Sunday, November 06, 2016

Just what we needed...

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.  

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