkjrtYTuH_lBzSfvhi0bW9d-5gcOdRIfYH0baBZjSMhn1LgOOfYsMp9BRvrTfN3T3syCumJGK32_A8LHsR-Kb3ZgeXLXQDpK7N83SyhJXIHyr-ib2WvPqmoxKWBI8WLMdQALP3gfMgEZkUTLgPBFKsj-7v6ecUYedBh1jhnQ/w300-h400/IMG_5201.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>At some point during the ride from the train station to my client's home the frap had managed to slosh out right into my crotch. It looked as if I had crapped my pants. I couldn't have worn a pair of jeans or a pair of black pants, anything that would have hidden the stain or at least made it less obvious. There's nothing more visible than a coffee stain with bits of chopped up chocolate on a pair of white pants. <p></p><p>My client, her daughter and her husband were all standing outside waiting to start their weight lifting session with their trainer. There was nothing to do but to dive in and exploit the situation commanding center stage with both arms raised, a huge smile on face saying, "How do you like my entrance?" There was no place to hide. I had to embrace the situation. I had to ask my client's husband if he might have a pair of shorts I could borrow. This was comedy in itself. My client's husband is about six inches shorter than I am and a fitness nut. Chuckling, he went into the house to see what he could retrieve. Somehow I was able to squeeze myself into the one pair of stretchy shorts he had. I then had to turn over my soiled pants to my client. She carried them off in mock disgust to the laundry, sprayed them with spot remover and threw them into the wash. I survived our meeting with the first contractor wearing my client's slightly tight shorts but was able to retrieve my pants before the second contractor meeting. We carried on laughing all the way to my client pulling my pants out of the dryer checking out for any remaining stains and declaring, "I think your crotch looks spotless".</p><p>Client relationships in the interior design field frequently go beyond a simple professional relationship. You are required to not only be a designer but frequently a therapist and confident. This time the roles were reversed. This time the client saved my butt and did it with grace and humor. I love my job. </p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-64364360167440032852022-05-27T18:18:00.000-05:002022-05-27T18:18:19.888-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - THE FINAL GOODBYE<p> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;">ALL JOURNEYS MUST COME TO AN END</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgJZtFb9N96q2lgGe7P4hjI6m9mrPfPyTnNsRRfzg3jKamW3cO6Z9YvN-iKNvX_dZV9nDu48E0Dm_LuA_3eUPdOGzdo7mpvyepUNqS0v_nMGW8AzrYFwVIno7KzuoNTVZxcwbYl6GGiOLeVzmb7N0-Y1FWQr5XJGl96h0WmCVQkepJnh4so2YP2puhg/s4032/IMG_5109.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgJZtFb9N96q2lgGe7P4hjI6m9mrPfPyTnNsRRfzg3jKamW3cO6Z9YvN-iKNvX_dZV9nDu48E0Dm_LuA_3eUPdOGzdo7mpvyepUNqS0v_nMGW8AzrYFwVIno7KzuoNTVZxcwbYl6GGiOLeVzmb7N0-Y1FWQr5XJGl96h0WmCVQkepJnh4so2YP2puhg/w400-h300/IMG_5109.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This is the hardest blog to write if for no other reason than I'm exhausted - exhausted from travel, exhausted from jet lag, exhausted from writing. <p></p><p>I thought I was going to finish and put a period on our trip by writing about the final trip, the trip home. I was going to write about the ride to the airport and how we missed the first shuttle, how we panicked when we thought we hadn't filled out the right forms for entry, how we switched our luggage plan at the last minute and how we were the last ones to get on the plane to JFK because we were too stupid to know how long it took to get from the Ana lounge to the gate especially when you think you have time to stop in Duty Free for a bottle of Armani "You" cologne. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">But now it doesn't matter because we're back and when you're back and all your luggage made it, and you got the right forms and filled them out correctly and even though we didn't get the cologne we did make it home with way more than a t-shirt saying "I went to Italy and all I got was a case of homesickness".</span></div><p></p><p>Cosi questo e` arrivederci</p><p>And now I'll say it in pictures</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr40Kclh1Sp60hXdmBNwhi7-fhEr5KUV3lsukh0sVLIeAQf0yN4y2q_GkKLzd2JF_3nCcKPK2QM9NJjDXOFNi0uPnlVbuHqdEN99kNhQANmQKIOZplu1RSDDJYW6OS16a0NXPNrMOqLPNk-TEqMGreDUJPWx8Pa-z85uwu7lY_tukDYUJjzxx5vgBc3w/s4032/ARMENA%20SUNRISE%20FULLMOON.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr40Kclh1Sp60hXdmBNwhi7-fhEr5KUV3lsukh0sVLIeAQf0yN4y2q_GkKLzd2JF_3nCcKPK2QM9NJjDXOFNi0uPnlVbuHqdEN99kNhQANmQKIOZplu1RSDDJYW6OS16a0NXPNrMOqLPNk-TEqMGreDUJPWx8Pa-z85uwu7lY_tukDYUJjzxx5vgBc3w/w300-h400/ARMENA%20SUNRISE%20FULLMOON.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZGhkq3CE3zBVNDJ4tKXmIq7NICP037kY3A5eofs5kBRr6RrbjyyEssFpHlwHJ9hBnRFmWRst3J4HrLFkUv2BE9qtrXZoFF6xxPlJHyTyj4MPG8WH3_YJzMc4GK9zEeC2ryspeeFI7unmbxppAahuAwTg6EbonHHBiTfYDwimNUltNL8tFE4vBKec6g/s4032/RICKB'DAY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; 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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-20983741112469723252022-05-26T21:28:00.000-05:002022-05-26T21:28:48.680-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - CARS AND PLANES BUT NO BOATS<p> THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDQpYgEq8wZQ-dQlNs-aldSqz5UJyPNosroSgIH7vlIpsgVXNB1-yUwdtkpOBzJotieyu6KD8Y3EMNvfhsjr4Pz7CgsuH9LSA_JSjwNjq4-4IqgW9nleR5DdLEDV19yVi_CQyyIVrKoH_TU8jH3I_zl4_LyzuHThbxzsww7j35zxx_msE0xj8DDPLZg/s4032/IMG_5037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDQpYgEq8wZQ-dQlNs-aldSqz5UJyPNosroSgIH7vlIpsgVXNB1-yUwdtkpOBzJotieyu6KD8Y3EMNvfhsjr4Pz7CgsuH9LSA_JSjwNjq4-4IqgW9nleR5DdLEDV19yVi_CQyyIVrKoH_TU8jH3I_zl4_LyzuHThbxzsww7j35zxx_msE0xj8DDPLZg/w300-h400/IMG_5037.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Leaving any place during a vacation can be bittersweet. Our departure was no exception. Our vacation was now mostly viewed in our rearview mirror in this case from a rental car that will end up having its own story. I have a feeling by this time everyone thinks we're a clown car just destined for a wreck; three stooges all tripping over ourselves and running into each other every chance we get. Okay, enough of the car analogies. This morning no one was interested in breakfast. We all decided we'd deal with that once we were safely out on the Autostrada, as if anyone can really feel safe on a road with no speed limits and a total disregard of lane lines. Packing is a major event for us that is always filled with anxiety, mostly by me. I am always well prepared with everything put in place before either Rick or Emmy have begun the process of gathering together their belongs. That means every sock, every precisely folded button-down collar shirt and every pair of underwear folded in thirds and then in half will have been layered into my bag in a calculated jigsaw puzzle formation as I now wait nervously for the two of them to have at it. Emmy is a shover. She shoves everything including five pairs of shoes one of which is a pair of ten pound Doc Martins into the largest suitcase the airlines will allow. If she can get the zipper closed well then she's done. Rick rests somewhere in between frustration and chaos. I'll let him tell his own story.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PXfJzcTJ1xYktDuYTN3ROzyUw-5j4ZGo5g_oa7Q0YENTxGak5TPlHEDdnigx-f-YShkQa72ZATyfozIQd2CevZyRi3LspBwLUt1KHn0nsR8md8wdTa_zuF7vGQ8NXSGpDEIR9DdUMAASKbNgLhQSDXPTYlENPArdb9c-XTNuBg79ddRK7-Fh692uOw/s4032/IMG_5043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PXfJzcTJ1xYktDuYTN3ROzyUw-5j4ZGo5g_oa7Q0YENTxGak5TPlHEDdnigx-f-YShkQa72ZATyfozIQd2CevZyRi3LspBwLUt1KHn0nsR8md8wdTa_zuF7vGQ8NXSGpDEIR9DdUMAASKbNgLhQSDXPTYlENPArdb9c-XTNuBg79ddRK7-Fh692uOw/w300-h400/IMG_5043.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We were all set and on time for our planned departure from Hotel Club Due Torri. I had called for the car and that's when that devil diarrhea struck. I'm not going to say which one of us but I was designated as the one to run to the pharmacy for massive quantities of Imodium. Our departure was detained but we were determined to get on the road even if we all had to put on Depends to do it. We'd kept the car under the care of the hotel deciding that driving anywhere that wasn't an absolute necessity was just fine, but now we'd have to try to once again clutch our sissy bars and tackle the winding roads of the Amalfi. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZwy6T5vGTCt0GHrOmxzQNikdQZjZtNdfAgZ9CzOeHxo9LW_SUoizmWQIGwM2mab30BOugaBNNl1Xp2SO8NLSy0IxHzUo6fxd5SJYs3UmqaeDu27t5zms1_bDJZujylLMGhvjtDW8ec1bniUQWpJYmJqMHSqE1n7inJWJ23gQEXKfP6mc-y2SdhbphA/s2971/IMG_6225%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2508" data-original-width="2971" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZwy6T5vGTCt0GHrOmxzQNikdQZjZtNdfAgZ9CzOeHxo9LW_SUoizmWQIGwM2mab30BOugaBNNl1Xp2SO8NLSy0IxHzUo6fxd5SJYs3UmqaeDu27t5zms1_bDJZujylLMGhvjtDW8ec1bniUQWpJYmJqMHSqE1n7inJWJ23gQEXKfP6mc-y2SdhbphA/w400-h338/IMG_6225%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We were doing fine and had almost made it to the halfway point of an hour long decent when Rick's comatose state catapulted him out of his stupor and into panic mode. "Did the lady at the desk give us back our passports?". "SH*T!!!" You have no idea of how hard it is to find a place where you can pull off or much less attempt to do a three point turnaround. These roads are so tight you need to suck in your gut to make room every time a car comes hurtling at you from the opposite direction. I have no recollection of how we did this with all three of us having the beginnings of our own diarrhea attacks but we did somehow manage to pull off to the edge so we could pull out our document bag flinging everything out until we did find we had our passports all the time. Tragedy avoided.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KER1OeQK0WeFmDUCnFtDpiA8EeEvmQ05iIQPvjJ9ZDOFHt_YzWXs4aPRTF5VsineG58oHlInAqnH3nCqsruMIAlSs9-qygUEYMpHedG4pHKOG_JjnV44A-79HwXgRjtRIZoexJO2RePdizHmHe7rUPQCKgUER-cdJOjIeY-TvgxWLhu2mHN9qESqOQ/s2963/IMG_5056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2205" data-original-width="2963" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KER1OeQK0WeFmDUCnFtDpiA8EeEvmQ05iIQPvjJ9ZDOFHt_YzWXs4aPRTF5VsineG58oHlInAqnH3nCqsruMIAlSs9-qygUEYMpHedG4pHKOG_JjnV44A-79HwXgRjtRIZoexJO2RePdizHmHe7rUPQCKgUER-cdJOjIeY-TvgxWLhu2mHN9qESqOQ/w400-h297/IMG_5056.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The only other thing to slow our journey to the Autostrada was a herd of sheep being sheparded through a tiny town blocking traffic in both directions. It was a traffic jam we fully enjoyed.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUvNenctIiR_kN-8riQper0bwo9619qlS2vC3ybcq43PuySVP_8IMnozDZqY8_WAbXF4dMMc5TSNO9b5_98jyRD2p1Vubn7fg3hst0Nc8ZO_IaFES2Zdy3S4o8xcKNJicOTxQ6KfAoE4HYsGQt5Qpyg5k1g-k-WcFIZFH70i4Nhbvg0nZzO7f5qpGKg/s2960/IMG_5058%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2464" data-original-width="2960" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUvNenctIiR_kN-8riQper0bwo9619qlS2vC3ybcq43PuySVP_8IMnozDZqY8_WAbXF4dMMc5TSNO9b5_98jyRD2p1Vubn7fg3hst0Nc8ZO_IaFES2Zdy3S4o8xcKNJicOTxQ6KfAoE4HYsGQt5Qpyg5k1g-k-WcFIZFH70i4Nhbvg0nZzO7f5qpGKg/w400-h333/IMG_5058%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The Autostrada is famous for its rest stops appropriately called AutoGrills. The food is fresh and surprisingly good. We felt our stomaches had eased enough from the rollercoaster ride the Amalfites call a road to bit into crusty sandwiches of tomato, prosciutto and mozzarella di buffalo. Emmy and Rick washed there's down with Cokes<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaMcFAzDjdurVGo5YAccqMBBueR_MQ6tTThFqc87yS7MljMm-SsqH-OmxDSHek3rvl3tusenG-Ecc88gGdZS3UmkrtH-Y_CNXYdZRr56kVAv8GUqjUbzAErZl56JM8r6EEMpf4MRZGqR_S_PoBjqfzSrKznDt_2AFlBUWIwpQQgqvLejIUP7ZaXLJng/s4032/IMG_5059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaMcFAzDjdurVGo5YAccqMBBueR_MQ6tTThFqc87yS7MljMm-SsqH-OmxDSHek3rvl3tusenG-Ecc88gGdZS3UmkrtH-Y_CNXYdZRr56kVAv8GUqjUbzAErZl56JM8r6EEMpf4MRZGqR_S_PoBjqfzSrKznDt_2AFlBUWIwpQQgqvLejIUP7ZaXLJng/w300-h400/IMG_5059.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>while I chose a Magnum bar, the first and only one I had on this trip.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9ooQN_IBSZDFU86jIS2_URP6vcGnQYYK3s0KuFKyZyp97HimP5UCrUWe0eCvD1xerzo9DlYv5twjaD7BkXAV5vdfmmX_uQQ9ATcmLnx9tO__pRV8sCE1QMhlRQoFHIMV1WO-pyu5f1mZ6wsLXoPknM-iZwUaVVSdOAhKD9iR51b3-xg_gZLeJ4KmDw/s2971/IMG_5065%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2666" data-original-width="2971" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9ooQN_IBSZDFU86jIS2_URP6vcGnQYYK3s0KuFKyZyp97HimP5UCrUWe0eCvD1xerzo9DlYv5twjaD7BkXAV5vdfmmX_uQQ9ATcmLnx9tO__pRV8sCE1QMhlRQoFHIMV1WO-pyu5f1mZ6wsLXoPknM-iZwUaVVSdOAhKD9iR51b3-xg_gZLeJ4KmDw/w400-h359/IMG_5065%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The directions to our Best Western Airport Hotel, curtsey of GoogleMaps were accurate this time but the hotel wasn't quite where I expected it to be. You hardly ever find a decent area around an airport anywhere in the world. The street in Fiumicino where the hotel was located was an industrial and low rent area but the hotel was set off from the street and surprisingly very nice.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwR-TKI6G7UWTHGqmXaee6D_tNBoeuyyLVuP8847Bx2xRNFvsy3mwnk82Hd5IbvLCacpw8_9ibsUUhSi1YZTMxjQWiR4_BZa_ThrtEvy0SbUm7il8gx4IS6vC6eqfkY_RKZvVMor510YnVTMFZanuyviAbsjce-Iof5YAak0ZLEatt8PkYxNca_j40Kg/s4032/IMG_5060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwR-TKI6G7UWTHGqmXaee6D_tNBoeuyyLVuP8847Bx2xRNFvsy3mwnk82Hd5IbvLCacpw8_9ibsUUhSi1YZTMxjQWiR4_BZa_ThrtEvy0SbUm7il8gx4IS6vC6eqfkY_RKZvVMor510YnVTMFZanuyviAbsjce-Iof5YAak0ZLEatt8PkYxNca_j40Kg/w300-h400/IMG_5060.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It was decided that our first item of business was going to be to take care of our Covid tests required by the airlines for our flights back to JFK. After dropping off our bags the concierge gave us directions to a pharmacy close by that we could drive to to get our tests. There was another American couple standing outside the hotel trying to convince a cab driver to take them to the same place and the cab driver seemed to be giving them a hard time. Rick went over and asked them if they would like to ride along with us. The five of us piled into our car and off we went.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3S_rxFi1MAHsLN5Xtz2LLHD1u1QwelD5-dUnT8WYGdG1wZF9aKKk2aYHY4MlILL7XaHdpmAzCvIrF-rQ1A6Fxsp8UewqowQvUlG3wxSVAnuoUs-rAGAIOLbwEnU995DQ_DDkr9qoz22kr013NoVu-oYNExj_RpUIIEYKCEeo5Zd4qFkUeQKRU1yyTHw/s4032/IMG_5062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3S_rxFi1MAHsLN5Xtz2LLHD1u1QwelD5-dUnT8WYGdG1wZF9aKKk2aYHY4MlILL7XaHdpmAzCvIrF-rQ1A6Fxsp8UewqowQvUlG3wxSVAnuoUs-rAGAIOLbwEnU995DQ_DDkr9qoz22kr013NoVu-oYNExj_RpUIIEYKCEeo5Zd4qFkUeQKRU1yyTHw/w300-h400/IMG_5062.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>There was a very nondescript church next to the testing site. While we waited for our test results I went inside. I did a little prayer for three negative results. I figured, what the heck, it couldn't hurt. We were all negative. Somebody was listening to me, no one in our little family of three was gong to have to isolate here next to an airport for any extended time.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-YfMxjQi0hOL71t_ce9M7ngCznTAjrVrJT0Le3WVzW7-LttuOlFEzL_aaNe5ASgBINCklnwSfK2ZN5azT6rU_jqK7FBjya88x2lyVnGDqnSd65czdK5S9OhmOLDNM2T_terlCUY9kvNzSCo8whzt_mWQlhHXFXvRJ8Sg3CtK2RcSkCYUTHKqz9B6YCg/s4032/IMG_5064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-YfMxjQi0hOL71t_ce9M7ngCznTAjrVrJT0Le3WVzW7-LttuOlFEzL_aaNe5ASgBINCklnwSfK2ZN5azT6rU_jqK7FBjya88x2lyVnGDqnSd65czdK5S9OhmOLDNM2T_terlCUY9kvNzSCo8whzt_mWQlhHXFXvRJ8Sg3CtK2RcSkCYUTHKqz9B6YCg/w300-h400/IMG_5064.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Our next task before taking a dip in the pool was to drop the car off. My driving days in Italy were coming to an end. We dropped Rick off at the hotel and Emmy and I took the car back to the Avis Rental office at the airport. We'd been this same drop off point many times before so finding it wasn't too difficult. I had Emmy take a picture of the shuttle schedule so we'd know how and when to get back to the hotel. Just when you think the stress of travel had finally left fate gives you just one more punch in the gut. Either we never saw it when we rented the car or someone had bumped us somewhere while the car was parked at one of the various places we had been but there on the driver's side back bumper was the tiniest little scrap. A scrap I could almost brush off with my finger. A scrap I'm sure we had nothing to do with sense I'm such an excellent driver. The attendant who was trying to be helpful but at the same time having to do his job told us he'd have to report it. That insignificant little scrap tapped out at an $800. This part of the story has ended yet. Typical Italy, the shuttle never materialized. We took a cab back,<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKor8FfIwRw_MaBKKNz0GOmm3LfpqYpSobOpu7wcp92h4qR6jSSkgLcPXCI4jaEynX6WFMLRSb1RlVf4Quhv7Nreb-nhtn6GMcGRUXjsDNI_VpFBX2bk0KsjXz4zR8gVi9b0VKOcv2voNx4PZ73JilrfkqgL-HrQKEHrlhgstL4CX7iJLoO3cSGAlK5g/s4032/IMG_5074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKor8FfIwRw_MaBKKNz0GOmm3LfpqYpSobOpu7wcp92h4qR6jSSkgLcPXCI4jaEynX6WFMLRSb1RlVf4Quhv7Nreb-nhtn6GMcGRUXjsDNI_VpFBX2bk0KsjXz4zR8gVi9b0VKOcv2voNx4PZ73JilrfkqgL-HrQKEHrlhgstL4CX7iJLoO3cSGAlK5g/w400-h300/IMG_5074.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>and we never made it into the pool.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_vaONmTmuwa9Y-_C3HWO3UPGWouKrffk3Rdpr-E3zodtIO8sLcAn0mCDHT8jlpAE-_g5PJnt6xGct4lY03gigBaRdGmG5PAVqgrjiZsgv5IaEl26Yxjymwp29rFEbyQR9vSVkAUM1ItLSHi4F0SutQ_cgQWNpS-ao_SNFO1HQTHXy7_qHBjnk-nIOg/s4032/IMG_5071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_vaONmTmuwa9Y-_C3HWO3UPGWouKrffk3Rdpr-E3zodtIO8sLcAn0mCDHT8jlpAE-_g5PJnt6xGct4lY03gigBaRdGmG5PAVqgrjiZsgv5IaEl26Yxjymwp29rFEbyQR9vSVkAUM1ItLSHi4F0SutQ_cgQWNpS-ao_SNFO1HQTHXy7_qHBjnk-nIOg/w300-h400/IMG_5071.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We didn't know what to expect but after last night's disastrous dinner we had our fingers crossed we wouldn't be leaving Italy on the heels of a bad eating experience. Our only hope was the hotel, a Best Western, not known for its culinary prowess in the United States but surprisingly, here, they didn't let us down.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJC7jB62o4LXa6qfb3kkrqG3BgtE7C4fl8JtFHHcGQKUKhpAeaIYvGVFyO1qo-kC6NqrW6qa71e-Q-ld3y_w5kjZEeLpK_IPomPaxnglPF7ooYTH7BtBkRW-cgO9ZZ4mzBDvVEOsz89qaTSAxSejY4L3i1PgqisZ3WsjlKt2g65HBOMi0OxLY2uJpBQ/s4032/IMG_5068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJC7jB62o4LXa6qfb3kkrqG3BgtE7C4fl8JtFHHcGQKUKhpAeaIYvGVFyO1qo-kC6NqrW6qa71e-Q-ld3y_w5kjZEeLpK_IPomPaxnglPF7ooYTH7BtBkRW-cgO9ZZ4mzBDvVEOsz89qaTSAxSejY4L3i1PgqisZ3WsjlKt2g65HBOMi0OxLY2uJpBQ/w400-h300/IMG_5068.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We started out with an appetizer of sautéed zucchini florets stuffed with ricotta and wrapped in bacon that were some of the best I've had.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRxIJVIQk7Kc8FfbGREYAxhzX4pNvSaYjQ2ZIazn6SBeDfbLPcCNYJsj98QzsOJGV8aeinXeEGqctVsrI5H6HC9Gg_3KcItNU-CsJs3GFmvvXjhQkvKUBoG9Unnk5mRU3gzONpYFJPfIfsLCf0jjaO73DIbe67vT2LDhSf3uZV11z9L_2U0ejpo9R-TA/s4032/IMG_5069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRxIJVIQk7Kc8FfbGREYAxhzX4pNvSaYjQ2ZIazn6SBeDfbLPcCNYJsj98QzsOJGV8aeinXeEGqctVsrI5H6HC9Gg_3KcItNU-CsJs3GFmvvXjhQkvKUBoG9Unnk5mRU3gzONpYFJPfIfsLCf0jjaO73DIbe67vT2LDhSf3uZV11z9L_2U0ejpo9R-TA/w300-h400/IMG_5069.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy and I played it safe with Tonnarelli Cacio e Pepe, a clear favorite for the entire trip and tried in every city we visited. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4ftwIe2M7aMaXbKAPQmfmY7iNOuyLVzwRguHkZ4F_wEJo94i3u0-LWAGZ3i35Y33lPxe4Ve_5UNdbis7SARyB9yqTF6_FTPdJDiDIJZ4k8mtgqqtY33gPyinSRAMnDKimxzm20s11n7vuoWAmnm6vjy8L3fS6j4SY-pf_LwfrfXc_wohYzs7FoD0hg/s4032/IMG_5070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4ftwIe2M7aMaXbKAPQmfmY7iNOuyLVzwRguHkZ4F_wEJo94i3u0-LWAGZ3i35Y33lPxe4Ve_5UNdbis7SARyB9yqTF6_FTPdJDiDIJZ4k8mtgqqtY33gPyinSRAMnDKimxzm20s11n7vuoWAmnm6vjy8L3fS6j4SY-pf_LwfrfXc_wohYzs7FoD0hg/w300-h400/IMG_5070.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick opted for a Scialatielli in a light cream sauce with an assortment of frutti di mare. This was all served with a decent bottle of Rose, a bad end of trip eating experience averted.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIFTRW3jQgoeHavkvvIOw4bhwY1avTPkpP7sJLKpHvlZlmYl1kVD7cPTXr1ixJyUaBk9OtsJ9-somJsxh55HNyDA1HZWMxmE78aookf8XnGBqCt1QeTeiZ3NjUqt-6c_RRZAcz8BLujNP07bhGpLBYE2Ksz5kjZxkwoHZKLC28-coBhv-vr1sDnAPxQ/s2016/IMG_5110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIFTRW3jQgoeHavkvvIOw4bhwY1avTPkpP7sJLKpHvlZlmYl1kVD7cPTXr1ixJyUaBk9OtsJ9-somJsxh55HNyDA1HZWMxmE78aookf8XnGBqCt1QeTeiZ3NjUqt-6c_RRZAcz8BLujNP07bhGpLBYE2Ksz5kjZxkwoHZKLC28-coBhv-vr1sDnAPxQ/w300-h400/IMG_5110.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Tomorrow the last packing job before we head on back to New York begins after what I hope will be a good nights sleep and then a trauma free exit. We'll see.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-15473821618894753932022-05-24T17:09:00.002-05:002022-05-25T04:02:30.144-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - ALMOST TIME TO CHECK IN<p><span style="color: #45818e;">TIME TO SAY ARRIVERDERCI</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1n0L22hMsiAimaWNZRsVDqGrz9zBkYwnET2AZI3COjT0iQW5KA7bQTb44_4jGb-jXcR9DDKReU4KfsT9ZNUZ3Me26_QF5lfY7WNRr8_p5alF4ZiRd5h67AR1m_hsbDhpPXwZkh6pPHGuUN7NsNxkFF9SWtD2NuRMKWTltjS6YQ8qN576mrgLlpyGqIA/s4032/IMG_5005.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1n0L22hMsiAimaWNZRsVDqGrz9zBkYwnET2AZI3COjT0iQW5KA7bQTb44_4jGb-jXcR9DDKReU4KfsT9ZNUZ3Me26_QF5lfY7WNRr8_p5alF4ZiRd5h67AR1m_hsbDhpPXwZkh6pPHGuUN7NsNxkFF9SWtD2NuRMKWTltjS6YQ8qN576mrgLlpyGqIA/w300-h400/IMG_5005.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The best part of traveling is sharing it with the ones who matter to you. Sitting at dinner tonight we quizzed each other on things like what was the name of the winery where we did the wine tasting, who was the first to go in the pool or what was your best meal, We had answers for some but not all. That's why I do these blogs. They press the details of our travels into words that we can use to recount exactly where we first had pici al cacio e pepe, or the name of the store that still holds the painting I'd like to come back for. It takes the burden off of an aging memory and lets me relive the "what, where's and yes that really did happen's" of our trips.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwYI1SYjDfbq5Y8h842XdN5GdiP_phTCVQBWCLlv0MvRYDAmoBB_wMkFHn_gO_WuR0M70Z3Q2r45jmoXBas9C1LpPFKURUMZSHUKZC_279LxDp1-JKnO58BzguASyAQ_T8smiuBdVwVsFlb_F5O8jRyTmusKfCIBWmKih3zAyivZqDiqelF70Fha-fw/s1200/IMG_8828.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="799" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwYI1SYjDfbq5Y8h842XdN5GdiP_phTCVQBWCLlv0MvRYDAmoBB_wMkFHn_gO_WuR0M70Z3Q2r45jmoXBas9C1LpPFKURUMZSHUKZC_279LxDp1-JKnO58BzguASyAQ_T8smiuBdVwVsFlb_F5O8jRyTmusKfCIBWmKih3zAyivZqDiqelF70Fha-fw/w266-h400/IMG_8828.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>My family appreciates the scrapbooks I assemble using the bits of ephemera we've collected along the way, some sketches of places we've been and prints from all the pictures I've taken but it's the words that define the final story.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD76-DrTsDEQmJXcaWkX2m9PiM9tfDaBrK55jXUQWMQwcHfDaZWPapyIz-CaF71PymszJH6qtpPOw1LtVnp0VTiqFlX4UnrXCKh_vJNTNSZXE5mbLtsiTDPjWBCYk0qEaTGi_ryEg_exNQoINZYaPJVIlIwDmGurhgvowRqM7rDAzaUEK1kaOgjszD4A/s4032/IMG_4949.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD76-DrTsDEQmJXcaWkX2m9PiM9tfDaBrK55jXUQWMQwcHfDaZWPapyIz-CaF71PymszJH6qtpPOw1LtVnp0VTiqFlX4UnrXCKh_vJNTNSZXE5mbLtsiTDPjWBCYk0qEaTGi_ryEg_exNQoINZYaPJVIlIwDmGurhgvowRqM7rDAzaUEK1kaOgjszD4A/w300-h400/IMG_4949.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Today is our last full day in Maiori. The day started out overcast and cool. Emmy and I continued our ritual of breakfast on the roof. I chose the pancakes and Emmy chose the scrambled eggs and a platter of cold meats that were part of the included breakfast that in our reservation we chose to ignore. My pancakes lived up or down to my expectations of high design with little substance. Emmy's breakfast fared about the same. But my macchiato served in an tall glass would be what would keep me going for the day. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguW4a5v-H0tIUC_D6MmvOUaRNiwuBQ0uQshumNAW6S3oJgzftI4ixygsLasz0iXAPKE0irWy_QrQ1fdekWFx8ywWdI9_GxZw7JKS1Vkc0Y7nk8jjrAzyngEVHTLioiVuMUVtphPh5oVjidWj8VkVxXALEZtOKZR4gjPvJL3IY1SDpTyC1C3TWilnvEDA/s4032/IMG_4943.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguW4a5v-H0tIUC_D6MmvOUaRNiwuBQ0uQshumNAW6S3oJgzftI4ixygsLasz0iXAPKE0irWy_QrQ1fdekWFx8ywWdI9_GxZw7JKS1Vkc0Y7nk8jjrAzyngEVHTLioiVuMUVtphPh5oVjidWj8VkVxXALEZtOKZR4gjPvJL3IY1SDpTyC1C3TWilnvEDA/w300-h400/IMG_4943.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy and Rick decided to wait out the haze enveloping the beach by staying in the room reading or listening to podcasts while I went exploring. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicsleAVtO5c9lXDmLOmc9fL2bP5ExQKXD8lAfJ1gi3PsjX0KozE6Cp5dbpM3vlgMZIIZiaxOcSrdTiDPGCxFZK52oX410aPZKetrZ8xw1-N4bRA7ZVrS_1Oahsbu33SOUKfcDY4oc28FywyWJdQLrON-mfKf5KjdO6D0KXK_6vQjO4kGu9aPW2ZdbuNQ/s4032/IMG_5041.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicsleAVtO5c9lXDmLOmc9fL2bP5ExQKXD8lAfJ1gi3PsjX0KozE6Cp5dbpM3vlgMZIIZiaxOcSrdTiDPGCxFZK52oX410aPZKetrZ8xw1-N4bRA7ZVrS_1Oahsbu33SOUKfcDY4oc28FywyWJdQLrON-mfKf5KjdO6D0KXK_6vQjO4kGu9aPW2ZdbuNQ/w300-h400/IMG_5041.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I hadn't fallen in love with the seaside towns of the Amalfi Coast. Popularity has hidden much of its old world charm with a midcentury building boom of nondescript apartment buildings and hotels that now look dingy and depressing.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChqj7p1O2zIu6D4Umb6SWz_yDLaDI1vD1711zsIIKdjlFiifE26Jn8J7_QbWWG-hH5EFGxpgS3v-jqG0IEJyXvHhAGbiLm0d6b-Zorp-tdG243kvxy44-33za72vpXYff_77o7qRPSRNlziCbztXac3xeoGcc8XbRd_SxoQd9JizXEJAOSPt6Retybw/s4032/IMG_4980.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChqj7p1O2zIu6D4Umb6SWz_yDLaDI1vD1711zsIIKdjlFiifE26Jn8J7_QbWWG-hH5EFGxpgS3v-jqG0IEJyXvHhAGbiLm0d6b-Zorp-tdG243kvxy44-33za72vpXYff_77o7qRPSRNlziCbztXac3xeoGcc8XbRd_SxoQd9JizXEJAOSPt6Retybw/w300-h400/IMG_4980.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>What I discovered in my walk was if you walk deep enough into the area beyond the beaches and up into the cliffs there's a lot of soul still there.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHL9l5jJHRVb3KUE7I3lqjNnzRhNs1ppAoc1_NJhhGJF9BIboP-Mvm0OrNodfcAGJtHY9WrAak4dT-RFQkrolH-Tx454hC9qOQucqM41vsELVwvJ5K-cwEIrLtSYB0W7aOLcnWEhVcE45p9pi0pEh6vg2DQLriQZlMYAOq8ZQFhqtlAvhRTkzi9rhezg/s4032/IMG_4991.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHL9l5jJHRVb3KUE7I3lqjNnzRhNs1ppAoc1_NJhhGJF9BIboP-Mvm0OrNodfcAGJtHY9WrAak4dT-RFQkrolH-Tx454hC9qOQucqM41vsELVwvJ5K-cwEIrLtSYB0W7aOLcnWEhVcE45p9pi0pEh6vg2DQLriQZlMYAOq8ZQFhqtlAvhRTkzi9rhezg/w300-h400/IMG_4991.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>There's a church that dominates the night lit up giving a dot on the landscape to anchor yourself as to where you are. My goal was to see if I could find it.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85lPbj-_f3tYwJbKv9LhfIK0zIelYIFtz12sV6VOawUnBRIEvxD9WLiQ0fj-BPNnr-tVrGoDWjRRTAEhRq2Sbz0s6mZ-vOPMEPBoM_ttAsZ48l1Mavr6tS7EC7YMXKQSNn5m4kwS6wxRzrUtczzTe2efQMmelaWV_8d3uWEI_8LUU9QP3CNMbEj14_g/s4032/IMG_4995.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85lPbj-_f3tYwJbKv9LhfIK0zIelYIFtz12sV6VOawUnBRIEvxD9WLiQ0fj-BPNnr-tVrGoDWjRRTAEhRq2Sbz0s6mZ-vOPMEPBoM_ttAsZ48l1Mavr6tS7EC7YMXKQSNn5m4kwS6wxRzrUtczzTe2efQMmelaWV_8d3uWEI_8LUU9QP3CNMbEj14_g/w300-h400/IMG_4995.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Once you're into the streets and alleys that spider web out from the beach the height of those worn buildings obscures the churches dome making it hard to find.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSC82ilEw-stu1ugEdTBV48ija8Ru4PSYV_Z9bA7F4_bNVMXbKbxMqKn3eMAU3T00YNUXs7rr7ivD4O0U8dDXl1Lrwc8tS5f9kDOHFXrTq5KQccxVxxplg69uKHUjGdIIarcmQZrrYP6cf2ApDMqzAksCO35CE7VN-6L2lIZfhBLEBs1r3wuPTb4vqDA/s4032/IMG_4965.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSC82ilEw-stu1ugEdTBV48ija8Ru4PSYV_Z9bA7F4_bNVMXbKbxMqKn3eMAU3T00YNUXs7rr7ivD4O0U8dDXl1Lrwc8tS5f9kDOHFXrTq5KQccxVxxplg69uKHUjGdIIarcmQZrrYP6cf2ApDMqzAksCO35CE7VN-6L2lIZfhBLEBs1r3wuPTb4vqDA/w300-h400/IMG_4965.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It turned out getting lost in the web was an ecclesiastical blessing since my initial wandering took me to a less famous church but one with artifacts the superstitious or irreverent would appreciate. I include myself on the later. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqv-nwWhP3bmPbjKacmHE9joSelhQVVcsZ_pKP7RJFeZA9cdsL3W6TvyZ74PUfTlwjRoqAYt59TusaBS9WffZF51ufL1KZPcnjBW3NoRGyLVYt9GzNeo2I5wfIXRfxME16QEMtOS4xOqymq0V2bH3lwvfyu5d4QJIV1bS5nRwAhMPzsX79pXs-TyAM8Q/s4032/IMG_4970.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqv-nwWhP3bmPbjKacmHE9joSelhQVVcsZ_pKP7RJFeZA9cdsL3W6TvyZ74PUfTlwjRoqAYt59TusaBS9WffZF51ufL1KZPcnjBW3NoRGyLVYt9GzNeo2I5wfIXRfxME16QEMtOS4xOqymq0V2bH3lwvfyu5d4QJIV1bS5nRwAhMPzsX79pXs-TyAM8Q/w300-h400/IMG_4970.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The mutilated Jesus resting under a shroud<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_dmzoKWHk0Wrh5s9Ds_V9TxZ9IbuhTwLFcwSbghfgZqDUkMkRC6HJZlLLuY0kBi2cSuRuz0Xy2yvyjOghh9KpPsOEjeOQqUBj6BcqtHA8mv1q0W9n5Y4rnji8Sid6n_eXb8ofJn4UQWiSMKwWUDH-AiJhBCIE_38jcm-Lh3I_40dU7A9CqTx3TmEhQ/s4032/IMG_4972.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_dmzoKWHk0Wrh5s9Ds_V9TxZ9IbuhTwLFcwSbghfgZqDUkMkRC6HJZlLLuY0kBi2cSuRuz0Xy2yvyjOghh9KpPsOEjeOQqUBj6BcqtHA8mv1q0W9n5Y4rnji8Sid6n_eXb8ofJn4UQWiSMKwWUDH-AiJhBCIE_38jcm-Lh3I_40dU7A9CqTx3TmEhQ/w300-h400/IMG_4972.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>in front of an illustrated marble stone imbedded in the floor showing a group of hooded men was a real dichotomy of the ultra religious and the scarily racist. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI7q8X998ElpYDGjTYzYY-oAkb14UnsWESKgtSvlYZDlR-R9wCVYecpXZ5cXOyCxOgSJSkWOlv0SKYXQK8p_3OkRrXfnAOa7zyvDGYaDBMtn0s4Kc0aFIFT_OfH6el1uDrfj7qjOQbYjPPZv7K0Un-ZphGjqgZuyHQMKQUL73HVjX9MLz8lzN5M-AAA/s4032/IMG_4973.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI7q8X998ElpYDGjTYzYY-oAkb14UnsWESKgtSvlYZDlR-R9wCVYecpXZ5cXOyCxOgSJSkWOlv0SKYXQK8p_3OkRrXfnAOa7zyvDGYaDBMtn0s4Kc0aFIFT_OfH6el1uDrfj7qjOQbYjPPZv7K0Un-ZphGjqgZuyHQMKQUL73HVjX9MLz8lzN5M-AAA/w300-h400/IMG_4973.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The fortuneteller with her mini-me on the other side of the alter added another supernatural aura to this temple of god.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVriCnePkykv5R9bTdQa_koRFsyXtwfNkZbAnOgbOMii6HHk_UfAM6VfViBMBeRfGC4h2udSdTkYQ7cX1UacaKKMar2BzUIOtB1fXVL4DsI-rC0i0C-hngZ9aQR53mcKxZcAlaSDd-pvXmHSMFVSyzGpdwoT6iAUHpDCVgaTtrM7DKQ7qIku7gNOTTeQ/s4032/IMG_4968.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVriCnePkykv5R9bTdQa_koRFsyXtwfNkZbAnOgbOMii6HHk_UfAM6VfViBMBeRfGC4h2udSdTkYQ7cX1UacaKKMar2BzUIOtB1fXVL4DsI-rC0i0C-hngZ9aQR53mcKxZcAlaSDd-pvXmHSMFVSyzGpdwoT6iAUHpDCVgaTtrM7DKQ7qIku7gNOTTeQ/w300-h400/IMG_4968.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>And to top it off there was a diorama of the birth of Christ canopied with a blue plastic tarp to protect it from a leak in the roof. But by far the scariest scenario in the diorama was the woman in the foreground being taken down by the priest in his vestments. I didn't run out of here but I certainly watched my back as I left.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWVKT89mr9bSreUGLI1m_xsKV3r-6_Q983Ib1sTvvLPqiUA2CGZ3AkDdmH_vo57WXPV77Tban1JobiGGHJZEpWyTUfg7sAdyd3XrzSJdkQd9lC76ziHii43cHyJIG2YaKR-OmPOHA23tvFkcev6oIwQgkWguWEX8T6u2dM4YLI_ShVEz2RunTT-HUnxA/s4032/IMG_4982.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWVKT89mr9bSreUGLI1m_xsKV3r-6_Q983Ib1sTvvLPqiUA2CGZ3AkDdmH_vo57WXPV77Tban1JobiGGHJZEpWyTUfg7sAdyd3XrzSJdkQd9lC76ziHii43cHyJIG2YaKR-OmPOHA23tvFkcev6oIwQgkWguWEX8T6u2dM4YLI_ShVEz2RunTT-HUnxA/w300-h400/IMG_4982.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I followed my nose from the haunting church of the shrouded Christ toward where I believed I'd run into the Duomo I'd been looking for.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1tipQTlBAGJhDVEtmjHjsylvsgArqho9n_8mmUfL0b36JpAuKYT4ZEm1gEN0CZ4LPwdLU_zgbBduLcEt5csR9G1Pk55HdvA4fLjEnt1GdPDbWu5Q9foAnIZhip9a3P4OXgZkd6a7WayvGqTD3odSCbykvy0v-AEKmgpAZctvn8DAdZKBfrllouTAog/s4032/IMG_4978.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1tipQTlBAGJhDVEtmjHjsylvsgArqho9n_8mmUfL0b36JpAuKYT4ZEm1gEN0CZ4LPwdLU_zgbBduLcEt5csR9G1Pk55HdvA4fLjEnt1GdPDbWu5Q9foAnIZhip9a3P4OXgZkd6a7WayvGqTD3odSCbykvy0v-AEKmgpAZctvn8DAdZKBfrllouTAog/w300-h400/IMG_4978.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>What I discovered was an amazing ancient architecture covered in a patina of decay washed in weathered pastels and rust.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohcBEQFS_w07kUPwNbTTjLXbkGNiTZsrafsKXIVNuVX9UEAKWGjsLnznzf1PMj_UEWFPjeDpz5XCgiy4Kb2YCidzuqCcGYZcO0jKBI9U_zWyrqoTzhFKsTcAYmVv1xfD2qaxs4_UU58MINA1wVZuy2shGzCAyd_fwtkmo4KbIRtzBF0a95fAEwWAr6w/s4032/IMG_4975.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohcBEQFS_w07kUPwNbTTjLXbkGNiTZsrafsKXIVNuVX9UEAKWGjsLnznzf1PMj_UEWFPjeDpz5XCgiy4Kb2YCidzuqCcGYZcO0jKBI9U_zWyrqoTzhFKsTcAYmVv1xfD2qaxs4_UU58MINA1wVZuy2shGzCAyd_fwtkmo4KbIRtzBF0a95fAEwWAr6w/w300-h400/IMG_4975.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Alley ways no wider than a donkey's ass inter-connected the broader streets. These were the paths I followed until I finally found my way to the Duomo I had originally set out to find.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dbrWHWKe6VsPSl3fWD_C1Nxn6VAKily2MVIHwLnMiL4T9OhIcDhOFRkiII3w4oS4N3Dz_wUEbykna-yNxgH1DuENDFlgrkXlDX89sFbSCRUdReC1NVAKVSsEe9klO3GujqaqxrPCO9KBzPwlEPlL_8kKEF4dcBQLJAsKkLaJdz9URYhkkToa-fCCAQ/s4032/IMG_4983.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dbrWHWKe6VsPSl3fWD_C1Nxn6VAKily2MVIHwLnMiL4T9OhIcDhOFRkiII3w4oS4N3Dz_wUEbykna-yNxgH1DuENDFlgrkXlDX89sFbSCRUdReC1NVAKVSsEe9klO3GujqaqxrPCO9KBzPwlEPlL_8kKEF4dcBQLJAsKkLaJdz9URYhkkToa-fCCAQ/w300-h400/IMG_4983.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Inside was another glorious dome and oculus emanating from the intersection of four arched naves. There seemed to be no security at all in either one of these churches. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtDW0lXGL-ILWky0_4n94NxSOGnkjYEA-aNzyBB3mq9KnmhmGH9B-HJWELdsEcn6tl7Z5DljCLXZQ6Eg4_1QT25USZkp1rP8rVc3dTGQiwEJjVqnV7QOoG4ITgVPEB_XXybNsqe64GWo5wqdp-k5FvQY-Qm0MyvjHCPHOYG7s6VAduIZtT24gtLBpyg/s4032/IMG_4987.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtDW0lXGL-ILWky0_4n94NxSOGnkjYEA-aNzyBB3mq9KnmhmGH9B-HJWELdsEcn6tl7Z5DljCLXZQ6Eg4_1QT25USZkp1rP8rVc3dTGQiwEJjVqnV7QOoG4ITgVPEB_XXybNsqe64GWo5wqdp-k5FvQY-Qm0MyvjHCPHOYG7s6VAduIZtT24gtLBpyg/w300-h400/IMG_4987.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>You could walk through each one and peek into their private offices even opening closets filled with the priest's vestments. I thought of trying one on but then I demurred. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsaLxM6pBCoMN-_XL0izxMwSaxFkmd3I5uoxn-W_ufTVsV-3F7GZZlViRks-LWzIa-Pvakr-o3_wL1zZUWlseMIlicpf8QPN5LsNhqMATN7DnkQZPPPEOcKbZU2_1ZJ1Z6nSk33ea5t_ZDkX70VCO8d35NSO7sF-MAlyEgZR4x_r0YXHe41IIpgxGuA/s4032/IMG_4981.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsaLxM6pBCoMN-_XL0izxMwSaxFkmd3I5uoxn-W_ufTVsV-3F7GZZlViRks-LWzIa-Pvakr-o3_wL1zZUWlseMIlicpf8QPN5LsNhqMATN7DnkQZPPPEOcKbZU2_1ZJ1Z6nSk33ea5t_ZDkX70VCO8d35NSO7sF-MAlyEgZR4x_r0YXHe41IIpgxGuA/w300-h400/IMG_4981.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It turned out the way to the church had been right where I started. I had gone around in a complete circle but if I hadn't I wouldn't have discovered the aged architecture of the original agricultural core of Miaori.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3ZcIcAA2AzlPLebzC4huQWxEnsSbXyx0sujRpTC42MFZ5Qz5ZgaSaDaxRQp_DXKOypab1iHqwHF4rDTPN7lPIO_OWC_60xouK4zYdFc4OIittSlHwCoHYZBRwaYskkQZq1V2jAKUcPEARxox-yloT0moXoza3POqlKt01mhtUXhy7ugBfzqCxrmT9w/s4032/IMG_5034.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3ZcIcAA2AzlPLebzC4huQWxEnsSbXyx0sujRpTC42MFZ5Qz5ZgaSaDaxRQp_DXKOypab1iHqwHF4rDTPN7lPIO_OWC_60xouK4zYdFc4OIittSlHwCoHYZBRwaYskkQZq1V2jAKUcPEARxox-yloT0moXoza3POqlKt01mhtUXhy7ugBfzqCxrmT9w/w300-h400/IMG_5034.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>That night we were looking to close out our trip with one final meal of distinction. We chose a restaurant with high online praise only to find out it must have been written by the owner. You never want to end a vacation on a bad meal but when the frutta da mare arrived looking as if it came from a defrosted frozen meal packet we had to admit defeat.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdiUlgZQukakJs5j6uvt6eqP1Oo7J_XpMuOS0cA9zv4LSKe5c08s98WHLMRwmOEQ2OTcHQIJb5vEZzIJpCtJVTsl3gH4WtCDlUlzh-ErXYqc2ZCvKl3krwygjT-CzNYnHlW-pgCwj6ZdRjVsguWTnZAsXc9dAn-5pPANn4v53Zw1KDb9vbw1-xUbQITg/s4032/IMG_5028.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdiUlgZQukakJs5j6uvt6eqP1Oo7J_XpMuOS0cA9zv4LSKe5c08s98WHLMRwmOEQ2OTcHQIJb5vEZzIJpCtJVTsl3gH4WtCDlUlzh-ErXYqc2ZCvKl3krwygjT-CzNYnHlW-pgCwj6ZdRjVsguWTnZAsXc9dAn-5pPANn4v53Zw1KDb9vbw1-xUbQITg/w300-h400/IMG_5028.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Here's hoping we can find something near the airport in Rome to fly away on a better note.<p></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-21334018973650512652022-05-23T11:01:00.001-05:002022-05-24T10:41:47.985-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - THE AMALFI<p> <span style="color: #3d85c6;">ONE LAZY DAY</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4c31aFSvqykJFYYishB-suebtUEQ9NhJC6iee3g97I4jA6FbEsR33MQq2WaOX81hM_KUESGqqzVVAl4E4Mapi5qDu0QMD9d_XcdeZQCK_N60WxgldLt7kqa1xBuFeu0FwRQiSR9CYZ4ZCcWAcwBdOvzUwKGIjDnFFiq-V2-Wfmc5GWjP31U_83SzIpA/s4032/IMG_4838.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4c31aFSvqykJFYYishB-suebtUEQ9NhJC6iee3g97I4jA6FbEsR33MQq2WaOX81hM_KUESGqqzVVAl4E4Mapi5qDu0QMD9d_XcdeZQCK_N60WxgldLt7kqa1xBuFeu0FwRQiSR9CYZ4ZCcWAcwBdOvzUwKGIjDnFFiq-V2-Wfmc5GWjP31U_83SzIpA/w300-h400/IMG_4838.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Your first day anywhere is an adjustment. It's the day you get the kinks out, learn the lay of the land and begin the process of acclimation. When you are only spending two full days and a couple of half days in a place like we are on the Amalfi Coast you have to work fast to not feel like a foreigner in a strange land. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qGCxvBoGsLHUScKG24RwneHS5eZk2iaV-jT0_Yf1ICdnQTopmDxdgAuAq3wCdkuRshNSrQRGIbWqdApKnMl7PBUjgEuhOC9Lj2Fg21AJ2UQHF1uRmt3R9WDkGdZduEZ7U0dq4KO6Zhc6i6dC12JrmNp0WYvNmnnJFMUS4ttQkpwDnAqu9pTmxCFTfA/s4032/IMG_4844.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qGCxvBoGsLHUScKG24RwneHS5eZk2iaV-jT0_Yf1ICdnQTopmDxdgAuAq3wCdkuRshNSrQRGIbWqdApKnMl7PBUjgEuhOC9Lj2Fg21AJ2UQHF1uRmt3R9WDkGdZduEZ7U0dq4KO6Zhc6i6dC12JrmNp0WYvNmnnJFMUS4ttQkpwDnAqu9pTmxCFTfA/w300-h400/IMG_4844.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We started off with breakfast. When we booked our hotel we did it without including breakfast. For us this is the way we roll. We never know until we can smell the bacon of that morning if we are all going to have breakfast or not. It may be all of us or a few of us. Or if the night before turns out to have been a rough one no one might have the energy to face a plate of scramble eggs and maple syrup. So why pay for something you're not sure if you are going to use. Today it was going to be just Emmy and me. Rick's stomach did not want to participate. Each hotel has its own way of serving and this one was particularly difficult to figure out. The normal procedure is to come in and then be seated by a breakfast host who notes your room number and offers you their variety of coffees. Here we sat ourselves and went to the buffet area without any sort of introduction. I'm more of a sweets person but Emmy only goes for savory. The buffet was impressive but there were no braziers of cooked meats or egg dishes to choose from. Disappointment was written across her face. There was an a la carte menu on the table and it did include several items like eggs benedict and an meat or cheese platter. I'm using the word platter generously as the portions for everything at this hotel are for the faint of eating. When the waiter arrived at our table he began explaining what was included in the prepaid breakfast. Here's where we learned that at this hotel the hot and savory part of the menu is something you order, it is not set out on the buffet perhaps for fear someone might overstock their plate. At tomorrow's breakfast, should we decide to participate, we'll know now how it works. That's one lesson learned. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6M0b93V83trdpAK7GEld1lNn8TXUqSAJ1kTp7HGdBIOh24nrjstULa2dWUHlWKXQPauFMWoRjKKGz-3qtCsAihcReGh4uoR36KSWEiLry-KOLarygdCQKxAUxtNxLvD4hXF1Wgcl3C9eMtpswEhCpFvQr-sVdMo4P53ErDtLEog2p3ULWyy4agg6V-Q/s4032/IMG_4856.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6M0b93V83trdpAK7GEld1lNn8TXUqSAJ1kTp7HGdBIOh24nrjstULa2dWUHlWKXQPauFMWoRjKKGz-3qtCsAihcReGh4uoR36KSWEiLry-KOLarygdCQKxAUxtNxLvD4hXF1Wgcl3C9eMtpswEhCpFvQr-sVdMo4P53ErDtLEog2p3ULWyy4agg6V-Q/w300-h400/IMG_4856.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Now for the beach, the blurb on hotels.stilla$$holes explained how the hotel had access to its own private beach. This was sort of true. You could access two beaches through the hotel. You paid the hotel for this privilege: 25 euros each day you wanted to use the beach for an umbrella and two lounge chairs. Because there were three of us and they wouldn't do halvsies we paid 50 euros and secured two umbrellas and four chairs. The hotel also provided you with towels for which you paid 10 euros per towel that was refunded when you returned them. Lesson two complete.<p></p><p>The beaches at Maiori are beautiful. The Mediterranean aqua blue waters are almost as calm as glass, I'm guessing due to the bay like curve of the coast here in Maiori. The Italians use way to many vowels every chance they get. We chose our position on the third tier of umbrellas away from the water. This was lesson three and we learned this by chance and not by experience.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHz_w3-wCRg3I5pFwbeZGnv_01IXXu139L0PhWM7h4eH4y04XQL5uSY9YuYPkqSJlq7Xj3NnON8K_V9NMit2pnrHfJzU1CPpnqsgg0ttVehcztb3VmOhNfk1vfTZwabqa2xrIUlTkXlcIUeOdfwZxN19zfeS1MwydwxOBYjrXl4XrRMYPUxVfrFJlWMw/s4032/IMG_4997.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHz_w3-wCRg3I5pFwbeZGnv_01IXXu139L0PhWM7h4eH4y04XQL5uSY9YuYPkqSJlq7Xj3NnON8K_V9NMit2pnrHfJzU1CPpnqsgg0ttVehcztb3VmOhNfk1vfTZwabqa2xrIUlTkXlcIUeOdfwZxN19zfeS1MwydwxOBYjrXl4XrRMYPUxVfrFJlWMw/w300-h400/IMG_4997.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The beach is not a fine sand beach; it's a course sand that turns into small rocks and then larger rocks the closer you get to the water. Our position was right on the edge of sand becoming small rock, the kind although smooth still makes you wince when you walk on it. It meant we were on comfortable although hot sand and those in front of us had to do the bunny hop every time they stood up and tried to hot foot it on the pebbles on their way into the water. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEBwNMNp1wzbsxVrb6zmcyMWENKIDpaHMkocFQVQwqd7LVFXC-F97v76SJwvCSu_oEOrWQyeef-pGza-qnDUM_H5XS6H5y78WZcb9FhDTH3-4ePuINcCXM2ixPWsnhrxHP6NvQlYGzhfGQb7t2BdIP_U8lxqsnt3FHxUjPpDDO8F32ExXavrBoC-qtew/s4032/IMG_4857.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEBwNMNp1wzbsxVrb6zmcyMWENKIDpaHMkocFQVQwqd7LVFXC-F97v76SJwvCSu_oEOrWQyeef-pGza-qnDUM_H5XS6H5y78WZcb9FhDTH3-4ePuINcCXM2ixPWsnhrxHP6NvQlYGzhfGQb7t2BdIP_U8lxqsnt3FHxUjPpDDO8F32ExXavrBoC-qtew/w300-h400/IMG_4857.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We had arrived around 10:30 deciding we'd stay out until one-ish and then go to lunch. All we all wanted was pizza. This became lesson number four. Lunch at almost every place we tried required a reservation. The best I could do with any eateries that didn't look as if they prepared their meals in a microwave was a 2:30 seating for three. We were way too hunger.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWhs4lVoGsGZ1IYbxngDDBWGe8rR_mQ9j862fL3tbCFd9ueEpNsbZ-S6JSP7NLfBA7--mOxpsMpbsRYUcHIlI3jLa8o8zwEN_VfaPW_OvT3NGYModUegW0kIjn6zN51_woAdW-FqGAltEOlWeobhsOBXwq_invl95qnhRA01KRrxjn4DZgfnAekcuBQ/s4032/IMG_4864.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWhs4lVoGsGZ1IYbxngDDBWGe8rR_mQ9j862fL3tbCFd9ueEpNsbZ-S6JSP7NLfBA7--mOxpsMpbsRYUcHIlI3jLa8o8zwEN_VfaPW_OvT3NGYModUegW0kIjn6zN51_woAdW-FqGAltEOlWeobhsOBXwq_invl95qnhRA01KRrxjn4DZgfnAekcuBQ/w300-h400/IMG_4864.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We ended up defeated and opted for a place advertising pizza and burgers with plastic chairs and no pretentions. Turned out the piazza was classic and I think even Prue from the Great British Baking Show would have approved. I guess that's lesson four and a half.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqzsfwu0g3OpfxpUXQEdwE7YBt-vA994Va-6dQVdGjMxu9uzkT0qpB8T_GdoYqhf8EhXbeCGa3ET8YHjI5TQebzWiHFScsf9nSdxUDnHQ3fQNy3K1V0IfzfZKJjvbAKphrVNaOY-FCD9HOKz0MMpzIaN9d4wE5xLpiWOsxJJaC5jXk6GxwIzWNr_gAA/s4032/IMG_4898.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguqzsfwu0g3OpfxpUXQEdwE7YBt-vA994Va-6dQVdGjMxu9uzkT0qpB8T_GdoYqhf8EhXbeCGa3ET8YHjI5TQebzWiHFScsf9nSdxUDnHQ3fQNy3K1V0IfzfZKJjvbAKphrVNaOY-FCD9HOKz0MMpzIaN9d4wE5xLpiWOsxJJaC5jXk6GxwIzWNr_gAA/w300-h400/IMG_4898.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Once back at the hotel both Rick and Emmy napped through most of the rest of the afternoon. It wasn't until just before dinner that they both roused. After showering Rick and I went to the restaurant's lounge for a drink. Lesson five: I'm not sure if I'd order another Limoncello spritzer. I was hoping for the smooth sweet taste of the Limoncello but it was way too tart for me.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIJsuga3Y0-WDPORt7PlUuV2D_B5Ft-3-pl-Dz4eM5aOLtwAST6Yi87ry6wxjdrJK_XeyxwrnkYVem3AZwkuruw3eVpOMWTj74PLlTJC9f5PGuvRFGY54d8fo66SjSRBjD53U0K0DTjLWy5f1N-6qvU9kHoxYhmQcal3_pE3N_ji2-MImy9L1BKE8PQ/s4032/IMG_4901.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIJsuga3Y0-WDPORt7PlUuV2D_B5Ft-3-pl-Dz4eM5aOLtwAST6Yi87ry6wxjdrJK_XeyxwrnkYVem3AZwkuruw3eVpOMWTj74PLlTJC9f5PGuvRFGY54d8fo66SjSRBjD53U0K0DTjLWy5f1N-6qvU9kHoxYhmQcal3_pE3N_ji2-MImy9L1BKE8PQ/w300-h400/IMG_4901.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Lesson six and probably the most important one of all is one we really didn't learn here but one we always rely on when we're traveling: ask for anything with a smile and always learn the words in the native tongues of the country you are visiting for "please" and "thank you". It will get you through many a hard time. This is how we scored reservations at the Torre Normanna restaurant, a seven hundred year old watch tower jutting out into the bay. The smile bought us the help of our concierge. A "grazie" got us an 8:30 table for three overlooking the bay as the sun was doing its final decent.<p></p><p>Here's our dinner:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBBgdeZ2eskEijBOZVRt8eJYp2Ilxb0JIGgTygoyjFttwYlZeN8xy9eXLeImCTgO3dtCTUCv7G24sFsdg1_q356-NSqPyjmBoFH2LBmk8GO3aRUzAIxUeu7SGSlAjy96amlp1JRxHHjCw02Z0Gh-wLu9XSg0fza_tw2e7zXH1e3eLlzG5BzHILtdENw/s4032/IMG_4909.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBBgdeZ2eskEijBOZVRt8eJYp2Ilxb0JIGgTygoyjFttwYlZeN8xy9eXLeImCTgO3dtCTUCv7G24sFsdg1_q356-NSqPyjmBoFH2LBmk8GO3aRUzAIxUeu7SGSlAjy96amlp1JRxHHjCw02Z0Gh-wLu9XSg0fza_tw2e7zXH1e3eLlzG5BzHILtdENw/w300-h400/IMG_4909.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Appetizers for Rick and Emmy: Six delicious succulent and salty oysters each served cold with slices of Amalfi lemons<p></p><p>My appetizer was a puff pastry stuffed with cod and burrata on a pool of Provolone dei Monaco fondue. Apparently it was so good I must have dived in before I could remember to take a picture</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaS2SeJKt__iaoYZECXPyKSfaDO1588Lu9G78DlIfoI5HXnFfe1naPVmwVa-17a52y82BAl4itNofz_n-cbWB9uoSdTsXU1M8VYWMglUw8w0bAViH50HUfk9YqDgbhQf35Uapv94iZIjoupgQrXwY9TDjXCs_hrNpZenuaZUbBgYYNo-YsYBjct0IuyA/s4032/IMG_4911.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaS2SeJKt__iaoYZECXPyKSfaDO1588Lu9G78DlIfoI5HXnFfe1naPVmwVa-17a52y82BAl4itNofz_n-cbWB9uoSdTsXU1M8VYWMglUw8w0bAViH50HUfk9YqDgbhQf35Uapv94iZIjoupgQrXwY9TDjXCs_hrNpZenuaZUbBgYYNo-YsYBjct0IuyA/w300-h400/IMG_4911.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick's main course was a seared sea bass sautéed in lemon and capers with a dressing of broccoli and julienne fried leeks.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZ-5XKB_lSz6MopBD7gaqBzHmwNUBc4to_Ma6NS0dL4iv6utduvjPzxppvuN3zkkFdEg3noeUTTcVbpNacVGt7La8WHcFE3i47-wA8hpCD7QXBavP50Ir35cAcLRaXTUG_h5onrVJHPl7rBgqGjvqx_mmbF6nlyGWlkFWYcBdeqEfwno_5PZ59kif7w/s4032/IMG_4912.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZ-5XKB_lSz6MopBD7gaqBzHmwNUBc4to_Ma6NS0dL4iv6utduvjPzxppvuN3zkkFdEg3noeUTTcVbpNacVGt7La8WHcFE3i47-wA8hpCD7QXBavP50Ir35cAcLRaXTUG_h5onrVJHPl7rBgqGjvqx_mmbF6nlyGWlkFWYcBdeqEfwno_5PZ59kif7w/w300-h400/IMG_4912.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy chose a pasta for her main course, a handmade scialatielli in a fresh tomato, garlic, olive oil and parsley sauce and then ladened with mussels, assorted clams, shrimp and scampi.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2P5i0xrAgfrAG6Vc-8lOCoFV55IXY0lpXgdpUJa7jgP1Px9Z7Dagzy1j1D3Q1TkSCi4dJNn0cUo8VaFW_xlhD7Zr6xtjFiwutXNvocyURW2YPZ5pFt1hVLA_TfCkCNdAjiE8ihBezdXKdTDK1qOFyMDPyJfYbxNmfx6ZxtR7aV_QTzxzZbqrgn9UPgQ/s4032/IMG_4910.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2P5i0xrAgfrAG6Vc-8lOCoFV55IXY0lpXgdpUJa7jgP1Px9Z7Dagzy1j1D3Q1TkSCi4dJNn0cUo8VaFW_xlhD7Zr6xtjFiwutXNvocyURW2YPZ5pFt1hVLA_TfCkCNdAjiE8ihBezdXKdTDK1qOFyMDPyJfYbxNmfx6ZxtR7aV_QTzxzZbqrgn9UPgQ/w300-h400/IMG_4910.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>For my main course I went for a local sea bream filet in a lightly herbed broth with olives, capers and vegetables topped with a crisp bread cracker <p></p><p>Once again and I'm not sure if it was the wine that did it but my delicious dessert went the way of my appetizer without the honor of a photograph of its own</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zyfbqF0X6o6DG2KlsTWP2C2N2Rgzgj4qWKT-g72fHddDworrKPBlJUAWa2YjKZXkR2IV7i4F1HMdPgx0gkLJFcvkQBNZXQSK2gCN7JmIBSeJ41IQ05ddDCLQV8j1_BIglF5sdtyxPPiuiFuG5wizIAtuZxZFnrb3p_GNicxdAm8uW_4mAVKIlpXepw/s4032/IMG_4873.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zyfbqF0X6o6DG2KlsTWP2C2N2Rgzgj4qWKT-g72fHddDworrKPBlJUAWa2YjKZXkR2IV7i4F1HMdPgx0gkLJFcvkQBNZXQSK2gCN7JmIBSeJ41IQ05ddDCLQV8j1_BIglF5sdtyxPPiuiFuG5wizIAtuZxZFnrb3p_GNicxdAm8uW_4mAVKIlpXepw/w300-h400/IMG_4873.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The last lesson, number seven, is to enjoy. We have always made travel a priority. In the TAP Airline lounge in Lisbon there's a saying by Saint Augustine painted on the wall that reads: " The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page". It's a lesson that for us is the reason for living, that and gelato.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-25375796996318778612022-05-22T10:19:00.001-05:002022-05-23T02:40:28.477-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - DEPARTURES AND ARRIVALS<p> <span style="color: #cc0000;">WTF</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8WMHYQ2Cd438EKzdRoB-BJP0DKf3acF9I2WI1ujbYyWLUUPbpfilqqVGScfp9MZKKl023Hg_Vbo48mLsFwCvXgkZJiK-lgcuc1FjwITQ0feSW91fVH_1nnC_M8blLuXwsrJyPl2BlEAnbhmP-HDHGqERp6R5jjeXMt2B_KZRwW2Njvy9EHaCSOyl6Q/s4032/IMG_4133.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8WMHYQ2Cd438EKzdRoB-BJP0DKf3acF9I2WI1ujbYyWLUUPbpfilqqVGScfp9MZKKl023Hg_Vbo48mLsFwCvXgkZJiK-lgcuc1FjwITQ0feSW91fVH_1nnC_M8blLuXwsrJyPl2BlEAnbhmP-HDHGqERp6R5jjeXMt2B_KZRwW2Njvy9EHaCSOyl6Q/w300-h400/IMG_4133.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>When a vacation entails more than one destination the restorative benefits of that vacation can vaporize on the spot into mass panic and the uttering of vile words toward inanimate objects, "Where the f*#k did you put my f*#king power cord. We're not going anywhere until someone finds my g@d damn cord!"<div><p></p><p>This time around our packing and unpacking, double checking of every nook and cranny and getting everything loaded into the car went off without a swear word uttered or a loss of dignity by any one of the three of us. I checked our bedroom and our bath, Rick did a visual assessment of the kitchen cupboards and frig and Emmy took care of her bedroom and bath. When all the bags had been zipped shut and loaded into the car it was time to say our good-byes and drive out the gates of Armena one last time.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhC_Ibhvnnm62ubJx0OFlResupUhiI_ZcqWsj06gmDXqAt8rKDefxFZPNHmv908ng_QQOFHjP91i7FWELQf9HmILr3NJIRRP9atBksxcQ2LXgrVYGEHEvVTzyQBOZS86goNRf13miVtkNzGiouzXA6iLFjgQCfic2p5qN6wTKohIL24jsvDB1oRKjCHw/s4032/IMG_4759.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhC_Ibhvnnm62ubJx0OFlResupUhiI_ZcqWsj06gmDXqAt8rKDefxFZPNHmv908ng_QQOFHjP91i7FWELQf9HmILr3NJIRRP9atBksxcQ2LXgrVYGEHEvVTzyQBOZS86goNRf13miVtkNzGiouzXA6iLFjgQCfic2p5qN6wTKohIL24jsvDB1oRKjCHw/w300-h400/IMG_4759.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We all hugged, promised we'd all be back, turned over the opener for our private gate to Alessandro and drove away kicking up a final cloud of dust turning Armena into a memory. As we bounced along the rutted gravel road, Emmy seated in the front and playing the role of navigator asked, "Papa can I have your leather bag ?"<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0SOBD9RsUEeF9mnowHp0JT25bdpH6RSp1tyRsGSkafWfSI-UcOalJ-GJcMIexP7WgDtqp_iHIWe52RASH0ccFKzvc1LaL4hzEfBJqc4zHU1WjsY9qm9u5W04OyTy_GWT6kq_D3qtzsFuQ9w5yKdl5LV2MgSF-oWfnon0RJN6PpUjgwoWRZJt1DX2VOw/s4032/IMG_4843.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0SOBD9RsUEeF9mnowHp0JT25bdpH6RSp1tyRsGSkafWfSI-UcOalJ-GJcMIexP7WgDtqp_iHIWe52RASH0ccFKzvc1LaL4hzEfBJqc4zHU1WjsY9qm9u5W04OyTy_GWT6kq_D3qtzsFuQ9w5yKdl5LV2MgSF-oWfnon0RJN6PpUjgwoWRZJt1DX2VOw/w300-h400/IMG_4843.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I asked Rick, who was sitting in the back seat, to pass the bag up to Emmy, the bag with all our itinerary information, the bag with all our money, the bag with our CDC cards and the bag with our F*#KING passports. The g@d damn bag that was still sitting on the couch in the living room back in Armena. Not all departures go smoothly.</div><div><p></p><p>Our return to Armena was much sooner than we had expected. We hadn't even made if off the dirt road so we turned around and sheepishly retrieved the bag, our passports but not our dignity.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCajOaI5iGdhwwHhMG2smTgfJ_k6-ii-KJYybf9jBud7KIViu5GL0c3aTfQWXqx3NO-y6bu0YCtrcY2yVWmlQBoSFUFbYxYVeI40ZaLL0VE0EeTNbLL9PNmLQtJeMyR9xopsY8nPdc1138vKJMjYeKghWj8l9DBrph1Jbcb7gOfc4ReIiWawtK1R4UQ/s4032/IMG_4767.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCajOaI5iGdhwwHhMG2smTgfJ_k6-ii-KJYybf9jBud7KIViu5GL0c3aTfQWXqx3NO-y6bu0YCtrcY2yVWmlQBoSFUFbYxYVeI40ZaLL0VE0EeTNbLL9PNmLQtJeMyR9xopsY8nPdc1138vKJMjYeKghWj8l9DBrph1Jbcb7gOfc4ReIiWawtK1R4UQ/w300-h400/IMG_4767.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Once calm was returned there was one more thing we needed to do to make our journey to the Amalfi Coast complete: we needed to clean the car of the dust of Armena by getting it washed.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFG7KU2vwJgOaOzpEBbGdcXaXbtmpLfHwR71ODcwNYBAQrP1B8yyGZbOR_Y5149EMqMrXSxJciTEdSLD1gBefPaJje8fraHVFF9knW5FVoWAYO1LFbCVY5vnx6iLO_Y_soFDjcgIH5pNcm5g9q28XlgCCDdUsMctCE60FyCdAodjY6REN_Ecd2Xskoig/s4032/IMG_4768.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFG7KU2vwJgOaOzpEBbGdcXaXbtmpLfHwR71ODcwNYBAQrP1B8yyGZbOR_Y5149EMqMrXSxJciTEdSLD1gBefPaJje8fraHVFF9knW5FVoWAYO1LFbCVY5vnx6iLO_Y_soFDjcgIH5pNcm5g9q28XlgCCDdUsMctCE60FyCdAodjY6REN_Ecd2Xskoig/w300-h400/IMG_4768.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>No one wanted to arrive at our new hotel looking like a bunch of rubes. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQA69-lP65EB3pBSuFJRauquqHC9Nte4CWbhznMkY-U62DRRJqlsAxS-n5hFSP4v1be5wNyTYTH2_J2JShyP8nGYLXyWArBalFYaZp3ETTTsDyZOOKqqWluaH26_D6uLSUPvUvJB05MVdweAQE4PmiHWWu-3qXKCU-EZJ0B26zhOcVa7r2JNtDj_-CuQ/s4032/IMG_4776.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQA69-lP65EB3pBSuFJRauquqHC9Nte4CWbhznMkY-U62DRRJqlsAxS-n5hFSP4v1be5wNyTYTH2_J2JShyP8nGYLXyWArBalFYaZp3ETTTsDyZOOKqqWluaH26_D6uLSUPvUvJB05MVdweAQE4PmiHWWu-3qXKCU-EZJ0B26zhOcVa7r2JNtDj_-CuQ/w400-h300/IMG_4776.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Now with the GPS set for the four-star Hotel Club due Torri on the Amalfi Coast we were ready for the five hour drive ahead of us. The first part of the drive took us back through the familiar scenery of winding Tuscan roads and fields of red poppies.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIisCDDGJdiK02rNARJ3m0mGzK9RmYEadT3WfUzMyGecze1MlXfHE0T7uVbakjHl31D-0nhsdMdvjCoO2J-Uh_sMYw-MBhO9urTvfcftNtwHgCqdTVtE9-OArfVbBVzgWxQ18Qach5b8oSZkaO_q-6z8CUiZBoaiGWlH8hLQYVxLRc26AQGSQGvyhNYQ/s4032/IMG_4774.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIisCDDGJdiK02rNARJ3m0mGzK9RmYEadT3WfUzMyGecze1MlXfHE0T7uVbakjHl31D-0nhsdMdvjCoO2J-Uh_sMYw-MBhO9urTvfcftNtwHgCqdTVtE9-OArfVbBVzgWxQ18Qach5b8oSZkaO_q-6z8CUiZBoaiGWlH8hLQYVxLRc26AQGSQGvyhNYQ/w400-h300/IMG_4774.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>With nothing to rush us we stopped along the way at several points to seal in the memory of the breathtakingly beautiful vistas we would be leaving behind. <p></p><p>Once we reached the A1 autostrada the driving became more of a speed rally where I was pushing 140 kph and there were still cars seemingly appearing from nowhere their lights flashing at me in my rearview mirror to move over so they could pass at speeds I believe levitated them off the pavement turning them into flying machines driven by pilots with incomprehensible death wishes.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRxCYK369ByCxWrfmRN5AbbyD6k6c43eenv4_-u3pAUVOKmd8mScv5I93IY22ujT_Ge2TJi8AKKwOO3-2YIH6tKxCBwJAvZVsK_IuEgoLol-sWHZXG-ZtlHLd1vNiGc_03EFfOEM5qPBWerjYLO5SIGjgjKtrSexLEphgSAgzZszApSY6lh8VFC894A/s1000/shutterstock_547823392.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="1000" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRxCYK369ByCxWrfmRN5AbbyD6k6c43eenv4_-u3pAUVOKmd8mScv5I93IY22ujT_Ge2TJi8AKKwOO3-2YIH6tKxCBwJAvZVsK_IuEgoLol-sWHZXG-ZtlHLd1vNiGc_03EFfOEM5qPBWerjYLO5SIGjgjKtrSexLEphgSAgzZszApSY6lh8VFC894A/w400-h239/shutterstock_547823392.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The Adams-Kings had warned us of the drive along the coast as being a nail biting experience but for some reason we had managed to take a different route avoiding all those hairpin turns on the edges of cliffs with no more room to save oneself between a crushing stone wall and an eminent death plunge into the sea below.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQ3wD0h2mFYIHcK_VKk6kK30ug8oRhemgJUE2sz21q89-TW_3-c9_YUDgHvnMcvXEvyIj0yYQcQI_NhmUyMeoJ5DTuwos9tGrHXw--j_f9ygM-xBUO62Pp1j4IruQaZSs3_JE5jBUt_0r0xNq1TtTzSiS0DxQWV-cUgr4nfwkhIeYzEoMFAk2cxc46w/s4032/IMG_4875.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQ3wD0h2mFYIHcK_VKk6kK30ug8oRhemgJUE2sz21q89-TW_3-c9_YUDgHvnMcvXEvyIj0yYQcQI_NhmUyMeoJ5DTuwos9tGrHXw--j_f9ygM-xBUO62Pp1j4IruQaZSs3_JE5jBUt_0r0xNq1TtTzSiS0DxQWV-cUgr4nfwkhIeYzEoMFAk2cxc46w/w300-h400/IMG_4875.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick had booked our hotel through hotels.com and it was the address they had included with our reservation that both Emmy and he had loaded into their Mapquest apps. Let me tell you hotels.com is going to get a real big bitch slap from Rick once we get back to the US. We all started to feel a bit queasy as we got closer and closer to the final destination Mapquest was taking us to. The areas we were now going through seemed a bit seedy and not at all what we were thinking would be a place we'd find a four-star hotel with private beach access. When our female robotic voice purred, "You have arrived at your destination", we were at a back alley driveway with a forty-year-old delivery van parked in it. There was no way or place for me to stop. I had to pass by while the bitch on Mapquest or whatever navigational app we were on rerouted us to ge us back to that same driveway. Emmy and Rick were both furiously punching keys on their iPhones checking and rechecking the address they had been given via <i>hotels.smucks</i> to make sure they had done it correctly. All this was happening as I am trying to figure out were I can pull off of this street we've now found ourselves on so we can sit and reorient ourselves as to what to do next. Somehow I managed to get us turned around. I barely avoided putting us back on the autostrada with no exit for miles and pulled the car into a bus stop. God help anyone telling us we would need to move from this designated bus stop. They were going to have to get a tow truck to do it because I wasn't moving.<br /><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNUEjh_b7ldAgfhtqpqPsyCivU3FlFkDsoG3Pet1HtYD8SLxe6NDlsB0mfPjz6ymGVlde03-qudoU8gABMGPqyl5eFyE_7R73bhXxLAfg8UxmFKOLQyqWLHknSfUmBNUurp_j0iTaCkul2O_xIhKRXuufnVKal-KmRg-SLU6UfHdm7vaHTpBzz3iDVQ/s398/ceramic-shop-vietri-sul-mare-260nw-645751414.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="398" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNUEjh_b7ldAgfhtqpqPsyCivU3FlFkDsoG3Pet1HtYD8SLxe6NDlsB0mfPjz6ymGVlde03-qudoU8gABMGPqyl5eFyE_7R73bhXxLAfg8UxmFKOLQyqWLHknSfUmBNUurp_j0iTaCkul2O_xIhKRXuufnVKal-KmRg-SLU6UfHdm7vaHTpBzz3iDVQ/w400-h281/ceramic-shop-vietri-sul-mare-260nw-645751414.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I suggested that I should get out and walk back to the place <i>hotels.a$&holes</i> had told us was the address for our hotel and see if there was an entrance on the other side. The area we were in was a warren of alleys filled completely with ceramic stores. The facades of all the buildings were covered with tiles and the dingy shops were filled with all sorts of platters, pitchers and plates, oh my. It was a bit like having arrived in Oz. Emmy had me write the name of the hotel and the street address down. This is what I was hoping to find on one hand and hoping was completely the wrong place on the other. I finally asked one of the shop owners if he knew where the Via Diego Taiani was. He pointed me down one of the pedestrian only streets and told me to turn right. When I asked him if I could drive there his face contorted in a way that answered my question without having to use any words. There were no cars allowed in here at all. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3MapjDJZyuGE4MPYH85pSbc_nbX_x4B2PyAVXHVjHfEkVNK0oy2or9bokW0DADw0pQAKEJkcm3Wv8jl5YlMqxAHGrKtskbYzagjpRhtp2CtSlgGz0pnvclcmTad_Jbypo5LhWWrVc7vWPxUIIRaIercrJqn_M6DCeCOn-3xJDSls0rh1wd7NOf-YEA/s1140/bila-amalfi-top-1400x619.gif" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="1140" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3MapjDJZyuGE4MPYH85pSbc_nbX_x4B2PyAVXHVjHfEkVNK0oy2or9bokW0DADw0pQAKEJkcm3Wv8jl5YlMqxAHGrKtskbYzagjpRhtp2CtSlgGz0pnvclcmTad_Jbypo5LhWWrVc7vWPxUIIRaIercrJqn_M6DCeCOn-3xJDSls0rh1wd7NOf-YEA/w400-h217/bila-amalfi-top-1400x619.gif" width="400" /></a></div>I walked back to the safety of our car illegally but safely parked in a bus stop where Emmy and Rick had been on the phone with the hotel where the concierge was telling them this had happened before. A real woman with a real voice gave us new directions to our hotel, another twenty-five minutes away. We were still skeptical. Emmy and I were ready to abandon ship and just leave for the safety of a cheap hotel anywhere but where we were.<p></p><p>But then we all did our best to put on happy faces and to give it one more try. Off we went now to conquer those hairpin turns balancing on the narrow roads and risking certain death on an unfortunate drop off the side of a mountain. I was surprisingly calm. Rick was furious at every hotel.com employee and every robotic voice on any GPS app. Emmy was just scared $h!tless as she clutched the car's sissy bar fearing our impending doom.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7HfDdDvIlKVSH8G0aYmY3hdo-B7p_sSAdc17hoYVmQDicEZdpG6XcSDBB_PRM3IS1miBUrObdbQwis9mUfk-p0m9A6ENT1HA8kEReSqNFmHmtx5ardh5n9mUe6E7e2AtDP9K0Zi5UEYwe0EW-kb0V1kxGPeZF0EQ4dekFsrF3Wv2zkeXQ3uM3Mrd1w/s4032/IMG_4781.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7HfDdDvIlKVSH8G0aYmY3hdo-B7p_sSAdc17hoYVmQDicEZdpG6XcSDBB_PRM3IS1miBUrObdbQwis9mUfk-p0m9A6ENT1HA8kEReSqNFmHmtx5ardh5n9mUe6E7e2AtDP9K0Zi5UEYwe0EW-kb0V1kxGPeZF0EQ4dekFsrF3Wv2zkeXQ3uM3Mrd1w/w300-h400/IMG_4781.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>By luck and diligence we ended up at the correct hotel in a beautiful small town with a valet who would park our car for us, a car we had no desire to get into again until we had to leave and return it to the car rental office at the airport in Rome.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7PklSe82GtQRqQwrp58K9NCwwcxDcegO6XFtgR8ZlUOwHY_j9VzbBvE5ooBLItg4p0Jllwj44-3KWXhxBL1-Qdci4DtViwRNGrCy6OGZCfOfxZzZMDgpVPY6sgu94ppTE5LK56Zl5YgZyE0uVfBgIGE29RLDbuFqiJWC3eYC7sn_mK-QrpFWZWsfww/s4032/IMG_4813.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7PklSe82GtQRqQwrp58K9NCwwcxDcegO6XFtgR8ZlUOwHY_j9VzbBvE5ooBLItg4p0Jllwj44-3KWXhxBL1-Qdci4DtViwRNGrCy6OGZCfOfxZzZMDgpVPY6sgu94ppTE5LK56Zl5YgZyE0uVfBgIGE29RLDbuFqiJWC3eYC7sn_mK-QrpFWZWsfww/w300-h400/IMG_4813.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The hotel is beautiful.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPsgwC6A6ct-OEglSbkh2kOYQ7zWr2hEGk9_bBnKAO35-ui93L9QzP8QxCozMnMx3oKzAoSMis3uA6J98C75KGy1cGAWMy9dl-psyiTJMn1NizF13o5sItqRf84opahgdUCv8nA0YizZ7RdCQKqT_GxG0RXuF65f9hFvRx4XPvmQ4Tm4dypbzQrczVVg/s4032/IMG_4792.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPsgwC6A6ct-OEglSbkh2kOYQ7zWr2hEGk9_bBnKAO35-ui93L9QzP8QxCozMnMx3oKzAoSMis3uA6J98C75KGy1cGAWMy9dl-psyiTJMn1NizF13o5sItqRf84opahgdUCv8nA0YizZ7RdCQKqT_GxG0RXuF65f9hFvRx4XPvmQ4Tm4dypbzQrczVVg/w300-h400/IMG_4792.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The views from our room are spectacular.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNRzQevtiBzzxh5IH5E0I2QzlmFT_27ELD3A8YBXUH0WeZM4U-nHHMK5sD-8Sznk-LfmGMdDXlhsJ6whoXz9XcFkJ-hxf7G9UcYiLhnVrSDlOAMyW9kcrpTV_ZNvYcO60pbSxPj3RxOwHVtMwTeAOVlWPeLBwXU_F9SlsLqsEgVHAatAh1FWuCLU0vA/s4032/IMG_4795.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNRzQevtiBzzxh5IH5E0I2QzlmFT_27ELD3A8YBXUH0WeZM4U-nHHMK5sD-8Sznk-LfmGMdDXlhsJ6whoXz9XcFkJ-hxf7G9UcYiLhnVrSDlOAMyW9kcrpTV_ZNvYcO60pbSxPj3RxOwHVtMwTeAOVlWPeLBwXU_F9SlsLqsEgVHAatAh1FWuCLU0vA/w300-h400/IMG_4795.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick found a place to relax.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1YOPExs9Lx8wKlwffckHDAM_Z_UejRi8nho5wrwmZXfurfuiMifs9HlHyypbZkfHhvH0w0UoM4vY9cUQNYUKFrMjT2oVIjlFYhPCd3ryd2nPiLWP3la_pja6Xt4beOzxfyBlNcOhqiTZEbj72WjdRY6bF5VADI3k2VA_WIsyaaSl49fD9ei95CNoGA/s4032/IMG_4808.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1YOPExs9Lx8wKlwffckHDAM_Z_UejRi8nho5wrwmZXfurfuiMifs9HlHyypbZkfHhvH0w0UoM4vY9cUQNYUKFrMjT2oVIjlFYhPCd3ryd2nPiLWP3la_pja6Xt4beOzxfyBlNcOhqiTZEbj72WjdRY6bF5VADI3k2VA_WIsyaaSl49fD9ei95CNoGA/w400-h300/IMG_4808.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The dinner that night at the hotel was pretentious and indulgent but amusing. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xlJXNjEXph0us0HuulYAHSdzJWCNd3MRbMpaPACY1W6rvH2m15tpU_Fiq_CVskJ2yMA5sQ7McExuqAhGVnmdWpc9piqPAKcdsa69C0uTlW8PJ3nl7jJ7_HKuyhPIP2fhrgWUUUvJkWJbcYwZscjBrTvYWP1jWYQ3iqd0jsj7ttZPdSdezkJOGNjAiQ/s4032/IMG_4802.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xlJXNjEXph0us0HuulYAHSdzJWCNd3MRbMpaPACY1W6rvH2m15tpU_Fiq_CVskJ2yMA5sQ7McExuqAhGVnmdWpc9piqPAKcdsa69C0uTlW8PJ3nl7jJ7_HKuyhPIP2fhrgWUUUvJkWJbcYwZscjBrTvYWP1jWYQ3iqd0jsj7ttZPdSdezkJOGNjAiQ/w400-h300/IMG_4802.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We are just relieved that by the grace of god and masses of irreverent swear words somehow we managed to get here. <p></p><p><br /></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-89352515348455866662022-05-21T16:51:00.003-05:002022-05-22T02:49:21.099-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - OUR LAST FULL DAY IN PARADISE<p> <span style="color: #3d85c6;">THE DAY I PLAYED CHAUFFEUR</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsoSzIGrEh8M8BV5l_GqnQqgI13p--aduqLiF8icNwozDjDhJDArEwJt6aAecaAH2DFyVPU_pRbgXH9be-MityHSHcxqIOZ_fuDtk7XDArV6uHUW2rG2mqJJIjr33Tl5W5J6UBT0C4fqUrmskASN5NVVrih5EKJsX8imhkO4i3_oq9AeeL162NSeyr3g/s4032/IMG_4704.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsoSzIGrEh8M8BV5l_GqnQqgI13p--aduqLiF8icNwozDjDhJDArEwJt6aAecaAH2DFyVPU_pRbgXH9be-MityHSHcxqIOZ_fuDtk7XDArV6uHUW2rG2mqJJIjr33Tl5W5J6UBT0C4fqUrmskASN5NVVrih5EKJsX8imhkO4i3_oq9AeeL162NSeyr3g/w300-h400/IMG_4704.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I felt lucky that on our last full day in Armena I had a full schedule to take my mind off of the inevitable. When I did the first post for this trip, when it was a trip of anticipation, I filled the page with the joy of planning; that part of the trip that takes place before you hand over that first boarding pass at the airport checkin counter. Having packed our bags for previous trips too numerous to mention I had become familiar with the other half of that travel equation: saying good-bye. At some point I knew we'd be returning the keys for Il Lecco back into Stefania's hands. That's why filling today with repacking bags, going through the frig and discarding the remains of foods we had over purchased and carting Emmy around to the final things that had been on her list way back when Armena was still a thrill in the pit of her stomach, took my mind off of the this day being more of an arrivederci than a hello. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iFlsjTn6j7smFT5uu4n5DSbvOP-qUoMxCMJeLhv_YdCqVRi9lfb8kBy7qkJqMSmaP2UnHUHN7hpQaAl7qsunrDKGBmJ2gSxoQYNvVwv2A-aNPAz_1eYjFXW4MDg_07-1NTK_dLycJFH7PvUvalj9I_6GDqQhnXfQKzrI6umuKwMirty6eVVFquxEHQ/s4032/IMG_3805.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iFlsjTn6j7smFT5uu4n5DSbvOP-qUoMxCMJeLhv_YdCqVRi9lfb8kBy7qkJqMSmaP2UnHUHN7hpQaAl7qsunrDKGBmJ2gSxoQYNvVwv2A-aNPAz_1eYjFXW4MDg_07-1NTK_dLycJFH7PvUvalj9I_6GDqQhnXfQKzrI6umuKwMirty6eVVFquxEHQ/w300-h400/IMG_3805.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After some intermittent packing I donned my chauffeur's hat and took Emmy on her first appointment, a trip to the nail salon. I don't get the whole thing of painting parts of your body. The only thing I want done with my hands is to apply a magic cream to clear up those age spots that have been multiplying like ants on sugar. Off we went with the instructions that the salon was right next to the pharmacy and that the appointment was scheduled for 12:30. That was all the information we were given. There are two things immediately wrong with this. One, there are several pharmacies in Buonconvento. Two, everything closes at one and doesn't reopen until four. Oh, and there was a third thing: neither of us had the name of the salon, the salon's exact address nor a GPS working phone to find this place. Right off the bat we picked the wrong pharmacy. Emmy went in and tried to persuade the woman behind the counter to do her nails but that woman wasn't going to have anything to do with it. Buonconvento isn't a big metropolis. Here's where my mistake came in. I thought the next pharmacy was only a block or so away. I persuaded Emmy to leave the car where it was and walk to the next pharmacy. It was more than a block. It was hot and it was now approaching the one o'clock closing time. I should have known better. We got there as the town church bell chimed one. Luckily it was the right salon and she got in. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimetIT30x9L6fTrA45ynabeDHna2R7u5plzfubOlqxBm_hEUj92OukfaKCbwFErS0yU_W17RtbnDefzNK-ugOE-GOZlxeJa3VmNB4fjtxswEfJ1mJvwiIxbR3mtj4lqXQVbSmT4yVaYFD488u0-Lblaan-UdsbkRdRUd-2MYsV0yscQ6KVP-lSSkvCw/s4032/IMG_4717.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimetIT30x9L6fTrA45ynabeDHna2R7u5plzfubOlqxBm_hEUj92OukfaKCbwFErS0yU_W17RtbnDefzNK-ugOE-GOZlxeJa3VmNB4fjtxswEfJ1mJvwiIxbR3mtj4lqXQVbSmT4yVaYFD488u0-Lblaan-UdsbkRdRUd-2MYsV0yscQ6KVP-lSSkvCw/w300-h400/IMG_4717.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy had admired Stefania's nails and wanted to copy the same pattern on hers. This does not come cheap and it was going to be done on a girl whose next activity was going to be horseback riding. Does anyone else see an accident in the making? I would now have to find a way to spend an hour and half in a town with nothing open while she sat in air-conditioning her hands pampered and wrapped in cotton balls while a manicurist gushed about how lovely her hands were. In the end I must admit they did turn out remarkably well.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidU-IRVi6zXbU7P92vzUxeLSB8XEEtxXkY4eIjl3Qo9wH0yU4GsvgyV_5Ulp9QeVam9GzNLdd0LMsD2AwLBZhnJUj2d4L4gjTf93r7aWRrSTr5XNx9yPS71RZFTab8zktWbWPKR-mlV8jNRX8JGScodiEaNwGyPAv4XXFGwuo9e_LWvmCWw9FDkAiRDw/s4032/IMG_4028.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidU-IRVi6zXbU7P92vzUxeLSB8XEEtxXkY4eIjl3Qo9wH0yU4GsvgyV_5Ulp9QeVam9GzNLdd0LMsD2AwLBZhnJUj2d4L4gjTf93r7aWRrSTr5XNx9yPS71RZFTab8zktWbWPKR-mlV8jNRX8JGScodiEaNwGyPAv4XXFGwuo9e_LWvmCWw9FDkAiRDw/w300-h400/IMG_4028.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>When we returned we barely had an hour before we'd have to take off again for the stables and her horseback riding. This turned out to really be her day. I had snuck off earlier in the day and picked up her early birthday gift, a beautiful bag from Pianigiani, a leather shop in Buonconvento selling the most beautiful leather goods. She had coveted this bag the minute we saw it on the first day we arrived at the farm and gone into Buonconvento to look around. They had on display smaller bags and clutches in this rich aubergine color but not a bag like the one she wanted.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlywtoldSyjFNMAdWbuBa0KMsq8tPnPmvfW_PPzZo1APjRmTHd3zyytsBXoymSI0ZB5pNDjYsMEgz0q8sD4xh_SbqP7Clpw7Vhpq1CK7L4f_PWykyGBWO0RdOr2xQHNj92x1qdnVG_wa28qPJ7gVuuL4tsWVp9r0HxrBUB-uiP9dquuN-PcOgVSzAmaA/s4032/IMG_4765.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlywtoldSyjFNMAdWbuBa0KMsq8tPnPmvfW_PPzZo1APjRmTHd3zyytsBXoymSI0ZB5pNDjYsMEgz0q8sD4xh_SbqP7Clpw7Vhpq1CK7L4f_PWykyGBWO0RdOr2xQHNj92x1qdnVG_wa28qPJ7gVuuL4tsWVp9r0HxrBUB-uiP9dquuN-PcOgVSzAmaA/w300-h400/IMG_4765.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>If she wanted one in that color they would have to make one and they weren't sure they could get it done before we left. The following day I went back to talk to the sister of the leather designer and we worked it out that they would have it done by the Friday before we were to leave. Today on our return Rick laid it out for her along with a leather passport cover and a wallet both matching the bag. We now had Emmy bagged and nailed and she loved it.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-0xn7LVqN4KKq5A6CSmXWOKpFDyrJbOpTqvKxRjIDOQXfn7psw96l_v7EqblFvjz_3A_PAJgNZKs3Brt8maOe4uu_63gDtUx_BRI6L_MlV9oFE86YOurN2Ll67DoFWq9bVB2Vt10_fHGFeY-spXW8PRnF-zOwwlplw3CzfEh-Ju7NIDVWiBetcTelA/s4032/IMG_4729.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-0xn7LVqN4KKq5A6CSmXWOKpFDyrJbOpTqvKxRjIDOQXfn7psw96l_v7EqblFvjz_3A_PAJgNZKs3Brt8maOe4uu_63gDtUx_BRI6L_MlV9oFE86YOurN2Ll67DoFWq9bVB2Vt10_fHGFeY-spXW8PRnF-zOwwlplw3CzfEh-Ju7NIDVWiBetcTelA/w300-h400/IMG_4729.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It wasn't but minutes later Stafania arrived with a gift for her as well. It might have been Rick's birthday trip but Emmy didn't do so badly either.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzow3bhZIZyTkXG92QtImiZjc1Sh2gnC8MUufzip6Toh2HRzWa9apMqrUHv1bSym0W_ufIIyvjTqGfyCWHt-OOi2DOtSHSyd_Xf9X-FXNVTbjwO66WPD6CezQObbkqh9ARS2fhFBMo3k6aeG7AIDmL7PwLGdMNu9FpM3PvzSrhuxktg2gQWkD_lBYjTA/s4032/IMG_4719.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzow3bhZIZyTkXG92QtImiZjc1Sh2gnC8MUufzip6Toh2HRzWa9apMqrUHv1bSym0W_ufIIyvjTqGfyCWHt-OOi2DOtSHSyd_Xf9X-FXNVTbjwO66WPD6CezQObbkqh9ARS2fhFBMo3k6aeG7AIDmL7PwLGdMNu9FpM3PvzSrhuxktg2gQWkD_lBYjTA/w300-h400/IMG_4719.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Horseback riding has been one of her passions since she was a little girl. When we had a country house Emmy and a group of girl friends who all belonged to a riding stable where at least once a week they learned equestrian riding skills all the way from dressage to mucking the stalls. Getting on a horse and galloping through the Tuscan landscape was where she was the most confident and happy. What father could deny his child that pleasure?<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzeMngc1qEdZHfcPDoDPbExIH_-JVYs5AhGjYzCkymiTIDY6Q_ThDflZFMQG7dyfalBPaKAe2dmWk4UEUUapSfuLcpF-6mbM80nG11aK-fttLZjZrkirP9WMaYRZHj-k3ed_sVH7rsXcrxXS-DAR-8HQNV21QN8bigrL1VYJkhxN4ZNHrQeY8ZF4NXg/s4032/IMG_4738.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzeMngc1qEdZHfcPDoDPbExIH_-JVYs5AhGjYzCkymiTIDY6Q_ThDflZFMQG7dyfalBPaKAe2dmWk4UEUUapSfuLcpF-6mbM80nG11aK-fttLZjZrkirP9WMaYRZHj-k3ed_sVH7rsXcrxXS-DAR-8HQNV21QN8bigrL1VYJkhxN4ZNHrQeY8ZF4NXg/w400-h300/IMG_4738.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>That night we dined on whatever we could pull from the frig that hadn't molded or was something we could no longer identify as food. Alessandro turned on the pool lights for us on our last night. It was the first time this season he had turned them on. It was beautiful.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-63962773322767737872022-05-20T15:20:00.002-05:002022-05-21T02:32:06.509-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - CERAMICS, DESIRE AND FAMILY<p> <span style="color: #e06666;">WHEN SOMETHING LOOKS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE IT PROBABLY IS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJAwB6hNlP_Omm2T3ei1ea4ms5TNUxZrXfB8kWJ1JAwgoP7XTuvmg80x-QG9wuH6S3bStvwZjSjMdzoSgZ636lOIkIDNbo1L8K4lpDupxXEnU-Fuh1lkYKkmr9L2Vs8LISvcxchwFvVi4iNIoLLNyNMI-9cThKNfSVeVlIACIVK5ve01zNeKBqNLVRw/s4032/IMG_4523.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJAwB6hNlP_Omm2T3ei1ea4ms5TNUxZrXfB8kWJ1JAwgoP7XTuvmg80x-QG9wuH6S3bStvwZjSjMdzoSgZ636lOIkIDNbo1L8K4lpDupxXEnU-Fuh1lkYKkmr9L2Vs8LISvcxchwFvVi4iNIoLLNyNMI-9cThKNfSVeVlIACIVK5ve01zNeKBqNLVRw/w300-h400/IMG_4523.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We had promised to return on Friday to pay for the ceramics we had selected on Wednesday. I got a little nervous about time since Friday would be our last full day in Armena and there would be a lot of additional last minute errands and packing to do. You can bet that after two weeks in one place there are going to be things that have somehow disappeared causing a minor panic until they show up in the most unexpected places. We still can't find the coffee press we bought back on one of the first days we were here. With that kind of stress building in my head I decided it would be better to go today to pay for the plates, bowls and little gifts we had picked out and work out the shipping arrangements. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT3Yu3dDptqKFVjmS55C8ujZXGsh_CtCoFkDKyyq1FbXtdx_l8pplo7LiznmvxdoQH7jrB1exz8waIWmTGxb_7bmlgM6LM7mDPEeXaX1icRodC-COwLqklWHpCucdGuDC19rF6APJRBGX_-Ix6aa7TPSLg95lsXzYTx_gfz_VACQLve5A0QB6_JcuL6A/s4032/IMG_4535.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT3Yu3dDptqKFVjmS55C8ujZXGsh_CtCoFkDKyyq1FbXtdx_l8pplo7LiznmvxdoQH7jrB1exz8waIWmTGxb_7bmlgM6LM7mDPEeXaX1icRodC-COwLqklWHpCucdGuDC19rF6APJRBGX_-Ix6aa7TPSLg95lsXzYTx_gfz_VACQLve5A0QB6_JcuL6A/w400-h300/IMG_4535.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We had gone through this years ago but I had forgotten about the issues of shipping from Europe to the United States. It's a nightmare. Spoiler alert, anyone who thought they might be getting a beautiful serving platter or set of nesting bowls as a gift from Italy is going to be very disappointed. Those fifteen euro platters and five euro bowls that seemed so cheap became scarily expensive when the shipping bill was finally calculated. Those bargain items amassed a total four hundred in additional euros to get to the United States.. I had gone on the errand to settle up and that left me to make the final decision on whether to ship or not to ship. Well, those cheap but beautiful dishes are still on the shelf where we first found them waiting for someone else to pick them up at a bargain price sans shipping.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2QFZ5ukAUeLdOCeNo8ztd1wb1NxXclT48MfI6db70iARrWhP0INOn3n2TGg0sJr1wvojEmPNyPDkxh1ApK7cloYFpsbRUB6tFb5I-X0dBiCGBDxU3uRWZM9RrAV6-Do06JLJ0MvmNfFzvjhmIc27wdWy5x8Wv1_dgdZ9yfaBk--eEm6cn8axSVuC4g/s4032/IMG_4705.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2QFZ5ukAUeLdOCeNo8ztd1wb1NxXclT48MfI6db70iARrWhP0INOn3n2TGg0sJr1wvojEmPNyPDkxh1ApK7cloYFpsbRUB6tFb5I-X0dBiCGBDxU3uRWZM9RrAV6-Do06JLJ0MvmNfFzvjhmIc27wdWy5x8Wv1_dgdZ9yfaBk--eEm6cn8axSVuC4g/w300-h400/IMG_4705.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Today was supposed to be another leisurely day and Emmy decided to take advantage of that by staying by the pool sipping limonada and plunging into the pool's refreshing blue waters when the heat became to much. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rYtuVzqF68z4Fw9uElf_59sZDDrWtnD4jaNUgfZ8yhDyMCT14PCWlfFLpziDX6qJ5-XYT-PrFvWDy0fd6dIRB0JwAKJVoFO4CmOprLBLFhpkfNn7vTnfSNBxCaccVyFKvy32prfpiYkd06jyFt31D2c1r21-pEiqRmdQPUdqtrme-MGCDSvRIaK3tw/s4032/IMG_4621.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rYtuVzqF68z4Fw9uElf_59sZDDrWtnD4jaNUgfZ8yhDyMCT14PCWlfFLpziDX6qJ5-XYT-PrFvWDy0fd6dIRB0JwAKJVoFO4CmOprLBLFhpkfNn7vTnfSNBxCaccVyFKvy32prfpiYkd06jyFt31D2c1r21-pEiqRmdQPUdqtrme-MGCDSvRIaK3tw/w300-h400/IMG_4621.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick and I decided on lunch in Montalcino. In lieu of the dishes he decided to add to his linen napkin collection from a store we bought from on every former trip we had taken to Montalcino.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5bTYrgdie57ngNFoHgNH_7Q1y7SiTa5uj-d-hkyLjIVQrJErZ3rlEikkdanF9-A0nkd6DrQ_JYVgKswQWujhLCVzzT48ULIHH-7gL5jx2tmywYCnWbvC1x54-k8dcSJapqBcA5XQtIpu4sX8ntZ4k9Va1du4b4EjP5K_xFrEpIYEMm2-UxaBxIZQsw/s4032/IMG_4624.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5bTYrgdie57ngNFoHgNH_7Q1y7SiTa5uj-d-hkyLjIVQrJErZ3rlEikkdanF9-A0nkd6DrQ_JYVgKswQWujhLCVzzT48ULIHH-7gL5jx2tmywYCnWbvC1x54-k8dcSJapqBcA5XQtIpu4sX8ntZ4k9Va1du4b4EjP5K_xFrEpIYEMm2-UxaBxIZQsw/w300-h400/IMG_4624.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We were such regulars that the store's owner recognized us when we walked in. These dishtowels could easily slip into our luggage avoiding any serious shipping charges. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA4_pQkOMcy4RTnA3usxJ_EYFwzitLH-23dndDlcPDIOUMMuZWRmT6PXYwgDKapyNu1QUeHeQ4MA4-yzIOyeUmX1xONn7QSZ_tW7e4XDx6PTRd04dHlfps1TSnjuGICMrxNFjN_pXL-Xw2n5RrPNN4gIrVSzOV9zCxmQNjPNDRSMKwUpVh4_Q8K5GB1A/s4032/IMG_4615.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA4_pQkOMcy4RTnA3usxJ_EYFwzitLH-23dndDlcPDIOUMMuZWRmT6PXYwgDKapyNu1QUeHeQ4MA4-yzIOyeUmX1xONn7QSZ_tW7e4XDx6PTRd04dHlfps1TSnjuGICMrxNFjN_pXL-Xw2n5RrPNN4gIrVSzOV9zCxmQNjPNDRSMKwUpVh4_Q8K5GB1A/w300-h400/IMG_4615.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After asking the owner of the linen store for a lunching recommendation we decided on the Grotto del Brunello, a little restaurant on one of Montalcino's steeply inclining streets.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCyOqCXCaoGTNpC2igQlZBqv3vErRsMi6Wr_nJv0Nm5rf430TKGa5AHTtUYgD3SvphZD7rxzA_LNMJ9cxiIhHyg5pQN--cTPe7zgpHLeKpcw0JhnMndZo4colGqMLrjpV85Zqf1hG97Rjq0JIPCTn6jzKxVY1h52O2-ESMML9AmYNQvRNiOddVRcyFg/s4032/IMG_4610.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCyOqCXCaoGTNpC2igQlZBqv3vErRsMi6Wr_nJv0Nm5rf430TKGa5AHTtUYgD3SvphZD7rxzA_LNMJ9cxiIhHyg5pQN--cTPe7zgpHLeKpcw0JhnMndZo4colGqMLrjpV85Zqf1hG97Rjq0JIPCTn6jzKxVY1h52O2-ESMML9AmYNQvRNiOddVRcyFg/w300-h400/IMG_4610.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The outside tables were perfect for a warm day in spring and eating al fresco.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXWe-Xw4G_iXGhEJm5YdujCmm48y8h6_01vU8w5xwLb12-uz_IbhZ4m2-IKNF1EPyjbsUIClcZuwmvu75b_GnYMnI5cz3iP9JgR435tFYQCFGFRqmzvg83sQp1EdDLRpHwoUDtXctpOUzuZ2KVerk3BDFrvrvmsM-Ov4fhFRRZIF3Hq2DM8GcCDB9Qg/s4032/IMG_4613.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXWe-Xw4G_iXGhEJm5YdujCmm48y8h6_01vU8w5xwLb12-uz_IbhZ4m2-IKNF1EPyjbsUIClcZuwmvu75b_GnYMnI5cz3iP9JgR435tFYQCFGFRqmzvg83sQp1EdDLRpHwoUDtXctpOUzuZ2KVerk3BDFrvrvmsM-Ov4fhFRRZIF3Hq2DM8GcCDB9Qg/w300-h400/IMG_4613.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We had finally come to the end of our pasta tolerance and both of us decided on salads for lunch. Rick's was a nicoise <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGPri9_SRSroWnquVP28Z9_9n1wEVl0K47P-XId2TkPn4k7ZzxIbIIUshujCMImikexSWdVZ_v1DXd3bsJHa9v9VtuB-g8gUaoL3FyTNUcDhToxjSfUncdmkoSPzbFWzZA-ygrC8TtX0vcxQLbh1QAN6DAzCox2A60P34NENEBtl_IOCLDl_fF3T7qw/s4032/IMG_4614.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGPri9_SRSroWnquVP28Z9_9n1wEVl0K47P-XId2TkPn4k7ZzxIbIIUshujCMImikexSWdVZ_v1DXd3bsJHa9v9VtuB-g8gUaoL3FyTNUcDhToxjSfUncdmkoSPzbFWzZA-ygrC8TtX0vcxQLbh1QAN6DAzCox2A60P34NENEBtl_IOCLDl_fF3T7qw/w300-h400/IMG_4614.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I went for a more Italian concoction with Gorgonzola, pear and walnut<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxaLGTRyrmFnawUUPOV6_G3nxiNgGm9c1wkm2HfoWIScSAPM9eeHT2XVvNoCO48urFifZ5LCfmRAabE35_gYIB0br8mHcG0yP_7T74KdVQ4oACOL-cf0DEkak6IaAYcl1V7MfCxDFFTTGhWE48ABJ_yeeezu9IbfAYsoX8HRou2pmrLYAgoZu1ujNsA/s4032/IMG_4611.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxaLGTRyrmFnawUUPOV6_G3nxiNgGm9c1wkm2HfoWIScSAPM9eeHT2XVvNoCO48urFifZ5LCfmRAabE35_gYIB0br8mHcG0yP_7T74KdVQ4oACOL-cf0DEkak6IaAYcl1V7MfCxDFFTTGhWE48ABJ_yeeezu9IbfAYsoX8HRou2pmrLYAgoZu1ujNsA/w300-h400/IMG_4611.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick chose to stay seated at the table with a glass of wine while I went off to photograph. Lunch had lasted just long enough for the shops to reopen at three. This was really the first time this trip that I had time to do a little exploring in Montalcino. Many of the shops that I remembered were gone but a small selection of antique shops had opened in spaces that were vacant during the pandemic. Remembering Eric and Laura's story of wanting to return to San Quirico to find a painting they passed on several years ago I fell into that same pit of desire when I threw caution to the wind and walked into one of those dangerous antique stores.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJunfXJT7ZjEJw5dayACxOkhExN3Cc_WEV2GH_GC6U8ceIGrg5-DVpwbYs5mkkKoPt7cK04j56bJxjGgSNhGRWxrcyIPC6CE3Q02wQ7-xJtIsx86L9Dc4PG8zDEUf2sfJBJ8K2RRBLPZ5gk6mLzDR_wGihZvk9MK7n2cmHkZIgfJBMa4syhH83zBG_CA/s2962/IMG_PAINTING%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2962" data-original-width="2567" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJunfXJT7ZjEJw5dayACxOkhExN3Cc_WEV2GH_GC6U8ceIGrg5-DVpwbYs5mkkKoPt7cK04j56bJxjGgSNhGRWxrcyIPC6CE3Q02wQ7-xJtIsx86L9Dc4PG8zDEUf2sfJBJ8K2RRBLPZ5gk6mLzDR_wGihZvk9MK7n2cmHkZIgfJBMa4syhH83zBG_CA/w346-h400/IMG_PAINTING%20copy.jpg" width="346" /></a></div>On one of our first visits to the area we discovered an antique store in Montalcino long gone now. There we found a painting we both fell in love with. We bought the painting and it is one of our most cherished pieces for what it represents and the memory it holds every time we look at it.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDca_4WiTHMf0i6_adP9xyfDiX30w7l2gJzYalRaA9KSvIAESqH2bsdEGEHkQWGXG1pQ00LG-80H1B_YLBw9FgfvfcjDxERmnxW7LgIUF4IjnhSC1Fq8_Bod7H83rVjfVZUUaXoopZWB6im_8DyrP4Ag0r_lVHKej71uHvIlQs2Brqf3ffzBoa95tIg/s4032/IMG_4633.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDca_4WiTHMf0i6_adP9xyfDiX30w7l2gJzYalRaA9KSvIAESqH2bsdEGEHkQWGXG1pQ00LG-80H1B_YLBw9FgfvfcjDxERmnxW7LgIUF4IjnhSC1Fq8_Bod7H83rVjfVZUUaXoopZWB6im_8DyrP4Ag0r_lVHKej71uHvIlQs2Brqf3ffzBoa95tIg/w400-h300/IMG_4633.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>My unexpected object of desire was hanging cock-eyed on a back wall in the Officina Metropolitana, an antique shop near the end of the Via Mazzini. The style and theme were similar to the one we have but it was a winter scene where ours depicts summer. The piece was vastly overpriced but unlike Eric I took a picture and asked for a card so when I return I'll know where to go to find it. If it's still there then I'll know it needed to come home with me all along.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJ-qEdwoQR2qUnRpjGo5VHv0GpRclRTUlIBZDOx3S2qRJdWNJt3G1LvNQ1F2AZga-yYmXho1030P1bsRmICk8krHEy3cQfdBN85SZsdvpgShGXQM3Tl3nhkT0RfGMHhfXr02V7Q1l30DtnAr-AeQQtBYhcJWiuUEujxF-vZKMsqdoF1XNbPwv22d9Pg/s4032/IMG_4629.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJ-qEdwoQR2qUnRpjGo5VHv0GpRclRTUlIBZDOx3S2qRJdWNJt3G1LvNQ1F2AZga-yYmXho1030P1bsRmICk8krHEy3cQfdBN85SZsdvpgShGXQM3Tl3nhkT0RfGMHhfXr02V7Q1l30DtnAr-AeQQtBYhcJWiuUEujxF-vZKMsqdoF1XNbPwv22d9Pg/w300-h400/IMG_4629.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>A day in Montalcino wouldn't have been complete without a stop at "Why Not" and I didn't shy away from one more scoop of gelato.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrILoR1s-FJvUIVVnMUDZTRGBkLcEFkJ4Df0pVmqbmowvz1RxEjJib5R3Vcwi6nZmlN3-hR5ICu8NN7OiGuv83RQgc6KJRa86bs17-_upqR5xUOp6uzp5L4xUoI9rnqkPtJcOCt6HDsUXRxlS1T-60KagvTiKbtJsP6yVl0ZRjHdVjaV-GT3k2sQll3w/s4032/IMG_4675.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrILoR1s-FJvUIVVnMUDZTRGBkLcEFkJ4Df0pVmqbmowvz1RxEjJib5R3Vcwi6nZmlN3-hR5ICu8NN7OiGuv83RQgc6KJRa86bs17-_upqR5xUOp6uzp5L4xUoI9rnqkPtJcOCt6HDsUXRxlS1T-60KagvTiKbtJsP6yVl0ZRjHdVjaV-GT3k2sQll3w/w400-h300/IMG_4675.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>That evening was to be our last dinner shared with the Saraceis before leaving for the Amalfi coast.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb0X1KTIs_EWqW8CeSjn9dxmqFYk7Kw8xobPDJRaf2nOOmEbo69vuJUJ87IDNp23vjYMQFAHUpMBnh-h4uHomJX58JhrlYJDhD9cBqfrmkXNDqVWRaJgSCOdTVN0KsNBEvLYzkSdR1GhDWiF7SUN3emyUG4o-wDyvHw4ATVrL9peMmsA0Yq1u7WpOcwg/s2904/IMG_4685.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1980" data-original-width="2904" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb0X1KTIs_EWqW8CeSjn9dxmqFYk7Kw8xobPDJRaf2nOOmEbo69vuJUJ87IDNp23vjYMQFAHUpMBnh-h4uHomJX58JhrlYJDhD9cBqfrmkXNDqVWRaJgSCOdTVN0KsNBEvLYzkSdR1GhDWiF7SUN3emyUG4o-wDyvHw4ATVrL9peMmsA0Yq1u7WpOcwg/w400-h272/IMG_4685.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>All the Saracenis and Emmy, Rick and I would be at the table. We set up the table on the patio overlooking the pool.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4aSj8kqddrZ3RbHtA2E64a5G2tWmQAj-P2IlCwKrcbEEE6tywnt6IlAjjtJFUXcObU2MuMwJtzGJm8ljGwpoBnej6Jm3upZxMq5DUWumM9WqJlRgyKFBkuzGEpz-YmucYhCvitNAJ2Z6gGUZcn9Xi6VkMOKgtM9hYvbMd83PpQEkP97Qq3QFyVh7LCw/s4032/IMG_4680.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4aSj8kqddrZ3RbHtA2E64a5G2tWmQAj-P2IlCwKrcbEEE6tywnt6IlAjjtJFUXcObU2MuMwJtzGJm8ljGwpoBnej6Jm3upZxMq5DUWumM9WqJlRgyKFBkuzGEpz-YmucYhCvitNAJ2Z6gGUZcn9Xi6VkMOKgtM9hYvbMd83PpQEkP97Qq3QFyVh7LCw/w300-h400/IMG_4680.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It was requested that I repeat the watermelon salad from the night before. Giulio prepared the first course with pici his mom Stefania made. Stefania prepared chunks of marinated chicken and served it with a side of spinach. Alessandro bought the gelato. We mixed the generations much like we had done for the past 23 years. Starting out with our parents being the matriarchs and patriarchs and our children being wee.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN28pSmNtKUOOdAynqnEEQPYRFc0kYjwcXLqKCbzuVjTvrign7bseXSwc2IgqsGVeH9lR0EaxCBBtN6zOTAaygNggNTrRfGfGoDPebySIlibdU_2V_krMHvP_iqb-eSQn3Ss5xmKu9jvVSUUGz0tl1risK8N52Ma7aa4uFHOTdHfziiLcqepApUnFMtg/s4032/IMG_4684.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN28pSmNtKUOOdAynqnEEQPYRFc0kYjwcXLqKCbzuVjTvrign7bseXSwc2IgqsGVeH9lR0EaxCBBtN6zOTAaygNggNTrRfGfGoDPebySIlibdU_2V_krMHvP_iqb-eSQn3Ss5xmKu9jvVSUUGz0tl1risK8N52Ma7aa4uFHOTdHfziiLcqepApUnFMtg/w400-h300/IMG_4684.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Now we were the older generation and our children have become the young adults. Happiness is a table full of good food, a bottle of wine and an extended family filling our world with conversation and laughter. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5D9M36DDDbUgP1Ph5nPU1-Q9GiqdGUynjVBdHvoRgDVRlX-bljTipgMERsj3m2sFrPz1BcsbTIuVfqMqnkeh5yGYvMGJMs6sN0o8w-CfrtuAXvuinJ-0X4Wuojk-AOBIgfhQbJApaSkE-v8ENmyjOU6Zamto-TpDBxiQ-4HRkgu_dxkUsScS5j1yiw/s4032/IMG_4663.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5D9M36DDDbUgP1Ph5nPU1-Q9GiqdGUynjVBdHvoRgDVRlX-bljTipgMERsj3m2sFrPz1BcsbTIuVfqMqnkeh5yGYvMGJMs6sN0o8w-CfrtuAXvuinJ-0X4Wuojk-AOBIgfhQbJApaSkE-v8ENmyjOU6Zamto-TpDBxiQ-4HRkgu_dxkUsScS5j1yiw/w300-h400/IMG_4663.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-53318908082756886782022-05-19T12:02:00.059-05:002022-05-20T05:08:11.966-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - THE SHOPPING BUG FINAL HITS<p><span style="color: #990000;"> IN SEARCH OF THE PERFECT PLATTER</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvcmJOBe-1NAZeafon9-UiCDyaXFpsDul0c5DJkH3yh_5f6lpbZhVfgyPC8B9yvPMF2y4wJF6ZH6h2DFfWYG4sEecdzv7UVuVxdz1Uy8qYjX8VhC8bgm08nSXXd3RopACiF47hfq1mRNo9mOx_FfnK16v2gQaXyHtgvoHLEgZkDquHuGPgloweig_UA/s2919/IMG_9716%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2071" data-original-width="2919" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvcmJOBe-1NAZeafon9-UiCDyaXFpsDul0c5DJkH3yh_5f6lpbZhVfgyPC8B9yvPMF2y4wJF6ZH6h2DFfWYG4sEecdzv7UVuVxdz1Uy8qYjX8VhC8bgm08nSXXd3RopACiF47hfq1mRNo9mOx_FfnK16v2gQaXyHtgvoHLEgZkDquHuGPgloweig_UA/w400-h284/IMG_9716%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Shopping, our favorite travel activity, took a back seat on this trip until today. For today it was our one and only goal and we pursued it with a focused passion and committed purpose. It was the hunt for a partner to Grandma's ceramic platter of fifteen years before. The story gets told every time we visit Armena and to anyone willing to sit through our travel stories here it goes again. Back when my mom was turning eighty, or so we thought, we brought her and two of my sisters to Italy as a birthday celebration. My mom's sense of humor included the likes of putting fake fruit in our school lunch bags or donning a pair of overalls and blackening her teeth for a school party when we were young. Then once again she played a real trick on us. For the entire trip she kept declaring, "What is a farm girl like me doing in Italy"? She waited until we returned and were back in Wisconsin to let us know that she wasn't eighty on this trip only seventy-nine and we had better be planning something else come the next year of her actual eightieth. During the now non-milestone birthday trip she managed to score a significant amount of birthday presents. One was a beautiful oversized platter painted with lemons we found at a ceramic factory near one of the hill towns in the Tuscan part of our trip. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtA8CQ28okPj6sZW0jgJhBfluPOmWNZa2q0w65LG8tBbIuSeMxVuqjrRR1C3x8IFUVG1kdyLqo-9x_EDF4Mw7N-m3HffNVFacz93b7qJPLAByfB0ZXRgET0JkOertFamDgeZ3Rga_szmHSSljhzQufO9pSxYfRHTn_IlT4WzeIfu8u8P4j7yEeofU_A/s2640/IMG_4529%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1992" data-original-width="2640" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtA8CQ28okPj6sZW0jgJhBfluPOmWNZa2q0w65LG8tBbIuSeMxVuqjrRR1C3x8IFUVG1kdyLqo-9x_EDF4Mw7N-m3HffNVFacz93b7qJPLAByfB0ZXRgET0JkOertFamDgeZ3Rga_szmHSSljhzQufO9pSxYfRHTn_IlT4WzeIfu8u8P4j7yEeofU_A/w400-h301/IMG_4529%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>On subsequent trips to the farm I had tried to find this shop but was never successful. When my mother passed Rick inherited the platter. On this trip he really wanted to find another one similar to Grandma's with the fantasy of hosting summer dinner parties on our patio with a Tuscan theme. On previous trips we didn't have the same Google capabilities but on this trip by typing in ceramic shops near me we were able to locate the exact place where we had purchased my mom's platter.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVSdOoSb8jurLxfxDef0VaWOQYG__ZsQt-80czDbaSWae5FDkTNyPnMGMLf41wa4kIvWYhS26c0Cz9Yj-hUIwCw8ikf5H-HJXPRK8P_kEgxpACLJPFrcZ7NSilozLvrTZBH8msiarOvgy51Ukw0p3pXFieF9n6t8yiFCBrxwF1aZbLQwCwPp3AaQ6VA/s4032/IMG_4535.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVSdOoSb8jurLxfxDef0VaWOQYG__ZsQt-80czDbaSWae5FDkTNyPnMGMLf41wa4kIvWYhS26c0Cz9Yj-hUIwCw8ikf5H-HJXPRK8P_kEgxpACLJPFrcZ7NSilozLvrTZBH8msiarOvgy51Ukw0p3pXFieF9n6t8yiFCBrxwF1aZbLQwCwPp3AaQ6VA/w400-h300/IMG_4535.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We piled into the car and went on the hunt. The shops we had been looking for were in the equivalent of an American strip mall, a collection of four shops connected in one long odd building. We browsed from shop to shop finding some dinner plates at one shop, some gifts at another all simple and reasonable in price but when it came to the decoratively painted platters similar to my mother's the prices had jumped five times from the price I remembered paying for her not-eightieth birthday gift. We still did okay until it came time to pay. Italy's infrastructure isn't always the best. We hadn't put together the fact that all the stores had no lights on. We were to find out it wasn't due to trying to keep the heat of the day down just that the electricity was out. This meant no Internet and no way to pay with a credit card for all the pieces piled up on the counter. Fortunately, I guess, all the shops said they would hold our desired purchases. We said we'd return on Friday to settle up. Fingers crossed the electricity would be back on by then.<div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBjPlcJElXr3aLiAK5gcMN5yddMrJa-a-vVfUB7E_GIs1adUxLjKqDBpXiFOMXyB7-lTltvUDZL1RVjYaMZYev2T5bAOLQhdko-U4UkTdXlx-CLIXgIWMaRwpfgo1wyCJKSpfci06wPWAwzTti_SStfl1r3EusCJTykwF9-_beFxDyGBhMQ4pPIfzbQ/s4032/IMG_4553.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBjPlcJElXr3aLiAK5gcMN5yddMrJa-a-vVfUB7E_GIs1adUxLjKqDBpXiFOMXyB7-lTltvUDZL1RVjYaMZYev2T5bAOLQhdko-U4UkTdXlx-CLIXgIWMaRwpfgo1wyCJKSpfci06wPWAwzTti_SStfl1r3EusCJTykwF9-_beFxDyGBhMQ4pPIfzbQ/w400-h300/IMG_4553.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Bagno Vignoni was on the way back. We were now in search of lunch and figured we could find a restaurant there.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJO04TebiQtYs2ISdTlAdHc1MQ6Edr9CGt-o11B3dlupdZksf5nxtgkZub9fesCKWcJibgpt_43CklzEx9qsotKdenGRyd0msvy58CtB6dd_5vvzIJxAyvndEZIfT1cv15L3mhMcinnxB5A5PP03uIi3yuP_gdlyq1HGfdZIArgTpta2gTfi5Gtx5w4w/s4032/IMG_4537.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJO04TebiQtYs2ISdTlAdHc1MQ6Edr9CGt-o11B3dlupdZksf5nxtgkZub9fesCKWcJibgpt_43CklzEx9qsotKdenGRyd0msvy58CtB6dd_5vvzIJxAyvndEZIfT1cv15L3mhMcinnxB5A5PP03uIi3yuP_gdlyq1HGfdZIArgTpta2gTfi5Gtx5w4w/w300-h400/IMG_4537.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Our trip to the ceramic shops had loosened our wallets a bit more than it should have.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCHNN-fiurOPsebFmG46BhKBvXpLEz-1XgMXmErjFeMwJZKHbJn1hDVIuMzur2GR6TgJ0tkiK6rJFA1pV1AlztuXoZxCujkiKCcxRCJe-suy_JfxPd8LkITZIew8PWG6T26AotjqvEulGo0Y5dP9dr8m440LUc5vK2OiW7bqAg7zJTcyOCabnzdkC5Q/s4032/IMG_4564.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCHNN-fiurOPsebFmG46BhKBvXpLEz-1XgMXmErjFeMwJZKHbJn1hDVIuMzur2GR6TgJ0tkiK6rJFA1pV1AlztuXoZxCujkiKCcxRCJe-suy_JfxPd8LkITZIew8PWG6T26AotjqvEulGo0Y5dP9dr8m440LUc5vK2OiW7bqAg7zJTcyOCabnzdkC5Q/w300-h400/IMG_4564.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />We were now out to buy and there was very little that was going to stop us.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_YTesZl6gQGkfzGocIuygT5EO9kUDN4ioVhucC4nFEghA9nP9AJ-YBCHTQUQr85ip37uGtAedbfXjYajel-_btlhvDHlBzbcc_KmJmdWiAOZRb_slDCA8K05yqBEM5LUN99ThLA3aS4tu8hDb6kD7XLGOpL6MVvDBWoz0yycGGjT4wAG7gNJFoO5eQ/s4032/IMG_4536.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_YTesZl6gQGkfzGocIuygT5EO9kUDN4ioVhucC4nFEghA9nP9AJ-YBCHTQUQr85ip37uGtAedbfXjYajel-_btlhvDHlBzbcc_KmJmdWiAOZRb_slDCA8K05yqBEM5LUN99ThLA3aS4tu8hDb6kD7XLGOpL6MVvDBWoz0yycGGjT4wAG7gNJFoO5eQ/w300-h400/IMG_4536.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Lunch became a second thought as we discovered a beautiful tiny shop run by an infectiously hospitable elderly couple.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIWwLMvhN18dqH1iufsy8M7X5M2yZUCdmLuMGAo7o4v-ulxCYjBET1Q9gFwm23AdUI_iqg67tGVq4oQm4T50oylhX2-d2rc03QHuLDNlT7s7ELEI-eOTU2O9jHT-1sGN3chWux2-YDYUvm0pLzOnTHg2KfhWmVp0eftNU3oHUx6XgkcLDRYxAY-01xw/s4032/IMG_4597.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIWwLMvhN18dqH1iufsy8M7X5M2yZUCdmLuMGAo7o4v-ulxCYjBET1Q9gFwm23AdUI_iqg67tGVq4oQm4T50oylhX2-d2rc03QHuLDNlT7s7ELEI-eOTU2O9jHT-1sGN3chWux2-YDYUvm0pLzOnTHg2KfhWmVp0eftNU3oHUx6XgkcLDRYxAY-01xw/w300-h400/IMG_4597.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The ceramic pieces outside the door had us pushing inside to see what they had. On the wall was the exact platter Rick had been looking for. It was his birthday and not Emmy nor I were going to stop him.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLGHyxkEd8_THq4m08mCTj5Jol4293ZC11wiroVNShMwQnOzu12XAaGGPmfwAFbEj2oojIor1OtB_owPPYCJdWZv5bMzJ-bdrjVBp4O-ygRMGQXvheetx38hyGwM5N1xY6DUZuGKkyCWKjilFX5B-j2QxGZiOFkT2IwkXAQxLuwY2myn8zmBFZ6UbpWw/s4032/IMG_4541.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLGHyxkEd8_THq4m08mCTj5Jol4293ZC11wiroVNShMwQnOzu12XAaGGPmfwAFbEj2oojIor1OtB_owPPYCJdWZv5bMzJ-bdrjVBp4O-ygRMGQXvheetx38hyGwM5N1xY6DUZuGKkyCWKjilFX5B-j2QxGZiOFkT2IwkXAQxLuwY2myn8zmBFZ6UbpWw/w300-h400/IMG_4541.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Then we all discovered their jewelry. I'm going to have to get a longer forearm or start on the other wrist.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_98qvqe-jPBfBZTg2eU-9VBV94LjzPtXzJ9dNgMBJfW36zYo3fYkYsChG-_uGUPbpLmwwD6tdN3HhMHy-2OqeRBpvQsqZ6AjLpEZ_o76QEuQSMjIban3k-DHy2OqcP1s5z1eaEdLkKLEtDLM6yWC7DU8RkbRF8SuIuleYPXF8u7ypjSxPBQjN2RBpg/s2851/IMG_4542.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2851" data-original-width="2010" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_98qvqe-jPBfBZTg2eU-9VBV94LjzPtXzJ9dNgMBJfW36zYo3fYkYsChG-_uGUPbpLmwwD6tdN3HhMHy-2OqeRBpvQsqZ6AjLpEZ_o76QEuQSMjIban3k-DHy2OqcP1s5z1eaEdLkKLEtDLM6yWC7DU8RkbRF8SuIuleYPXF8u7ypjSxPBQjN2RBpg/w283-h400/IMG_4542.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>Even Rick got into the act. He started small but he's always been a bit timid when it comes to jewelry.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kpaa_J9NOhggSdaajRddhkMPXHnNpQoaePlGoh9i3_AHx0xlx2dvGexdaAbqgALfGWmM6ffuGMFpvI65LpEV1rSPH7mDeMdqPYUB7zVqMinQNv95cnoFazELu2PVCYaCihtoSAv3YT3tOZJmQxmNyYfLsuq6DpDvY8wZiQL7uYaUQvp2qKGvrrd44A/s4032/IMG_4549.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kpaa_J9NOhggSdaajRddhkMPXHnNpQoaePlGoh9i3_AHx0xlx2dvGexdaAbqgALfGWmM6ffuGMFpvI65LpEV1rSPH7mDeMdqPYUB7zVqMinQNv95cnoFazELu2PVCYaCihtoSAv3YT3tOZJmQxmNyYfLsuq6DpDvY8wZiQL7uYaUQvp2qKGvrrd44A/w300-h400/IMG_4549.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After our buying frenzy we settled on Osteria del Leone for lunch.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7QWXB5WWcxxEsDFkv_8-EiRJclk0VJaAEsDq3Lq7lW7m5MQ99AkGCVfhhqHr1uK9vU12aw6mKzNrb5NxWz9ubemysTHTgJteGy4Q-CAw5fKMJQr7_JLJCtTZZ4yU2KJf8PcwJkyDjpjZvXebafQXgt9DPZu3BaAgvAJxw8bkelopV-eGjGV-oTnDcQ/s4032/IMG_4543.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7QWXB5WWcxxEsDFkv_8-EiRJclk0VJaAEsDq3Lq7lW7m5MQ99AkGCVfhhqHr1uK9vU12aw6mKzNrb5NxWz9ubemysTHTgJteGy4Q-CAw5fKMJQr7_JLJCtTZZ4yU2KJf8PcwJkyDjpjZvXebafQXgt9DPZu3BaAgvAJxw8bkelopV-eGjGV-oTnDcQ/w300-h400/IMG_4543.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I'm beginning to feel a bit repetitive with our meals but this artichoke appetizer of crispy artichokes fried to a golden brown and served with a Gorgonzola fondue was damn good.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbtOHtH3mcFkS9X_XsGMYZCKazRjOD-NrxqaLIVVo5MRRjp4OobVZRZvVJdYheTJhBe5E8DQrD_yKQXz9GkDQT3n_-kxVOo4ligyNOfAek00TC688vnCDCKN3J5e8kxu-lOaIfFS9_nBN5UnWwwuot20ojEs8UcLcNbFka-IQ30vPTQAg7DpRBf0Vdag/s4032/IMG_4545.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbtOHtH3mcFkS9X_XsGMYZCKazRjOD-NrxqaLIVVo5MRRjp4OobVZRZvVJdYheTJhBe5E8DQrD_yKQXz9GkDQT3n_-kxVOo4ligyNOfAek00TC688vnCDCKN3J5e8kxu-lOaIfFS9_nBN5UnWwwuot20ojEs8UcLcNbFka-IQ30vPTQAg7DpRBf0Vdag/w300-h400/IMG_4545.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Fresh pici with duck<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCzunshi_ZWyXtQrdeSe7h9X9LcQt6C8t4RbE6gH2Who6n4ThFvmIXnyYwp_1i-7LhJ63OHYgiivROnx2jfEumT8KC6G5uRBqfjRD275APdaXPuZFhQvL9Pcybzj5y-j_eu7pUywZ_k4qdXRy3LHe_cbxiqmjWOpbR1TLo0gZrXLe-96yQbP_B5nKksQ/s4032/IMG_4544.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCzunshi_ZWyXtQrdeSe7h9X9LcQt6C8t4RbE6gH2Who6n4ThFvmIXnyYwp_1i-7LhJ63OHYgiivROnx2jfEumT8KC6G5uRBqfjRD275APdaXPuZFhQvL9Pcybzj5y-j_eu7pUywZ_k4qdXRy3LHe_cbxiqmjWOpbR1TLo0gZrXLe-96yQbP_B5nKksQ/w300-h400/IMG_4544.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>and a special tagliolini with a cream and bacon sauce finished off the meal for Rick and me.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl6_zu2bt2oGSnRtX-hz6XqgYSjHyYHyktLDVmjbDvbZGpGwD2btgTUs0YqTF4VuUArqtxN_ic3hMiildhyyyV5zaeRuAYt5VHXqdSOfyLr8zTl9jG1XHXmnkNFPMmAiaSwmgvN2tNcvaNav2ki6JbVyGwCOYnXn9WiZ0Ks2f2VwYqzCJdAdE7UGKZ0Q/s4032/IMG_4546.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl6_zu2bt2oGSnRtX-hz6XqgYSjHyYHyktLDVmjbDvbZGpGwD2btgTUs0YqTF4VuUArqtxN_ic3hMiildhyyyV5zaeRuAYt5VHXqdSOfyLr8zTl9jG1XHXmnkNFPMmAiaSwmgvN2tNcvaNav2ki6JbVyGwCOYnXn9WiZ0Ks2f2VwYqzCJdAdE7UGKZ0Q/w300-h400/IMG_4546.jpg" width="300" /></a></div> Emmy went for pork cheek with a red wine sauce on mashed potatoes - divine!<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVNm7eeWupnFirg2Fz4FXPCFOLut0IXOBNyaDO5giX_MMGypLjL7H5fqxanwIuhWZwqxKBi-eduvttae6odnO3wNbhleFTVz3cRoZiYcYKOv_t8FfLhS0CE-gK3rbBcA2B619ITk7UnqxGcmqw_QVmmb2HchRZRJ6uR1ej9CeQ5UOdGKYymwrn01rKTw/s4032/IMG_4281.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVNm7eeWupnFirg2Fz4FXPCFOLut0IXOBNyaDO5giX_MMGypLjL7H5fqxanwIuhWZwqxKBi-eduvttae6odnO3wNbhleFTVz3cRoZiYcYKOv_t8FfLhS0CE-gK3rbBcA2B619ITk7UnqxGcmqw_QVmmb2HchRZRJ6uR1ej9CeQ5UOdGKYymwrn01rKTw/w300-h400/IMG_4281.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We made it back to the pool with enough time to add to our blistering sunburns and then it was time to start the prep for dinner.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNzDLPngknQ5g-SgPAdgcpodh_1a_mpE49qgG2lqLelvEUQPsvDceklgPBgcYRfRqYrxwCfc8799j6ftV2AJsMyvAvh3TLV_skQjtQMIpVYHOSr2W1cGFwDORCYkgIT6na0RHJ1kkaf5a-3yI7XMLMo7Tfe_CYvwAZJ6yohfIYp_G6h2ubnLRI4mOag/s4032/IMG_4589.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNzDLPngknQ5g-SgPAdgcpodh_1a_mpE49qgG2lqLelvEUQPsvDceklgPBgcYRfRqYrxwCfc8799j6ftV2AJsMyvAvh3TLV_skQjtQMIpVYHOSr2W1cGFwDORCYkgIT6na0RHJ1kkaf5a-3yI7XMLMo7Tfe_CYvwAZJ6yohfIYp_G6h2ubnLRI4mOag/w300-h400/IMG_4589.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy was invited out with the younger crowd and we invited Stefania and Alessandro over for a dinner of leftovers: a kitchen sink frittata, watermelon salad, some liver pate and crostini and of course prosciutto and melon.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGk-AYL_iQ_wlpy8MlsxGFPKc3K1ZRoMVwUBNBaB1K5Yd6iYZU16h0PlfZvM1hEALQpXp9NSNmI_-jUsZaYEqixz48o0Xx3G2n51rby5cWQ2WiQ0cbeopeiFBbKPxehlcBbNM1Lwmi93Nn5OfIm2CKppNDy-v8aJ8g9m4MmBUt6yuvaLvoWaTOo2flQ/s4032/IMG_4594.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGk-AYL_iQ_wlpy8MlsxGFPKc3K1ZRoMVwUBNBaB1K5Yd6iYZU16h0PlfZvM1hEALQpXp9NSNmI_-jUsZaYEqixz48o0Xx3G2n51rby5cWQ2WiQ0cbeopeiFBbKPxehlcBbNM1Lwmi93Nn5OfIm2CKppNDy-v8aJ8g9m4MmBUt6yuvaLvoWaTOo2flQ/w300-h400/IMG_4594.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We were happy to be the hosts for a change and Alessandro and Stefania were delighted to be our guests.<p></p><p><br /></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-46613739433126330902022-05-18T12:19:00.003-05:002022-05-19T02:07:07.935-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 - THE WATERS<p><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> ITALY SPRING 2022 - SULFUR BATHS</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jQ9N_Yfntz9J_gAbeeKU-PIR2V5KgrniU9DL3wWmFpIKNR4v1k_TRjW4jk18FQeUPuZlAceP24oMjUC4HWnSKpypcVw2Zpoh6zYiPnB8En6aMgRuyuoDHEsyrHuMzVVN8EFf0__naWgwWyIMF2e09p2iRQu35d6G8oKbe1Yt02cjJRbZOSDLBiNX_g/s4032/IMG_4480.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jQ9N_Yfntz9J_gAbeeKU-PIR2V5KgrniU9DL3wWmFpIKNR4v1k_TRjW4jk18FQeUPuZlAceP24oMjUC4HWnSKpypcVw2Zpoh6zYiPnB8En6aMgRuyuoDHEsyrHuMzVVN8EFf0__naWgwWyIMF2e09p2iRQu35d6G8oKbe1Yt02cjJRbZOSDLBiNX_g/w300-h400/IMG_4480.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>When you look at it through the eyes of Google the hot springs of Tuscany can become an image of overwhelming desire. It was impossible for me to look at them online without wanting to put them at the top of my bucket list. After a bit of wrangling my family acquiesced and indulged my in going along for a trip to one of them. My first choice was the waters at Saturnia but when we looked at a map they were just shy of a two-hour one way and two-hours back trip. Stefania told us of another one only forty minutes away.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6Z6T_riIxwnpMy1DPMS1SEw7h6X66Av7gGUoq_aDM_RMZE8y5YjHrwwQn5P2dAKrRQWnIm8gbnuBqd2-_cxHiQSSOwMi44kS8H2EvyizAoo1Zn-tdVcno7SWrlqZVQrc_gccSRJigqsZK6p-dmWA2JzsCuJDp37DnVI4bgctpKmfDLPtSsU-zy3BpA/s4032/IMG_4476.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6Z6T_riIxwnpMy1DPMS1SEw7h6X66Av7gGUoq_aDM_RMZE8y5YjHrwwQn5P2dAKrRQWnIm8gbnuBqd2-_cxHiQSSOwMi44kS8H2EvyizAoo1Zn-tdVcno7SWrlqZVQrc_gccSRJigqsZK6p-dmWA2JzsCuJDp37DnVI4bgctpKmfDLPtSsU-zy3BpA/w300-h400/IMG_4476.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We decided that we'd go to Bagni San Filippo just a few kilometers beyond Bagno Vignoni. On several former visits we've gone to the Alder Spa in Bogno Vagnoni but this time decided to pass. The hot springs at Bagni San Filippo were free. The Alder at Bagni Vignoni was well beyond the high end of our budget this time around.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2Yp9unTFN2DYUkPr0_jtnD8g2jDc1gf90Qe9SIqxWjgXQD117a2NWygq9IHLQN8RjYia0TUdBFxdyjktbETUYeu16mIMb_n5c2RuR0FczgjRAs1bnPNyOjlB5U58FsQYtK4n32k_UqaVJdmLJtaqORi_7ULvZWMG0yzrbDjoYpwJVeUH0D4tF1VT2g/s4032/IMG_4474.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2Yp9unTFN2DYUkPr0_jtnD8g2jDc1gf90Qe9SIqxWjgXQD117a2NWygq9IHLQN8RjYia0TUdBFxdyjktbETUYeu16mIMb_n5c2RuR0FczgjRAs1bnPNyOjlB5U58FsQYtK4n32k_UqaVJdmLJtaqORi_7ULvZWMG0yzrbDjoYpwJVeUH0D4tF1VT2g/w300-h400/IMG_4474.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The waters of both supposedly have medicinal properties but in the pictures it's the romantic aspect that draws you in, charming waterfalls spilling from one pool to the next, bubbling waters foaming around lounging bathers. The appeal is gravitational. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzZlkoPBf_2A_iLlZ84W1K3j9PD3-fiyYwGcK3cBjk-DgovuH_iA0dehPdznvI8dF3hnqx0sHZufVjoeisg9KDmUHtJZmOucw51F4Q6voB4qIe9svKeOenlx2EGZ_z-7F9ZuCcGl2clvs2ZNrFzepcMdXQoNCrGCOYMKL6rcn3WLNeVC5HpacEAnrqQ/s4032/IMG_4464.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzZlkoPBf_2A_iLlZ84W1K3j9PD3-fiyYwGcK3cBjk-DgovuH_iA0dehPdznvI8dF3hnqx0sHZufVjoeisg9KDmUHtJZmOucw51F4Q6voB4qIe9svKeOenlx2EGZ_z-7F9ZuCcGl2clvs2ZNrFzepcMdXQoNCrGCOYMKL6rcn3WLNeVC5HpacEAnrqQ/w300-h400/IMG_4464.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We parked our car at the top of the hill just outside the entrance to the park. The springs themselves require a moderately precarious walk down through a wooded area. Even before we got out of the car we could sense that this might not be as idyllic as it appeared in print. One thing print cannot convey is smell. The reason for the milky blue color of the visually appealing water is the sulfur. I can still smell it right now.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiteP0nmR6OJewNP2qWKRentG_yjxi8gypVOSjnW8R_22vBF4kcPO7VC3HpK-gNofzFfUSue9YiVSlpzffWXK2jYeyVmazSZ3nyLGB-C7FKdSLclLLhXwqEkZdO6-BlzQTpynhgR_TrxoZ035JZOPo8oDdecpQBdaicNPTwPcvd-7C_ryZWL4Kr6O5SBA/s4032/IMG_4484.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiteP0nmR6OJewNP2qWKRentG_yjxi8gypVOSjnW8R_22vBF4kcPO7VC3HpK-gNofzFfUSue9YiVSlpzffWXK2jYeyVmazSZ3nyLGB-C7FKdSLclLLhXwqEkZdO6-BlzQTpynhgR_TrxoZ035JZOPo8oDdecpQBdaicNPTwPcvd-7C_ryZWL4Kr6O5SBA/w300-h400/IMG_4484.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Having come all this way there wasn't going to be any turning back. Emmy had worn her swimsuit under her dress but Rick and I did the Italian changing routine securing a towel around our waists and then shimmying out of one set of clothes and into our suits. With little experience with this technique I'm sure I flashed a few of unsuspecting travelers. When you finally reach the beginning of the water source you can see that the water is crystal clear but as the stream proceeds to move down through a series of pools and falls the sulfur makes it's way in mixing with the clear water and the Tuscan clay turning the waters that beautiful pale blue.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCoGe5i-xGqV6AMpNxmbo548CWiEdx7um5bm0Uce4zT8jFRliqcqP4feOFd6yZoU6VuFoUw_BohSDfKGdfxAEDegWb9fXsp2OWvtREpHonJ0bY65GmxZ1ZGzaQk9wVo9EFCmVY_c_o5jGt-MK_HPDYntxmWRtNR77Y-AQalRbIOKAW0Nc1iwQa1vP5w/s4032/IMG_4467.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCoGe5i-xGqV6AMpNxmbo548CWiEdx7um5bm0Uce4zT8jFRliqcqP4feOFd6yZoU6VuFoUw_BohSDfKGdfxAEDegWb9fXsp2OWvtREpHonJ0bY65GmxZ1ZGzaQk9wVo9EFCmVY_c_o5jGt-MK_HPDYntxmWRtNR77Y-AQalRbIOKAW0Nc1iwQa1vP5w/w300-h400/IMG_4467.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It also starts to stink even more than before. Now that pungent scent of rotten eggs was clinging to the inside of our nostrils and burned in our throats. This was when we started feeling a little uncomfortable about the second plan for the day: lunch. If we got into the water would the scent permeate our bodies and cling to our clothes? Would the host at any restaurant even want to let us in? We gambled on being those stinky Americans that Europeans would turn up their noses to anyway and went for a dip.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tAYOCvIjbBSWA6UPNZ2zwsLNTQft1ScsXfEsN_ms4lLtMKGSY2k2OS6axB7lEwSP9vsh87q3stzsgeCRN27N5Oz-nbUFYsMHABks8x7kNKo0gTIyqjsf_MXEy73y3Tqr5Caabz_5cjRl6Jz4DQidUDqBZj2rP4kKjUyOAFcuXwJ0l13AMy60MZbCnQ/s4032/IMG_4479.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tAYOCvIjbBSWA6UPNZ2zwsLNTQft1ScsXfEsN_ms4lLtMKGSY2k2OS6axB7lEwSP9vsh87q3stzsgeCRN27N5Oz-nbUFYsMHABks8x7kNKo0gTIyqjsf_MXEy73y3Tqr5Caabz_5cjRl6Jz4DQidUDqBZj2rP4kKjUyOAFcuXwJ0l13AMy60MZbCnQ/w300-h400/IMG_4479.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Actually the pools are not meant to be jumped into but instead you slide in lounging in the mix of the restorative waters, sulfur and silt that awaits you at the bottom of the pool. The silt, a combination of Tuscan clay and sulfur at first felt slimy but we quickly got used to it.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0WK82TcRobNEr1ATL_Lgnuzhs7NQupxMyxhg2wZzVwiBAcnLyq0qJfxBkPKgvs5Qd9siRQibrFl2ozFUWAiR_-cCgh5fm0EQvhcnPoznCbzRxvokq8oAb4h7UWxn4bhIL9-04It5lR3sSjklF8RtBhavh2DOzeNY-QXBQ1XxKjOubEHkQvAYo2jtIg/s4032/IMG_4472.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0WK82TcRobNEr1ATL_Lgnuzhs7NQupxMyxhg2wZzVwiBAcnLyq0qJfxBkPKgvs5Qd9siRQibrFl2ozFUWAiR_-cCgh5fm0EQvhcnPoznCbzRxvokq8oAb4h7UWxn4bhIL9-04It5lR3sSjklF8RtBhavh2DOzeNY-QXBQ1XxKjOubEHkQvAYo2jtIg/w300-h400/IMG_4472.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After the queasiness about the silt's texture we decided it must be part of the springs medicinal properties so we rubbed it all over our bodies. After a while now having covered ourselves in gray mud we kind of got used to the smell and began to relax into the warmth of the water and the caked on coating of slug. The main thing we all agreed on was not to let our hair come in any contact with the water. If anything was going to retain the smell it was definitely going to be our hair. We didn't stay for a long time. We never found the spa at the end of the tiered pools but it was enough.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUet3HorzELdQaqmi_dE1zQTgTL9V4uP03OF_JY6hf-TJ5XoYZ4miq9BEcDj6QLa3DsmjooZnKGjcmdII_FPBQ1yX5vJo2TPErzldheWPtSlIhbsQaUcBxZUa8shPsmV44PexJNKGrlESTjvj9COkBCfhz89e8QvcE90t4BRT24zVYoZbCk2u-bcbJrg/s4032/IMG_4495.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUet3HorzELdQaqmi_dE1zQTgTL9V4uP03OF_JY6hf-TJ5XoYZ4miq9BEcDj6QLa3DsmjooZnKGjcmdII_FPBQ1yX5vJo2TPErzldheWPtSlIhbsQaUcBxZUa8shPsmV44PexJNKGrlESTjvj9COkBCfhz89e8QvcE90t4BRT24zVYoZbCk2u-bcbJrg/w300-h400/IMG_4495.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>For lunch we decided on an old favorite: Il Vecchio Forno in San Quirico. It was on our way back from the hot springs and an easy choice.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8uHnb9bR_V8evH1wtNYH3_5tuE6RGZh_5x9lO-JEayPsoHQhukyDUqscy-uqkEx-uC1hP5OmL1uDblROoMHkKGvPRAZ_F8r4nDM0YRDSFxJdXMwxOWuzPDb8DjSp_soZtYa1-HenZSBCeeEQPonRjp-uZU2FhjeOTk3ZNnQnJEB7_u7W0U5Gxfj5pg/s3450/IMG_4488%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3450" data-original-width="2428" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8uHnb9bR_V8evH1wtNYH3_5tuE6RGZh_5x9lO-JEayPsoHQhukyDUqscy-uqkEx-uC1hP5OmL1uDblROoMHkKGvPRAZ_F8r4nDM0YRDSFxJdXMwxOWuzPDb8DjSp_soZtYa1-HenZSBCeeEQPonRjp-uZU2FhjeOTk3ZNnQnJEB7_u7W0U5Gxfj5pg/w281-h400/IMG_4488%20copy.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>The outside garden is one of our favorite places to dine no matter the time of day or the season of the year.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiId02lR06fEMmBW0oBqhPjlpWwtpI_LdcUReA5XAsFdS2bitsL4D_CyneNApstQJEBd6qGBXT2gnvenxAsmX1o94rHKWX_4ohYzdw8ziqq773mNAl8I7R27mzJJ_KXLcsshJsfI1WncrUXjZJKjoJrr0bN9_MTTRMh1L8FribHfKYoVnYn_M-O96Qttg/s4032/IMG_4489.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiId02lR06fEMmBW0oBqhPjlpWwtpI_LdcUReA5XAsFdS2bitsL4D_CyneNApstQJEBd6qGBXT2gnvenxAsmX1o94rHKWX_4ohYzdw8ziqq773mNAl8I7R27mzJJ_KXLcsshJsfI1WncrUXjZJKjoJrr0bN9_MTTRMh1L8FribHfKYoVnYn_M-O96Qttg/w300-h400/IMG_4489.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy had developed a taste for liver pate and ordered the liver appetizer off the menu. When it arrived it wasn't pate but instead chicken offal: whole gizzards, liver and hearts. She went as far as the livers but couldn't stomach the hearts. They're a little chewier but I didn't have a problem with them.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPMWKNnVQsGH8pLH-x5xn4Ymf_3RnlmhApeJtM_0BTdC2nXSmFag2cVDDM09UEhy6oBymS7K5u6bSaQGZU1h-6ipO2oK-gIcUUX-Hh8tuywDDTSNvnyHeZgj2qP25Cx2hLV3XgLkwkKfhaYopU1NypFsr6PvxHq_81DIo0dp-mKaO1UBHxSqChE06mQ/s4032/IMG_4491.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPMWKNnVQsGH8pLH-x5xn4Ymf_3RnlmhApeJtM_0BTdC2nXSmFag2cVDDM09UEhy6oBymS7K5u6bSaQGZU1h-6ipO2oK-gIcUUX-Hh8tuywDDTSNvnyHeZgj2qP25Cx2hLV3XgLkwkKfhaYopU1NypFsr6PvxHq_81DIo0dp-mKaO1UBHxSqChE06mQ/w300-h400/IMG_4491.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We ended up with two kinds of pasta that I couldn't finish<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4e3RMhe8uH0Oi9ADRwirD809L6s5Emch6VBiFOy8px8mC87bSeJ7PKVMu8UQK448fNnsQOKl6G_nm7U9egbvPH8ox34YZSM4PsB4uNOOEQcxZnOEXLxgSSsEJ-4mQoEhUSxdVgppPDDrGsiMBKjybw9QcEE0PlgXlXq2r3av7zvFmhdGfE7v_jtF3QA/s4032/IMG_4493.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4e3RMhe8uH0Oi9ADRwirD809L6s5Emch6VBiFOy8px8mC87bSeJ7PKVMu8UQK448fNnsQOKl6G_nm7U9egbvPH8ox34YZSM4PsB4uNOOEQcxZnOEXLxgSSsEJ-4mQoEhUSxdVgppPDDrGsiMBKjybw9QcEE0PlgXlXq2r3av7zvFmhdGfE7v_jtF3QA/w300-h400/IMG_4493.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>but even though we were the only ones left in the restaurant we didn't feel rushed so we lingered.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCQPfV32mcMupcxhiauQ8dOrvoTODAx5EVtMZcHyVMz79Qjxy6dVqcXUsPVRVxhArMC1hMlpXfqFFuS4Tzjj8zedQd5M5nN4oA5tUD4Y9YYvjPJ0kj-TxJSxit8sjDOPyzw4bnemSo7RfziKHY654SQiiv9WG7qXZkSwqoZAj6kt49FAPc6ZMGK7NJQ/s4032/IMG_4498.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCQPfV32mcMupcxhiauQ8dOrvoTODAx5EVtMZcHyVMz79Qjxy6dVqcXUsPVRVxhArMC1hMlpXfqFFuS4Tzjj8zedQd5M5nN4oA5tUD4Y9YYvjPJ0kj-TxJSxit8sjDOPyzw4bnemSo7RfziKHY654SQiiv9WG7qXZkSwqoZAj6kt49FAPc6ZMGK7NJQ/w300-h400/IMG_4498.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>On the drive back from San Quirico on the SS2 is a stand of cypress trees that has become the iconographic image of Tuscany. I've photographed it every visit but I still couldn't continue on without stopping. The image has become almost trite it's been photographed so many times and by much better photographers. There's now a pull off area so people can stop without fear of an accident. Alessandro would call that "a horrible moment". I got my shot and we were back.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowKWHiyRhqTKFAEzLq7w3OnkMD8I8iZBdV-KcivQRaZ8D7efDDWnCto5foDsFk-jkbTrnbd84ci424TPrPH9EvSA6IIcbS8agNP8G_8Ht9JIw0UzfbgTwBcVBfYAWITla-IkLyWQPKVQE_L1whs9WACFfFJvPqMrRRMjhgI_KHqto-CMOUsH8Fc9AYw/s4032/IMG_4522.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowKWHiyRhqTKFAEzLq7w3OnkMD8I8iZBdV-KcivQRaZ8D7efDDWnCto5foDsFk-jkbTrnbd84ci424TPrPH9EvSA6IIcbS8agNP8G_8Ht9JIw0UzfbgTwBcVBfYAWITla-IkLyWQPKVQE_L1whs9WACFfFJvPqMrRRMjhgI_KHqto-CMOUsH8Fc9AYw/w300-h400/IMG_4522.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The last part of the day was another dip in the pool, a late dinner of leftovers and an early bed.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFQrK2m97xW0PrEyc6faM6RvmGoqoeUCq9KQNLt_eej7XB66ng0exHAsutnbb5t9d-_Ckov0WnEfjQdd26mRnZqS7KwCi6NYNmmhIiRI3ZLjCMiadK_PvltxRNmf1qlBBj7e93avZAYqoGFIa1HJyE26CNAU3xO_5P9x44_kBKXxOBFMKDoizFRwrhg/s4032/IMG_4525.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFQrK2m97xW0PrEyc6faM6RvmGoqoeUCq9KQNLt_eej7XB66ng0exHAsutnbb5t9d-_Ckov0WnEfjQdd26mRnZqS7KwCi6NYNmmhIiRI3ZLjCMiadK_PvltxRNmf1qlBBj7e93avZAYqoGFIa1HJyE26CNAU3xO_5P9x44_kBKXxOBFMKDoizFRwrhg/w300-h400/IMG_4525.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>All this traveling can wear a body out.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-70627038347165302912022-05-17T10:24:00.000-05:002022-05-17T10:24:04.004-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, REST<p> <span style="color: #cc0000;">STAYING AT HOME</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLBOMnSpfwXnYLk5DbEbeKk685le5bDPHsjU-qpepSnfjbAdN8lhrj4z3zbBrME6SqV4plQyrh4nR1CibVMGtr46VRI-JvjTq5BXnlGJ_swEbJOT-wISq00jSPgn_8J1sTkK-Yscf98h4KbsN8GBF4Ab-lqXcPUvxKhND4t_sxs7h-GCG6_iRjmyB8g/s4032/IMG_4418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLBOMnSpfwXnYLk5DbEbeKk685le5bDPHsjU-qpepSnfjbAdN8lhrj4z3zbBrME6SqV4plQyrh4nR1CibVMGtr46VRI-JvjTq5BXnlGJ_swEbJOT-wISq00jSPgn_8J1sTkK-Yscf98h4KbsN8GBF4Ab-lqXcPUvxKhND4t_sxs7h-GCG6_iRjmyB8g/w300-h400/IMG_4418.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Today we did not wander. Our schedule was a blank page and rather than trying to fill it in we let it float like a paper boat in still water going no where special. Sometimes even I can accept a day of rest.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFOM1-7RHoBDgCjE4LFjYUpRSXPkmG7qD07NQ02qgzYL_xNCrfrGPXSaG9qjZj3WTNaYh4KM336ypCOPWv1_VDVGRjbbAKpU65E6wsRdtb9ma6vcl1NPAEmRIdOu40SyQO67ezFfbP5HM6u2QzINtzmxgfkZTz6KiOJilQNLmfymON0523HcXsa2Czw/s4032/IMG_4415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFOM1-7RHoBDgCjE4LFjYUpRSXPkmG7qD07NQ02qgzYL_xNCrfrGPXSaG9qjZj3WTNaYh4KM336ypCOPWv1_VDVGRjbbAKpU65E6wsRdtb9ma6vcl1NPAEmRIdOu40SyQO67ezFfbP5HM6u2QzINtzmxgfkZTz6KiOJilQNLmfymON0523HcXsa2Czw/w300-h400/IMG_4415.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The weather was perfect pool weather; a cloudless sky, a cool breeze and temperatures warm enough to generate beads of sweat from no exertion other than lifting a glass of vino blanco to our lips. We took turns slipping into the pool but only to cool off. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyDOGWEKwq9n95_5_F6S7vf2EgCt2GexPcQttlO1me66aWXJRT10_FIkdBM2ZuEgZRkZbepzm-v9ZOENPy6aJE8JMPJKV8D0aCaH8o1CE7c6qhVhDUQAlaAzJDIOALrSb9CUasGVontDP7Vu45jM4MSnTaZadMeDYv2SPEjaL695VN4CfVr-YQ9MHnw/s4032/IMG_4452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyDOGWEKwq9n95_5_F6S7vf2EgCt2GexPcQttlO1me66aWXJRT10_FIkdBM2ZuEgZRkZbepzm-v9ZOENPy6aJE8JMPJKV8D0aCaH8o1CE7c6qhVhDUQAlaAzJDIOALrSb9CUasGVontDP7Vu45jM4MSnTaZadMeDYv2SPEjaL695VN4CfVr-YQ9MHnw/w300-h400/IMG_4452.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After much napping we decided dinner would be whatever we could concoct from the frig and pantry. The Italians have a love of artichokes and we've always been right there with them. At Saturday's market we choose them not just for their taste but also for their beauty. The ones we purchased at market possessed an almost rose like resemblance with shades of pink and aborigine mixed in with the deep greens. I'm not sure if there's a season in Italy for artichokes but every vendor selling vegetables had baskets filled with them marked ten for four euros or fifteen for five.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdJTJfldR5pPKSSgNWCzu8xiU4-iHSmqAj-tHOSbOyd_Xj9fIO0QdJc4RLPv0pLl_5XkD3Azfbv1UOOen3S1bItrDGU60SojoYJBouZyk48rLpCX5s-QsJjNJXYuwpG1HrCQxuWWQZobLAF-YP8g3Sh0Uy93xxr7aPh8P5GWHSd2iKc8BQizdlj8reg/s4032/IMG_4422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdJTJfldR5pPKSSgNWCzu8xiU4-iHSmqAj-tHOSbOyd_Xj9fIO0QdJc4RLPv0pLl_5XkD3Azfbv1UOOen3S1bItrDGU60SojoYJBouZyk48rLpCX5s-QsJjNJXYuwpG1HrCQxuWWQZobLAF-YP8g3Sh0Uy93xxr7aPh8P5GWHSd2iKc8BQizdlj8reg/w300-h400/IMG_4422.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick tied them with slices of lemons and then steamed them stems and all until they were at the perfect temperature and texture for scraping the meat off of their leaves with your top teeth after dipping them in salted melted butter squeezed with fresh lemon.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsmUmvQpom7vrq8pmAbVoPwDrRrw4gtWRxIWHJiuiB8LvuoOUmmlZ_jEHN-SN2vQbdD9V6KG7oiHmTeRROzNX5YUC7vAT7YzhRIiEYjxmK6VE9sJamZwgOEW8htkwjLcPYUL20e424jVvmqGNovdlcS6N1DQZfAUrvRsUKUYCjmZ79z5EwcWIy030UA/s4032/IMG_4435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsmUmvQpom7vrq8pmAbVoPwDrRrw4gtWRxIWHJiuiB8LvuoOUmmlZ_jEHN-SN2vQbdD9V6KG7oiHmTeRROzNX5YUC7vAT7YzhRIiEYjxmK6VE9sJamZwgOEW8htkwjLcPYUL20e424jVvmqGNovdlcS6N1DQZfAUrvRsUKUYCjmZ79z5EwcWIy030UA/w300-h400/IMG_4435.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Our prima piatto was ready.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUKViwsTb21gpSNiYcs7Igh5xkTic2Fak385vLBP0tKwp5idOYbhpy8Btoz9ihm4dTAIQS8Q7omttjhd-6wH5DkkjHB0OgbIiQ36dE6NtCjFl3g4FOjOWPPMld4MedFIagXKEgiIHbS7fZMDVhRhqIkocaYTRzAJyScAHtMGKzURatFHt0ZKtYzbzzw/s4032/IMG_4454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUKViwsTb21gpSNiYcs7Igh5xkTic2Fak385vLBP0tKwp5idOYbhpy8Btoz9ihm4dTAIQS8Q7omttjhd-6wH5DkkjHB0OgbIiQ36dE6NtCjFl3g4FOjOWPPMld4MedFIagXKEgiIHbS7fZMDVhRhqIkocaYTRzAJyScAHtMGKzURatFHt0ZKtYzbzzw/w300-h400/IMG_4454.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We added a pasta dish made from whatever we could pull from the refrigerator: a box of mushrooms, the remains of a baked chicken and some cream. Emmy had been saving tomato slices and sun drying them on the windowsill. They went into the sauce along with some fresh basil, an onion and some garlic. Once the parppadelle had come to a boil and a cup of the water had been scooped out to be added to the broth our dinner was ready.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJcGxGXlzHCPjau8Ni3dE3E7UmYJCUvA1xgHCxohLThoAOMdjctAL1sW1N6IVaODce7d-H7d-XWKUkGp-ljHVI7suqPZYlmQc2hcTtqEsxhfBkYh2Bsnzm4zqqoI1tbuv59FiJLViFxgq-7RmxVUrSXtGTJvPhIm0wl5GmKqJIa_elIpLQXbCyqpRhw/s4032/IMG_4450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJcGxGXlzHCPjau8Ni3dE3E7UmYJCUvA1xgHCxohLThoAOMdjctAL1sW1N6IVaODce7d-H7d-XWKUkGp-ljHVI7suqPZYlmQc2hcTtqEsxhfBkYh2Bsnzm4zqqoI1tbuv59FiJLViFxgq-7RmxVUrSXtGTJvPhIm0wl5GmKqJIa_elIpLQXbCyqpRhw/w300-h400/IMG_4450.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It came accompanied by yet another brilliant sunset. I never left the farm for an entire day not even for gelato. This was a proud moment for me.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-65132454225042981232022-05-16T11:21:00.000-05:002022-05-16T11:21:34.045-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, A MEAL TO REMEMBER<p><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> WHAT A FIVE HOUR LUNCH LOOKS LIKE</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTiRUAFodaYL6M3YIOnipE4sazZdoo9M8lAN9maPzdyTvhCBXjUz5aVCalQRlMq-m82GdttHVDI0t7rWvr41ofhVabeIwxPqLDjodVZ1MUwskPrbFM_5i-iycEPW1MbRPw3LDZ_gmjfiEfWK1S_0hGvgZRj3M8gHu3QsEDdLrfh89yVUQFJesJMwSoA/s4032/IMG_4326.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTiRUAFodaYL6M3YIOnipE4sazZdoo9M8lAN9maPzdyTvhCBXjUz5aVCalQRlMq-m82GdttHVDI0t7rWvr41ofhVabeIwxPqLDjodVZ1MUwskPrbFM_5i-iycEPW1MbRPw3LDZ_gmjfiEfWK1S_0hGvgZRj3M8gHu3QsEDdLrfh89yVUQFJesJMwSoA/w300-h400/IMG_4326.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The arrangements for Sunday lunch kept reconfiguring over the course of the previous week. First we were delighted to be asked to what we thought was going to be a Sunday lunch for five at a restaurant on a lake with Stefania and Alessandro. Then when our former nanny changed her plans on coming for a short two-day visit that would now include Sunday we were forced to cancel. Our nanny, Angelina, had changed her plans so that she would now be traveling on Saturday but then she got sick at the airport calling us to let us know she would have to cancel. So we were now free again for Sunday brunch and excited to be reinvited. Sunday morning came and both Rick and Emmy woke up sick, but for different reasons. Rick was forced to bale but Emmy decided she could stick it out. We didn't want the Saraceni's plans to have to change another time. When it was time for us to get in the car I thought that Alessandro and Stefania would drive and we would ride along. This is when we found out we weren't going to be the only ones going to brunch. Alessandro's friend Mirando was going with his wife and seven of his relatives. It was actually a party of twelve now minus one, Rick. They gave us the choice of two ways of getting to the restaurant; one moderately curvy and the other twisted like a slinky. The slinky was going to be faster so we stupidly went along with their recommendation - mistake, mistake, mistake. Emmy might have made it to about the halfway point when all of her last night partying came to make a return visit. That tequila that seemed so much fun the night before didn't look quite as pretty served in a plastic bag in the backseat of the car. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9R_4Ync2bGgZEJfW9ssyAYqsEst8qX1GksMe3byjfujqf6Vw3HcNPgDXqOMRXaBdDv3cad9KTajIFOaMDdgWOLN24UbemzLVg72NvJtftOjAgXia0Cn-R1LFEXJ2Udku7qp4isB4jQLUaMx9L2sRiKxlP2sKFmbeGrG94QSCOsC4Hb_VDxeQejWGyow/s4032/IMG_4318.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9R_4Ync2bGgZEJfW9ssyAYqsEst8qX1GksMe3byjfujqf6Vw3HcNPgDXqOMRXaBdDv3cad9KTajIFOaMDdgWOLN24UbemzLVg72NvJtftOjAgXia0Cn-R1LFEXJ2Udku7qp4isB4jQLUaMx9L2sRiKxlP2sKFmbeGrG94QSCOsC4Hb_VDxeQejWGyow/w300-h400/IMG_4318.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Being the trooper she is she did a full recovery by the time we reached Passignano sul Trasimeno, a beautiful lake side town more like a beach town in southern Italy than a town in Tuscany. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTBNEJc71bj8e5XIK96worD1UX7bPyCFgvlqdBIRtKBORK4S260VDfEI0bHoqCZcVMEc4Yd3okGHeiG-aqrosd04R-pJLIUpHefMMhJvt9SXb9fkEztJY7XwosoMrrZmBu6MNqcQPsKaxumid-1Gl6_FG_Af87D0bLy0aE8YE6Hcc7ZShR3_DObJl48Q/s4032/IMG_4374.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTBNEJc71bj8e5XIK96worD1UX7bPyCFgvlqdBIRtKBORK4S260VDfEI0bHoqCZcVMEc4Yd3okGHeiG-aqrosd04R-pJLIUpHefMMhJvt9SXb9fkEztJY7XwosoMrrZmBu6MNqcQPsKaxumid-1Gl6_FG_Af87D0bLy0aE8YE6Hcc7ZShR3_DObJl48Q/w300-h400/IMG_4374.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We started out with a walk along the promenade at the water's edge. The lake shimmered in the sunlight of a perfect day. Many cities situated near bodies of water have their manmade water features: Copenhagen has its little mermaid, Geneva has its water spout, Passignano sul Trasimeno has its contemporary sculpture that serves as a turning point marker for sailboat regattas.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqGUgwB-Cnpu0edi9GJudnIqT_66nO9u8uiywWtw_lLb8v9BcdNiuluLtTpVV79k-isACUgx1LNTSZ1YEJm3Fk6TDhOd4BVD2SIGDC7IAP4tckhJMxXqiREcAr9WUX3asIgIBvVBKQgXs_9ei34hL4qz99iDji46BZJapOIfTN_8OdSCstMwzlx3WFQ/s4032/IMG_4356.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqGUgwB-Cnpu0edi9GJudnIqT_66nO9u8uiywWtw_lLb8v9BcdNiuluLtTpVV79k-isACUgx1LNTSZ1YEJm3Fk6TDhOd4BVD2SIGDC7IAP4tckhJMxXqiREcAr9WUX3asIgIBvVBKQgXs_9ei34hL4qz99iDji46BZJapOIfTN_8OdSCstMwzlx3WFQ/w300-h400/IMG_4356.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The restaurant they had reserved was a white jewel across from the promenade with a view of the lake. It was nothing like what I had imagined.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPEW30UCbExC7UhGmPpcfpCXQs9B8EE7ZpaVh_4ITGFYsadZemNVFVPmZB8CcpQ3yow5He89M9BDGvDOw6XsNSqV9i5Ghu4PmQIpssBCpVkLM2CTc886RhCU90LAeEaHi2RTzEDnLfUveuL-wd7tLz6aAzLPaynHb8Zes6kyVxKtw7XRMJ1LultR1Dw/s4032/IMG_4327.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPEW30UCbExC7UhGmPpcfpCXQs9B8EE7ZpaVh_4ITGFYsadZemNVFVPmZB8CcpQ3yow5He89M9BDGvDOw6XsNSqV9i5Ghu4PmQIpssBCpVkLM2CTc886RhCU90LAeEaHi2RTzEDnLfUveuL-wd7tLz6aAzLPaynHb8Zes6kyVxKtw7XRMJ1LultR1Dw/w300-h400/IMG_4327.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It's all white interior and sophisticated styling was a contrast to the rustic and historic restaurants we had chosen before.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKUveXYK_NzJkaldCNeeXEndgTQ0JGXDeBFLYmiXEYOSYHRbAzPT6Seh8_Y79kw9qbQpbzCYieGactjRx9jqNl1f0irrX3yuMpNCeWiWRfufPgVzYlS4N2ZeRCAc2F_F1r1vKlCb2Q63lRI27LXdtDeCC10jddz2UmM5Mg1qnWblYH7dFl0_s3ftAnQ/s4032/IMG_4329.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKUveXYK_NzJkaldCNeeXEndgTQ0JGXDeBFLYmiXEYOSYHRbAzPT6Seh8_Y79kw9qbQpbzCYieGactjRx9jqNl1f0irrX3yuMpNCeWiWRfufPgVzYlS4N2ZeRCAc2F_F1r1vKlCb2Q63lRI27LXdtDeCC10jddz2UmM5Mg1qnWblYH7dFl0_s3ftAnQ/w300-h400/IMG_4329.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The restaurant's specialty was fish, not fish from the lake but fish from the sea, and that's were our five hour nine course meal followed by cappuccinos and grappa began.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYtWAoC1oFVhCwyb6uvJDqcadoh_mxOlxBV7-0l1QJWz613qsW8tWLqpdn7dSCxTrsponiPDy9EKSbzOeHHkjYzA8XUS9Yy09VS3AdMmID8dwKM1w_phZOHbYHGb6_ZELjoy6YAT6frfbJsWAsITUbQ6DvWESChlol4jPzrJXb9LJSoFsqZq0_iBtdw/s4032/IMG_4335.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYtWAoC1oFVhCwyb6uvJDqcadoh_mxOlxBV7-0l1QJWz613qsW8tWLqpdn7dSCxTrsponiPDy9EKSbzOeHHkjYzA8XUS9Yy09VS3AdMmID8dwKM1w_phZOHbYHGb6_ZELjoy6YAT6frfbJsWAsITUbQ6DvWESChlol4jPzrJXb9LJSoFsqZq0_iBtdw/w300-h400/IMG_4335.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Course one: A presentation of smoked salmon and crostini with caramelized oranges. What a way to start.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4XCz2ujNa915OMAhWk4E2nvZG3qS0u78E9R6B80WihypiENqbscfmeGsUSzU6UZAixAM6jj_yF0aHX3_NqGW7dt5j0adM13zMEGnA3wyJfiaIEpMaNRVEoqdgtTRBWKv65nGswLs6-WFEBWZP20An3Na8MMZYtpBtYtSyxBfCAcJbxpZa9-bftRZpQ/s4032/IMG_4337.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4XCz2ujNa915OMAhWk4E2nvZG3qS0u78E9R6B80WihypiENqbscfmeGsUSzU6UZAixAM6jj_yF0aHX3_NqGW7dt5j0adM13zMEGnA3wyJfiaIEpMaNRVEoqdgtTRBWKv65nGswLs6-WFEBWZP20An3Na8MMZYtpBtYtSyxBfCAcJbxpZa9-bftRZpQ/w400-h300/IMG_4337.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Course two: Oysters on the half shell brought out individually on a plate of ice garnished with lemon and strawberries for color. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicrEC-Ac8J0jOg47krgZuKnc3fEj8bcgZwS-vgv7F-VQJ8J1clnjECXRIbxNbKQWIE9qW6is6a_0Fb3TqyXdWbGwAQays99TOG9CndZpTYVcnrdS4scu0xR493Qwft1vAoPqEc1ISKf97fG2ZMlgdc8ooctbbdzEFwMMMxNDe_EoM30j7xd9FvWij5-w/s4032/IMG_4338.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicrEC-Ac8J0jOg47krgZuKnc3fEj8bcgZwS-vgv7F-VQJ8J1clnjECXRIbxNbKQWIE9qW6is6a_0Fb3TqyXdWbGwAQays99TOG9CndZpTYVcnrdS4scu0xR493Qwft1vAoPqEc1ISKf97fG2ZMlgdc8ooctbbdzEFwMMMxNDe_EoM30j7xd9FvWij5-w/w400-h300/IMG_4338.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Course three Grilled octopus with a tomato confit served on an oblong plate swirled with a creamy olive oil sauce. This was so delicate and my favorite dish. Preparing octopus without having it ending up tough is a culinary art and this octopus was melt in your mouth perfection.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6dTKbVk_DixTdgnbkqRR9jMtGWd-IJeg7mr6BYPn4sh_fHuREJwHOeJ3LPn_FiWE3vALKxEeaZ69VinwxtsQkXmCwR8X16-0ibRdxpkapLBvcDSoTkN8Wej39jHft07wJlKmUiP7tx8OmOWdW9cEbCqV0_Pvg_Uj8a8sP01BpuvbR44xck-WbT_S7aA/s4032/IMG_4341.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6dTKbVk_DixTdgnbkqRR9jMtGWd-IJeg7mr6BYPn4sh_fHuREJwHOeJ3LPn_FiWE3vALKxEeaZ69VinwxtsQkXmCwR8X16-0ibRdxpkapLBvcDSoTkN8Wej39jHft07wJlKmUiP7tx8OmOWdW9cEbCqV0_Pvg_Uj8a8sP01BpuvbR44xck-WbT_S7aA/w300-h400/IMG_4341.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Course four: Equally impressive was this dish of salmon pralines with burrata rolled in pistachio nuts and laid on shards of purple cabbage.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qm2eYOFaUBmB7H0Lvp2--etWSYX4gj25mK7xrE__JXpIZ2XQrvuOag2k8-k-Vl13vyusDfohnvD-10EvxZ3jSvwaIjZgLGX_si-FZSnc4UAaV3JELtlfDFYTSLWBO06O3VjfEfvDU1TifLOhCV5cQW-O50nyoYdjlOTEHPtfxEMZkDXPP8FX2fWMRw/s4032/IMG_4342.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qm2eYOFaUBmB7H0Lvp2--etWSYX4gj25mK7xrE__JXpIZ2XQrvuOag2k8-k-Vl13vyusDfohnvD-10EvxZ3jSvwaIjZgLGX_si-FZSnc4UAaV3JELtlfDFYTSLWBO06O3VjfEfvDU1TifLOhCV5cQW-O50nyoYdjlOTEHPtfxEMZkDXPP8FX2fWMRw/w300-h400/IMG_4342.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Course five: It was now time for mussels served as a soup with a tomato based broth. Emmy and I couldn't figure out why we, being the only non-Italians, were given a separate plate for our shells and with my pigeon Italian I guess we'll never know.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWYYRPRu90BUH5OiPmjyIzf0JK66HrLTVwYc9XAVLBsWmGfJXsEtLmm97H70Aktkf-1Rc6AeoOtAWVGuGSo_QDiri0N2Ff06omCyvq1BGt8Qfj-MwYCujne50XZOVB6aiZFYX4-BIlxIo55CAkZumURNUPtmj23jPWTW6fSyRep69skKeIlZ7rgUA9A/s4032/IMG_4345.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWYYRPRu90BUH5OiPmjyIzf0JK66HrLTVwYc9XAVLBsWmGfJXsEtLmm97H70Aktkf-1Rc6AeoOtAWVGuGSo_QDiri0N2Ff06omCyvq1BGt8Qfj-MwYCujne50XZOVB6aiZFYX4-BIlxIo55CAkZumURNUPtmj23jPWTW6fSyRep69skKeIlZ7rgUA9A/w300-h400/IMG_4345.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Course six: We had now moved onto risottos with raw and cooked prawns and a dollop of stracciatella di bufala. Amazing but by now I was beginning to feel the stretching of my stomach against the waistband of my trousers. The saving grace was we were given ample time between servings<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTuzkPo7OhTTwrdxFJBEbfHu7P6oydPK4XLjh_hAo1qS7tokIqPyXmbgfa2doBsCrJ1MiGZnNIlNKbaAffJ8jxiOUnsRJFDSZnCk89v54tjvLFJW8lT4jLA46_oF88qIpYTucb9yQw31QxIuAcLfXV_J7SrrUK37vUF2TTpw5Ifwrg825a9cKM9gXcQ/s4032/IMG_4347.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTuzkPo7OhTTwrdxFJBEbfHu7P6oydPK4XLjh_hAo1qS7tokIqPyXmbgfa2doBsCrJ1MiGZnNIlNKbaAffJ8jxiOUnsRJFDSZnCk89v54tjvLFJW8lT4jLA46_oF88qIpYTucb9yQw31QxIuAcLfXV_J7SrrUK37vUF2TTpw5Ifwrg825a9cKM9gXcQ/w300-h400/IMG_4347.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Course seven: It was time for the pasta to be served, a cappellacci with prawns in a curry sauce. Spicy and not my favorite but certainly a new taste combination. In Italy a pasta dish is considered a prima piatto not a secondo. Hoping for the end but knowing there was still more to come.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6t6sGxOeshizXj_lY6Xi0sdWdFEZVH_DcnKtCo51cH0NGtAcNw-sLCgJBSBT4Jupc9RT3u5X0sauH6GSgSkjBF63ClMt3HmglMa4dYOxCQEBIv5SEOn3mj5Tn3MSeL4rEq6wnoW9sVGnot-nhbkFyAKWIzNF2FLqxCMOrSUuQFfxwrVr_I1CvDqMTfg/s4032/IMG_4351.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6t6sGxOeshizXj_lY6Xi0sdWdFEZVH_DcnKtCo51cH0NGtAcNw-sLCgJBSBT4Jupc9RT3u5X0sauH6GSgSkjBF63ClMt3HmglMa4dYOxCQEBIv5SEOn3mj5Tn3MSeL4rEq6wnoW9sVGnot-nhbkFyAKWIzNF2FLqxCMOrSUuQFfxwrVr_I1CvDqMTfg/w300-h400/IMG_4351.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />Course eitght: This course was served family still, three huge trays of frutta della mar on a bed of lettuces with lemon wedges. I believed we had made it to the end of the food menu but there was still dessert. I think Mirando's niece displayed the perfect reaction<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdEeSuSD50_iRl2AR3rd9uznaWvIAny_8uk70x_Z5nYBqfcm7rKzQntCKSsiUNWHs9Aq2Fa3WIPjNdfw5oNOUbrluwphwjemRv4OXmCHfVgYhcUfZrbbJ4HfNU_KJNi9wuJhmlnQtK3IHZJVxVXZhUwntYT8H7EiKVoqKkuRHrhpGsobvDAKkdl1Cog/s4032/IMG_4360.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdEeSuSD50_iRl2AR3rd9uznaWvIAny_8uk70x_Z5nYBqfcm7rKzQntCKSsiUNWHs9Aq2Fa3WIPjNdfw5oNOUbrluwphwjemRv4OXmCHfVgYhcUfZrbbJ4HfNU_KJNi9wuJhmlnQtK3IHZJVxVXZhUwntYT8H7EiKVoqKkuRHrhpGsobvDAKkdl1Cog/s320/IMG_4360.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Course nine: A creamy lemon sorbet served in a coupe<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAkmnUzUBiXl-_LlG_l7NhPWZtaJ026Gra-7GaHb6oLz8NLM0a7hjW1yAbhSk3gcLnAY_FViUqvVCcqYdso6p9PZecW_WzHR7_sXBCkHTe8sW8F5gqcwETNZdbx7jw5ugu6U2qUI8JOmUFMuTyS_QH6iDgDaf5YPf3t42G6fYJTNfJ0xhpCrwwBXvdQ/s4032/IMG_4361.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAkmnUzUBiXl-_LlG_l7NhPWZtaJ026Gra-7GaHb6oLz8NLM0a7hjW1yAbhSk3gcLnAY_FViUqvVCcqYdso6p9PZecW_WzHR7_sXBCkHTe8sW8F5gqcwETNZdbx7jw5ugu6U2qUI8JOmUFMuTyS_QH6iDgDaf5YPf3t42G6fYJTNfJ0xhpCrwwBXvdQ/w300-h400/IMG_4361.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We all rested a bit before the cappuccinos and espressos arrived.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUo6nDt23s3x94oeszv41fvzrGf_sAhLcU5Uul37IVB7yDxOkoB5scDFheeu06wbKjrmiRWny9Y2YItmvoHhswuQ5lkVKMlKx-YL4O3Z-S3p4Qx8u8_Ovn0DvdYVYdAfgwxU2PBhwWoflSosGauPMKXbnZYwXpez00-FFCvV4Ae5slTa06ejuEVGncdQ/s4032/IMG_4362.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUo6nDt23s3x94oeszv41fvzrGf_sAhLcU5Uul37IVB7yDxOkoB5scDFheeu06wbKjrmiRWny9Y2YItmvoHhswuQ5lkVKMlKx-YL4O3Z-S3p4Qx8u8_Ovn0DvdYVYdAfgwxU2PBhwWoflSosGauPMKXbnZYwXpez00-FFCvV4Ae5slTa06ejuEVGncdQ/w300-h400/IMG_4362.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>As I thought we might be leaving the waiters arrived with grappa for the men and limoncellos for the women. Emmy and I looked at each other as I passed her my grappa in defiance to a tiny bit of sexism. We were in Italy.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOkCa8KIrnRgW_-6Y2-q2QaGGFrw7jg7jKjSV4-nqcFP8wOKOd5CgtEh3H2zoT_lYHmJFUL3bUAZZ-tIPOYRFiWIThDkSxlcLKfcTyoRFH2-sGmBAGItlsEwOVRZ1BAXEV52TCvtxYAemRr5Wv1JKFuwqZ1BXbMsRUyBy9l6KIktI1i0xA8v-Nau6kA/s4032/IMG_4381.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOkCa8KIrnRgW_-6Y2-q2QaGGFrw7jg7jKjSV4-nqcFP8wOKOd5CgtEh3H2zoT_lYHmJFUL3bUAZZ-tIPOYRFiWIThDkSxlcLKfcTyoRFH2-sGmBAGItlsEwOVRZ1BAXEV52TCvtxYAemRr5Wv1JKFuwqZ1BXbMsRUyBy9l6KIktI1i0xA8v-Nau6kA/w400-h300/IMG_4381.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The drive back to Armena was nothing but spectacular. The sun was at the golden hour giving the landscape a special chartreuse tint.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkisiEXEdDyLuSzzzvrikeQzpozhedqhUFp0met1A4I8a4s6LzJrhXmhZj6sDo7yQLDjxnJzZSEbfmdDZpoxhiMOF6hdy11CVbksQU7gZASWxfJyZWLOyeyWa328Jcw5HiS0CcabfmdvpaQi5nTDTpBRiqATT5dM3nHDEQDAmRvsef8iGxY6BF0SR9A/s4032/IMG_4385.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkisiEXEdDyLuSzzzvrikeQzpozhedqhUFp0met1A4I8a4s6LzJrhXmhZj6sDo7yQLDjxnJzZSEbfmdDZpoxhiMOF6hdy11CVbksQU7gZASWxfJyZWLOyeyWa328Jcw5HiS0CcabfmdvpaQi5nTDTpBRiqATT5dM3nHDEQDAmRvsef8iGxY6BF0SR9A/w400-h300/IMG_4385.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We had to stop several times along the way to get out of the car and just admire the beauty of Tuscany in the spring.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidoS8YLdxgjjVqpr_txcZoeNwm9Nczus8w9_q9xyMEKvOYw8NV9CkBAW-n6mnMgVJzOMqcivK75z1rUr3BX0I3D5_ulZrG75zA0-vVjL9gX9sYptphHANL1OkTRaV9icfw3txavCKeTagt_3qlHfJZnoaRIXSioORztV5GNlohm7GMu2CAB4SJZuKHQ/s4032/IMG_4386.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhidoS8YLdxgjjVqpr_txcZoeNwm9Nczus8w9_q9xyMEKvOYw8NV9CkBAW-n6mnMgVJzOMqcivK75z1rUr3BX0I3D5_ulZrG75zA0-vVjL9gX9sYptphHANL1OkTRaV9icfw3txavCKeTagt_3qlHfJZnoaRIXSioORztV5GNlohm7GMu2CAB4SJZuKHQ/w300-h400/IMG_4386.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Even the dusty gravel road leading up to Armena was a blaze of ambers and golds, the perfect ending to a perfect although fat inducing day from a meal plus wine and drinks for sixty euros per person. Match that New York.<p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-14380921840398750942022-05-15T15:18:00.000-05:002022-05-15T15:18:00.830-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, DEPARTURES<p><span style="color: red;"> A CHANGE IN DYNAMICS</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6xOmuMRIczSbTmR0hfmeQ2O8MS9NpdYekQDA5fad2GXRJ8XWuVI0gPxn2F5VYJV5SH6dYXGH0Oqfqe7O4lFQwktUHNlSIs-oJhtMSDiwKJSfpLn1oiKixucYTKYtBP_u2w3ty4z201cTCS742r4HKVqOUh0fbbxwTTGtYUT22tDUzQck7_7Ho95oHg/s4032/IMG_4242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6xOmuMRIczSbTmR0hfmeQ2O8MS9NpdYekQDA5fad2GXRJ8XWuVI0gPxn2F5VYJV5SH6dYXGH0Oqfqe7O4lFQwktUHNlSIs-oJhtMSDiwKJSfpLn1oiKixucYTKYtBP_u2w3ty4z201cTCS742r4HKVqOUh0fbbxwTTGtYUT22tDUzQck7_7Ho95oHg/w400-h300/IMG_4242.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Some how the Dutch and American/English were able to pull it together after a long night and a short sleep before packing their suitcases and then their cars in time to hit the road leaving us and Armena behind.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-z347qqDrVgEYJPHnGPoNyhYaznPQ06VmJsxcmfcZ0T7MoJayIbk2dYeOyCT75aoUuzBY6JxPe_R4BippJtFr-T5fJPpPdxDu-4qoxYquZQ4Ej1oD11Te7_TEv0yZd786jPl60jvXIFWNHyCaJ4S4_Cxv6SixDsWDRDLueEAUGjUjLgFaioIP_Erbg/s4032/IMG_4246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-z347qqDrVgEYJPHnGPoNyhYaznPQ06VmJsxcmfcZ0T7MoJayIbk2dYeOyCT75aoUuzBY6JxPe_R4BippJtFr-T5fJPpPdxDu-4qoxYquZQ4Ej1oD11Te7_TEv0yZd786jPl60jvXIFWNHyCaJ4S4_Cxv6SixDsWDRDLueEAUGjUjLgFaioIP_Erbg/w300-h400/IMG_4246.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>By ten o'clock the hugs had made the rounds and promises of return trips were heard from trembling lips. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOI9ORK8FVivNZGVrO2FUFDg4xiv7HKsJvdOTQfNBhuYg9Yy1xxnQwDzQ9FxyzoMunqLyzBtXcYjt2JT6-cgDZLMH_Utf1Nyc1Qh1EcZm1xeYhVvO_Rz7Fea8D3CsjRGVmaTBarKc3-AVRG8ps034egLo0CInR3qCdtFO3gSXQuZcIXI_FnCTDi3R0Q/s4032/IMG_4248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOI9ORK8FVivNZGVrO2FUFDg4xiv7HKsJvdOTQfNBhuYg9Yy1xxnQwDzQ9FxyzoMunqLyzBtXcYjt2JT6-cgDZLMH_Utf1Nyc1Qh1EcZm1xeYhVvO_Rz7Fea8D3CsjRGVmaTBarKc3-AVRG8ps034egLo0CInR3qCdtFO3gSXQuZcIXI_FnCTDi3R0Q/w300-h400/IMG_4248.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The bromance between and Adam and Eric would have to resume remotely. I think it might have caused Adam to have even shed a tear.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScf6icGGCe2v30p1yHYDFEU2-cGx5y-an0Gxe9hZuUH0xVkYZQgrf2IlyTK8D7TWgSMLbbEy5IaOpPCS83p_G6xIWJEkpyDYKkKFXaIZCJhLBpcSjeMnhGkKCU8t0uLA5CJEOqAsUmXZpaZz6B1ejfWv6MBcGZS13am6dpkVhCkEdf6E5CEsXWvnfmw/s3002/IMG_4255%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2220" data-original-width="3002" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScf6icGGCe2v30p1yHYDFEU2-cGx5y-an0Gxe9hZuUH0xVkYZQgrf2IlyTK8D7TWgSMLbbEy5IaOpPCS83p_G6xIWJEkpyDYKkKFXaIZCJhLBpcSjeMnhGkKCU8t0uLA5CJEOqAsUmXZpaZz6B1ejfWv6MBcGZS13am6dpkVhCkEdf6E5CEsXWvnfmw/w400-h296/IMG_4255%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Those of us staying waved our towels in the air in the tradition of all departures from Armena as a way of saying good-bye but come back soon.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeR42NUg5BF-v8hzb0monzFrNAy-N5EKWkdWhOKfV-snMPoeLtJ5vyEzrsivG0LAoFILvb8dXlQi93lX0yEzUmUK00ZIk21IomwL8ErXJjs96a0T__3_ZILEq6Jsyn3YBJkfd8gIz2YEngQdh6BkCHrX9yf2UhUrQZFnHHY44tf35xq86WJ11jb3rAw/s4032/IMG_4254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeR42NUg5BF-v8hzb0monzFrNAy-N5EKWkdWhOKfV-snMPoeLtJ5vyEzrsivG0LAoFILvb8dXlQi93lX0yEzUmUK00ZIk21IomwL8ErXJjs96a0T__3_ZILEq6Jsyn3YBJkfd8gIz2YEngQdh6BkCHrX9yf2UhUrQZFnHHY44tf35xq86WJ11jb3rAw/w300-h400/IMG_4254.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Alessandro also wept and the dogs got in the act by staging a growling match between Maggie and Aliscia<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQc9liGkG4CmouzffQ5oBcFvoV7GwzY1e2pX6mtTQ5H6cSNjQHH8Vah046IVttSMYZDG5p-OAcxgWK3BmyMk-nK2dAnOvmZXOHHocHKeC_e-W3ySy7RjFI5pB1K_UNT6hG9Isy20JDtJ5yXTOCgYGIK4R8lu8JVGE3IBWMklqM7ILZJJRvXKteES2Og/s4032/IMG_4251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQc9liGkG4CmouzffQ5oBcFvoV7GwzY1e2pX6mtTQ5H6cSNjQHH8Vah046IVttSMYZDG5p-OAcxgWK3BmyMk-nK2dAnOvmZXOHHocHKeC_e-W3ySy7RjFI5pB1K_UNT6hG9Isy20JDtJ5yXTOCgYGIK4R8lu8JVGE3IBWMklqM7ILZJJRvXKteES2Og/w300-h400/IMG_4251.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>as the cars made their final journey through the gates. Hands could be seen waving back through open windows as the cars disappeared into the dust cloud that accompanied every departure and arrival.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjywenBbjJX95Yg8htc2JoetZTRLT8Zh-Gj1YYnDDRF53LkLoQO4gLDINrpc1tGwsmnQUlAG5mJ60Q8JA9OoVcaZERfaoiQ5yzw_iuNA27y4z4A6Kme8HuUwJVqr0V9A3L7Am588vWEsjhx2ty6hyRL8pn0RsSoJ5Q4XC6_wSYTknYgREistRLvQ14UOg/s4032/IMG_4256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjywenBbjJX95Yg8htc2JoetZTRLT8Zh-Gj1YYnDDRF53LkLoQO4gLDINrpc1tGwsmnQUlAG5mJ60Q8JA9OoVcaZERfaoiQ5yzw_iuNA27y4z4A6Kme8HuUwJVqr0V9A3L7Am588vWEsjhx2ty6hyRL8pn0RsSoJ5Q4XC6_wSYTknYgREistRLvQ14UOg/w300-h400/IMG_4256.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>A new quiet settled over the farm. Even the horses were mute. The activity of the farm would now change as the cleaning crew came in to change our linens, sweep out the floors and cart away our enormous stack of empty bottles.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWanMKzCh_gtmKiKnqhQA1hMkWMl-5UT8ZJZJabZ7CKjsV-Kctr158AaqjHmKH0tgLKrmOqxddQp-desOmlmOzHeYX4eEktRwB55NynoWgUhk_KiAdwiToYCl71Wn9JG2HrIKtiPdCqe0lEunknJeP524ySvqxLETYdauIF6gsq9QuSzqlOZorO0M_AA/s4032/IMG_4260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWanMKzCh_gtmKiKnqhQA1hMkWMl-5UT8ZJZJabZ7CKjsV-Kctr158AaqjHmKH0tgLKrmOqxddQp-desOmlmOzHeYX4eEktRwB55NynoWgUhk_KiAdwiToYCl71Wn9JG2HrIKtiPdCqe0lEunknJeP524ySvqxLETYdauIF6gsq9QuSzqlOZorO0M_AA/w300-h400/IMG_4260.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We were required to leave during the cleaning process. Since Saturday is market day in Buonconvento it seemed like a good time to stock up on provisions for the next week.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdfsV_vB_bKvSMHIWVtwA90LnvMasFBQcpKMqFXFMC_t1xKkF9QtAFfCMWZH2rkmO9nxQXMeislvbEE0LluV2lBRMRpTmlODCpILntMFZTvDBPbdB0gH9J24vtHWrZ-KSackWK1ckIfzpr5H6Fvc0BrKURIjxuSzg1gaY3tud5-uS8cDeeS9GFHA2rA/s4032/IMG_4262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdfsV_vB_bKvSMHIWVtwA90LnvMasFBQcpKMqFXFMC_t1xKkF9QtAFfCMWZH2rkmO9nxQXMeislvbEE0LluV2lBRMRpTmlODCpILntMFZTvDBPbdB0gH9J24vtHWrZ-KSackWK1ckIfzpr5H6Fvc0BrKURIjxuSzg1gaY3tud5-uS8cDeeS9GFHA2rA/w300-h400/IMG_4262.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Here you can buy everything from baby artichokes<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKncc89knDCC6X8ZJzWg3wpzsaTrKIwZ7JRmxj_-evcK39DgNa26MqNkIIhP0dDBGZJBzwnR9vX4LY_Gj5uKTaWb43SX9QyB0RNGdB4MV0JVMnPaK9Yj5_MrO8elIUbFtQkC6W3bMw9jiWN7Ak3jkTta6L_x9F075Mz5ZE_mNz09RLws1nEHQeEZIDQ/s4032/IMG_4257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKncc89knDCC6X8ZJzWg3wpzsaTrKIwZ7JRmxj_-evcK39DgNa26MqNkIIhP0dDBGZJBzwnR9vX4LY_Gj5uKTaWb43SX9QyB0RNGdB4MV0JVMnPaK9Yj5_MrO8elIUbFtQkC6W3bMw9jiWN7Ak3jkTta6L_x9F075Mz5ZE_mNz09RLws1nEHQeEZIDQ/w300-h400/IMG_4257.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>to brassieres.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFMm2irN3ztHglLsYGbsAFojmIjeLK4szmNS0mz5eYFNHK1FCTZn32Ha_13VewFtE6rV3ISr5kVi6-pwB5KDNc_RGJzSqUGXkfelasTmKorQrKf3dD8-aTynBgUYqcmSBLPWcvye-BVfNplhx00uD3M8cRCql2qF7oZnHyaVuJGXg8tMpnrpiglz3FLA/s4032/IMG_4263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFMm2irN3ztHglLsYGbsAFojmIjeLK4szmNS0mz5eYFNHK1FCTZn32Ha_13VewFtE6rV3ISr5kVi6-pwB5KDNc_RGJzSqUGXkfelasTmKorQrKf3dD8-aTynBgUYqcmSBLPWcvye-BVfNplhx00uD3M8cRCql2qF7oZnHyaVuJGXg8tMpnrpiglz3FLA/w300-h400/IMG_4263.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>There were baskets of Amalfi lemons still clinging to their stems<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EIHIRGmiIuHchzufuLmlbpDwAaAFrOpTIlGrR-D0h9FeMMWJsUTJXyucOecwhpm4zXfBK5oHMGK-6Zi3AT1wOpwZ36wG7KQjKfHlktP8NzygmfV9NQP_LA6EMm9qxj6ys1ISE8uKECGvDgtYx00bxztYNlR63LTf1P0vdeAxUzdiQUwE4K2GAvg6fg/s4032/IMG_4259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EIHIRGmiIuHchzufuLmlbpDwAaAFrOpTIlGrR-D0h9FeMMWJsUTJXyucOecwhpm4zXfBK5oHMGK-6Zi3AT1wOpwZ36wG7KQjKfHlktP8NzygmfV9NQP_LA6EMm9qxj6ys1ISE8uKECGvDgtYx00bxztYNlR63LTf1P0vdeAxUzdiQUwE4K2GAvg6fg/w300-h400/IMG_4259.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>and a street long parade of vendors for every home need.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vXaCksAsW6JiYjQ1VdI-ro4ae5W-aNhUEHhShsSi3ag7UQ8XpItZv1GwYRCyQAIxmjbWneNQPF4KRcPXa4JWvCkYbdROiKDTvjagse_3ztR3geZGsIEuoca-DS9xuDsdj9j6U24Fs2Qh542TdTCTsX-EUSa5SMq1E5NCo83myjVo3CLPdEEtRQQakA/s4032/IMG_4313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vXaCksAsW6JiYjQ1VdI-ro4ae5W-aNhUEHhShsSi3ag7UQ8XpItZv1GwYRCyQAIxmjbWneNQPF4KRcPXa4JWvCkYbdROiKDTvjagse_3ztR3geZGsIEuoca-DS9xuDsdj9j6U24Fs2Qh542TdTCTsX-EUSa5SMq1E5NCo83myjVo3CLPdEEtRQQakA/w300-h400/IMG_4313.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Before looking for lunch we stopped in at Giulia's flower shop to pick up some flowers for the remainder of the week. We settled on a little white orchid. We always feel it's important to have something living in a home even if your stay is only going to be temporary.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjie06HYgTK12IwrQkMFI4JchdnRzLZ3QrjPMHo-afCd8dPHo7pvll-mjzrjp9a3i0K3H4YKpOkZ22-LKL7FN077YjbHDJ8cjuygT2hA7okJbumWbWMJNoI4SLZ0lzdyjTLXjm2DPrvwNlrnihHeZUxWtegXnkn1Sh0pXuirY_MWrP47m3Evc1PEAS5g/s3320/IMG_4264%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3320" data-original-width="2255" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjie06HYgTK12IwrQkMFI4JchdnRzLZ3QrjPMHo-afCd8dPHo7pvll-mjzrjp9a3i0K3H4YKpOkZ22-LKL7FN077YjbHDJ8cjuygT2hA7okJbumWbWMJNoI4SLZ0lzdyjTLXjm2DPrvwNlrnihHeZUxWtegXnkn1Sh0pXuirY_MWrP47m3Evc1PEAS5g/w271-h400/IMG_4264%20copy.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>We slipped back in to the old town to find a table for an early lunch. It's so easy in Italy to find your eyes much bigger than your stomach.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjzu6mH2cjuGIr1ZI2m1M9LkvJf62kJhh8102YTHikxQq4zWvKVHmGyDFfXLVawZXcE9Sas_2jnGO1Zoss0zSBoZxOrZgN1_54ax0YudyyfcZrVyfEjp9ENKDhDq6xhtFwmIEBPY88ZZuqLXsBr0JOYG2G2BemcZqeuqLON75iwbIBkA1fO-d-mN5DA/s4032/IMG_4267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjzu6mH2cjuGIr1ZI2m1M9LkvJf62kJhh8102YTHikxQq4zWvKVHmGyDFfXLVawZXcE9Sas_2jnGO1Zoss0zSBoZxOrZgN1_54ax0YudyyfcZrVyfEjp9ENKDhDq6xhtFwmIEBPY88ZZuqLXsBr0JOYG2G2BemcZqeuqLON75iwbIBkA1fO-d-mN5DA/w400-h300/IMG_4267.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>With perfect weather it was a difficult choice deciding whether to eat indoors or out at La Porta di Sotto. We decided on an outdoor table at La Porta di Sotto covered by a large white umbrella to protect us from the sun but allowing us to still enjoy the mid-May breeze.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Z-UmddGhAehtYtF5U_MEEK0civupCzQxA9NouQpJClZG54T54xKUeVzWpyGLY0r1SWKBErTZ9mvD2Rg3DsUzftfXahXZ8rOUHUID78m7oh0dWwl5bjykUfouIjyzeP-HMJVzTYG97KK49PxZArRx0d_zWh4boIlGQVXC_s9gsBHOaX8upq30C_0vkg/s4032/IMG_4270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Z-UmddGhAehtYtF5U_MEEK0civupCzQxA9NouQpJClZG54T54xKUeVzWpyGLY0r1SWKBErTZ9mvD2Rg3DsUzftfXahXZ8rOUHUID78m7oh0dWwl5bjykUfouIjyzeP-HMJVzTYG97KK49PxZArRx0d_zWh4boIlGQVXC_s9gsBHOaX8upq30C_0vkg/w300-h400/IMG_4270.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Even though we weren't really all that hungry we couldn't pass up trying a couple of the appetizers. The deep-fried artichokes were the first thing we all agreed on.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitv7pyV4ZT4cYdkWV7cr3pM41yqhof_qLfAgeWbiEQLzLyy8sFNZu5BTGkE89Vl1JUOX2sBMF-AKebsFLqNNLp_iFk0vkGU6uuR5LPGWmpZo6rPwrJsLrJwvhBTQ9eTNMbYvKR1wxdxjCo4st1vDSxFgBH1jDkiXdyIsxK3OpH0C-gWe8mfQgwwQKOyw/s4032/IMG_4271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitv7pyV4ZT4cYdkWV7cr3pM41yqhof_qLfAgeWbiEQLzLyy8sFNZu5BTGkE89Vl1JUOX2sBMF-AKebsFLqNNLp_iFk0vkGU6uuR5LPGWmpZo6rPwrJsLrJwvhBTQ9eTNMbYvKR1wxdxjCo4st1vDSxFgBH1jDkiXdyIsxK3OpH0C-gWe8mfQgwwQKOyw/w300-h400/IMG_4271.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Then our very animated waiter persuaded us through an animated pantomime to try the crostone con la nana, a crostone cut so thin it was impossible to eat by hand. My first mouthful ended up in my lap but what's Italy without a little stain of remembrance on a favorite shirt.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjns_AEs043tjT4018i5sxchgIMQkpYYWxc-nYqLz2X4T3qd9SCSgpAzQHHSGNPqHXW-CsiDVmUqRbIDKMs7FtkKdL_E2INmEi50Wh9009MieHy3HV2RnA3mfnAjC2XKtmn88e9dmHiZeo9F2dUfUKEiN_YaU41uNVmuVna-hLOMDLhfd6Ed61cOE1r2g/s4032/IMG_4276.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjns_AEs043tjT4018i5sxchgIMQkpYYWxc-nYqLz2X4T3qd9SCSgpAzQHHSGNPqHXW-CsiDVmUqRbIDKMs7FtkKdL_E2INmEi50Wh9009MieHy3HV2RnA3mfnAjC2XKtmn88e9dmHiZeo9F2dUfUKEiN_YaU41uNVmuVna-hLOMDLhfd6Ed61cOE1r2g/w300-h400/IMG_4276.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We didn't stop there, we went right into a pair of pasta dishes, both were incredible. Pici is now our pasta of choice whenever we can get it. It's a softer, meatier noodle that allows any sauce a better surface to cling to. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjAgcSuuxMcJdpNH3f0DEuxydj6dXcCpb34sVFMaxY1ug1B0O4I7DEGeGWvOv9eIPsZnNinXkRJebKS05w2BqEaj4yr7IXgGSXu2EbG5dbI06hgt_17_FANS4WVyAkmRPhwpIiZfssLJk_6zbUeELFfY4snwgBpKQXKP63dLIusnAoquqE-HIHNNXFQ/s4032/IMG_4272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjAgcSuuxMcJdpNH3f0DEuxydj6dXcCpb34sVFMaxY1ug1B0O4I7DEGeGWvOv9eIPsZnNinXkRJebKS05w2BqEaj4yr7IXgGSXu2EbG5dbI06hgt_17_FANS4WVyAkmRPhwpIiZfssLJk_6zbUeELFfY4snwgBpKQXKP63dLIusnAoquqE-HIHNNXFQ/w300-h400/IMG_4272.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The second pasta was a dish made of stracci and hearts of artichoke and a very light cream sauce. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFJYFlOLqxxB1aZfJYdaZZxu2eL03V-NQaMZAXR37skGHl4QzQD4ZJSxHaWuKJxWz6T2_OOLM8SfSd52Fy0gIJGFb5gtZnNcgjFvKUrMbSjlhdO_KyJ7yNBJnuKIvOZ9dS7Wd6cGkNDS5jkbMut14wTIvCpX-bIVoAGkestXAXC_BQNKtoTRUacj6AA/s4032/IMG_4278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFJYFlOLqxxB1aZfJYdaZZxu2eL03V-NQaMZAXR37skGHl4QzQD4ZJSxHaWuKJxWz6T2_OOLM8SfSd52Fy0gIJGFb5gtZnNcgjFvKUrMbSjlhdO_KyJ7yNBJnuKIvOZ9dS7Wd6cGkNDS5jkbMut14wTIvCpX-bIVoAGkestXAXC_BQNKtoTRUacj6AA/w300-h400/IMG_4278.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>When we returned to the farm we decided it was finally time to christen the pool before we all feel in for a nap. The pool had been going through the cleaning process that occurs every spring but a full cleaning hadn't happened for two years due to Covid. We were pushing the time frame but a dip in the pool out weighed the fact that there was still a bit of algae to be scrubbed from the bottom of the pool.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVDJfMHh09mSgKNJLXwuVXVqBZPjLlAkgRGMaAGwTP6gxSLonMBv67UHsyKdOUFM7DrUisiwl2yWpbTIrH-AgqF5cwyU8EtVB5Z2n-vGrQVywY4y9vYpw_BwizDuDbsBPhb3VOh1D4pY5gKSecoHS1Ybe8eF2-Z6bL7iZT8BXthdodk-PeYhbMJDw6w/s4032/IMG_4310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVDJfMHh09mSgKNJLXwuVXVqBZPjLlAkgRGMaAGwTP6gxSLonMBv67UHsyKdOUFM7DrUisiwl2yWpbTIrH-AgqF5cwyU8EtVB5Z2n-vGrQVywY4y9vYpw_BwizDuDbsBPhb3VOh1D4pY5gKSecoHS1Ybe8eF2-Z6bL7iZT8BXthdodk-PeYhbMJDw6w/w300-h400/IMG_4310.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>That night we were all so full from lunch that we decided on cutting into one of the chickens we had bought at the market for chicken and tomato sandwiches. I can not end a meal without a sweet and we hadn't yet made it to our favorite gelatoria in Montalcino ,"Why Not". For the first time ever when I arrived it was closed. This has all very worried.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-30047607505862574762022-05-14T12:39:00.001-05:002022-05-14T12:39:51.924-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, BIRTHDAYS AND WINE A SECOND GO AROUND<p> <span style="color: #f1c232;">TWO BIRTHDAYS AND A FAREWELL</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibaQPRhs1oIyL3X8t6P5p-_hQdVjza_edaO-7ymBnP7FXsrkbejb1z2g60EYjZxA7Q3lXwxnsStY_kSbV9kW3T0Tb7daPemZUS_MGLHvfwEsxb2LjC7Lrntlki4T_UzFMxUFQIoDCsTUblmsfRKoUwH8WFea8Xhs6I_TzA0s9AYmeRTkI16TUGherqDg/s4032/IMG_4281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibaQPRhs1oIyL3X8t6P5p-_hQdVjza_edaO-7ymBnP7FXsrkbejb1z2g60EYjZxA7Q3lXwxnsStY_kSbV9kW3T0Tb7daPemZUS_MGLHvfwEsxb2LjC7Lrntlki4T_UzFMxUFQIoDCsTUblmsfRKoUwH8WFea8Xhs6I_TzA0s9AYmeRTkI16TUGherqDg/w300-h400/IMG_4281.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It's been our experience that there are two kinds of vacations and vacationers. The first group uses the word "vacation" to mean "relaxation". They get up with no itinerary and no desire to go further than the pool or the wet bar. A vacation is an escape from the stresses of whatever they face on a daily basis back in their real worlds.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-WSrczYHkMKGq6VMTsfwqsfafPdtyr1kor2opDeuMlVP93VlmVMtpYhY8MoepQd3B5Ryula_VpHIe4rhAIh5qQ0QEZiHAM4bW0Iv0yu6uJO3K40zBaRmYxf3MtASNK37EeG5CL-tDEEcthfF032p1bvkrAnxGI0pPqD0xSu8ZPLcQoUQ8FztQYOYLg/s4032/IMG_4131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-WSrczYHkMKGq6VMTsfwqsfafPdtyr1kor2opDeuMlVP93VlmVMtpYhY8MoepQd3B5Ryula_VpHIe4rhAIh5qQ0QEZiHAM4bW0Iv0yu6uJO3K40zBaRmYxf3MtASNK37EeG5CL-tDEEcthfF032p1bvkrAnxGI0pPqD0xSu8ZPLcQoUQ8FztQYOYLg/w300-h400/IMG_4131.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The other type of traveler translates the word "vacation" more closely to "exhaustion". This group has an itinerary that schedules every minute of every day and marches to that manifesto dragging everyone along whether they want to or not. <p></p><p>My family is split on this and since there are three of us it's impossible to come out with a tie. I doubt anyone who knows me knows what side of the coin I'm on.</p><p>Today I had to give in to the first group, well sort of. We only put together two plans. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYBY8kidU9G9n2c-ylNjmlvbaz1KeUBk-izHkgGy2H2SjeZPiPiQz870qs1ZFS-kTYopaON4lNyLVs3nZTllxNx_eIbgFekshahdawjvbf92BXLlAcgDt6FVbkUIRAGBayGtI2md396Y-RwHMBoj4B08O312Czi3Iyw0eQQ7MUMNaWcTbosIYb8TG_A/s4032/IMG_4182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYBY8kidU9G9n2c-ylNjmlvbaz1KeUBk-izHkgGy2H2SjeZPiPiQz870qs1ZFS-kTYopaON4lNyLVs3nZTllxNx_eIbgFekshahdawjvbf92BXLlAcgDt6FVbkUIRAGBayGtI2md396Y-RwHMBoj4B08O312Czi3Iyw0eQQ7MUMNaWcTbosIYb8TG_A/w300-h400/IMG_4182.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Jocapo had arranged for a wine tasting at the Capanna Winery in Montalcino. The other would occur later that evening at a birthday celebration for Stefania and Giulio and a farewell to our San Francisco and Dutch friends.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn1YNHCf7MWcPaY3hahCq0MS97GoY795y5LWBJa1-3BhkM-MSOGNGS6AO9qV-PwsGRO9wxE0QtycYhHMWE6G6pwwRA2pxiSPMxRuaMjrDJOm1p09BR1nBsJ0DoKhhPbEPiPZ1LUSWDQRe57BunukynQHh0SPHLkFTPkiX67_P6HZbCegetj-jA9aqkw/s4032/IMG_4180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn1YNHCf7MWcPaY3hahCq0MS97GoY795y5LWBJa1-3BhkM-MSOGNGS6AO9qV-PwsGRO9wxE0QtycYhHMWE6G6pwwRA2pxiSPMxRuaMjrDJOm1p09BR1nBsJ0DoKhhPbEPiPZ1LUSWDQRe57BunukynQHh0SPHLkFTPkiX67_P6HZbCegetj-jA9aqkw/w300-h400/IMG_4180.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The winery tour was to begin a three. I twiddled my thumbs until then. The winery has remained in the Capanna family since 1957. Jacapo grew up with the founder's great-grandson. Our tour guide was also a childhood friend of Jocapo. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvOCoQxmN_5lxTQD8WwSnmrZUhjcqpsxXQdQVCrAOeK5V2wizn_v4aaU6CluJvVMb8CxmWnA93_uTXzxklMdKnw7jHzUj1CyD8Dnswm1zQVAkw1eWW7Y6YnXuQj_cCnXDOuP7xtfV9-X0tuqTTl1gXjEaAU2_EOUuC6PHCLacl1tqyQqRG_j2iJM8KA/s4032/IMG_4169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvOCoQxmN_5lxTQD8WwSnmrZUhjcqpsxXQdQVCrAOeK5V2wizn_v4aaU6CluJvVMb8CxmWnA93_uTXzxklMdKnw7jHzUj1CyD8Dnswm1zQVAkw1eWW7Y6YnXuQj_cCnXDOuP7xtfV9-X0tuqTTl1gXjEaAU2_EOUuC6PHCLacl1tqyQqRG_j2iJM8KA/w300-h400/IMG_4169.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>There's an intrinsic beauty in most Tuscan wineries. So many are centuries old buildings built from stone quarried from the area's bedrock that had millions of years ago been a sea.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLMOxA_yerAVBdGDNpvwFj3oZVx06Wrc6oO_jW3URIpnIKHRDr4_FOE_13jfRV1-RS8AuiQTkEt6e38MxKTFHj-BQsnMlBY2gYv0uSJnDr2ncPO8gsRq67ak_WkiRAMCZN43bzc7RzTwqZaNqq3NOdzdwiY69zDuydq034yWKW8o2USlNy7qf2KGl4Q/s4032/IMG_4171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLMOxA_yerAVBdGDNpvwFj3oZVx06Wrc6oO_jW3URIpnIKHRDr4_FOE_13jfRV1-RS8AuiQTkEt6e38MxKTFHj-BQsnMlBY2gYv0uSJnDr2ncPO8gsRq67ak_WkiRAMCZN43bzc7RzTwqZaNqq3NOdzdwiY69zDuydq034yWKW8o2USlNy7qf2KGl4Q/w400-h300/IMG_4171.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We were told that as they added on to the existing structures they were constantly finding seashells and fossilized crustaceans in and among the rocks they used to build new. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5j4OBMIrrME5cM6FwgLU8Hv6RBx6yFP2YXMDrZx92m_I1TGqu5eh2P-upcGYbo2t9ejctPXom4QsX4Owlbqurt1AMgR0o1zhuZ3O9p7V94GEBRWNDrH7qKyx6ZxH-_CA3jU__ElErgUoWG6-bwM2e9AAs12aYcZzVsdI0IXulcsojv7g19AYprv_HA/s4032/IMG_4181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5j4OBMIrrME5cM6FwgLU8Hv6RBx6yFP2YXMDrZx92m_I1TGqu5eh2P-upcGYbo2t9ejctPXom4QsX4Owlbqurt1AMgR0o1zhuZ3O9p7V94GEBRWNDrH7qKyx6ZxH-_CA3jU__ElErgUoWG6-bwM2e9AAs12aYcZzVsdI0IXulcsojv7g19AYprv_HA/w300-h400/IMG_4181.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I'm not a drinker so the tasting part of the tour was a bit of a waste on me. The wine made here is a Brunello, the most prized wine in the world. Due to the clay soil, the average low rainfall and the temperature of the area it produces a wine that no other wine district in the world can match. There are regulations governing every aspect of its production and the wineries are monitored regularly by a set of inspectors. That is why a 2016 Capanna Brunello di Montalcino sells for $996 a bottle in the United States. Don't tell anyone but after I swished that 2016 Brunello around in my mouth for a few seconds I spit it out behind Daniello's back. I have a hard time trying to decipher the imaginary bouquets of roses, strawberries and pepper that have no part in its production. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGvRgaHvXA_1Nl_g_KHKTuejhk653F6Tl-_Sr3qQVgtV7HtBwUe9QXHUa3I0We3AfNf5Rfph7JinQtv-VzcPKOEyOb0y3M8Ph0IAkMibbu6b14HIcfr18xfGA3B93T5KZkBzYFMqCqYQ2Vcd3trXSEe3LqmM-9pIzZtrLOiZkrZXn2bHVnJxpOGQ8mg/s4032/IMG_4179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGvRgaHvXA_1Nl_g_KHKTuejhk653F6Tl-_Sr3qQVgtV7HtBwUe9QXHUa3I0We3AfNf5Rfph7JinQtv-VzcPKOEyOb0y3M8Ph0IAkMibbu6b14HIcfr18xfGA3B93T5KZkBzYFMqCqYQ2Vcd3trXSEe3LqmM-9pIzZtrLOiZkrZXn2bHVnJxpOGQ8mg/w300-h400/IMG_4179.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The architecture and the caves are thrilling enough for me and besides when we go on these alcohol adventures I am more than happy to be the designated driver.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRybRrKiQE50HyyqJd_Yauf282WBSNNQYYi_dmdMO2ghqpS-4uQ4mEHdE_gfwArMeC3KHgc6vb9Ile7OuTW9_A8n8IiseLLjlQvH2P3CUPFhOt_1fLC5F2BZ4P2UeVFu2XmzarvXpXcMbQY1LznfS3JYVljC7ijBZwyvsXgMUSQ4MEq-OyzYxJwrT8Q/s4032/IMG_4222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRybRrKiQE50HyyqJd_Yauf282WBSNNQYYi_dmdMO2ghqpS-4uQ4mEHdE_gfwArMeC3KHgc6vb9Ile7OuTW9_A8n8IiseLLjlQvH2P3CUPFhOt_1fLC5F2BZ4P2UeVFu2XmzarvXpXcMbQY1LznfS3JYVljC7ijBZwyvsXgMUSQ4MEq-OyzYxJwrT8Q/w300-h400/IMG_4222.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After a three-hour nap time for all the inebriates it was off to Siena for another bit of debauchery, Stefania and Giulio's birthdays.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9ZLGHimhrjBhiPwf0Xg6Xcv8-Vv4BjYLtlvouTvUHUOUAyYOP3RMYqw8Ex7u2CyxGi5z5fiufGDgSxQV5zE8sktT4YwnM6yN5kIwvdO0Ssnr7p8-YXVI_m50ixxlnSxsNDa4c_cpdymMtbwaobGl2qjOxqY7sY-1aCGlHin3qy8GH715KmlXfh3-TQ/s4032/IMG_4213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9ZLGHimhrjBhiPwf0Xg6Xcv8-Vv4BjYLtlvouTvUHUOUAyYOP3RMYqw8Ex7u2CyxGi5z5fiufGDgSxQV5zE8sktT4YwnM6yN5kIwvdO0Ssnr7p8-YXVI_m50ixxlnSxsNDa4c_cpdymMtbwaobGl2qjOxqY7sY-1aCGlHin3qy8GH715KmlXfh3-TQ/w300-h400/IMG_4213.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>There were fifteen of us this time arriving a half-hour late at another friend of the family's restaurant.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUmFjdGRVGJ8nunQ5zCqGWiu-heHb-ls41hVmleBGA9ynbEg-_25T1TiSVnliMJmTGgKPH3QiD_fL0WBh_09yVF8kXpy95FR1KC9jph6U0J5Qr9OFR9ERZtwwYP9S3DzmqkLojdnUv8GJVk4Tn5LPZ9sraj3KGtFCxyZpNkz2KlUUfvC-RkEC1prfnQ/s4032/IMG_4223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUmFjdGRVGJ8nunQ5zCqGWiu-heHb-ls41hVmleBGA9ynbEg-_25T1TiSVnliMJmTGgKPH3QiD_fL0WBh_09yVF8kXpy95FR1KC9jph6U0J5Qr9OFR9ERZtwwYP9S3DzmqkLojdnUv8GJVk4Tn5LPZ9sraj3KGtFCxyZpNkz2KlUUfvC-RkEC1prfnQ/w300-h400/IMG_4223.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>This would be our last dinner together as a group. JoHannh, Adam and Roby were headed off to the Amalfi coast and then back to England before JoHannah and Roby headed back to San Francisco and Adam headed for Slovenia to meet up with a friend. Laura and Eric were going to take a leisurely drive back to Holland. The dinner wasn't so much about the food this time but just the sheer joy of spending time with everyone we held dear. We all spoke different native languages but it didn't stop the laughter or the understanding of most every word. We all knew the intent and you can see it on our faces. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfNLuKyFWaYI9FkJ2p6J8YwyzwbdSC2Qja1ip0QvZVDqUXzLGycIdVD1yyTFwMUfFTKcy70aI8lDgQg2I9lqLWGmhZBwWuWdHEsKrDejXTOnS4oVAOOyQHIlcBxbwjmxoqXlx6lPMCsFTfq7W5zqFLWnEEHM_drIXUxvPclQ5GKub6uOCK-kt8fKO5Q/s4032/IMG_4216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfNLuKyFWaYI9FkJ2p6J8YwyzwbdSC2Qja1ip0QvZVDqUXzLGycIdVD1yyTFwMUfFTKcy70aI8lDgQg2I9lqLWGmhZBwWuWdHEsKrDejXTOnS4oVAOOyQHIlcBxbwjmxoqXlx6lPMCsFTfq7W5zqFLWnEEHM_drIXUxvPclQ5GKub6uOCK-kt8fKO5Q/w300-h400/IMG_4216.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Look closely as Giulio holds up his gift from Emmy.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwatrTEr8FwLHygGq-Qbhw8Yju7wrkFisHt3nFjgnmcGaYutAMVDG5UQxRki9bEyoIPDxWbUWKdG1t-_yzHMQ5Tpbb4-uqy-ZPlJ7vg2XpgtmmtE0w_FVjxFtJqf_e2uyT6rJRgLPkVfygZfwQgBwW38rwBqUdim7oRS6HoUwfRtNVH9b2wNyowqu4w/s4032/IMG_4220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwatrTEr8FwLHygGq-Qbhw8Yju7wrkFisHt3nFjgnmcGaYutAMVDG5UQxRki9bEyoIPDxWbUWKdG1t-_yzHMQ5Tpbb4-uqy-ZPlJ7vg2XpgtmmtE0w_FVjxFtJqf_e2uyT6rJRgLPkVfygZfwQgBwW38rwBqUdim7oRS6HoUwfRtNVH9b2wNyowqu4w/w300-h400/IMG_4220.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>See the joy in Stefania's face as she looks at the book of photos Rick made with pictures he had taken every year we've been coming here<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-oWUPsK7T-be5Ah0kRjGSL3FulNKwcAG0AQSpQ8JjFs73KetFluEn7UfVEsQEIO3r7QCWYSgA9FQi11p27JGIaEB9OzxkAy8tGZmRRLilCY8IHR62FiQOxByXwLSaBrUrh09yEuhmRcqT9EQzh_rY9Wsh4H3g3vXnkzClyE0r86oiEMPDLUFoHJAEA/s4032/IMG_4286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-oWUPsK7T-be5Ah0kRjGSL3FulNKwcAG0AQSpQ8JjFs73KetFluEn7UfVEsQEIO3r7QCWYSgA9FQi11p27JGIaEB9OzxkAy8tGZmRRLilCY8IHR62FiQOxByXwLSaBrUrh09yEuhmRcqT9EQzh_rY9Wsh4H3g3vXnkzClyE0r86oiEMPDLUFoHJAEA/w300-h400/IMG_4286.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>of the seasonal changes on a pomegranate tree in the yard in front of our apartment.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8mLUBECn3-2c2FV2UfjtZuhoDv-T2X3tBtdedrxjN8HCgeA2bSzQIkqA9O3wkpMT8xbMPYInz43rTN1W7EXRNHUbn6gu31MvELPbYZJY5nlClRYZQylEhWNmnFohAxFYZ9W8gDNyB-yhDwOQlmd6m35hETjfBAhI35MftxFvprogzCaI2mgpI8gZ_g/s4032/IMG_4239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8mLUBECn3-2c2FV2UfjtZuhoDv-T2X3tBtdedrxjN8HCgeA2bSzQIkqA9O3wkpMT8xbMPYInz43rTN1W7EXRNHUbn6gu31MvELPbYZJY5nlClRYZQylEhWNmnFohAxFYZ9W8gDNyB-yhDwOQlmd6m35hETjfBAhI35MftxFvprogzCaI2mgpI8gZ_g/w300-h400/IMG_4239.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Cin cin echoed through the room every few seconds. It wasn't until one in the morning that we finally drove through the gates back in Armena .<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-13273993633130553562022-05-13T11:13:00.000-05:002022-05-13T11:13:02.666-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, PIENZA AN SAN QUIRICO d'ORCIA<p><span style="color: #a64d79;">ROAD TRIP</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0l_bnFcrKVsF7Jq6t3WCR4FtpWrG5gepLa4BbnUt1RlqXA2BG_VNG5647nTQklxEDKbSBN9Q2sBpmIh5YCIQZTMoXjPyRocJFyEOQ0zfGRe5tCoNZXcoJsEEUshfkc3NLnpwec2gbULaYkqHXLzDkGzuZIZqe_gDbur1QH18M42CH1pjWvUNUa91jQ/s4032/IMG_4068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0l_bnFcrKVsF7Jq6t3WCR4FtpWrG5gepLa4BbnUt1RlqXA2BG_VNG5647nTQklxEDKbSBN9Q2sBpmIh5YCIQZTMoXjPyRocJFyEOQ0zfGRe5tCoNZXcoJsEEUshfkc3NLnpwec2gbULaYkqHXLzDkGzuZIZqe_gDbur1QH18M42CH1pjWvUNUa91jQ/w300-h400/IMG_4068.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Sometimes a little event can contain great meaning and joy. The morning of our ninth day Emmy made me breakfast. It might not have been a grand event; breakfast is an ordinary part of daily life, but the joy of watching her go through the steps of preparing breakfast made me realize more than I ever had before the preciousness of her. I watched every element from toasting the bread in an open oven to patiently attending to the egg making sure when she placed it on the toast it would be a perfect sunny-side-up egg, to cutting pieces of scallion for a hint of sharpness to the final dish. She made a duplicate for herself. We sat down together cutting into the egg and letting the runny yolk ooze out onto the plate covering the dish in a rich golden tangerine. It was a simple gesture, it might not have meant anything special to her but for me it made me proud that she was my daughter.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefd6sfBGRT2t_J9DNsen2E-vw36xfvXP-B9vNsXlKpxWEExmk6Kgu0maNfg0dF6zrb9quK_BD-1JdXu0WpZrT5Jbo2Y_bDygkt383RB7ZMSKcG0TN4jqEad216CIIT1xmwbaoCJWEhe9rV71xreJzo8u8Jkp_xAwU9k55AOdFrhpEKgRuGFlFWgS2dA/s4032/IMG_4080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefd6sfBGRT2t_J9DNsen2E-vw36xfvXP-B9vNsXlKpxWEExmk6Kgu0maNfg0dF6zrb9quK_BD-1JdXu0WpZrT5Jbo2Y_bDygkt383RB7ZMSKcG0TN4jqEad216CIIT1xmwbaoCJWEhe9rV71xreJzo8u8Jkp_xAwU9k55AOdFrhpEKgRuGFlFWgS2dA/w300-h400/IMG_4080.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After lunch it was decided that we'd all do a little day tripping before our final day with everyone still at the farm. The eight of us piled into two cars with a plan we'd all go to San Quirico d'Orcia to do some shopping and site seeing. Eric and Laura had a mission. On their last trip Eric had spotted a painting he couldn't quite decide if he should get. The painting played on his mind until he was convinced he needed to go back and get it on this trip if: one the store still existed and two if the painting was still there unsold to someone else.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXdP81dO1TmmOdD0ntKzKmTVSFvjYuKoiakKqwXDDMDAc9Fu7VYoc3I927eJ8TJGkIt_YPZW01Y3_ma5tFR3D_N2cPdUgnh_QwF7t0_nXBbKpJGSGUnQfaKLRuDlxDns9fZCg8_J5jRGyG5SVV4ED5EAjnR8mhkwTkIBt9afI_B4TRgQ5Rprz35O-E9Q/s4032/IMG_4079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXdP81dO1TmmOdD0ntKzKmTVSFvjYuKoiakKqwXDDMDAc9Fu7VYoc3I927eJ8TJGkIt_YPZW01Y3_ma5tFR3D_N2cPdUgnh_QwF7t0_nXBbKpJGSGUnQfaKLRuDlxDns9fZCg8_J5jRGyG5SVV4ED5EAjnR8mhkwTkIBt9afI_B4TRgQ5Rprz35O-E9Q/w300-h400/IMG_4079.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We walked from one end of San Quirico's main street to the other finally finding the store on the last bit of real estate on the street. It was closed. That may bring an end to the search but then again it may not.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynrI79N6f35jVvo7JQJ95d6lWttnMKtO_5GxqQ5_7kiFjjHjrp5BBMMKWdxooQZyDh58nbrCsOFcQ766GXyzn3fbfzwVZozDGkm5PPFtIKeF2FrmJ6Th_hLya469i_HHd0vz9oKOcFvu0RbI91U_mm8uv-Joa9NynssKHnN6ukjir5bfXMtIZDHO4Eg/s4032/IMG_4078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynrI79N6f35jVvo7JQJ95d6lWttnMKtO_5GxqQ5_7kiFjjHjrp5BBMMKWdxooQZyDh58nbrCsOFcQ766GXyzn3fbfzwVZozDGkm5PPFtIKeF2FrmJ6Th_hLya469i_HHd0vz9oKOcFvu0RbI91U_mm8uv-Joa9NynssKHnN6ukjir5bfXMtIZDHO4Eg/w300-h400/IMG_4078.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It seemed strange, San Quirico being a tourist destination, but most of the shops were closed. We found out that for various reasons the pandemic included many shops had chosen to only open on the weekends. We were forced to restrain our shopping to window-shopping. With the disappointment of finding the shop with the painting closed, Laura and Eric decided to go back to the farm. They graciously took Roby with them. Roby is definitely not a shopper. Laura had decided on a meal plan for the evening's dinner. They would stop at the coop on their way back to pick up what she needed.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZr17JicyhHZbClDgYNViNQAVFFRRGvLRo3-M8JfqUVj2Fk2-A-9EHs0jTIi5-BsV4WrRd6mDHs8nWDYsL2Sc_F_F39BJHWWzPtTLIEK-nXb9DwafeTTZoeCI0js5lPtkBW4B6hPamNJv6Nw2iMlGFA0bLGlukVQWqMhYUvyL93eh5TOinfJnKEz2X6A/s4032/IMG_4115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZr17JicyhHZbClDgYNViNQAVFFRRGvLRo3-M8JfqUVj2Fk2-A-9EHs0jTIi5-BsV4WrRd6mDHs8nWDYsL2Sc_F_F39BJHWWzPtTLIEK-nXb9DwafeTTZoeCI0js5lPtkBW4B6hPamNJv6Nw2iMlGFA0bLGlukVQWqMhYUvyL93eh5TOinfJnKEz2X6A/w300-h400/IMG_4115.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>That left the five of us, Rick, Emmy, JoHannah, Adam and I, to continue on to Pienza for lunch and site seeing but most likely a lot of shopping. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjetfk0NPTF9bQYLbATb1S-RUOKvcImQJbwKWWj4NGsJvDSZfstoYXm1hM5239VlmcC1QsYXzJy2aUjSyB-Zk1gc0ZyB0FmbTlGfraEMQPAjlRHk2x0VyZI_AwSxzPE6O4CRSR9dfFeutblEZSB3N1jXcsgKULySGdyMVbjiOUcmf2F1XzuCGAJxctR7w/s4032/IMG_4121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjetfk0NPTF9bQYLbATb1S-RUOKvcImQJbwKWWj4NGsJvDSZfstoYXm1hM5239VlmcC1QsYXzJy2aUjSyB-Zk1gc0ZyB0FmbTlGfraEMQPAjlRHk2x0VyZI_AwSxzPE6O4CRSR9dfFeutblEZSB3N1jXcsgKULySGdyMVbjiOUcmf2F1XzuCGAJxctR7w/w300-h400/IMG_4121.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Pienza is a Disney-esk hill town ordered to be constructed by Pope Pius the II in the late sixteenth century. It had been the town Pope Pius II had been born in, a shabby insignificant village. Taking the better elements of earlier Italian architectural styles he elevated the towns prestige and in doing so his own.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rBTTFK4eK7JJ0kRKyhVLoz2qCPV7IS6hFg-rR0dUSr2r862yPU2jUrrkFA6Xydsobrtyxqf-TSR2USeDQSh_EpeF9zVZcvdIYsnQt98lxzTS7CPMrBvtopU4Eog7Uos3n68pBBqMIF9k_g5TaQx-xjBdj2RGVX8ZI2FJfe8k5yVowOF-MuKFdEtGcA/s4032/IMG_4114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rBTTFK4eK7JJ0kRKyhVLoz2qCPV7IS6hFg-rR0dUSr2r862yPU2jUrrkFA6Xydsobrtyxqf-TSR2USeDQSh_EpeF9zVZcvdIYsnQt98lxzTS7CPMrBvtopU4Eog7Uos3n68pBBqMIF9k_g5TaQx-xjBdj2RGVX8ZI2FJfe8k5yVowOF-MuKFdEtGcA/w300-h400/IMG_4114.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It's beauty was used to capture the scenic background for Franco Zeffirelli's 1968 movie "Romeo and Juliet". Every corner of Pienza offers a photographers dream of composition. Walking into the interiors and side alleys is like walking into Zeffirelli's movie.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeIHkma1369WaMzc2Lh6HMFnwST3RBzuj9gJbePFT-AFYySEcx46AiyL5n4nurjEHzIrc6BlwfqgmDxVrAodyjXO2U3vFnoMK2T-dki2aXjWk1eM6E4_2Avp4BzL4n_wDMIHiAyB0Zj5yJW8d05aRnYYaxXrfTDczJ0l7oA_VvQkA_RVhKgIvloiaRw/s4032/IMG_4092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeIHkma1369WaMzc2Lh6HMFnwST3RBzuj9gJbePFT-AFYySEcx46AiyL5n4nurjEHzIrc6BlwfqgmDxVrAodyjXO2U3vFnoMK2T-dki2aXjWk1eM6E4_2Avp4BzL4n_wDMIHiAyB0Zj5yJW8d05aRnYYaxXrfTDczJ0l7oA_VvQkA_RVhKgIvloiaRw/w300-h400/IMG_4092.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We ate at the Tratoria La Buca delle Fate for lunch. Once again the food was spectacular.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinV0to5CnN9mq-G8oC3953N2byD9DFAKaBXlUutAuI-yUX-KliHKW0iv1rW5pTbPOdQRQswfr7Xv8oJa21WRjdPFgfiS_rCPOPYyYFt3rwU-nmDa96-VNM5dia3iSuwsdZR97lYb9ar0Jr4Ksnys9QnBskpnt73f0O-2rXYwM_WfvCn1Jyo9M98jGtRA/s4032/IMG_4099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinV0to5CnN9mq-G8oC3953N2byD9DFAKaBXlUutAuI-yUX-KliHKW0iv1rW5pTbPOdQRQswfr7Xv8oJa21WRjdPFgfiS_rCPOPYyYFt3rwU-nmDa96-VNM5dia3iSuwsdZR97lYb9ar0Jr4Ksnys9QnBskpnt73f0O-2rXYwM_WfvCn1Jyo9M98jGtRA/w300-h400/IMG_4099.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I looked like such a gourmand with three plates spread out before me but my lunch was really quite simple: prosciutto on one plate, the melon on another and a bowl of baked pecorino with bacon.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZzNezRK89DZzv3NhKCw0-5odpaGbRvtOr8mysx2nWyelUEgvBHzWSDG1wLy2hVEzRpsbZZk1CkSX7u_fBI-eHIIh0rVseJO2opxq2gK_66DbjlTCIXixsW-Cp5JoVmtfwZY2dhe2dBrNKF5pOgVnnczhaPNNhTvsxNegAruht-3maQyGT3trdDSNeHg/s4032/IMG_4097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZzNezRK89DZzv3NhKCw0-5odpaGbRvtOr8mysx2nWyelUEgvBHzWSDG1wLy2hVEzRpsbZZk1CkSX7u_fBI-eHIIh0rVseJO2opxq2gK_66DbjlTCIXixsW-Cp5JoVmtfwZY2dhe2dBrNKF5pOgVnnczhaPNNhTvsxNegAruht-3maQyGT3trdDSNeHg/w300-h400/IMG_4097.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>When I write it out is sounds like a lot more than it was.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdThCl1HhriBS1onvR5fsuJY5D8NUUOAwQUr8OeVOY6oClvyqQvBbtzXR8ttg36kWJsZB4yBteNyFXgTpj6vkniy4Nhmv3yMZ7O6I-7X45Bp7db2biF8S6yWCWmcUL3j5xUQk8hc0qJgLNq7b8-L6OYuY2qfDdAo9CCRPd2TeSWS5HMFoJa0HJdvJhQ/s4032/IMG_4130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdThCl1HhriBS1onvR5fsuJY5D8NUUOAwQUr8OeVOY6oClvyqQvBbtzXR8ttg36kWJsZB4yBteNyFXgTpj6vkniy4Nhmv3yMZ7O6I-7X45Bp7db2biF8S6yWCWmcUL3j5xUQk8hc0qJgLNq7b8-L6OYuY2qfDdAo9CCRPd2TeSWS5HMFoJa0HJdvJhQ/w300-h400/IMG_4130.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After lunch we walked back down streets retracing our way back to the car and then off to Armena. For almost every day since we arrived I had been searching for the perfect poppy field to capture that striking red against the vibrant green only see in springtime. I finally found that perfectfield etween Pienza and San Quirco. We stopped the car, Emmy, Adam and I went out into the field and this is what we saw.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sPMhZ-1HTIkJp9yFLACVnD93oC4V_SbYHXtDQYkyGGBtcAL9tyN0NKHnAqn3Jd3aiwvzpnX39WvtcMrs2KTcRLe4qLvLLwq2hrvCUqJsdyANaXNLHTQVSHloeWL-614o1d5p9oNlCR0O4Gn7gzJurgCbaCZ2w8E1WgHJqeHPmdSbaV06GJ54QDNAkQ/s4032/IMG_4139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sPMhZ-1HTIkJp9yFLACVnD93oC4V_SbYHXtDQYkyGGBtcAL9tyN0NKHnAqn3Jd3aiwvzpnX39WvtcMrs2KTcRLe4qLvLLwq2hrvCUqJsdyANaXNLHTQVSHloeWL-614o1d5p9oNlCR0O4Gn7gzJurgCbaCZ2w8E1WgHJqeHPmdSbaV06GJ54QDNAkQ/w400-h300/IMG_4139.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>By the time we returned to Armena Laura had already started preparing dinner. We ate again under a canopy of green lit with little globes of amber light and a background of Tuscan hills now turning shades of violet, lilac and blue.<p></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-86285264083350828492022-05-12T15:34:00.000-05:002022-05-12T15:34:03.686-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, GOING SOLO<p> <span style="color: #45818e;">SOLO TRIPS</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhduzLvXZukUjmxW3BmSs7AVEkKCkKDgE_V8vmnRYBjMN_GKjb7dNEKmlzOyM0ack4atoS2ZB894gfDNIA6jHhc9F6Rk3E3HNZOaDdQh7m5GOYyCUXS7LXzlW0Bw1wgt3gQfsOtlYVVu_s77RwdnE1uB5slMz_SrUrfeR-_dVhXcoxo84Mt2s48UmCMdw/s4032/IMG_3962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhduzLvXZukUjmxW3BmSs7AVEkKCkKDgE_V8vmnRYBjMN_GKjb7dNEKmlzOyM0ack4atoS2ZB894gfDNIA6jHhc9F6Rk3E3HNZOaDdQh7m5GOYyCUXS7LXzlW0Bw1wgt3gQfsOtlYVVu_s77RwdnE1uB5slMz_SrUrfeR-_dVhXcoxo84Mt2s48UmCMdw/w300-h400/IMG_3962.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rising early seems to be something I have no control over. We had a dinner plan for the evening that included grilled steak. Giulio and Jacopo were to be the grill masters but someone had to go get the steaks. Guilio was working as a butcher at a local meat market but would only be working the early shift that day. Anticipating that no one would be able to get it together before it became an issue disrupting any other plans for the day,<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0L4s6FcC2YfLT9q3GRGMrZcLglWt0lyd9UCFv7T4DnNiSpGSMcnD1aRvYBD9qirI8cx4dOeURf2JZ696ZP_2eigzE9EcO0PAMTXDrMrz1Yx6NNnoDc24NrFFSVwmfzld7BnGvBUHjsKXIAV4a8fObnTrWH8YFXQwKwwgjpTT22jgfFZnpNkTScKwZQ/s4032/IMG_3963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0L4s6FcC2YfLT9q3GRGMrZcLglWt0lyd9UCFv7T4DnNiSpGSMcnD1aRvYBD9qirI8cx4dOeURf2JZ696ZP_2eigzE9EcO0PAMTXDrMrz1Yx6NNnoDc24NrFFSVwmfzld7BnGvBUHjsKXIAV4a8fObnTrWH8YFXQwKwwgjpTT22jgfFZnpNkTScKwZQ/w300-h400/IMG_3963.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I took it upon myself to hit the road before anyone else had stirred. I drove to the D'Piu in Monteroni d'Arbia where Giulo picked out the right steak for grilling and chopped off three hunks of prime beef large enough to serve thirteen<p></p><p>Despite my early errand run on my return indecision prevailed. Were we going to Pienza? Were we staying around the farm? Would Adam leave with the key? Would I strike out on my own? The only ones with a real plan were the Dutch and they stuck to it. Laura and Eric were going to Montepulciano and at ten they took off. By noon no was moving so Rick and JoHannah decided it was time to pull out what they could from the frigs for an impromptu lunch. Adam was not to be found and I decided it was time for me to bail and go off on my own.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6nYqZDbL300kskxnfigFoHSAZClXTarzbVb6Pz8wbQVGZgEitsRPNDHnIP0Zc3akGAnxDfT5BpbX2fLMWAR_wn_n8Io-H4QAyUd4AOfuijViIMVfcMjfX0ZO1gpTVRc0uaVcOHgmXZTLG77qu1WzEgsA9NL7xrt6SGK3OI0C4wx0CZNcn8_qIR7AJA/s4032/IMG_3980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6nYqZDbL300kskxnfigFoHSAZClXTarzbVb6Pz8wbQVGZgEitsRPNDHnIP0Zc3akGAnxDfT5BpbX2fLMWAR_wn_n8Io-H4QAyUd4AOfuijViIMVfcMjfX0ZO1gpTVRc0uaVcOHgmXZTLG77qu1WzEgsA9NL7xrt6SGK3OI0C4wx0CZNcn8_qIR7AJA/w300-h400/IMG_3980.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The original plan had been for Pienza and I began with that in mind until I reached the bottom of the hill. The main reason for choosing Pienza had been to act as tour guide for Adam and Roby, I had been there several times before. Since they weren't there at that decision point in the road I decided to go in the opposite direction and head towards Asciano, a town close by I had never seen.. I turned on the right-hand directional and off I went, knowing I could stop anywhere I wanted. There are advantages to traveling alone.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6r03rG9FkEg0PwcXJPx2Qm6WRDTFaq8sCNUR3p1YKICvkKSZCfj_uIynnegu2xGbL7Gd6E1wE1Ex4g9CBIJbLq3Ry7kJ7GCLHVRUwkrgkrW9nbx_7OGP0RAAng-PLzgjkcBZ5Hxs8c5BzvJfMnyOLc8c4JFgCJ2ARK5qnvv6ZzKXLK5f8DTQOMLhn0A/s4032/IMG_3976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6r03rG9FkEg0PwcXJPx2Qm6WRDTFaq8sCNUR3p1YKICvkKSZCfj_uIynnegu2xGbL7Gd6E1wE1Ex4g9CBIJbLq3Ry7kJ7GCLHVRUwkrgkrW9nbx_7OGP0RAAng-PLzgjkcBZ5Hxs8c5BzvJfMnyOLc8c4JFgCJ2ARK5qnvv6ZzKXLK5f8DTQOMLhn0A/w300-h400/IMG_3976.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The route to Asciano is almost completely uphill on windy shoulderless roads. I don't know if it was because of the time of day or the season when fewer tourists are about but over the 19 kilometers to Asciano I think I ran into fewer than five other vehicles going in the opposite direction. It gave me permission to pull as far to the side of the road as possible without having the car fall down a cliff or without having anyone scream at me to be careful.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ1TKx6ReIBXs2zqROoB3xnfvy8s2k30hEdvlvYlSiTG780flSbdvcU8aajAewp_PKxyJ8OEh-bN8SQrwkACsHHxfjEsth2e_m33TgLHc_vpRWQAaEtyZZny6A11_yEt6UGDu5upDiiRb2BdKjHZZLhpx3eQ05Zy22EdREnVnCATx3YkKCMipUgBdd-Q/s4032/IMG_3974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ1TKx6ReIBXs2zqROoB3xnfvy8s2k30hEdvlvYlSiTG780flSbdvcU8aajAewp_PKxyJ8OEh-bN8SQrwkACsHHxfjEsth2e_m33TgLHc_vpRWQAaEtyZZny6A11_yEt6UGDu5upDiiRb2BdKjHZZLhpx3eQ05Zy22EdREnVnCATx3YkKCMipUgBdd-Q/w300-h400/IMG_3974.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Photographing the countryside in Tuscany during spring reinforces the understanding that one color can not be described by one word alone.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP0kGXWp67U7DI3AV0aY5mw5WAmqPKwRsIiVVfsuccIAaRDuNDYnMAO-8cdewWOIDHkrwo6DJVhkUX4ro6HoMPt6mC9OlDsaOlc6KZ5bpArDf_Che1veHQUIQ802m-AFQ21bFtml8_JkDtv1BPeJfGPfvHVOFgwdlGkRKVykSoUfYHzY3JUyhZzf7Dw/s4032/IMG_4017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP0kGXWp67U7DI3AV0aY5mw5WAmqPKwRsIiVVfsuccIAaRDuNDYnMAO-8cdewWOIDHkrwo6DJVhkUX4ro6HoMPt6mC9OlDsaOlc6KZ5bpArDf_Che1veHQUIQ802m-AFQ21bFtml8_JkDtv1BPeJfGPfvHVOFgwdlGkRKVykSoUfYHzY3JUyhZzf7Dw/w300-h400/IMG_4017.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>To say the vistas were green doesn't do the descriptive powers of words justice to what lay before me. Green is more than one word here. It's lush, it's heathered, it's chartreuse, it's melon, it's an undulating blanket, it's forest, it's oak, it's ivy, it's white wine. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkbM89tE8LSeqnkMwKkHSWQ5Mdpam4naZ8q7xrXRYp2fVuPO_Lc2Oeho3joEmcqPk7SuAPZgwkJng29XcP4o__2WVhrA4Wr7u6Z8Be1zD_Pe-9buVR-wX0i1XBnX60NVYzHpAuvTNV45HANoB5usLFEGi3LYFFGpX358uMPre1IBhNHziIdkPfQr9zg/s4032/IMG_3981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkbM89tE8LSeqnkMwKkHSWQ5Mdpam4naZ8q7xrXRYp2fVuPO_Lc2Oeho3joEmcqPk7SuAPZgwkJng29XcP4o__2WVhrA4Wr7u6Z8Be1zD_Pe-9buVR-wX0i1XBnX60NVYzHpAuvTNV45HANoB5usLFEGi3LYFFGpX358uMPre1IBhNHziIdkPfQr9zg/w300-h400/IMG_3981.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Asciano is much like many of the small towns surrounding us in Tuscany. It's history is triple the length of our American history.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BMOf1aCXJao_jprX_23M-hLZFPNHKjGNUUqspgfHXgyQAH_tH5L8HHHSgBDFRvail-fvP-qyQhpe9Y6k8ZSAOB2vZindl97Nx4paJaTmYmGXFsIgJDo1R4Koht8KP8NvLlLkRB-w314BMjYHXdcjzjqpXPZSh22EMlEB_0Jes1jr6jpD15sRkSFDvQ/s4032/IMG_3985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BMOf1aCXJao_jprX_23M-hLZFPNHKjGNUUqspgfHXgyQAH_tH5L8HHHSgBDFRvail-fvP-qyQhpe9Y6k8ZSAOB2vZindl97Nx4paJaTmYmGXFsIgJDo1R4Koht8KP8NvLlLkRB-w314BMjYHXdcjzjqpXPZSh22EMlEB_0Jes1jr6jpD15sRkSFDvQ/w300-h400/IMG_3985.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It was once fortified but it now rests peacefully with an old town center, a smattering of brutalist buildings dating back to the Mussolini time period and a belt of more current buildings of insignificant description.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLYXNIRwS-pYSfHZ392s_v1ln4I79Z2viBamldhVnokdwIwXUG7MuQFPOktUqDODvqf_xQlaEjj-Q6rO_oK85wYpR0wd4CdMtH2uHvN3PGIydsCsayW-inR7zBEXMYDHPLZ4axVV8Rzz_7Sf0DAtU3iDBnGYET2SSiDlV2C5cZDJuo66xve_Et3eCOQ/s4032/IMG_3980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLYXNIRwS-pYSfHZ392s_v1ln4I79Z2viBamldhVnokdwIwXUG7MuQFPOktUqDODvqf_xQlaEjj-Q6rO_oK85wYpR0wd4CdMtH2uHvN3PGIydsCsayW-inR7zBEXMYDHPLZ4axVV8Rzz_7Sf0DAtU3iDBnGYET2SSiDlV2C5cZDJuo66xve_Et3eCOQ/w300-h400/IMG_3980.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The center of the old town can mostly be described as soft. The buildings are very pastel and almost tropical. Details on many of the buildings are not built in to the structure but painted on in a trompe l'oeil fashion. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATXczLMD1XL3jhUZfeWhTbIbuFDnFSsnfJY90Dg22L28RthZB_nx0odPJYF2Fgv4B8kYZFim8MJ_z-2CGBqfBr6jD3c5ZG12hVP7mzJWUJ9JJrCY9Zn38xZ711UO8MfB61aGffZ_Lip1yiH5nY1mLJGeUAB2DmXgEYGw3r2Q7V4AZzd-BQ-V07Qf2SA/s4032/IMG_3983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATXczLMD1XL3jhUZfeWhTbIbuFDnFSsnfJY90Dg22L28RthZB_nx0odPJYF2Fgv4B8kYZFim8MJ_z-2CGBqfBr6jD3c5ZG12hVP7mzJWUJ9JJrCY9Zn38xZ711UO8MfB61aGffZ_Lip1yiH5nY1mLJGeUAB2DmXgEYGw3r2Q7V4AZzd-BQ-V07Qf2SA/w300-h400/IMG_3983.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The contrast comes with a chill when you see the largest structures in town remaining from the second world war time in Italy. It was a reminder of what can happen when autocracy tries to prevail. I didn't want to spend a whole lot of time in Asciano. I had arrived at the time when most places were closed and none of the restaurants were appealing. Given not much more to do I walked back the way I came and got back in the car<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLRKb0p8Y54wdRxOC8wshKInDqkDEzJQ8pFADm2D9sxwc8BrRvMZCQne4R-gZTJftO8Wwmn1LMo_Pr15JXZqXHiICoY74cVs0tneSxCwkyT-yeaGnyYmo-k_bTjaV_bK30bMkQDNCYfkAHgNbcVLaSzC9TxwKFVWG6-vc-U8ow3nsP05rs0I1_Z6GTg/s4032/IMG_3997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLRKb0p8Y54wdRxOC8wshKInDqkDEzJQ8pFADm2D9sxwc8BrRvMZCQne4R-gZTJftO8Wwmn1LMo_Pr15JXZqXHiICoY74cVs0tneSxCwkyT-yeaGnyYmo-k_bTjaV_bK30bMkQDNCYfkAHgNbcVLaSzC9TxwKFVWG6-vc-U8ow3nsP05rs0I1_Z6GTg/w300-h400/IMG_3997.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />I decided to head back to Armena on the same road I had traveled to make sure I didn't get lost then make a stop at the Abbazia di Monte Oliveto Maggiore about halfway back to the farm. We had been here once before on Christmas Eve and stepped into the church to listen to a part of the Christmas mass but we hadn't wondered any further into complex. <p></p><p>Discovering the cloisters on my own was, if not a religious experience, a spiritual one.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiSeNioelePxpLJFaPvyR-PNMQv5zKXaJRWlScjbheR9Cic1zigKSUWDp1u5aZ_veez-L6VHwltd1ZddJqbY0HdjJ3bRXReAVNR8gGXvtCkQIjnY-d3FX3muJrQ6zQlhUSp1yJv_hz0MEoYuNq5i6dWwTidY8eg3sUeqD5Vlp2kDkEtDR4fiC6HuQLA/s4032/IMG_3998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiSeNioelePxpLJFaPvyR-PNMQv5zKXaJRWlScjbheR9Cic1zigKSUWDp1u5aZ_veez-L6VHwltd1ZddJqbY0HdjJ3bRXReAVNR8gGXvtCkQIjnY-d3FX3muJrQ6zQlhUSp1yJv_hz0MEoYuNq5i6dWwTidY8eg3sUeqD5Vlp2kDkEtDR4fiC6HuQLA/w300-h400/IMG_3998.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The walls and ceilings throughout are adorned with frescos. Colonnades depicting the life of St Benedict surround a central courtyard. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdnJFuNWXOgwhMKHXGWs14od5VfiNLJ3HuX5ycuoJELSnPL4sNjJlZpr6E7_QV7w4riD0be3kg4qFMLMtZf8w_r1NHHvCfYPYamtg0ahvpB7ItLAQwHVn-kPoBNak3zPVuMT1CwX2Uo2ib_8hnAby5VUJL5YfoCBqSttnWymtPGUqacrO-svyzhgKLNQ/s4032/IMG_4014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdnJFuNWXOgwhMKHXGWs14od5VfiNLJ3HuX5ycuoJELSnPL4sNjJlZpr6E7_QV7w4riD0be3kg4qFMLMtZf8w_r1NHHvCfYPYamtg0ahvpB7ItLAQwHVn-kPoBNak3zPVuMT1CwX2Uo2ib_8hnAby5VUJL5YfoCBqSttnWymtPGUqacrO-svyzhgKLNQ/w300-h400/IMG_4014.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>You have to look closely and not be overwhelmed by the frescos to find an opening leading to other areas open for exploration.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RdCkmIlx3gQci3bNMX3Fqq0MES-rUyJ6t4savb84XhpBy5HmxKK138ob92I5mpIPQYSsmwa0iEewKCJuz_E9EOcyycqM58ZecZcOUjlqLEX4aC6bCZGPdZ1qqyJkhVWQFYT3msUxeohcTc4EK32ZiBsPkonSTjo4E3qSp2ix-vTUo8NT_uqB9WK2BQ/s4032/IMG_4007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RdCkmIlx3gQci3bNMX3Fqq0MES-rUyJ6t4savb84XhpBy5HmxKK138ob92I5mpIPQYSsmwa0iEewKCJuz_E9EOcyycqM58ZecZcOUjlqLEX4aC6bCZGPdZ1qqyJkhVWQFYT3msUxeohcTc4EK32ZiBsPkonSTjo4E3qSp2ix-vTUo8NT_uqB9WK2BQ/w300-h400/IMG_4007.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>That's how I found my way to the library, one of the most beautiful libraries I've ever seen. The open hall lined with bookcases containing century old manuscripts on everything from cooking recipes to medicinal remedies.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSgcYiw551enhyEnd-zewS_6Grv50uTA__cOslLwYFyZtRezZht6ADXxiuXjujrIgacLu-_ifksSm4_ZJGc-2kPlOo2HJPdtx2kWWNfx08GZZPbz8hJqSatpRf3l75jgx9jKSQwa9o83VKUZxTBZd5jSVTWE5vSAKCWOwYJv33W1ZFF8J1tzEvlqPPQ/s4032/IMG_4010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSgcYiw551enhyEnd-zewS_6Grv50uTA__cOslLwYFyZtRezZht6ADXxiuXjujrIgacLu-_ifksSm4_ZJGc-2kPlOo2HJPdtx2kWWNfx08GZZPbz8hJqSatpRf3l75jgx9jKSQwa9o83VKUZxTBZd5jSVTWE5vSAKCWOwYJv33W1ZFF8J1tzEvlqPPQ/w400-h300/IMG_4010.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Beyond the rows of books there's a staircase leading up to what used to be the pharmacy. The remaining artifacts of the pharmacy are still on display through the beauty of the ceramic containers for the medicinal ingredients to glass beakers looking like a mad scientist's laboratory.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzdPisN99DOfRwviCpShOdm0QWYM_3cHo7yhu9Q8HM7RVxFBGUcr15mkw914pXY3XGGwXniCayz4-xhwY6caomAn_zA5zfpMePlajZ4Lx9WLDUKMw9J1xqqj-t-Y15U575pZmbzzC8xIZqxoVYIj8nmJy1oRj-eJPCZkrO_FuNW4aTQrpqqBRBoE-mA/s4032/IMG_4027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzdPisN99DOfRwviCpShOdm0QWYM_3cHo7yhu9Q8HM7RVxFBGUcr15mkw914pXY3XGGwXniCayz4-xhwY6caomAn_zA5zfpMePlajZ4Lx9WLDUKMw9J1xqqj-t-Y15U575pZmbzzC8xIZqxoVYIj8nmJy1oRj-eJPCZkrO_FuNW4aTQrpqqBRBoE-mA/w300-h400/IMG_4027.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>When I returned Emmy and I took a quick run back to Buonconvento to order her bag from Pianigiani. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjc2P0-dI0G92aCeuuDbOcWoNgHtP5jmvN_PdOu6PlTsDQSpHeNviOTJ2ttHJn7WxIH1ZysEOW_PDY479jg3FrSxi2P84Pusz51HDXXXQWqNdDMNDJ87O9uwCl2aZ9-hAfhQgm1C8MxJ9ItykwjWcLNsVN206Vm2BaJeY3FlGCN0Jzw4X4-wdJdwl1sw/s4032/IMG_4031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjc2P0-dI0G92aCeuuDbOcWoNgHtP5jmvN_PdOu6PlTsDQSpHeNviOTJ2ttHJn7WxIH1ZysEOW_PDY479jg3FrSxi2P84Pusz51HDXXXQWqNdDMNDJ87O9uwCl2aZ9-hAfhQgm1C8MxJ9ItykwjWcLNsVN206Vm2BaJeY3FlGCN0Jzw4X4-wdJdwl1sw/w300-h400/IMG_4031.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>As we were leaving the center of Buonconvento we spotted Giulia standing outside her flower shop looking as beautiful as the flowers surrounding her. Giulia is the girlfriend of Jacopo the Saraceni's older son and an entrepreneur in her mid-twenties taking on the challenge of opening her own store. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rUSf06F2oF2GHzeiW1nw-ZRAqydUPP7ccTO0Q1A8MnK7LjwyEgVbLG8IF2dHTUxa17lO9ywtlL3SE0zrKiZpBUkYtNzjzl6dcvZRgao5OyYUZ_GJE3nktjNixIDu9JjwAovuikO6Eq0Ef_gkFqWquzMzrR3tVZ3FouKO84UYdL0fgLjx3tkYSYWAMQ/s4032/IMG_4035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rUSf06F2oF2GHzeiW1nw-ZRAqydUPP7ccTO0Q1A8MnK7LjwyEgVbLG8IF2dHTUxa17lO9ywtlL3SE0zrKiZpBUkYtNzjzl6dcvZRgao5OyYUZ_GJE3nktjNixIDu9JjwAovuikO6Eq0Ef_gkFqWquzMzrR3tVZ3FouKO84UYdL0fgLjx3tkYSYWAMQ/w300-h400/IMG_4035.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Back at the farm there was little relaxing, as dinner prep is always an event. Dusk was on us before the table was set putting the dinner hour closer to ten for the evening. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_rLeK0_o0Hu3BoTnKbiIZI088rG3tqN7j-PgfVY6mnxvanPjorv6TLGb3JvVESFZnm2nBdD5lVzAUAECXxKXqX57Gt3qi8KiwPzHQsD-PVetjzXSNRxOFwt46SPMjm9oxD2RKK34NAROOpp3rf1VrWB-5VYupFovVvTOUuUVtssXM0pm_ayms-BPig/s4032/IMG_4038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_rLeK0_o0Hu3BoTnKbiIZI088rG3tqN7j-PgfVY6mnxvanPjorv6TLGb3JvVESFZnm2nBdD5lVzAUAECXxKXqX57Gt3qi8KiwPzHQsD-PVetjzXSNRxOFwt46SPMjm9oxD2RKK34NAROOpp3rf1VrWB-5VYupFovVvTOUuUVtssXM0pm_ayms-BPig/w300-h400/IMG_4038.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The steaks had been marinating all day in a sauce Rick had prepared. Alessandro had split the wood for the grill to cook the steaks. Once the fire was roaring Giulio began pulling the embers to go under the grill. There was a real art to this preparation ritual.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgK6qibOTqWtOfrpDmeco3J8XbEBagCLF9U_Q0RGSh7UR1N-ECWtnGlvQAHgq_GbvOmq6XtrtYfZ5fTytU9XZUeu_tRMueZwLVRBvi4vHEx-Z222t0jneTZvk73ipi3kwsYhT-oQJ53clS2I-0fgyqcdg_Ft3-1wmvLrMNqDsRFmYNqvQwKqJktLHqQ/s4032/IMG_4043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgK6qibOTqWtOfrpDmeco3J8XbEBagCLF9U_Q0RGSh7UR1N-ECWtnGlvQAHgq_GbvOmq6XtrtYfZ5fTytU9XZUeu_tRMueZwLVRBvi4vHEx-Z222t0jneTZvk73ipi3kwsYhT-oQJ53clS2I-0fgyqcdg_Ft3-1wmvLrMNqDsRFmYNqvQwKqJktLHqQ/w300-h400/IMG_4043.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The meal was once again spectacular beginning with a pasta ragu and caprese. The steaks were the main event served alongside roasted zucchini and eggplant.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAdA2S4phVK7q00I0neAtU7AYa4cAoQknP9uGOxMsIeQCGkibI1mlZoHiPNDFtRjzJYcPRhzMkAWjcqZBEmq4X3oINy_SBBfGkPS6WTg8fe2mobUtUXfiGZT4Ki5OpzsfsH02hLfYhGZUkizUX2FPrzJ8Tf3VxNk65N0dgOgYcNbtz0ivFamnMT0tvA/s4032/IMG_4046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAdA2S4phVK7q00I0neAtU7AYa4cAoQknP9uGOxMsIeQCGkibI1mlZoHiPNDFtRjzJYcPRhzMkAWjcqZBEmq4X3oINy_SBBfGkPS6WTg8fe2mobUtUXfiGZT4Ki5OpzsfsH02hLfYhGZUkizUX2FPrzJ8Tf3VxNk65N0dgOgYcNbtz0ivFamnMT0tvA/w300-h400/IMG_4046.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It was perfection on a plate taking Rick all the way to gnawing the bone.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7Hp5ZQcxQlL7usfVg5uisogK6RfdINFGBPvfK1rLCitgx2wpo6IG5QUi7uX6Dbpfmb3jAcsgcPmJoWsDKzHJXB6DyMFTOZkYj1_rcVwzTCa3hvSfzzYcGKOJmVY8IO54nxgIbGg8HMJ1qwlG5EAMrRC1aS38Pv6gnu1C5McorhB6Uv1BDjsxamq3gQ/s4032/IMG_4067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7Hp5ZQcxQlL7usfVg5uisogK6RfdINFGBPvfK1rLCitgx2wpo6IG5QUi7uX6Dbpfmb3jAcsgcPmJoWsDKzHJXB6DyMFTOZkYj1_rcVwzTCa3hvSfzzYcGKOJmVY8IO54nxgIbGg8HMJ1qwlG5EAMrRC1aS38Pv6gnu1C5McorhB6Uv1BDjsxamq3gQ/w300-h400/IMG_4067.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>With the wine flowing along with the conversation well into the night somewhere in time we sent Jacopo into town for a gelato infusion. Alessandro showed everyone how to finish a meal.Nobody can say we don't have fun.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-35924768840909168422022-05-11T13:28:00.003-05:002022-05-12T15:40:44.630-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, THE DAY AFTER THE BIRTHDAY<p><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> A BIRTHDAY EXTENDED</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNX-QsPmhgGxUOiJhtDAjQoEoDpwW0cJOXgT2Zy4mRtUgL7RIaLOgxveQhjw2coIaEZ1E_d4rkohFGVIp5hnlvWQz2H2RPeQQ3hTjZzANxPROgXpwCMBVPiq7A2deoz4ybxSIhknA0WuA7Ea25znCBxyxz0qjRwBxxrDUBPlqJcv5YST2lS6vluAG0hw/s4032/IMG_3875.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNX-QsPmhgGxUOiJhtDAjQoEoDpwW0cJOXgT2Zy4mRtUgL7RIaLOgxveQhjw2coIaEZ1E_d4rkohFGVIp5hnlvWQz2H2RPeQQ3hTjZzANxPROgXpwCMBVPiq7A2deoz4ybxSIhknA0WuA7Ea25znCBxyxz0qjRwBxxrDUBPlqJcv5YST2lS6vluAG0hw/w300-h400/IMG_3875.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I've been light sensitive my entire life. I call it the thin eyelid syndrome to explain why I sleep longer in the winter than I do in the summer. Sunlight is like a cock's crow for me. The light wakes me up and once I'm awake it's pointless to try to get back to sleep. Even though last night's celebrations had gone well past the witching hour, this morning's dawn light magnified it's power with a blanket of pure white fog giving me no opportunity to find again the darkness of sleep. The brilliance of the sun's power reflected off the dense fog was more than I could withstand.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJs_C2h-1u86I2RA80MynddY5pkNZawHwBOxSxgYydPSyhqWsYIk6OfesTrU-7h4c4O1SbWJv5yTK1Yoi4DQ7OUQn49GaigXOHVmEni09shUFCMV7WhoOSVxGOH_fPjPiX8BPmty-IJg5yXVI82IOXM0o7uEK9zl1gARthsrtCjUsSQ4N4pZXuYmhzg/s4032/IMG_3878.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJs_C2h-1u86I2RA80MynddY5pkNZawHwBOxSxgYydPSyhqWsYIk6OfesTrU-7h4c4O1SbWJv5yTK1Yoi4DQ7OUQn49GaigXOHVmEni09shUFCMV7WhoOSVxGOH_fPjPiX8BPmty-IJg5yXVI82IOXM0o7uEK9zl1gARthsrtCjUsSQ4N4pZXuYmhzg/w300-h400/IMG_3878.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I knew I would probably be the only up making anything other than my pajamas necessary to go out on the patio overlooking the valley where I could watch as the fog slowly burnt off. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBG5dRcGsWnZ5CEDKebwi8x3QU176XMZc-3zF8CLWVY_PxVtbVWd68L6OX8o5ylheF7qFkNRKM02Q2YLG4SjB_yQIjbHn3ylRsi-3kh6Wxfq2Zif56kbDht35Um3Z1jIYj7wd0N8ID4JOTY9lxnyBjx0n6_YfEW2HSZOhozwKoR6P_WzmuHB5OzQrZw/s4032/IMG_3869.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBG5dRcGsWnZ5CEDKebwi8x3QU176XMZc-3zF8CLWVY_PxVtbVWd68L6OX8o5ylheF7qFkNRKM02Q2YLG4SjB_yQIjbHn3ylRsi-3kh6Wxfq2Zif56kbDht35Um3Z1jIYj7wd0N8ID4JOTY9lxnyBjx0n6_YfEW2HSZOhozwKoR6P_WzmuHB5OzQrZw/w300-h400/IMG_3869.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The original plan for the day had been to have everyone in their cars by ten and on the SS2 to Siena. Under the influence of last night's alcohol we asked Alessandro to make a reservation for us at the famous Bogago restaurant in Siena, a two o'clock reservation for eight. That morning guests slowly started to rumble and one by one started pouring cups of coffee and finding seats in the sun. No one seemed to want to take the role of leader and organize the exit. By close to noon Rick, Emmy and JoHannah had decided to bail and the rest of us divided into two cars leaving a third car back at the farm for the three unable to find the energy to even fain interest. Mathematics struck again, this time involving keys and remotes. Each apartment had a front door key and a remote for unlocking the iron gates allowing them egress and re-entry from their property. Each car, obviously, also had it's own ignition key. The problem was since Laura and Eric were staying in the same apartment as JoHannah, Roby and Adam, although having their own car keys they were both sharing a gate opener. Stefania and Alessandro had escaped the disorganization and already left for their various appointments. When we were ready to leave it was decided that Eric and Laura would leave with their car, car key and gate opener and Adam, Roby and I would leave in Adam's car, Adam being the only one who could drive it because it was a stick due to the rental confusion back in Rome. This left Rick, Johannah and Emmy with our car, car key and remote opener for our gate. Eric and Laura left first. Does anyone else see the math problem here? Adam, Roby and I had a car and car key but no gate opener. We couldn't switch cars since Adam was the one of us who knew how to drive a stick. We were prisoners locked up in heaven. Finally after a few phone calls to Stefania she was able to get ahold of her cleaning woman and had her come up to unlock the gate for us so we could escape. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINcSq83GLfGXKTHx_mbrwEQkaPLw1h3cKACW-bUmKPDQz8JIxYiPy5v0S_nGfBGFYihLnQJ_kNBCJtNe5IEkXvA35yzOM_ZXWunuoFKLWrQKIzoaeA0Qu9NTr9e0Ex8If2-YOoMwqV06Qw7yfUU7yfRJbwGrRAuorBlTLKBtXZOw83uR1YO6nbfvFfQ/s4032/IMG_3915.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINcSq83GLfGXKTHx_mbrwEQkaPLw1h3cKACW-bUmKPDQz8JIxYiPy5v0S_nGfBGFYihLnQJ_kNBCJtNe5IEkXvA35yzOM_ZXWunuoFKLWrQKIzoaeA0Qu9NTr9e0Ex8If2-YOoMwqV06Qw7yfUU7yfRJbwGrRAuorBlTLKBtXZOw83uR1YO6nbfvFfQ/w300-h400/IMG_3915.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Siena was a student of architecture's dream. For Adam this meant wondering the city his eye attached to his camera photographing details and storing memories of architectural history in his already extensive cerebral encyclopedia. For Roby it was gelato.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3qW7FkKF-ob8hyfyU0ZygisecRujq4O9BdFP6StPWG9lREg3j-X3kIfRKwGZ_c_18-Ksgt6hVfHnpdkRYBufK5YgM8c27hvBg4zIVVt4SGCoN7cM_sghYS9OHgfwp2CD93jnXiCtjpC5bPE3_eZx4EUw0h9InHxaQWtcNVJQ5ECXzt5nwJrItQLn0Q/s4032/IMG_3914.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3qW7FkKF-ob8hyfyU0ZygisecRujq4O9BdFP6StPWG9lREg3j-X3kIfRKwGZ_c_18-Ksgt6hVfHnpdkRYBufK5YgM8c27hvBg4zIVVt4SGCoN7cM_sghYS9OHgfwp2CD93jnXiCtjpC5bPE3_eZx4EUw0h9InHxaQWtcNVJQ5ECXzt5nwJrItQLn0Q/w300-h400/IMG_3914.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>For me it was walking the curving streets without a GPS available on my phone nor a map in hand. I had until two o'clock to find the restaurant, an hour and fifteen minutes. It shouldn't have been a problem but of course it was. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aQJRXXATesJIcZT22tlda-10C8fFCds06lb-LzK_9Ux22ZRCTNkeFUaBPYB0FUlqC9nEvYyXE0u89kNy_2jLyaorBDTnCksfnciP4IpbQNR3T2QOHFJBdlZdU1IJFWOwW2WM0xybSUtlu1qVgUdlnaM2vCHPWZcZdsZIfHYDEo-uZxlTqbSW2lb0KA/s4032/IMG_3903.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aQJRXXATesJIcZT22tlda-10C8fFCds06lb-LzK_9Ux22ZRCTNkeFUaBPYB0FUlqC9nEvYyXE0u89kNy_2jLyaorBDTnCksfnciP4IpbQNR3T2QOHFJBdlZdU1IJFWOwW2WM0xybSUtlu1qVgUdlnaM2vCHPWZcZdsZIfHYDEo-uZxlTqbSW2lb0KA/w300-h400/IMG_3903.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The restaurant was supposed to be near the Duomo, an easy architectural icon to spot, on the via della Galluzza. Using my nose to point me in the right direction I circled the Duomo and kept circling the Duomo, a feat not to be attempted by the physically impaired. The terrain of Siena is anything but flat.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyUZnWOQzySQDHnImNoFyUEiSabssKfPDzs2BkqO8iEJ47vG_T9kAYily1VzsX9xzNqpMqr4jp07AKzr8jJGM7SjiNOnmnLedbJ7XAMso4cxe74Vf1coxvUKJuhXFjLgOdlRwiHXKwxlZ9gesV4e8gVhhX2EwhMlwy5a3vr_5OeyMWhLro68mQVeadg/s4032/IMG_3911.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyUZnWOQzySQDHnImNoFyUEiSabssKfPDzs2BkqO8iEJ47vG_T9kAYily1VzsX9xzNqpMqr4jp07AKzr8jJGM7SjiNOnmnLedbJ7XAMso4cxe74Vf1coxvUKJuhXFjLgOdlRwiHXKwxlZ9gesV4e8gVhhX2EwhMlwy5a3vr_5OeyMWhLro68mQVeadg/w300-h400/IMG_3911.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I counted over ninety steps on one side of the Duomo and a slope so steep you had to hug the wall for fear of side down it on the other side, an option I considered on the third time around. Finally I stopped at a hotel and asked for a map that the concierge was happy to give me but when I tried to ask him to locate the via della Galluzza he was more confused then I was. By now I was almost 20 minutes late, sweaty, something I try to avoid at all costs, and still unable to find the restaurant. When all else fails an unmanly cry out for help is the last resort. I stopped a shopkeeper and finally someone pointed me in the right direction, a right out the door then a left down a roller coaster of a street and there it was. I now have the strongest calves of anyone I know.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_mElK__IZFWDd2zHPhT8qGIG_XOWS4FtHFwanZMu-D7Xp4dyScTYtnhCuX6o-58m9LM3aElBE_JBI2OELuHVm1tlNQ6MaBdCCMETXVc0BO1LjFrHwud1kN5R0hRu1dN0QKJP7xQdP9HFS7qWghYbToa0DikXXyG7kt4DgMfiOgyMM-YMjvn-U8OukQ/s4032/IMG_3905.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_mElK__IZFWDd2zHPhT8qGIG_XOWS4FtHFwanZMu-D7Xp4dyScTYtnhCuX6o-58m9LM3aElBE_JBI2OELuHVm1tlNQ6MaBdCCMETXVc0BO1LjFrHwud1kN5R0hRu1dN0QKJP7xQdP9HFS7qWghYbToa0DikXXyG7kt4DgMfiOgyMM-YMjvn-U8OukQ/w400-h300/IMG_3905.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Lunch was a bit of a disappointment but I wanted to eat light. My baked cheese pie with a cream and walnut sauce was plenty and it was fine.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0c42rx_6a35oWcUzN6jnloXT0gdfzYqeGB4GePtnS2vli6UJ-7MD-Ag9GHgqUMY3FLDCRO6ljz210sN22YiBOGEdLyoql76M2udFphRceditNUZkSfVRDZXXIGYLNINfXSFYVwJzuL6LI7M8iLo7A4woTy3If4aOXEItB8Bt46UD_VbYIk5fsJRQTA/s4032/IMG_3901.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0c42rx_6a35oWcUzN6jnloXT0gdfzYqeGB4GePtnS2vli6UJ-7MD-Ag9GHgqUMY3FLDCRO6ljz210sN22YiBOGEdLyoql76M2udFphRceditNUZkSfVRDZXXIGYLNINfXSFYVwJzuL6LI7M8iLo7A4woTy3If4aOXEItB8Bt46UD_VbYIk5fsJRQTA/w300-h400/IMG_3901.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After lunch we did a quick tour of a few more streets, picked up the obligatory gelato and headed on home.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-CeqAXwUo5fy1WIkM1r6OYRaBl4E7ugoCufWN5YitEsa9-5rMjf1F45dI6pCTMKO_g_Uj6ZQt9PQVOjOMaDLQqHUHzs3nNQtiSk-AmNYAIlkzvwXAxr4B471ztAv_Y1T6V1uEElI3bJPBuK8nHxNPBk8EXTnt85RgLpZQ9DoiIATY3GUiyIxwt5-Kg/s3024/image_50448385.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2618" data-original-width="3024" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-CeqAXwUo5fy1WIkM1r6OYRaBl4E7ugoCufWN5YitEsa9-5rMjf1F45dI6pCTMKO_g_Uj6ZQt9PQVOjOMaDLQqHUHzs3nNQtiSk-AmNYAIlkzvwXAxr4B471ztAv_Y1T6V1uEElI3bJPBuK8nHxNPBk8EXTnt85RgLpZQ9DoiIATY3GUiyIxwt5-Kg/w400-h346/image_50448385.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Rick, missed his gift opening the night before falling asleep before we had a chance to pass out our gifts. Today we reconvened around the outdoor dining area and gave him his opportunity to have his day.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8n115rdA8CKAMtydnV4G-VyBRWQFz0CL47Zp92fRk75qJfNeGguezioDkrEUet-ytUXnMJ3TZxrk0FlbjMyyDkqswKkHvhUvzv5Q6svvaZIjWDk_g3x1HZTq2XSHTHHIol4tzZbw_p9n-HW5mmVWtdB5-7ceuZBZo1RZmKoz-ehRJxXsHnEohkL7kA/s4032/IMG_4021.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8n115rdA8CKAMtydnV4G-VyBRWQFz0CL47Zp92fRk75qJfNeGguezioDkrEUet-ytUXnMJ3TZxrk0FlbjMyyDkqswKkHvhUvzv5Q6svvaZIjWDk_g3x1HZTq2XSHTHHIol4tzZbw_p9n-HW5mmVWtdB5-7ceuZBZo1RZmKoz-ehRJxXsHnEohkL7kA/w300-h400/IMG_4021.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>There was glassware from Holland, leather from Italy, ceramics picked up in Rome, a spa day in Bagno Vignoni and a mended jacket that had a moth hole I darned closed for him as my gift.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneBci-G8u5j7-DBzXUoOhkdjFrtq5OrELDtgyOnhbEaXmPX4Dqq-5tijXYjjGWZFmyMlg3v3i0HkrGkE0WxpPn6X2Lu7kyQh-tQBAogaRj_FmmrreaeSSn4HVLu_Mg0F6bEnDgbHjSUqDPU-85yfz9rD0ehKa_97QY-2HsDDeeOMuaYXedsvxmt0R2A/s4032/IMG_3922.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneBci-G8u5j7-DBzXUoOhkdjFrtq5OrELDtgyOnhbEaXmPX4Dqq-5tijXYjjGWZFmyMlg3v3i0HkrGkE0WxpPn6X2Lu7kyQh-tQBAogaRj_FmmrreaeSSn4HVLu_Mg0F6bEnDgbHjSUqDPU-85yfz9rD0ehKa_97QY-2HsDDeeOMuaYXedsvxmt0R2A/w400-h300/IMG_3922.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>What's a day in Armena without a massive dinner and a beautiful sunset? This night was no exception.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmg6GkGonaVSpxnkWgFXolCyv9f-wzFBZhJbHf0RjAwTA4o2a-Uf7tGSF4dzWTD2CEQY_7iwkouv7PIc21h9UjSgP2qPeD95kVX8rXXYVitCt_N0CC-SqyPmN2wMxCwKPWWQpolCwZ6M3EGjmgiBnOHfrK82Qv_1whAmbOSeUW1qd_HzF3VF2-zO8zw/s4032/IMG_3944.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmg6GkGonaVSpxnkWgFXolCyv9f-wzFBZhJbHf0RjAwTA4o2a-Uf7tGSF4dzWTD2CEQY_7iwkouv7PIc21h9UjSgP2qPeD95kVX8rXXYVitCt_N0CC-SqyPmN2wMxCwKPWWQpolCwZ6M3EGjmgiBnOHfrK82Qv_1whAmbOSeUW1qd_HzF3VF2-zO8zw/w300-h400/IMG_3944.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick and JoHannah wanted to learn how to make Laura's pasta with mushrooms and zucchini. Cooking lessons were held in the apartment's kitchen and served on the veranda at nine,<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwO6u_PFd9bR-mVpOUwjE65qpXU27nNcO2ljCS8gzpZzIyW1jafnhFVKZXsAkOh81ik68TP0n0XeoYv-FxUIc_h-wzYCipQUppt5RF1fOFjFmV7FJEDAWg80em57msDtKjW4uTPHGXx2PPNOB05BaMyGfFdzyXt_8jqQnkzdj2wklS-R-YneagVY046Q/s4032/IMG_3953.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwO6u_PFd9bR-mVpOUwjE65qpXU27nNcO2ljCS8gzpZzIyW1jafnhFVKZXsAkOh81ik68TP0n0XeoYv-FxUIc_h-wzYCipQUppt5RF1fOFjFmV7FJEDAWg80em57msDtKjW4uTPHGXx2PPNOB05BaMyGfFdzyXt_8jqQnkzdj2wklS-R-YneagVY046Q/w300-h400/IMG_3953.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>a civil European time to dine. Bon appetito!<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-89148687034511462512022-05-10T13:48:00.002-05:002022-05-11T05:46:11.386-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, DAY 6, THE BIRTHDAY<p>SURPRISES NEVER WORK</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit42_iOqsTAY6rEk9Y6AI_vJ3Ken2qYWYyZWkNs0-hJTihsmYWwuaKgz2Hl29UbBjZswQvkIIoraGzqQzyLRslIleICHGzGTaDpkMJB340Ky6vDXBYju2DIb-2K7tXHomJnNQB_u_LHy_UNWRu_sQhz1aVH5DVuV73vhm7m-k437toyVp02k7q37FN_Q/s4032/IMG_3883.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit42_iOqsTAY6rEk9Y6AI_vJ3Ken2qYWYyZWkNs0-hJTihsmYWwuaKgz2Hl29UbBjZswQvkIIoraGzqQzyLRslIleICHGzGTaDpkMJB340Ky6vDXBYju2DIb-2K7tXHomJnNQB_u_LHy_UNWRu_sQhz1aVH5DVuV73vhm7m-k437toyVp02k7q37FN_Q/w300-h400/IMG_3883.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The plan was concocted in the evening somewhere between the third and fourth bottles of wine. JoHannah was to offer to take Rick out for breakfast the following morning. We were to go to Montalcino at ten and then come back to the farm a couple of hours later. During our absence Laura and Stefania were going to deck the outside patio in balloons and banners as a surprise to kick off Rick's birthday. We would then have the afternoon and plenty of time to prepare for his birthday dinner at Boccon di Vino back in Montalcino. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjo8rtl8LzWsJQEFqr3MxaAHqM8i-sdC2iqsolKPY6IxohTMaubbgfJ64305X2Vq4XzXEgCPMmVnrqZUBnfFk8JTP7biIsp0moK39IiP_A8ufau2teWXpsYJkuJRqbwJJSstcGAgBM_fAR-j6EMdtN5fmbgrUuj_EkDtzAYtZrjgBn2xzD5-WAWlBGw/s4032/IMG_3802.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjo8rtl8LzWsJQEFqr3MxaAHqM8i-sdC2iqsolKPY6IxohTMaubbgfJ64305X2Vq4XzXEgCPMmVnrqZUBnfFk8JTP7biIsp0moK39IiP_A8ufau2teWXpsYJkuJRqbwJJSstcGAgBM_fAR-j6EMdtN5fmbgrUuj_EkDtzAYtZrjgBn2xzD5-WAWlBGw/w300-h400/IMG_3802.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Here's what really happened. All of us scurried around trying to reinforce the lie until the plan took a u-turn forcing us to change the destination of our breakfast from Montalcino to Buonconvento, a nearer town. We then tried between my meager Italian and Stefania's English to figure out a restaurant we could go to that would serve a quick breakfast. As I mentioned, in Rome hotels seem to go all out for their breakfasts but local restaurants in Buonconvento not so much. I don't know if it was Stefania's intent but her suggestion turned out to be a sports bar serving haggard sweet rolls and espressos to a crew of old men with grizzled beards. We bailed on the sports bar and then started the near impossible task of finding another place before becoming exhausted and settling for another bar selling more haggard sweet rolls and espressos. The upside was the clientele had shaved. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gH55FKN_KSxt3wShKsOr56WwYjzysJQ7Zpqtgmh9Awt83piicfgdFG3TisZaUmPdhcf5KepQttn0eu3KSo_wnlBGmphPtnNj7f3MYMeuWIPs0X-xOzNy04q19roAUGTg8vEAa5tCyh3dHbPUN6ns9DaRN85IU6O4K9CwVEtisqpEPP2W1d_aRWp9Iw/s4032/IMG_3811.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gH55FKN_KSxt3wShKsOr56WwYjzysJQ7Zpqtgmh9Awt83piicfgdFG3TisZaUmPdhcf5KepQttn0eu3KSo_wnlBGmphPtnNj7f3MYMeuWIPs0X-xOzNy04q19roAUGTg8vEAa5tCyh3dHbPUN6ns9DaRN85IU6O4K9CwVEtisqpEPP2W1d_aRWp9Iw/w300-h400/IMG_3811.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We had squeezed in a little shopping, the highlight of the morning, before our breakfast of sweet rolls and coffee, but I was unable to convince anyone else that after our dining on sweet rolls and espresso we should head back.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveWRp-EUqozdMaEJ5moLPDeJBj78dVwUQBb3B-iWvanV8yvgkywzcsufwswaamSveSHKuvk6SuMIOBI95vkChX1oiczOJknwSKZlWdJGUIKu3Pi3IQQBr1kkC-dk5Ozj55ieYU9ILpuqVrj77pvxZbqg3FdQFVmWKJG-W5VDVl8pKMByFyvSxh_6hqA/s4032/IMG_3819.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveWRp-EUqozdMaEJ5moLPDeJBj78dVwUQBb3B-iWvanV8yvgkywzcsufwswaamSveSHKuvk6SuMIOBI95vkChX1oiczOJknwSKZlWdJGUIKu3Pi3IQQBr1kkC-dk5Ozj55ieYU9ILpuqVrj77pvxZbqg3FdQFVmWKJG-W5VDVl8pKMByFyvSxh_6hqA/w300-h400/IMG_3819.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>By some quirk of mathematics the majority was now going to have us all go to Montalcino, our original destination. This is where things went really off the tracks. Traveling is great when you've reached your destination but it's the getting there that can ignite the fisticuffs. Give me a paved road with sufficient shoulder and I'm fine but ask me to drive on streets to small to accommodate two cars going in opposite directions and I'm no good. I thought I had made it clear that we should park at the lot at the bottom of the hill. Apparently I hadn't. When we got to where I thought we should park no one but me was willing to walk up the 173 steps to the top of the hill and the center of town. Rick said he would drive up there so I let him and I walked up the hill by myself. A wrong decision from anywhere you'd look at it. I made it to the top in minutes. They got lost and it took them half an hour to get to where I was standing. Furious...you bet. The only good thing and strictly from my point of view is I was able to stand in two parking spaces, one for each car we were driving and ward off anyone else that tried to park in them. By the time our two cars arrived I had been flipped the bird a half-dozen times but I had secured the only two spaces left for parking. No one thanked me.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNAHaHmU-SV9HNXkeCABtw3drsnzNggo6Sd9eMe5mGAEU1NPdyxRgSVOnzRg-m-1PBxINleSHrfIdZFgoI6nD1n74C7GWK3O6ljiNE0PoYPkAGiQfpcsthaqFGjcmRcPXsQqoOhB4qpaiX_wawhP5d___6QnpuVBgRohYsRTLiLdfVICjdWSKwYJLfA/s4032/IMG_3815.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNAHaHmU-SV9HNXkeCABtw3drsnzNggo6Sd9eMe5mGAEU1NPdyxRgSVOnzRg-m-1PBxINleSHrfIdZFgoI6nD1n74C7GWK3O6ljiNE0PoYPkAGiQfpcsthaqFGjcmRcPXsQqoOhB4qpaiX_wawhP5d___6QnpuVBgRohYsRTLiLdfVICjdWSKwYJLfA/w300-h400/IMG_3815.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>By this time everyone was ready for lunch and with no way out it was going to add another hour on to the already two hours that had lapsed from the time we were supposed to have returned to the farm. The last straw was everyone seemed to have a reason for why we needed to stop at the coop, the local supermarket, before we went back to the farm.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKOKSkJ_A3aPMMstvELexYxp7N6dFhioPipraO5IBJBkTtiTuf0iH73aL4EZzsCwnoRpvaA90FGNIf7QClAvJ4izEICt8yRCtYXL9sFPYPDaWCQd4Sfu8yCcWkyxsmXEPrfAp9cGhgplhNo835r751MWOhJXlk2_Mi3Qzrdkyrt3yCRjTFMejTnmERg/s2981/IMG_3823%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2009" data-original-width="2981" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKOKSkJ_A3aPMMstvELexYxp7N6dFhioPipraO5IBJBkTtiTuf0iH73aL4EZzsCwnoRpvaA90FGNIf7QClAvJ4izEICt8yRCtYXL9sFPYPDaWCQd4Sfu8yCcWkyxsmXEPrfAp9cGhgplhNo835r751MWOhJXlk2_Mi3Qzrdkyrt3yCRjTFMejTnmERg/w400-h270/IMG_3823%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We arrived at 4:30, four and a half hours after the designated time we were supposed to have arrived. Laura and Stefania's balloons had pretty much deflated but being the troopers they are they all managed to sing "Happy Birthday" and smile.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWbRQlx4e63UlS2Oxd4ma1TsTItFSYzDvVytL7gJUcuk9quSG7kt45kw0N7ay7QYWAwZIbVrL88z2-diUIvwHpaWMXlVdYmFm-sTif0g2i0E3BE0ezZNBB4fh5DuwusNjB1YvnHZDaIoqLXBAWAltBthDLLMXXwlqr-3Z4zBiGE82ktrTCiSsaeht8w/s4032/IMG_3825.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWbRQlx4e63UlS2Oxd4ma1TsTItFSYzDvVytL7gJUcuk9quSG7kt45kw0N7ay7QYWAwZIbVrL88z2-diUIvwHpaWMXlVdYmFm-sTif0g2i0E3BE0ezZNBB4fh5DuwusNjB1YvnHZDaIoqLXBAWAltBthDLLMXXwlqr-3Z4zBiGE82ktrTCiSsaeht8w/w300-h400/IMG_3825.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I think Rick was still pleased as he kept clinging to the edge of 69 insisting he still had a few minutes left by Georgia time until he was officially 70.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmAqorBNpS7A3JmXVkYN7TCdPL-PeXeZ456Lq5dUagXYoAYdAuQxdeKztOZVrODrjSv-6QLrTghBCaTGw_GUUdp68YoZh3WLp1x4Ju3qb0ulIfaJ7SMd4M6w4QkrZ3k6U2O_olfPum5BgNfN4kTSN9hdSmscGMdm19YE0irW2v04BEr5pkBcFsytP6g/s4032/IMG_3853.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmAqorBNpS7A3JmXVkYN7TCdPL-PeXeZ456Lq5dUagXYoAYdAuQxdeKztOZVrODrjSv-6QLrTghBCaTGw_GUUdp68YoZh3WLp1x4Ju3qb0ulIfaJ7SMd4M6w4QkrZ3k6U2O_olfPum5BgNfN4kTSN9hdSmscGMdm19YE0irW2v04BEr5pkBcFsytP6g/w300-h400/IMG_3853.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The crown of Rick's birthday was his dinner at our favorite restaurant Boccon di Vino perched high on a hill in Montalcino with a view stretching across the valley blanketed with a patchwork of fields of green.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj91KgVuQ0ax_cz9Y9JSD0C3tYsMnfupW29drgz_i-Gj6W304yH1JE0xEYfRqQB1EXStoUHP2wLImYMzaQPgEa9DtGMSjaR5KS7H5wXkH6kb8snMfd4o5dhJ7bFywrLtcTAXtKpmJloW3WIRTE-r0W1hc1jxxOs4Aj7knFx1atg9RejugaVDBxLAECQJg/s4032/IMG_3836.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj91KgVuQ0ax_cz9Y9JSD0C3tYsMnfupW29drgz_i-Gj6W304yH1JE0xEYfRqQB1EXStoUHP2wLImYMzaQPgEa9DtGMSjaR5KS7H5wXkH6kb8snMfd4o5dhJ7bFywrLtcTAXtKpmJloW3WIRTE-r0W1hc1jxxOs4Aj7knFx1atg9RejugaVDBxLAECQJg/w300-h400/IMG_3836.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The restaurant is now well established having begun in the early 90's and survived the pandemic it is now run by the second generation of the family.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkFy93PT-85AJxFBtzC949rFD75HU7qgl1JToWZvAm2yKtru2fR7zVSJrDCqGElg3ldoSN0KceOol84Q7YO_tyRPLcKtr2XtqNVAhnoqI_Vv2WrHxu61EFHUl7u6uxGUWUMOAuo-AXU-AqB8Iua_KYtlM19yXs6OYzsJJQ9H2QAPyxtnQstrGIIzwHg/s4032/IMG_3846.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkFy93PT-85AJxFBtzC949rFD75HU7qgl1JToWZvAm2yKtru2fR7zVSJrDCqGElg3ldoSN0KceOol84Q7YO_tyRPLcKtr2XtqNVAhnoqI_Vv2WrHxu61EFHUl7u6uxGUWUMOAuo-AXU-AqB8Iua_KYtlM19yXs6OYzsJJQ9H2QAPyxtnQstrGIIzwHg/w300-h400/IMG_3846.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We were thirteen for dinner, a dinner that began at eight that evening with the pouring of a sparkling rose and didn't end until close to midnight running through five courses designed to bring Tuscany to the table followed by a surprise ending. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimdAp9CSN5ybiqVvQiOghZTf3b98UwI_dQknH3OgRRuvu9n4pf2ZM_s9HwjHSBipdyBtT_n8fZreBc3-Z5D-0MtIV5CO4lzuhTrmgJkywHzO11EHhHKM-VrPv-3CwB04JqHql7tlvpF2wE0UmGQBoX5spdmmXbaxrkLf1Q_4I6kZ7kTjNYpfCpxxgOXA/s4032/IMG_3849.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimdAp9CSN5ybiqVvQiOghZTf3b98UwI_dQknH3OgRRuvu9n4pf2ZM_s9HwjHSBipdyBtT_n8fZreBc3-Z5D-0MtIV5CO4lzuhTrmgJkywHzO11EHhHKM-VrPv-3CwB04JqHql7tlvpF2wE0UmGQBoX5spdmmXbaxrkLf1Q_4I6kZ7kTjNYpfCpxxgOXA/w300-h400/IMG_3849.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The menu began with a tasting plate of appetizers, toast points with chicken liver pate, a crispy phillo pastry filled with melting Pecorino, slivers of Tuscan black cabbage, fried polenta with black garlic sauce and smoked goose breast Carpaccio.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrKTC3cXqVPnCXeEItyPxT0QrSQjAJBGoTwnVwtlFGJGCKuqWdlF1CBflX471F6tHi0EcndpfGDI8AgTft-YvMHLzGgpKE1NA2Af9jU81Nl8Dk9PrvFWXi-MnCtu-GM5PFAVs_honP9Yh4DxAJXPOS_ikBviyilcjbaxJDnpIbk95z4rcsdOxXlRvFg/s4032/IMG_3851.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrKTC3cXqVPnCXeEItyPxT0QrSQjAJBGoTwnVwtlFGJGCKuqWdlF1CBflX471F6tHi0EcndpfGDI8AgTft-YvMHLzGgpKE1NA2Af9jU81Nl8Dk9PrvFWXi-MnCtu-GM5PFAVs_honP9Yh4DxAJXPOS_ikBviyilcjbaxJDnpIbk95z4rcsdOxXlRvFg/w300-h400/IMG_3851.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>This was served with a Veraccia di San Gimignano 2019 reserve<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4w_akGwFEtWSAi4OJWE0VmLxrNgocsN6ctsDkCnWBviiJT4mRoBi5f9bE4ZE6rTbNj7zC-yxKGwtTmx0128gMmdf8IzUb6tUxnKeO1Z211-ZTSeEpkZrMA9O3HAYpb4iWM6BjoimmxZjHl56Oeh6auSl__vtRXc-E8fV5P53aUX9cu2mny-PZH0xUA/s4032/IMG_3854.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4w_akGwFEtWSAi4OJWE0VmLxrNgocsN6ctsDkCnWBviiJT4mRoBi5f9bE4ZE6rTbNj7zC-yxKGwtTmx0128gMmdf8IzUb6tUxnKeO1Z211-ZTSeEpkZrMA9O3HAYpb4iWM6BjoimmxZjHl56Oeh6auSl__vtRXc-E8fV5P53aUX9cu2mny-PZH0xUA/w300-h400/IMG_3854.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The entire meal was served slowly giving you time to savor the after flavors of what had been served previously. The next course was La Pappa col Pomodoro, a blended red pepper soup topped with crostini drizzled with olive oil and balsamic <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjns1nKQ6RiYeA-H8PEoc3fKB54MO8lR2pNsfNX-tTjJjLNQStyeru2jsbZg3EQkoSwr436HhF1ByVdknSoaVBq4C9MzqWbrS8nWEliKeG1S-IQm_cqn4EbAA505o2qHscGNw4sApCTWYtx6_3HhJwvFrFRdkJxAUsM4nsN4hh4Qpf5FZxbHDUTDARuwg/s4032/IMG_3856.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjns1nKQ6RiYeA-H8PEoc3fKB54MO8lR2pNsfNX-tTjJjLNQStyeru2jsbZg3EQkoSwr436HhF1ByVdknSoaVBq4C9MzqWbrS8nWEliKeG1S-IQm_cqn4EbAA505o2qHscGNw4sApCTWYtx6_3HhJwvFrFRdkJxAUsM4nsN4hh4Qpf5FZxbHDUTDARuwg/w300-h400/IMG_3856.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The prima course was a signature dish, a highly guarded family recipe of homemade gnocchi tossed with Italian cheeses and garnished with shavings of fresh black truffle. This was the dish I was waiting for and as much as I'd like to describe it I can't beyond it was heaven the minute it touched my tongue. I wasn't sure if I wanted another course but I did know I wanted the taste of that "Gli Gnocchi di Mario" to rest on my taste buds for as long as it could<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAonOWKbBiveNv6H-5A-UtnDenOJQiVaLXO8BqacT_ii-lZtZ3mH79s5AG6Ew7EYhbw2MSgsaImAsp-bXrGPcDzfHYUBGQa9e6rz_0PNI_fG3AzD1haXy7k0M01RXZCEsAz3DIsWkKv7nTsTrk4QIIhDOqPv-akJfCQgmGrqDGbo7pt2bGTa5cYrwZ1g/s4032/IMG_3859.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAonOWKbBiveNv6H-5A-UtnDenOJQiVaLXO8BqacT_ii-lZtZ3mH79s5AG6Ew7EYhbw2MSgsaImAsp-bXrGPcDzfHYUBGQa9e6rz_0PNI_fG3AzD1haXy7k0M01RXZCEsAz3DIsWkKv7nTsTrk4QIIhDOqPv-akJfCQgmGrqDGbo7pt2bGTa5cYrwZ1g/w300-h400/IMG_3859.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The secondo course was a plate of beef cheek medallions stewed in Brunello wine and served with organic chickpeas and rosemary oil. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitNHRN5IIq9Va5erdK-kkmbMFgu3fzImcvRKHwQOFoykVKR6mRalI9zqDLJrc6IrXGzwqCKyNQY5RLTeg-FWe76ZYvUyyhipqlHc3BHDb2XRgHIvzJkqkHNn_d0-SBWPta2rA6Zi9iut-lVgFW3S_4a3-Ka2_7bjGT80h8R005pSOiQ4WL_ZX8fp_IXA/s4032/IMG_3861.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitNHRN5IIq9Va5erdK-kkmbMFgu3fzImcvRKHwQOFoykVKR6mRalI9zqDLJrc6IrXGzwqCKyNQY5RLTeg-FWe76ZYvUyyhipqlHc3BHDb2XRgHIvzJkqkHNn_d0-SBWPta2rA6Zi9iut-lVgFW3S_4a3-Ka2_7bjGT80h8R005pSOiQ4WL_ZX8fp_IXA/w300-h400/IMG_3861.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>For this course a robust Brunello Corte Pavone 2016 was served<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_BuWcLcwgzGJRcW_o9abDPieRE21p-5fSzXOe3Ecu7LF6E0JXWwtSG3D3sNDb9jL0UWcUWfepCEbOLqG3sMD5AF84aFneHOnaNnXJiC0cMVONFq0TNsyTFiP71r8AJbRHx5uiBnGgcWqw1Zhlbt3zx9WsJCx9lGVzNrSo5jcqt5riqwfUIpHSaXR0Q/s4032/IMG_3862.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_BuWcLcwgzGJRcW_o9abDPieRE21p-5fSzXOe3Ecu7LF6E0JXWwtSG3D3sNDb9jL0UWcUWfepCEbOLqG3sMD5AF84aFneHOnaNnXJiC0cMVONFq0TNsyTFiP71r8AJbRHx5uiBnGgcWqw1Zhlbt3zx9WsJCx9lGVzNrSo5jcqt5riqwfUIpHSaXR0Q/w300-h400/IMG_3862.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The last official course was a dessert pairing a lemon sorbet striped with a mint sauce and a coup of chocolate coffee mousse set on meringue shards.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIV9LrQMUOKBkfMgyktISVPIOloU77zKU9OT_hRgASBP0VH7WG1pR0LdB7zgL7kZ6_mMxTD6JMzLHmYnd4Sa06ZW6ylcg4wnL_ynVAT4rsyJCM1qJVxtRRBwpKV_TmaU5FJKXK73LqNlop2wn1XbOzPPcP5xrOs5qiBmYLfpFsyeh0JathKjIgtWXYA/s4032/IMG_3866.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIV9LrQMUOKBkfMgyktISVPIOloU77zKU9OT_hRgASBP0VH7WG1pR0LdB7zgL7kZ6_mMxTD6JMzLHmYnd4Sa06ZW6ylcg4wnL_ynVAT4rsyJCM1qJVxtRRBwpKV_TmaU5FJKXK73LqNlop2wn1XbOzPPcP5xrOs5qiBmYLfpFsyeh0JathKjIgtWXYA/w300-h400/IMG_3866.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>This was served with a Moscadello Capanna 2019, a sweet ending of dinner wine<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmY8bI4nTeHTyfSvpUpbg5bk3Sbt-RaTaje9Jxh1qrGYXePw20aTDKQcUEcoMvR5fIOn4O5hPdgk1nH7k986h4vX8MoZtFIgW0wU59uwtHI2k8YH_N5ToE6aMBj0HXC5LfehXm1EgJS0tsuBLw4ziN8udGFg4-PST-4ZOaGJTrE558y_gJHBthGysThQ/s4032/IMG_3868.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmY8bI4nTeHTyfSvpUpbg5bk3Sbt-RaTaje9Jxh1qrGYXePw20aTDKQcUEcoMvR5fIOn4O5hPdgk1nH7k986h4vX8MoZtFIgW0wU59uwtHI2k8YH_N5ToE6aMBj0HXC5LfehXm1EgJS0tsuBLw4ziN8udGFg4-PST-4ZOaGJTrE558y_gJHBthGysThQ/w300-h400/IMG_3868.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The surprise, as if the desserts weren't enough, was a beautiful birthday cake after which everyone moaned basta.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-3124541415385248292022-05-09T01:40:00.003-05:002022-05-12T15:35:47.116-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022, DAY 5, ARMENA<p> <span style="color: #c27ba0;">THE EFFECTS OF TOO MUCH GRAPPA</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UciOJFo0vg1ijLLBB9ZxuR_n8J0I_VhIZurxgGhYwfp3wNlVbme7tIINF6HO5CDHK3e99tbnXqLtek4wepjKbT-P76N27ca3HaWIhQcxXLX67iBSWk7NG5ZsyUjrotbXAVmDj_VoYIpu47AWjSQV6LlJ-r9WnQM01r9_9s88eTHOphCscQHz1MBdUg/s1024/italian-grappa.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UciOJFo0vg1ijLLBB9ZxuR_n8J0I_VhIZurxgGhYwfp3wNlVbme7tIINF6HO5CDHK3e99tbnXqLtek4wepjKbT-P76N27ca3HaWIhQcxXLX67iBSWk7NG5ZsyUjrotbXAVmDj_VoYIpu47AWjSQV6LlJ-r9WnQM01r9_9s88eTHOphCscQHz1MBdUg/w400-h266/italian-grappa.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>If you don't know what Grappa is let me tell you. It's fire in a bottle, a lethal intoxicant at120 proof and the next closest thing to Everclear. It's killer. It was the final competition at last night's dinner seeing who had the balls or stomach to endure the most without passing out. I think our daughter won but it was the reason no one in our family managed to roll out of bed until noon on the day after. It was also why today became a day of rest. It is my understanding that Sunday is traditionally a day where no work is to be done and since it was also Mother's Day we were not going to go against tradition. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZCfynXUh0_7E2TMOWWS7Zi8tN9QZlVWh5pDdNaJkJTy8cyA-eZk_AtHj33hT4bhMz1ICIcD6JsAzWlsOqTx35-62E7cNS-TR_k3uiNB8p4GNUjM1yEZtjHBl1cTan0XiZQJlkUB6nTpzXVCN8IRVKsV-1Drf95veIOihEHrhwKgAtkJ1P0IxmSw6Kw/s4032/IMG_3714.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZCfynXUh0_7E2TMOWWS7Zi8tN9QZlVWh5pDdNaJkJTy8cyA-eZk_AtHj33hT4bhMz1ICIcD6JsAzWlsOqTx35-62E7cNS-TR_k3uiNB8p4GNUjM1yEZtjHBl1cTan0XiZQJlkUB6nTpzXVCN8IRVKsV-1Drf95veIOihEHrhwKgAtkJ1P0IxmSw6Kw/w400-h300/IMG_3714.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The weather today was more like what we were hoping for: warmer, a light breeze and a few early afternoon showers of refreshing rain. There was no plan to go out for lunch and no plan to go hill town hopping or sight seeing of any kind. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7BlMQlfdwLIn-kLatxy0UMo2UGuLqBl7dGKt0hBT_vvsP1G2cKtfyauHsUk83PlmgT0731Dlf6iutt-t_KX8I_rzRHwPD3-xzDBc_g_VwXO1qgDUIjhczRs8x5o8EPOeaS3JfoWXvul9F4BXgf3XQLN80hfcx8fbzcnsBFuAuCZw7iUkT0kfPxX_Mw/s4032/IMG_3728.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7BlMQlfdwLIn-kLatxy0UMo2UGuLqBl7dGKt0hBT_vvsP1G2cKtfyauHsUk83PlmgT0731Dlf6iutt-t_KX8I_rzRHwPD3-xzDBc_g_VwXO1qgDUIjhczRs8x5o8EPOeaS3JfoWXvul9F4BXgf3XQLN80hfcx8fbzcnsBFuAuCZw7iUkT0kfPxX_Mw/w300-h400/IMG_3728.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Instead we all pooled together what we could pull out of our frigs and cabinets. We succeeded in coming up with a lunch of prosciutto and melon, cheeses and meats, a green salad and what remained of the tarts Stefania had made as a welcoming present in each of our apartments. That pesky rain I mentioned before was the only uncooperative element. We had originally decided to set the table in the upper apartment thinking it was going to be too cool to eat outside but very quickly we realized it was warmer out in the sun than it was in apartment. Everyone picked up a plate and we all trotted out to the outdoor dining area with the view of the pool and the hills beyond.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA9gS-BPxKtxrhWkdiWAGx0fom2Hro1zouYqhJ3rDlrHInbqt41zMizD7eug55vpRib7NIVcQymPKfRrD-A_-T4VDDEEvhZ8XGjKmsQpznXFymo_ZmVw5XpdEAzdxuvXkU5XKSGRbjTSj0bfObehgOtUOYSaIgsHTjfeGf9GIynQPwN1RWb1L3XzTpA/s4032/IMG_3730.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA9gS-BPxKtxrhWkdiWAGx0fom2Hro1zouYqhJ3rDlrHInbqt41zMizD7eug55vpRib7NIVcQymPKfRrD-A_-T4VDDEEvhZ8XGjKmsQpznXFymo_ZmVw5XpdEAzdxuvXkU5XKSGRbjTSj0bfObehgOtUOYSaIgsHTjfeGf9GIynQPwN1RWb1L3XzTpA/w300-h400/IMG_3730.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>No sooner did we get the table set than the rain came, softly but enough to make us decide we should move into the covered patio more to protect the food than ourselves. Of course, by the time we had all reached the veranda the rain stopped and the sun was out. This time we all decided to leave the food where it was, fix our own plates and go back to sitting by the pool. No one can say we're not flexible in our dotage.<p></p><p>A couple of bottles of wine and the plan for dinner settled everyone was ready for a nap and that's what we did.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTwK2sJ-9d6jTpDObVb7TCi3DmfURjz7sQDvWao2Znx6tanKC1GgUK6HVudGw5QYC-gzwVzOzYen77hELMDJ3u-pprKpJfgYuTYy8m1cQRc-9XnJfouusympdPXZtkFC2eEqJX1_NKqlODR22jTjzQ4koPBtZw0un5gSPaydmkVkcdjWwxUGRWpgRz5g/s4032/IMG_3733.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTwK2sJ-9d6jTpDObVb7TCi3DmfURjz7sQDvWao2Znx6tanKC1GgUK6HVudGw5QYC-gzwVzOzYen77hELMDJ3u-pprKpJfgYuTYy8m1cQRc-9XnJfouusympdPXZtkFC2eEqJX1_NKqlODR22jTjzQ4koPBtZw0un5gSPaydmkVkcdjWwxUGRWpgRz5g/w300-h400/IMG_3733.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The Saraceni's had gone to Siena for Mother's Day but they returned right after we had finished our lunch. Stefania is Emmy's adopted Italian mother. Emmy's connection to Stefania has always been palpable. There's something about a girl with two fathers. She's blessed with an entire batch of surrogate mothers. Stefania is one of Emmy's and one of her favorites.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4JlNvkScW4OeZEIRYr_f2GTElFWsWHIb23Fo0jZAhgARGtUBWLr8vTn8aP_vo6vgrX3R2ipnyozN46FKdi8ATgUBxfGG53tPOaX3fV8B0UoFCFg5TjLZZCValyPFwE8Q47Wj_AzULBPoVh6fbIR3NWN5mOJYV0huDncMJnD1jqX-oz3_DD2qkdBsVg/s4032/IMG_3734.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4JlNvkScW4OeZEIRYr_f2GTElFWsWHIb23Fo0jZAhgARGtUBWLr8vTn8aP_vo6vgrX3R2ipnyozN46FKdi8ATgUBxfGG53tPOaX3fV8B0UoFCFg5TjLZZCValyPFwE8Q47Wj_AzULBPoVh6fbIR3NWN5mOJYV0huDncMJnD1jqX-oz3_DD2qkdBsVg/w300-h400/IMG_3734.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Emmy made sure Stefania knew how much she meant to her. She had gone and bought a beautiful hydrangea and attached a note she penned in Italian that voiced her love. Stefania, with only two sons, was touched by the flowers, the note and the love from her American daughter.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdCsiVhnKScrtwG2EObrPBC4BV3HmfuOQze9SUaLfpbpeFNhxsBs8B8VZXT4vnGATYdpCpyk08JhNMJv6-JXDRgD0wX2KswIjhLKFsk3sYtLUDds_vsPaB9qLQeqS86ehs852ukqdLOCAkJM2svnPr4VLxLqdf10GpIZR36lE5Cdlga7UYHyFj9zqPA/s4032/IMG_3764.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdCsiVhnKScrtwG2EObrPBC4BV3HmfuOQze9SUaLfpbpeFNhxsBs8B8VZXT4vnGATYdpCpyk08JhNMJv6-JXDRgD0wX2KswIjhLKFsk3sYtLUDds_vsPaB9qLQeqS86ehs852ukqdLOCAkJM2svnPr4VLxLqdf10GpIZR36lE5Cdlga7UYHyFj9zqPA/w300-h400/IMG_3764.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>That night we treated the Saraceni's to dinner, each of us supplying an element for the dinner of parpadelle with mushrooms, caprese salad, and what tiramisu that was left over from the night before.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDDciNOmvtwarY8_L3vehzbJDohZ1-RDM4lKSTSDhfxn1rsw6yFrTqwz1uPc4GntkImLx7lRVfyGJfp5bDdS6ThFu_7_bfRlBUyYsbWwLiJWrLdQxgfhOhBm_rEK9nyktIKxmn0QpN9U1reZ3SosWX0vO5Z1npPSHgfkgP068fstyYa4aG1jvvIb2nxg/s4032/IMG_3765.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDDciNOmvtwarY8_L3vehzbJDohZ1-RDM4lKSTSDhfxn1rsw6yFrTqwz1uPc4GntkImLx7lRVfyGJfp5bDdS6ThFu_7_bfRlBUyYsbWwLiJWrLdQxgfhOhBm_rEK9nyktIKxmn0QpN9U1reZ3SosWX0vO5Z1npPSHgfkgP068fstyYa4aG1jvvIb2nxg/w300-h400/IMG_3765.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>At the end of dinner Stefania told us about a fireworks celebration in Montalcino commemorating the mother of all mothers, the Virgin Mary. Adam, Roby, Eric and I hopped in the car and off we went hoping for a good view and a trip to the gelateria, Why Not, as an added bonus. We almost reached the top of the hill in Montalcino before a police car lights flashing stood in our way of making it all the way to the castle and the fireworks. They had blocked access in and out of the town until the fireworks were over but they let us turn our car around, get out and watch the fireworks from the side of the road. It was a pretty good view, if it had come with a scoop of stracciatella gelato on a wafer cone it would have been the perfect end to an evening in Tuscany. <p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-3201498022033142682022-05-08T17:19:00.000-05:002022-05-08T17:19:12.042-05:00ITALY SPRING 2022 DAY 4 FROM ROME TO ARMENA<p> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;">BYE BYE ROME HELLO ARMENA</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKqWx_rkerIHxTLSu-PiHmwsXLAFilAkLFUZcuGpMoXL_5iIuIgwFk5u_pW3BlhFm-HJxfBlmLSRUSycj_tEPo9KXwJU54Nju6gUIfnhCoq2Mlk2lPBfKYZUkUSfdmUa5VOX9RMKFb9hJLzmERySu5ZzTqYlezLp6yfJUcibQfMQ-lFBr6sHqw6sxoA/s4032/IMG_3646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKqWx_rkerIHxTLSu-PiHmwsXLAFilAkLFUZcuGpMoXL_5iIuIgwFk5u_pW3BlhFm-HJxfBlmLSRUSycj_tEPo9KXwJU54Nju6gUIfnhCoq2Mlk2lPBfKYZUkUSfdmUa5VOX9RMKFb9hJLzmERySu5ZzTqYlezLp6yfJUcibQfMQ-lFBr6sHqw6sxoA/w300-h400/IMG_3646.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We had our bags packed by the designated checkout time from La Residenza. The Shaver/Melahn's never travel light. Adam and I had done the dry run to the car rental places the day before but when it came time for checkout the desk clerk encouraged us to take a cab and our luggage instead of trying to drive back to the hotel to pick up every and our luggage. There were now traffic areas surrounding the hotel that if caught bringing an unregistered car into the area could bring you a fine of $250. We decided even if our families put up a stink about having to trot their luggage around we were going to demand they follow our desk clerk's suggestion or we were going to hand over the keys and tell them "Then you drive". We got no resistance. <p></p><p>Yesterday I mentioned the possibility of an impending fiasco. We dodged the bullet but Adam and JoHannah were not so lucky. When they went to their Italian rental car company they were informed that they needed an International license in order to rent their car. The deal they thought they had scored by using a European company backfired and they were forced to scramble at a Budget counter to get a car at double the price they had paid for the Italian car. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTG7ZtGhWoJvPelyBYuniA1Pgc4dq_gqz2y-dielQ_Hr7PMaDmjPka70axA0QHXFElx6ppBU0OrKt7OYEEQin63dTVH6F4xAjRyh3Gnoj71b9EuLdJ2Fpnk3h4Km7pCV5_wGj0ew6xE3PiEEDZi8kyAE7LJS8AFOPqrp9YhhrpgF3Ju3VDKzKI1FWHxw/s4032/IMG_3684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTG7ZtGhWoJvPelyBYuniA1Pgc4dq_gqz2y-dielQ_Hr7PMaDmjPka70axA0QHXFElx6ppBU0OrKt7OYEEQin63dTVH6F4xAjRyh3Gnoj71b9EuLdJ2Fpnk3h4Km7pCV5_wGj0ew6xE3PiEEDZi8kyAE7LJS8AFOPqrp9YhhrpgF3Ju3VDKzKI1FWHxw/w400-h300/IMG_3684.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Does anyone really know how GPS works? How on earth does that woman with the British accent talk to billions of drivers all at the same time and in places all over the world telling them when to turn right and when to turn left? I don't know how we were able to travel with only Michelin maps to guide us and a passenger side navigator trying to follow a route with their finger while looking for signs in a foreign language and screaming instructions all at the same time.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpx6B9KxHERZHzAWspFR3Usp0063cG00-K9iGwwn8ezuIA-XED-dN9HcWOREYePlkfXLu3YdqhJo53wSkIqAHOBHfMaY-1zFBXNeQmaLHzVUTEIGQaDTY5R5OSuiXX9WKqoQD-UGkU89AartLdrUBV646wyzMXA6amqg_whnRTv_ryf1TDPV3hbVoJQ/s4032/IMG_3689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWpx6B9KxHERZHzAWspFR3Usp0063cG00-K9iGwwn8ezuIA-XED-dN9HcWOREYePlkfXLu3YdqhJo53wSkIqAHOBHfMaY-1zFBXNeQmaLHzVUTEIGQaDTY5R5OSuiXX9WKqoQD-UGkU89AartLdrUBV646wyzMXA6amqg_whnRTv_ryf1TDPV3hbVoJQ/w400-h300/IMG_3689.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Now we can watch some of the scenery while that British lady takes all the flack though her "Straight ahead" command sounds more like "Straight to hell". I'm sure she's responsible for saving thousands of marriages and relationships.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAgOliPM81VwDh9hYIHaqifB-dhlJe7PnpUoi-_MkphfgQk8mz9TG0O5fo-L2Liq_55kwIJp30b4Hj5isOC4m6PWLZEuX3UV0ZkS5ZSgogW34QDi2Nx2myLlPNlH_VKYvdtMHzI5dgf5kDmHLQMrzybvQsNSN7js-UG265HC1pri6YFA4iPxntrkt_w/s4032/IMG_8353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAgOliPM81VwDh9hYIHaqifB-dhlJe7PnpUoi-_MkphfgQk8mz9TG0O5fo-L2Liq_55kwIJp30b4Hj5isOC4m6PWLZEuX3UV0ZkS5ZSgogW34QDi2Nx2myLlPNlH_VKYvdtMHzI5dgf5kDmHLQMrzybvQsNSN7js-UG265HC1pri6YFA4iPxntrkt_w/w300-h400/IMG_8353.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Our plan was to drive as far as Orvieto and stop there for lunch before continuing on to Armena. We had done this drive many times and Orvieto was a little beyond halfway. Once off the autostrada it's a little scary drive up the mountain to the center city of this beautiful hill town. I did have some advice about parking at the lower level of the center city and walking up the hill to the Duomo. Last time we were in Orvietto I mistakenly drove into the city where apparently I was photographed entering a street banned from car travel. A year later I received a ticket by mail for $297.00 from the Community of Orvieto. Lesson learned. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLrjjFAbht0DX0Mv91UWYdPQVaDjHYHWT1Ey5ZfMUn51HvbYOh_fHOa87rAWLvalaN_Ts-yoeMBKXGQ8KHb6PDp_WHw9AnKwvu9RDHpFmmHkV4wTNydqItvr2q38yd9qudN2E-wedLQqMFHCU9eScILSFlNiIv_V9k709CdtP05mhCdX22oX2UpTAeg/s4032/IMG_3658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLrjjFAbht0DX0Mv91UWYdPQVaDjHYHWT1Ey5ZfMUn51HvbYOh_fHOa87rAWLvalaN_Ts-yoeMBKXGQ8KHb6PDp_WHw9AnKwvu9RDHpFmmHkV4wTNydqItvr2q38yd9qudN2E-wedLQqMFHCU9eScILSFlNiIv_V9k709CdtP05mhCdX22oX2UpTAeg/w300-h400/IMG_3658.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Rick had once again scored a restaurant find right next to the Duomo called Trattoria Vinosus.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_u9Pv7CNLXWqbwAMF-E7uD3Bz5d1BkShcYQ15TsFisTB7o4JoFOCicPyf54i-hr5sfhd1INC3kPXiMLu2kUyqxmbSeVz2jWLKPs96vaTfNc_Ilde-0tbVzKJJu2zkPzZn3Z3SX94PjxQGnKYc1qpKEGIgrMYp58ltEYauI3lB1k9-oqu4tyKMZUPSQ/s4032/IMG_3655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_u9Pv7CNLXWqbwAMF-E7uD3Bz5d1BkShcYQ15TsFisTB7o4JoFOCicPyf54i-hr5sfhd1INC3kPXiMLu2kUyqxmbSeVz2jWLKPs96vaTfNc_Ilde-0tbVzKJJu2zkPzZn3Z3SX94PjxQGnKYc1qpKEGIgrMYp58ltEYauI3lB1k9-oqu4tyKMZUPSQ/w300-h400/IMG_3655.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Once again a Spaghetti Carbonara made its way around the table.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLkaMNHmSCrv20U7fnJUe0ZdVjoedf2-HuZLHgie79fV6Y5qqRG71yxurbEkusjaBpWjouXHkmLvkYqGOhwzSm8rSPbiDl0LiXKuabzYUEsmTbzUrXFxO9hiBiLXixGHBK3Z-EDuov2X1pjtnl9S_KhHJ7ciMCn5xKObPE3E4ZSqIw9zCeIuDFdfbGA/s4032/IMG_3654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLkaMNHmSCrv20U7fnJUe0ZdVjoedf2-HuZLHgie79fV6Y5qqRG71yxurbEkusjaBpWjouXHkmLvkYqGOhwzSm8rSPbiDl0LiXKuabzYUEsmTbzUrXFxO9hiBiLXixGHBK3Z-EDuov2X1pjtnl9S_KhHJ7ciMCn5xKObPE3E4ZSqIw9zCeIuDFdfbGA/w300-h400/IMG_3654.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Adam went for a plate of Antipasto Vinosus<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-Xpl3q8VBwp2vFglf6-AdaIuyf1nkV1DDqMgQ49rJjwHochfWt98ZuZgSEmpju-mhTtKhSzVJJ_k8YYr3FPeq2QNjdr03u0PzFp8bbFgHKb_T5PNiwkNphWNo3FnEo5tHxC-Hy_rdLJC4MhiAbhitujZoSPy7pzyZ2CGZ37wcGPSTmZ1nNPKgK-Q4Q/s4032/IMG_3657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-Xpl3q8VBwp2vFglf6-AdaIuyf1nkV1DDqMgQ49rJjwHochfWt98ZuZgSEmpju-mhTtKhSzVJJ_k8YYr3FPeq2QNjdr03u0PzFp8bbFgHKb_T5PNiwkNphWNo3FnEo5tHxC-Hy_rdLJC4MhiAbhitujZoSPy7pzyZ2CGZ37wcGPSTmZ1nNPKgK-Q4Q/w300-h400/IMG_3657.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>and Emmy and I split a serving of tortellini in an onion broth that was magnificent.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWAaM5UxXmGQXejMKMhJKX_ShfQDcDHILSGz1f9yjuON2O96Sea8Z5gLpJt85qOmpie3dlmY_LMAFB6x5k2RZgJXL0hyjnUF8gXlN1wdYVRj1ifrKwxUuBA3LDYdzu4XrxlHQ7wzbBw7T--33jvc4ZkvUIWzDvO_HpZA2BJO6RFNFK5LU-TklUbGMkA/s4032/IMG_3664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWAaM5UxXmGQXejMKMhJKX_ShfQDcDHILSGz1f9yjuON2O96Sea8Z5gLpJt85qOmpie3dlmY_LMAFB6x5k2RZgJXL0hyjnUF8gXlN1wdYVRj1ifrKwxUuBA3LDYdzu4XrxlHQ7wzbBw7T--33jvc4ZkvUIWzDvO_HpZA2BJO6RFNFK5LU-TklUbGMkA/w300-h400/IMG_3664.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>After lunch JoHannah, Emmy and Rick went back to the cars while Adam, Roby and I went to explore the Duomo.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZw8y9D0v1jrD-CR6tu92eDN_v1_m4_84GKwEDpi_GEVaqpk2LoXpStniDNUstW4-ONTzE-V3lq9RfiYXwpCM0Cdzb7miS63bciU-IjjVS5Cy4oVJauXa0bZi0SEqtF2EbirYbvWJOnkUoyUL9QZ9OcKqZ-FOtBeRdukKtJSfnxo6GCApUBNU18NHIw/s4032/IMG_3661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZw8y9D0v1jrD-CR6tu92eDN_v1_m4_84GKwEDpi_GEVaqpk2LoXpStniDNUstW4-ONTzE-V3lq9RfiYXwpCM0Cdzb7miS63bciU-IjjVS5Cy4oVJauXa0bZi0SEqtF2EbirYbvWJOnkUoyUL9QZ9OcKqZ-FOtBeRdukKtJSfnxo6GCApUBNU18NHIw/w300-h400/IMG_3661.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The Duomo is a marvel in black and white stone both inside and out.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCFMypS9bi4qTFAD22uatVXjaRupDwS340QB1tB7StDkowG5_3XXxCCpspHZCczTPcEFtDWgT5HinAgIY07At512uTFZA3UHdcKewPiWAOFg1xiE_frfk5AzUA3RuL0evAS7IH54qxlB839SwE9lswAegESOZUbAzObpYGMqxlujR5I7UO6IwQ70Org/s4032/IMG_3681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCFMypS9bi4qTFAD22uatVXjaRupDwS340QB1tB7StDkowG5_3XXxCCpspHZCczTPcEFtDWgT5HinAgIY07At512uTFZA3UHdcKewPiWAOFg1xiE_frfk5AzUA3RuL0evAS7IH54qxlB839SwE9lswAegESOZUbAzObpYGMqxlujR5I7UO6IwQ70Org/w300-h400/IMG_3681.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>The fresco walls are among some of the most god smacking marvels you'll see.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHA7UXvPqI503Q-vwMEvfKGnmDY1KvLxEcBAjsCx0bCxF-tb9cKc42K8R26keb1zYZzyAET4QLq4XMCCNFWMrYl8px7b6c4xhxwhpYHY9JmtU3CaHYhRtuvMcM5Zd2zF0ZkvDjYpLCzmv8VUj6-Ra0l6LcCbZTnI35s8PF7U2BwFUKhKmQv5CEYgXluw/s4032/IMG_3682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHA7UXvPqI503Q-vwMEvfKGnmDY1KvLxEcBAjsCx0bCxF-tb9cKc42K8R26keb1zYZzyAET4QLq4XMCCNFWMrYl8px7b6c4xhxwhpYHY9JmtU3CaHYhRtuvMcM5Zd2zF0ZkvDjYpLCzmv8VUj6-Ra0l6LcCbZTnI35s8PF7U2BwFUKhKmQv5CEYgXluw/w300-h400/IMG_3682.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We followed our tour with a stop at the adjacent gelateria knowing we'd have finished our cones well before we reached the others.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LyXuI0JoKUyV698qsAaBY7a-cli4o98bmyI8p-OdXUuUdjpjQliaxLyxuRNnzmWg33Rq4hIQLcx2HdZ1cpUKVYYPV8zuVIp-3iuCUb8Obc4XnWui7wVR7vsVc95OJ0Hgk8uj9kBH5-22fE94T22aFBvO35xLJW5Sj20v_v_DL-icjVuAAthxk34_xw/s4032/IMG_3687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8LyXuI0JoKUyV698qsAaBY7a-cli4o98bmyI8p-OdXUuUdjpjQliaxLyxuRNnzmWg33Rq4hIQLcx2HdZ1cpUKVYYPV8zuVIp-3iuCUb8Obc4XnWui7wVR7vsVc95OJ0Hgk8uj9kBH5-22fE94T22aFBvO35xLJW5Sj20v_v_DL-icjVuAAthxk34_xw/w300-h400/IMG_3687.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Soon after the drive from Orvieto to the farm you need to turn of the autostrada and finish the trip by going on winding provincial roads through the Tuscan hills. Although the curves and the speed of my driving might have caused both Rick and Emmy a bit of nausea the views of the Tuscan hills in the vibrant greens of springtime were well worth it. We pulled off the road at several points to just marvel at the beauty. Even in a cloudy cool day the scenery was perfetto.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPWwBb3LauQC8fByMGdxprpDZ7-DNDxynLSFtH3fp6atf_Yo2PEu8dlrOMuQu4C2XYYttm2SgyZnKfDvxFhtRtGo971mZmeGrI9NKBOBLktT0JPYMxd9vRUBJiZy2hxJ7ePZ-5973GrzELQO2hzsRATChZk4JwMk5e6zaM6CzFck0qIRl5l8gC675kw/s4032/IMG_3690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPWwBb3LauQC8fByMGdxprpDZ7-DNDxynLSFtH3fp6atf_Yo2PEu8dlrOMuQu4C2XYYttm2SgyZnKfDvxFhtRtGo971mZmeGrI9NKBOBLktT0JPYMxd9vRUBJiZy2hxJ7ePZ-5973GrzELQO2hzsRATChZk4JwMk5e6zaM6CzFck0qIRl5l8gC675kw/w300-h400/IMG_3690.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Then we arrived. All of us together at the farm, and we couldn't have been happier. Flowers on our table from Laura and Eric, olive oil from the Saraceni's olive orchard and eggs from the hen house and a tart Stefania had made were in our apartment to welcome us back.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBcV5UiisNWbkUiwB-84-ROwCAZS2YNd7Dah59FsyDqlOfAqEfYDNm_-9L7UzpMYI1E3-5tyN_ga2lSz09-LX9719V41DfkEDrf2sNvtEYAXe6WX2JmsYeEh9q_Ci2eV3VnlMjaXBxc6mTFYpzRjkh367yOk7sEFvpZHbordahDGHh0K3pz05qr5OAA/s4032/IMG_3695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBcV5UiisNWbkUiwB-84-ROwCAZS2YNd7Dah59FsyDqlOfAqEfYDNm_-9L7UzpMYI1E3-5tyN_ga2lSz09-LX9719V41DfkEDrf2sNvtEYAXe6WX2JmsYeEh9q_Ci2eV3VnlMjaXBxc6mTFYpzRjkh367yOk7sEFvpZHbordahDGHh0K3pz05qr5OAA/w300-h400/IMG_3695.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Stefania and Allesandro were right there to great us. Laura and Eric had been the first to arrive. It was time revisited. The group was intact for a week together. For the Saraceni's it had been two years without any guests. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_SXx2tEGsLk49SMyu-GUjBPPWsy85FI6TyL10mefz8tKGnAbBaoUMBITijOmbwSHq7rm0t8Xh2VmeAjaQKgZmMR7IwZTxO8J6hzQ6Zq-De_zDfedILqgi5WC1Om8nObUavblqRBDad5XxnjfYnvSeD-fBfYtCACKU3u44d8Pq3hPW-SpKTHk5mpwsQ/s4032/IMG_3698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_SXx2tEGsLk49SMyu-GUjBPPWsy85FI6TyL10mefz8tKGnAbBaoUMBITijOmbwSHq7rm0t8Xh2VmeAjaQKgZmMR7IwZTxO8J6hzQ6Zq-De_zDfedILqgi5WC1Om8nObUavblqRBDad5XxnjfYnvSeD-fBfYtCACKU3u44d8Pq3hPW-SpKTHk5mpwsQ/w300-h400/IMG_3698.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We were happy to be among the first to return. Nothing would have more appropriate than a family style dinner to end the day.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRORvT0YgXtB-uSCrrHuJs3y_j-4ycFqRGNKrvBmiv-PZwBnbFhCZBSjppWAF-QclYzRkTlmyheIEo8wDKW4dP8QKhK20_30cccNHVzCyApcONcnr0dy5XmX4sr-jAA4O4hA6zp_QYn1eQPnFjjDorgn2bpV1rHTSlYN_3nGRipqyBytxTT1QUbNDOg/s4032/IMG_3702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRORvT0YgXtB-uSCrrHuJs3y_j-4ycFqRGNKrvBmiv-PZwBnbFhCZBSjppWAF-QclYzRkTlmyheIEo8wDKW4dP8QKhK20_30cccNHVzCyApcONcnr0dy5XmX4sr-jAA4O4hA6zp_QYn1eQPnFjjDorgn2bpV1rHTSlYN_3nGRipqyBytxTT1QUbNDOg/w300-h400/IMG_3702.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We all gathered in the main room for a ragu of wild boar and a main dish of pork with oranges for dinner prepared by Stefania and Allesandro. Food like this always tastes better with friends.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7074202090031564026.post-970009108758611322022-05-07T17:24:00.001-05:002022-05-08T12:24:05.700-05:00ITALY SPRING OF 2022 - DAY 3, THE LAST FULL DAY IN ROME<p><span style="color: #f1c232;">TRAGEDY DIVERTED</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNr3IqigQ0KJHDEoYG-RuP366sD5isYYKWSg-JWFf6dag_-kYUleaF0RsAvH1zjyRV3o_62db7UWYcxu0KdRaCIuZcuTw5Tsf0ncNXdrf84mAfyxpuULNJOABTcZeSPM0pnjiw1_x4a6lI9Lr18RA7asUuduroLJReXjL95kMg47iEjvfAf-nj_1oM8Q/s4032/IMG_3574.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNr3IqigQ0KJHDEoYG-RuP366sD5isYYKWSg-JWFf6dag_-kYUleaF0RsAvH1zjyRV3o_62db7UWYcxu0KdRaCIuZcuTw5Tsf0ncNXdrf84mAfyxpuULNJOABTcZeSPM0pnjiw1_x4a6lI9Lr18RA7asUuduroLJReXjL95kMg47iEjvfAf-nj_1oM8Q/w300-h400/IMG_3574.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We started out the day with an eight o'clock breakfast call. We were all a bit more chipper than the day before. We had a plan where we would all meet for breakfast, some in their pajamas, and then go back to our rooms to get ready. It was designated that Adam and I would check out the route to the car rental place so the following morning wouldn't come as a major fiasco. I am writing this as it is happening so my next blog entry might differ with this one if calamity ensues. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGPYw32o9p_kndSRO9AYK-t4hi7B9HatdoCZbxnV_3NwmI5s77A9yCEGij0ubW1aQdbCQwxBdGK-P8Q35qMnhPqMit4MYKCwikwz1rTJonu5JxFlicjblQYWloesR7t0QO3e7hSZWGO9ryFj714BL-LnM7WuEKxJnewigycZyUA_JzxK8XlGm3hhAVg/s1140/Shopping-alla-stazione-Termini-negozi-e1478792727254-1140x660.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="1140" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGPYw32o9p_kndSRO9AYK-t4hi7B9HatdoCZbxnV_3NwmI5s77A9yCEGij0ubW1aQdbCQwxBdGK-P8Q35qMnhPqMit4MYKCwikwz1rTJonu5JxFlicjblQYWloesR7t0QO3e7hSZWGO9ryFj714BL-LnM7WuEKxJnewigycZyUA_JzxK8XlGm3hhAVg/w400-h231/Shopping-alla-stazione-Termini-negozi-e1478792727254-1140x660.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>When I placed the rental car reservation I was told the pick-up place at Rome Termini was in easy walking distance. It wasn't but the walk was interesting so Adam and I persevered. On our previous trips when we rented a car from Avis to get us to Tuscany the Avis rental office was two blocks away from the hotel, but the ravages of covid had closed that office so now we would have to do some new calculating as to how to find the path to the rental counter and then a driving route back to the hotel. Tomorrow will tell how successful we were.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXnRIELFK5zol5Pb5-5jkuyzcZztydr98t0qCUXLsHM4edQ4LezcaVLNnZYEQkoUoowU3Cxm5A8pKBLO7ttbSoRDnGVnR4Z58QNqKxnSEBrydR6ZuRi_-zo-u9DFHFgtD-FpW5Y6m4fYCBCUGCCmkuvvjdVvNrmYXylvK5Ae-_7THb4zAzrmgOG7W7ng/s2431/IMG_3604%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2431" data-original-width="1892" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXnRIELFK5zol5Pb5-5jkuyzcZztydr98t0qCUXLsHM4edQ4LezcaVLNnZYEQkoUoowU3Cxm5A8pKBLO7ttbSoRDnGVnR4Z58QNqKxnSEBrydR6ZuRi_-zo-u9DFHFgtD-FpW5Y6m4fYCBCUGCCmkuvvjdVvNrmYXylvK5Ae-_7THb4zAzrmgOG7W7ng/w311-h400/IMG_3604%20copy.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>At around eleven in the morning we all gathered again with the intent of heading to the Pantheon as a group. Walking through Rome is always filled with surprises. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmghex-pYYrOra3f84lquLjkmVnrNXG5sFj7BmVqo35i_StHkVTL0doALmnN91qnUWds3XaqLzgXjhgf2KvY8XCAR7UjqLS6STuxddMuXBgy_wEE6tMAtYzPwxFfjOrevt7E31kUt2t4Cn8hQ3cFKJBMlgBGuz3TRdYeY2OJ_eVKcwJLrYQZeYRdWTNg/s4032/IMG_3601.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmghex-pYYrOra3f84lquLjkmVnrNXG5sFj7BmVqo35i_StHkVTL0doALmnN91qnUWds3XaqLzgXjhgf2KvY8XCAR7UjqLS6STuxddMuXBgy_wEE6tMAtYzPwxFfjOrevt7E31kUt2t4Cn8hQ3cFKJBMlgBGuz3TRdYeY2OJ_eVKcwJLrYQZeYRdWTNg/w300-h400/IMG_3601.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Around every corner there is something unexpected and worth a picture or stopping to gawk. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezPwOr0ORwMrOavNprBS-iyqktiTHD83-yoKKNejbN6qIOvX4i7Iavj3_DYs8h5yEXa9u9-yR5r_DohWq5IeuF-C_EOO7iT0Y4iU1UeJqbDubgcNNlSZYpCur2mUEM7fODH-xXotUPCVU0NRaAfMoHqJFnlkOFGSk34UkkCwHFbuhoDc1SeN5mcuRIg/s4032/IMG_3615.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezPwOr0ORwMrOavNprBS-iyqktiTHD83-yoKKNejbN6qIOvX4i7Iavj3_DYs8h5yEXa9u9-yR5r_DohWq5IeuF-C_EOO7iT0Y4iU1UeJqbDubgcNNlSZYpCur2mUEM7fODH-xXotUPCVU0NRaAfMoHqJFnlkOFGSk34UkkCwHFbuhoDc1SeN5mcuRIg/w300-h400/IMG_3615.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Architecturally the Pantheon is a marvel of engineering. It is also a photogenic celebrity for the architectural crowd.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8vnZtUcWTeTrgINefYWxTDiB327brLXAmy_V9fCxbu8GSbin59b2LrSALEv-owMfX9ytzO88I6-Iiz8Gog7wA0nKEHY4uyqk4xYdUJLGreec03OdPiAahhXXRi3kgfWZeSukrHWxSoVFmWdB84iILLbcNcSwEKjmsVPaUQCFoArdJ0VeSssh2vtPbA/s4032/IMG_3617.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8vnZtUcWTeTrgINefYWxTDiB327brLXAmy_V9fCxbu8GSbin59b2LrSALEv-owMfX9ytzO88I6-Iiz8Gog7wA0nKEHY4uyqk4xYdUJLGreec03OdPiAahhXXRi3kgfWZeSukrHWxSoVFmWdB84iILLbcNcSwEKjmsVPaUQCFoArdJ0VeSssh2vtPbA/w300-h400/IMG_3617.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I had been several times so my focus was on the details but the highlight of going to the Pantheon wasn't the building this time it was the entertainment happening outside.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9UYioi-rPGoYu5NfsL3evl1dve2MOD2HQZfYMusYNnPztwjgKtXXleDDv_CzpOhJNVQP0PqigezFj9PxbUDP_rWyQjY81yr9jZktQD_koe-uJoErG0PVWk8ZbGxbBJRrjF1bzlk0suMLRzOjJyRN2On6CxkQxobdva5ZlQEUeEYk2UulbVl7IgQzEA/s1202/Screen%20Shot%202022-05-07%20at%2011.45.54%20PM.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="862" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9UYioi-rPGoYu5NfsL3evl1dve2MOD2HQZfYMusYNnPztwjgKtXXleDDv_CzpOhJNVQP0PqigezFj9PxbUDP_rWyQjY81yr9jZktQD_koe-uJoErG0PVWk8ZbGxbBJRrjF1bzlk0suMLRzOjJyRN2On6CxkQxobdva5ZlQEUeEYk2UulbVl7IgQzEA/w286-h400/Screen%20Shot%202022-05-07%20at%2011.45.54%20PM.png" width="286" /></a></div><br />A group of young men in tails splattered with paint and decorated with medals and patches of accomplishment had formed a circle between the Pantheon and the Fountain of the Pantheon. We weren't sure but we think they were from the Netherlands and they were there to entertain. There are times when fate steps in and brings you an unexpected treat. This serenade was it.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjST_0YMMRma1KMsQKL4Vuqie7mZ66TklvTjB0-YJkoDLAKSrLTqOm9tMA7ye5YQVaJ2BpUPOkCRBczBuXB0xKhcIBFyNfcldXQO_yUKxf8zZMfe9CkKCxANlbOXUf9DkihcX1F4jM_aSk1_7n-pKxT3j3AVbM-dJmZmX_vi75A1XyY9LFnO2qjLTMtvg/s1167/Screen%20Shot%202022-05-07%20at%2011.46.48%20PM.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1167" data-original-width="870" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjST_0YMMRma1KMsQKL4Vuqie7mZ66TklvTjB0-YJkoDLAKSrLTqOm9tMA7ye5YQVaJ2BpUPOkCRBczBuXB0xKhcIBFyNfcldXQO_yUKxf8zZMfe9CkKCxANlbOXUf9DkihcX1F4jM_aSk1_7n-pKxT3j3AVbM-dJmZmX_vi75A1XyY9LFnO2qjLTMtvg/w299-h400/Screen%20Shot%202022-05-07%20at%2011.46.48%20PM.png" width="299" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-GP3tzJwmbqgtw6v-WJzrhumB8GqvnKBjdDHxYLrokcbvltbgQHn1IZQqjz7sl2ceO8YmFxqjQTISwpBvMITJ0GOqjt5RSlCgZ2L9J452Fxe2FZPGT_1l0X6Uiy5FEnd0fuvzQrOnQNKz_eGt1U3DVjuBE0M210FF_OilIvIdFFoZJRt042OXOD0-w/s1297/Screen%20Shot%202022-05-07%20at%2011.47.05%20PM.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1297" data-original-width="867" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-GP3tzJwmbqgtw6v-WJzrhumB8GqvnKBjdDHxYLrokcbvltbgQHn1IZQqjz7sl2ceO8YmFxqjQTISwpBvMITJ0GOqjt5RSlCgZ2L9J452Fxe2FZPGT_1l0X6Uiy5FEnd0fuvzQrOnQNKz_eGt1U3DVjuBE0M210FF_OilIvIdFFoZJRt042OXOD0-w/w268-h400/Screen%20Shot%202022-05-07%20at%2011.47.05%20PM.png" width="268" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDymLLYjn4rR9Ma9CPJkSSO96Jl1DynK5qxuFqHXyLw27dEK8h938vrhdOIc8UX83mJpIKptjLoWgIF01z5hGGEfEMG5pi8ecbmzj4-4pF15eIbUdM75f72fM2poDoYggRyQNQFiDW7vKhy7TyFUxAfKcZeCrumtuEclkvALm7ThB4-p-51siKLSIMOw/s2592/StanleyTucciCNN.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1728" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDymLLYjn4rR9Ma9CPJkSSO96Jl1DynK5qxuFqHXyLw27dEK8h938vrhdOIc8UX83mJpIKptjLoWgIF01z5hGGEfEMG5pi8ecbmzj4-4pF15eIbUdM75f72fM2poDoYggRyQNQFiDW7vKhy7TyFUxAfKcZeCrumtuEclkvALm7ThB4-p-51siKLSIMOw/w266-h400/StanleyTucciCNN.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>Rick had been doing his research that in this case means watching a lot of TV, especially those programs having to do with food. On the hit list was "Stanley Tucci Searching for Italy". He wrote down every place Stanley went to and it was a goal to hit as least one of them while we were here. Since we were by the Pantheon and the address we had said it was near the Pantheon we selected Armando al Pantheon, a 50-year old institution recommended by food lovers and Stanley. Everyone got out there GPS's and started map questing the restaurant.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9u23DMqH5BHKLvPh5oAE3_hXlz1fe-JJxH_yEK6JTyyXCfd_nlxsJqDlr5nV_kcSP8atzqek8NUxHLoyStAkgKkFIAhVnAgX1JoBhSjyn1YbVDHrpp4oK-YIsXXTbnx-EX0prPYNSgyHCffGOkFB4IU4Ymo_hzlv8VsJhmr3pSxPf8lDffx4thJRcQ/s4032/IMG_3623.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9u23DMqH5BHKLvPh5oAE3_hXlz1fe-JJxH_yEK6JTyyXCfd_nlxsJqDlr5nV_kcSP8atzqek8NUxHLoyStAkgKkFIAhVnAgX1JoBhSjyn1YbVDHrpp4oK-YIsXXTbnx-EX0prPYNSgyHCffGOkFB4IU4Ymo_hzlv8VsJhmr3pSxPf8lDffx4thJRcQ/w300-h400/IMG_3623.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Some how we managed to pull up directions on more than one phone that had us circling through streets of inner Rome and finally ending up back at the Spanish Steps with both JoHannah and Emmy nursing blisters and Roby letting us know if we didn't stop for food soon he was going to faint. We bought band-aids for the girls, gave up on our GPS's and hired two cabs to get us to the restaurant.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEhg3K8bjdkcFZPdvAx5rHD7rl3E68h4puITbANUT1dC0BVDX6FhlvAIVpx302xXnM7GuuxYVxtLzQCC3glToetmLfJDUFph3okFZ_XGGA1weTRYkLtR-QCqn9HRlNQpoja2MGdPhnjB8p9xU4NppvtxQ7caIElvXkS9mIz0Na1AS2oVhaqaaMp-xOg/s4032/IMG_3625.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEhg3K8bjdkcFZPdvAx5rHD7rl3E68h4puITbANUT1dC0BVDX6FhlvAIVpx302xXnM7GuuxYVxtLzQCC3glToetmLfJDUFph3okFZ_XGGA1weTRYkLtR-QCqn9HRlNQpoja2MGdPhnjB8p9xU4NppvtxQ7caIElvXkS9mIz0Na1AS2oVhaqaaMp-xOg/w300-h400/IMG_3625.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Fifteen minutes later we found ourselves back at the Pantheon and at the entrance to Armando al Pantheon, literally right next to the Pantheon. We had all wanted a late lunch and this circuitous way of arrival made sure we had a late lunch.<p></p><p>Even though a sign outside the door said, "Fully Booked" they somehow managed to get us a table for six and we were happy, all of us but one. Emmy thought she had left her phone in the taxi. The panic and pain in her eyes had all of us jumping in to help and totally ignoring the waiter who was trying to get us to focus on the menu. Everyone chimed in with a solution and of course none of them were possible. The taxi was long gone and we couldn't call the phone because her phone was on airplane mode to make sure we weren't being charged roaming fees. Tears. No one wants to lose their phone, her whole life was on that phone. Fate once again stepped in and after having emptied her purse and checked all her pockets there was the phone on the floor having slipped off her seat. Now we could enjoy lunch. Wine and aperitifs were ordered immediately</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9My7XbxsGuT2tGZfZqnCn0VjxXby2DzQNzIBpcqv6prrZSDkUu7DWBfONnnG8qOE_MbVvwHxmXiJ7zav38ySjePQFJBCusxko9c1Y5J9GUdCoq5qDeMk8N5sKD6g1jRT5T0mapXvtnnoCsA-TOhuop4EVr7hekccAk8vfk5tpCgoNUYg2qqShafyMw/s3523/IMG_3627.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3523" data-original-width="2862" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9My7XbxsGuT2tGZfZqnCn0VjxXby2DzQNzIBpcqv6prrZSDkUu7DWBfONnnG8qOE_MbVvwHxmXiJ7zav38ySjePQFJBCusxko9c1Y5J9GUdCoq5qDeMk8N5sKD6g1jRT5T0mapXvtnnoCsA-TOhuop4EVr7hekccAk8vfk5tpCgoNUYg2qqShafyMw/w325-h400/IMG_3627.jpg" width="325" /></a></div>It wasn't on the menu but all of us signed up for Roman artichokes served braised, with the stem intact and the choke taken out, then drizzled with olive oil and lemon. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6FF9dapOEd4Gxm9KHGzhkeuIRbWULvuKSRkuBdd5gB3aZ17vTrxp_Dh6NbhGAsiudynt2Ob7R7OO9OFIP8z0VatiNzL7kR6lo5dltHYxRjhz1JkX0M7mmH2uJaJ0vvv0xjiwN7Tpjp-wyXnXoqyPTutYx7Rf74_p7pBdLP5epSdK8KZEGHMZGiirAQ/s4032/IMG_3630.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6FF9dapOEd4Gxm9KHGzhkeuIRbWULvuKSRkuBdd5gB3aZ17vTrxp_Dh6NbhGAsiudynt2Ob7R7OO9OFIP8z0VatiNzL7kR6lo5dltHYxRjhz1JkX0M7mmH2uJaJ0vvv0xjiwN7Tpjp-wyXnXoqyPTutYx7Rf74_p7pBdLP5epSdK8KZEGHMZGiirAQ/w300-h400/IMG_3630.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>This was followed by a taste test between yesterday's pici and Armando's spaghetti with pecorino romano cheese and black pepper. For me it was a toss up. It's hard to beat these simple pasta dishes filled with flavor. Don't ask me about the calories.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1ujt-IvlXscDWPshmdSsYcB2VCf1Hl6y6dXcCbRz-Ib9jRo4YhjjBCvdRjPh_B7JB7yVPc-QEZKfAYk3Sc5hGacyqlC40yM5TIyGA84FB1AyUCikBGO9RfxzXEE5KuCzGkB8ElhEsoO_bNvjROqQ-lPPr-GAAsB2L4LUXrzgBhxmHd_LS1x7KpnU4w/s4032/IMG_3632.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1ujt-IvlXscDWPshmdSsYcB2VCf1Hl6y6dXcCbRz-Ib9jRo4YhjjBCvdRjPh_B7JB7yVPc-QEZKfAYk3Sc5hGacyqlC40yM5TIyGA84FB1AyUCikBGO9RfxzXEE5KuCzGkB8ElhEsoO_bNvjROqQ-lPPr-GAAsB2L4LUXrzgBhxmHd_LS1x7KpnU4w/w300-h400/IMG_3632.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I topped off my meal with a dish called Maritozzo romano del "Forno Rosciloli" a brioche sweet bread stuffed with vanilla ice cream and topped with chocolate bits. Perfetto<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUYHgveVkCx-o6QHQHu7YewuYhBZBnBvSWEShIrFTcVI9wDNRnJW4PSbsqsF7WB4gQUsbbFJOj1wvNG-qj-PT-81a7D2X-PEVR5AqKKp3g3806PFzkeDLxa1oTb6acjfeIIgGQolfSCxXW33gZff4k8JCO9i4-YjuKEbM0v2MlEBOXWJrAhUfvI7RbQ/s2991/IMG_3599.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2991" data-original-width="2989" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUYHgveVkCx-o6QHQHu7YewuYhBZBnBvSWEShIrFTcVI9wDNRnJW4PSbsqsF7WB4gQUsbbFJOj1wvNG-qj-PT-81a7D2X-PEVR5AqKKp3g3806PFzkeDLxa1oTb6acjfeIIgGQolfSCxXW33gZff4k8JCO9i4-YjuKEbM0v2MlEBOXWJrAhUfvI7RbQ/w400-h400/IMG_3599.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>After lunch we all broke ranks. Roby took off on his own, Adam went to bike along the Tiber, Emmy, JoHannah and Rick got in a cab to take them back to the Spanish Steps and shopping and I went walking around. Exhausted once again we all headed back to the hotel to rest and relax before we went on the trail of another meal.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuIqO--b8yQE7fvYNv3TtXBRoKsa-NgWh2iL6GzDdhYc-qBC7jFuX4cDnwVHPxI-PzIW6_OJ3YM8e8hJHJu1e4TrB5-Iqk2P9RqcYzm64MQQ76ELlnXVAzffLeEKj46zNw-PXAOe0R1E_d9ajgLhyttECX3VExFS8IMfIqC4SOWjLNfZ0HlfPfHdsQQ/s4032/IMG_3633.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuIqO--b8yQE7fvYNv3TtXBRoKsa-NgWh2iL6GzDdhYc-qBC7jFuX4cDnwVHPxI-PzIW6_OJ3YM8e8hJHJu1e4TrB5-Iqk2P9RqcYzm64MQQ76ELlnXVAzffLeEKj46zNw-PXAOe0R1E_d9ajgLhyttECX3VExFS8IMfIqC4SOWjLNfZ0HlfPfHdsQQ/w300-h400/IMG_3633.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>This time nature got in our way. A huge rainstorm pelted the city nonstop. It was a wash out and none of us were wanting to battle Mother Nature.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAArr3tOr-xnJncFNGxia-colrbauPbFKV2r446TqsGZ9QfVfAOLjaRNV9LjumYvHEnAyQVpgoDPTgMIbf7waXyogzFR21B2_l0Eeu1nAGok_ZKJ4YBEOz15-kMs686UdHXyU2XzH1u1H-HvyHjRKBeriJwCPg5j9C1WKttNQtZGeuqUJJfdnxVEhZBw/s4032/IMG_3638.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAArr3tOr-xnJncFNGxia-colrbauPbFKV2r446TqsGZ9QfVfAOLjaRNV9LjumYvHEnAyQVpgoDPTgMIbf7waXyogzFR21B2_l0Eeu1nAGok_ZKJ4YBEOz15-kMs686UdHXyU2XzH1u1H-HvyHjRKBeriJwCPg5j9C1WKttNQtZGeuqUJJfdnxVEhZBw/w300-h400/IMG_3638.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>We settled on the hotel and drank away under the supervision of Alessandro, our man with looks of an Adonis. Both women and men are apt to fall under his spell.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOkV5zdXSmldP432G5DXbwOrdlFQ2VJuDAekOx8HZjBl_BO7FGgkGkONSC-NGewJMxqDo7lqgT0a2H-nxm4zOPQwWeywOa01SvCYrO78gRlQ4uZqFOyfUUyJssizUkOW4DEFqKDxiHesZIBKNupyEoR_mAOuWJXN3dTn8SrO9s4iUqHLHD3_ANEMfGA/s4032/IMG_3640.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOkV5zdXSmldP432G5DXbwOrdlFQ2VJuDAekOx8HZjBl_BO7FGgkGkONSC-NGewJMxqDo7lqgT0a2H-nxm4zOPQwWeywOa01SvCYrO78gRlQ4uZqFOyfUUyJssizUkOW4DEFqKDxiHesZIBKNupyEoR_mAOuWJXN3dTn8SrO9s4iUqHLHD3_ANEMfGA/w300-h400/IMG_3640.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Just take a look and you'll see why and to top it off he gifted us with a bottle of wine before we left.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtX8mdHrt2hJamaQ7NLZutTWhy4UlHEik9VWqykYhRHG4ZY95XMjVstxwEnfm6wOwTydeN7g6G-j6dyaWfUTpmEH6qlfdWfFe8xq6PYYkgkfr7lmKOFZjL72pJ5l7N7k-xg3mbXg2fQPunhjDYEuOFJU2kPhkiWnbmS3UTpKB7ZjMzBE1q_xfb-bJqSg/s4032/IMG_3641.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtX8mdHrt2hJamaQ7NLZutTWhy4UlHEik9VWqykYhRHG4ZY95XMjVstxwEnfm6wOwTydeN7g6G-j6dyaWfUTpmEH6qlfdWfFe8xq6PYYkgkfr7lmKOFZjL72pJ5l7N7k-xg3mbXg2fQPunhjDYEuOFJU2kPhkiWnbmS3UTpKB7ZjMzBE1q_xfb-bJqSg/w300-h400/IMG_3641.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It's my weakness. I can't leave a meal without something sweet. I debated and debated and finally gave in. I raced down the Via Veneto and found the Gelatist open with an array of amazing flavors. I had the gelatist behind the counter fill a 10 euro box of three flavors and she threw in a stack of mini cones. We gorged in bed on gelato almost cleaning out the entire box and I was very happy.<p></p><p><br /></p><p> </p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script>(function(d){
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<div class="fb-like-box" data-href="http://www.facebook.com/platform" data-width="292" data-show-faces="true" data-border-color="orange" data-stream="true" data-header="true"></div></div>Rick Shaver & Lee Melahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05588859319004170135noreply@blogger.com0