Archive for the ‘scenes from village life’ Category
july is burning
I’ve waited to write July’s Monthly Musing until the very end of the month–hoping that I would develop more positive feelings about it as July marched on.
Unfortunately with each passing day, more and more of our gorgeous rolling hills have gone from green and brown to charred black, and there’s not much positive I can take from that.
You may have read about the fires throughout central and southern Italy (as well as Greece), and believe me, the stories are not exaggerated.
Some say that many of the fires have been set deliberately but to be honest with you, I don’t really buy into that. Sure people burn off their land here all the time, but they’re pretty good about controlling it, and not many are doing it in 120°F–most of that was done in June when temps were reasonable.
They say the motive is to clear the way for new hotels, villas, and pastures
but from where I’m sitting, it’s just a whole lot of beautiful olive trees that have been taking the hit around here–and if any hotels or villas sprout up on the hillside, I’ll let you know.
I’m sure that there *are* some pyromaniacs around, but I personally feel that blaming arsonists for the rash of fires is just another way for the powers-that-be to shake their heads in derision toward central and especially southern Italy and to draw attention away from the fact that they haven’t been very successful in managing the fires.
But maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, we have been lucky to escape any damage up until now, but the hill just across the road from us wasn’t so lucky; yesterday afternoon it went up in flames as I was down at the beach swimming near where a helicopter was dipping into the sea for water to take up there. A couple weeks ago, our neighboring village lost two houses, although no one was injured.
I posted here about the planes fighting the fires, but things have gotten so much worse since then. Tourists have been killed in Puglia and one of our pilots died in Abruzzo when his Canadair crashed into a mountain near L’Aquila.
Greece lost two of its own in a similar way.
And so I sit here on another scorcher, although it’s certainly cooler than it has been, waiting for the wind to pick up as it normally does at this time of day and then continues to increase until it reaches what feels like hurricane force.
And I’m sorry to say that I smell smoke.
Smoke, flames, blackened earth
July two-thousand seven
I’ll never forget.
On a different, more cheerful note, do check out my post entitled “What’s the Deal with Lycopene?: Health Benefits of Tomatoes” on TomatoCasual.com.
And let’s hope for a better August.
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[tags]july, fires, forest fires, italy, southern italy, calabria, haiku[/tags]
Breaking Up Isn’t Hard to Do: My Decision to Leave the Law
OK, continuing in my answers to the questions you asked to help me fill out JennieBoo‘s eight things meme, (see parts one and two of my answers if you need to catch up), today I’m taking on NYC/Caribbean ragazza’s million-dollar domanda regarding my move to Italy:
“How did you decide to leave the law? Were you afraid about making money?”
This question required much more than a few sentence answer, so I’m devoting a whole blog post to it—but I’ll start with the quick answers:
Quite easily, and of course.
Now to expand a bit. Beware for a roundabout, but we’ll get there.
I never actually wanted to be a lawyer. Well, maybe when I was in high school, but what do you really know about anything then anyway? Have you seen photos of yourself from those years?
*shudder*
And yet it was always set in my head to go to law school once I finished college. I think, quite honestly, that it was just so ingrained in me (by myself) by the time my senior year came around, that I just did it without much thinking. That’s what smart, overachieving (working class) people do, right? They do things like become doctors and lawyers. Writers? Too risky!
Sure, I considered grad school for English or history, but never really seriously—and only as an additional part to law school.
Truth be told, I always knew I’d end up writing for a living. I could’ve done an Master of Fine Arts or gone to work for a publishing company right out of college (and perhaps I should have), but I figured the law would give me something solid, respectable if you will, as a back-up. Not a back-up career, mind you, but a back-up skill set.
I promise to post another time on the wisdom of this thinking, but I’ll get too off-track if I do that right now.
So, suffice it to say, that my decision to leave the law wasn’t very difficult; when the itch to move to Italy struck, I was in the middle of a 2-year appellate clerkship, which for those who don’t know, is fancy schmancy way of saying you work for a judge, researching and writing memorandums on the cases s/he hears.
I was going to have to do something different when the clerkship was up in August of 2003, and after I got stuck on Italy, I thought, well, here’s your chance.
Was I worried about making money? Sure, but I had some savings to tide me over for a while. I had done a bit of freelancing/contract work throughout law school, so I carried those contacts with me; since then I’ve gained many more of course.
Now to be clear, I’m still actually a lawyer (paying dues and whatnot) and I still do legal work–I just don’t do it the traditional way in a firm or, you know, the United States. The Internet is a lovely thing (now with broadband!).
Changing careers is always difficult—doing it while changing countries/continents/languages/cultures too, well, perhaps that’s kind of insane.
And if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again–exactly as I did the first time.
Sometimes you just need to be brave enough to take that first step,
and the rest seems to happen on its own.
Fighting Forest Fires in Calabria with Canadair
It’s a bird…it’s a plane…it’s a ship…
It’s all three! In one photo!
Trust me, they’re all there if you look closely enough.
The plane in question is one that drops water on raging forest fires — a “Canadair.”
Here are some closer looks at the plane, albeit out of focus. I haven’t had much practice photographing low-flying planes, obviously. But the sky? Ah! Did someone say endless blue?
Aren’t propellers just precious?The day after these photos, this was the scene on the railing of my balcony:
We were blessed with the wet stuff only for about 7 minutes, though, so the planes were out again the next day–they’re a pretty regular feature around here this time of year unfortunately.
As terrible as it is that we have to deal with the fires, I do rather enjoy following the planes as they make their circuitous routes from the sea and back, over and over again. There’s something rather soothing in the rumble, perhaps my knowing they’re doing their best to keep us all safe.
Sights like this also help ease my mind and soul:
if the blog’s a rockin’ (and a random photo!)
I’m honored to announce that I have been named a Rockin’ Girl Blogger by Grace at Sandier Pastures. I just stumbled across this Dubai-based blog recently, and I’ve been a faithful reader ever since.
Grazie mille Grace!
Update: Just after I posted this, I saw that JennieBoo had tagged me too, so thanks JennieBoo (with a button coming back at you)!
And in all of life’s irony, I’m also choosing today to announce that blogging will likely be slowing down a bit around here as we slide deeper into the summer schedule. P and I are moving down to his house (about a minute walk away) over the next couple months–there’s quite a bit of work on his house to be done so it’ll be in stages. Lots o’ work ahead my friends.
In fact, I spent much of this weekend (when I wasn’t hanging out with Cherrye!) packing and also trying to fix up the Photobucket fiasco in which most of my blog’s photos were replaced with “bandwidth exceeded” messages. I’m almost there, but not quite, so bear with me.
Anyway, now I will pass along the Rockin’ Girl Blogger title–first to all my fellow She Who Blogs members, and also to five worthy girl bloggers (although there are many, many more on my sidebar–if you’re there, I think you’re rockin’ too!).
In no particular order:
1. -R- of And You Know What Else whose latest post ends like this:
When we went to Target today, I was wearing a new t-shirt from Target, a new skirt from Target, and gold sandals from Target. For some reason, I am self-conscious when I wear an all Target ensemble to Target (or an all The Gap ensemble to The Gap, for example). Like someone will notice and think, Try shopping somewhere else for once, you freak!
2. Stefanie of Stefanie Says, who wrote in a recent post about home breathalyzer tests:
I won’t go into the details (because I’m not entirely clear on them myself and also because it’s not my story to tell), but I will say that she ended up missing that party I hosted recently not because she flaked out, fell asleep, or got a better offer, but because while I was mixing mojitos with my new muddler, she was bonding with prostitutes and drunkards in a city jail. Good times.
3. Somepinkflowers who recently shared with us a lovely Tourist Tuesday through St. Augustine, Florida:
Today’s Tourist Tuesday posting is brought to you by Our Lady of the Looking Up. Her prayer is not to stop and smell the roses; her prayer is to stop and stretch your neck, chin held high, and look around. See there what you have been missing.
4. Wanderlust Scarlett of From the Shores of Introspect and Retrospect, a fellow dreamer who recently wrote:
Sometimes following our dreams takes more bravery than we think we can muster, but once in a blue moon we find ourselves face to face with the opportunity to reach that far off neverland, where the fantasy becomes reality. It takes a very special and true kind of courage to step up to fate, close your eyes, and step off the ledge to discover that you can indeed fly.
5. Cherrye of My Bella Vita my kindred spirit here in Calabria who wrote about not being able to hold a grudge:
When I was younger I would forget I was supposed to be mad at someone, see them, and smile or wave. Then . . . dang! You just can’t go back after that and say you forgot! That negates everything.
Blog on girlfriends!
Ah, and here’s something I found while going through folders for Operation Photo Replacement. This was taken outside of Catanzaro a few months ago from a moving car, showing that sometimes it really is better to be lucky than good.
P.S. Sarala, I’m on that meme!
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[tags]rockin’ girl blogger award[/tags]
guest blogger leonardo: i am lion, hear me door
Hah! I knew she wouldn’t notice. She’s always so busy with that tiny dog of hers. When they went out for a walk this morning, I took my chance. I nicked the camera, went to Catanzaro, and I found exactly what I was looking for.
As a young cub, I remember curling up next to my father asking to hear The Story. When my father was much younger, he was beautiful, but he had always been in the shadow of his older brother, who was one of the best hunters anyone could remember.
One day as my father was roaming around the Kalahari hoping to stumble across a just-killed antelope to share with the pride, he came across a strange-looking creature playing in the sand. My father remembered his father telling him about such things–men–and that they would only harm us if we weren’t nice to them.
So my father asked him a question.
“What are you doing there?”
“I am creating,” the man responded, continuing to make large swirls in the sand without looking at my father. “What are you doing there?”
My father, seeing that this man was friendly, had decided to play a bit with him. “I am looking to kill. Roooooaaaaaaar!”
The man turned to my father, and his eyes quickly swelled with tears. He was quite thin with long hair and beard and his pale legs shook as he stumbled to his feet and stood before the lion at least twice his size. He gripped my father’s head between his hands, smoothed some sand from his mane, and kissed my father’s wet nose.
“It is you I have been looking been for,” said the man. “I am an artist, and I have been asked to design a door for a very important building in a place far from here. You must come with me. You must be my model.”
And so my father, who had not yet met my mother, left his pride for Italy, traveling with Leonardo for many years before returning to the Kalahari. My father’s face became a part of many of Italy’s most famous buildings, as well as some that aren’t so famous.
So imagine my delight when Sognatrice chose me to be her lion in the Shameless Lions Writing Circle. I was going back to Italy! I could finally see my father’s doors!
And this morning I had my chance.
For anyone who hasn’t been to the old part of Catanzaro, let me tell you, it’s confusing, and no one seems to know the names of the streets when you ask them. I wandered in and out of the tiny alleys for hours before I came to a little square, the exact place my father had once described to me.
And there he was. My father’s gorgeous eyes staring back at me after all these years.
Isn’t he beautiful? Can you see the resemblance?
My father so loved this artist and was so grateful for all of the good things he brought to him that when I was born, he named me Leonardo to honor him.
And now here I am back at home with Sognatrice. I tried to sneak the camera back to its spot, but of course my whole secretive plot was foiled when I realized that I needed her fingers to type this. She’s a good lion caretaker, though. She didn’t yell or anything.
Turns out she’s a sucker for a good story.
Lioningly yours,
Leonardo
(That’s me on the sidebar! I’m famous!)
P.S. Buon weekend!
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[tags]lions, shameless lions’ writing circle, writing, catanzaro, calabria[/tags]
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
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