Butterflies in the Window Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/glass 10 x 38" 25 x 96cm
Butterflies on canvas Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 10 x 20" 25 x 50 cm
Cyclamen Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 12 x 18 30 x 45 cm BUY
Single Butterfly Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 20 x 14" 50 x 35cm BUY
The Band plays on Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 10 x 20" 25 x 50cm BUY
Italian Beach Blair Pessemier Oil/canvas 23 x 47 60 x 120cm BUY
Just what we needed
…a brass band playing Italian songs. Everyone in the neighborhood turned out, and
then some, passing by in cars. It’s been
raining, fog, raining, fog, raining for days and when the clouds parted at 9:00
this morning, I heard the strains of brass instruments.
The Alpini, our favorite mountain division, turned out in
full numbers, wearing their green felt hats with eagle feathers. The band was in fact from Samone, a
neighboring town. We rushed over to see
what was going on.
The 4 November (I know this is the 6) is some sort of peace
and Italian pride day, an excuse to dust off the horns and tight fitting
uniforms and have at it. I have been
reading a wonderful book about Italy, sent by a French friend (luckily it’s in
English): The Queen Bee of Tuscany. It is about Janet Ross the English community settling
near Florence, turn of the last century.
It was very revealing, about Italy’s unification, and both world wars
from the eyes of expats.
Janet Ross held court outside of Florence, with the likes of
Bernard Berenson and Kenneth Clark. It inspires
me to increase my Sunday lunch events: we’re having one today.
I am making a squash soup, with chutney accents; boeuf
bourguignon; eggplant involtini; sweet
roasted peppers; roasted potatoes and carrots;
fried radicchio; Blair made apple cake
for dessert. Of course, there’s nuts and
cheese and preserved meats. I wrote the menu on an envelope from a
Florida friend who sends me clippings about fun trips in Italy. I know she’d be happy to know her paper is
the source of our dinner menu.
It has been a difficult week with much rain and sickness on
my part. It might have been a reaction
to my flu shot, or the fact Harika came home with a bit of recently rough-slaughtered
chicken. Ludovico is on the warpath, as some nocturnal creature
is making dinner of his fowl. That, in
itself, is enough to spoil this former Parisien’s week. For me, chicken comes from the store.
I dreamt of butterflies and the beach this week, and I suspect
Blair has been too. We’d hope to go to
beaches south of Ancona next week, but the influx of Italians displaced by the
earthquakes has made a room difficult to find for a fair price. So Rimini is in our sites. A day at the beach can make everything OK.
