Archive for the ‘scenes from village life’ Category
june is…
We’re nearing the end of June which means that 2007 is just about half over. Can you believe it? Weren’t we just bringing in the new year a minute ago?
I don’t make resolutions at the beginning of the year, but I do find that the midway point is a good time to look back on the previous six months—and that’s pretty much what June means to me.
So here is my June Monthly Musing with a special thanks to Leonardo, my lion and partner in crime as part of the pride at the Shameless Lions Writing Circle:
June is…
A melody of reflections
Accompanied by
Bright beams of light
Sneaking in through tiny cracks
You couldn’t have seen when it was dark,
Torturous heat
Making me nostalgic for
The days of two or more pairs of socks,
Crackles and pops
Choking billows of grey smoke
From the pungent, annual wildfires,
Summer peaches
Bursting with sweet innocence
Of childhood, bicycles, swimming pools,
Spotted night skies
Glistening with such knowledge
That I truly can see forever.
Where have I been? Where will I go?
Where are the answers?
Dream on.
How does June make you feel? What comes to mind when you think of June? Do tell!
*P.S. After I posted this, I went over to Cheeky’s place and read her post entitled “Remembering: Way Back.” So much of it reminds me of June and summer and good times that I wholeheartedly recommend your going over there to check it out. And tell Cheeky I sent you!
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[tags]june, poetry, middle of the year[/tags]
i primi passi
“I primi passi” means “first steps” in Italian,
and here is one of our 11-day old bunnies taking his:
“Courage is an accumulation of small steps.”
–George Konrad
Meanwhile, his brothers and sisters snooze the day away.
“I’ll get up when I’m good and ready.”*
–sognatrice
Whatever it takes, my friends. Whatever it takes.
Buon weekend!
*The original version read “Wake me in time for dinner,” but I realized (through the help of commenters) that it sounded like I was referring to these cuties as dinner. Well, truth be told, someday they will be in all likelihood (sorry for those offended, but it’s the way of life around here)–but that’s certainly not what I was thinking about when I posted the photos!
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[tags]rabbits, bunnies, conigli, coniglietti[/tags]
i wandered lonely as a cloud
When my mom visited a few years ago, she called me out on the balcony to ask about the group of black and white birds that begin circling, screeching, and swooping around 7:30 p.m. every evening without fail.
I still don’t know what kind of birds they are (neither does P despite knowing about a lot of wildlife), but every time I hear their cries start up I think of my mom and many warm memories of when we bummed around southern Italy with nary a word of Italian between us. We’ve always been close, but during that trip I learned that nothing can bring two people closer than trying to decipher Italian road signs and strange hours of business.
The other night I glanced outside when the screeching reached its highest levels, and I found an amazing sky through my balcony doors.
At first glance, I thought this looked like a bird with wings above its head, flying to the right; then it seemed like it was flying to the left. Now I think it looks like two birds joined in the middle. What do you think?
The sky’s gorgeous coloring only lasted a few minutes, but luckily I snapped a few more photos.
In the last photo, you can see one of the birds quite clearly, but in the middle two, they appear only as grey streaks–they move that quickly. It’s really quite a spectacle, and I’m lucky that I get to see it every evening.
Just goes to show you that sometimes in order to catch a great moment all you need to do is stop, listen, and look up.
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[tags]clouds[/tags]
seashells *and* ponies!
Good news and bad news.
Bad news first, OK?
I won’t be around for a few days because of various work commitments, so you probably won’t hear from me again until Friday or so (most likely no What’s Cooking Wednesday, sniff sniff).
Just didn’t want anyone to worry about me or my Internet connection, so there you have it.
Now the good news:
As I type this, the cuffs of my capri-length jeans are still damp from the waters of the Ionian Sea (although I have changed out of them) and bits of sand are sprinkled throughout my house.
Let’s start in the early morning.
This morning I was walking Luna when I stopped to take this photo of a pretty tree in the piazza:
Check out the (untouched) color of the sky. I just knew it would be a good day.
Also, you can’t see them very well, but there are some fallen petals on the sidewalk; obviously I got there before the rubbish collector did, otherwise they’d have been swept up.
While I was snapping, P’s sister-in-law came over to me. We chatted for a few minutes–P is currently painting her house–and when I mentioned I had to go down to the Marina (part of the village on the coast, 5 km away), she offered me a ride as she was headed there.
This was an hour before I was planning to leave on the bus, so I took Luna home and packed up everything I’d need for my errands, which included the bank (ATM), bakery, grocery store, market, and beach if there was time (not an errand, but a thought).
But soon the whole plan changed.
As I was finishing up at the ATM machine, I got a call from one of my employers telling me that I could go pick up my paycheck (my first from them–only two months late!) at a bank in another town. So I hurried up with my errands in the Marina and caught the bus to the other town.
When I arrived at the bank, I couldn’t believe it–only five people in line! Oh. Just one teller.
And there’s the rub.
So I waited an hour and a half for a transaction that took literally two minutes. By then, I had missed the next bus back to my village, although I was blessed with the amusing sight of a woman being refused entry into the bank.
[For those who don’t know, in order to enter a bank here, you have to press a button for a little Star Trek-like glass pod to open. You step in and the Controller of the Pod (we’ll call this person “COP”) says yea or nay via a button that opens the other side of the pod leading into the bank.]
This poor woman, probably in her 30s, long black hair pulled back in a pony, stepped in and out of the pod at least five times with no luck. I think she finally went and put her purse in her car because she eventually convinced the COP (with no havoc ensuing, thank goodness).
Anyway, by the time I finally got another bus to the Marina (I’d then need a separate bus, passing through the Marina an hour later, to get up to my village), it was noon and I was starving. So I did what any self-respecting non-Italian would do at mezzogiorno–I got a panino and a peach iced tea and headed for the beach.
Of course at that hour, the seaside was all mine as all the real Italians were home for lunch most likely featuring pasta and not simply prosciutto and provola like I was about to have.
But before I got to the sand and surf, I was greeted by ponies (and a horse and a donkey)!
Circus is in town, you see. Not as funny (and useful!) as these ponies, but that first one really has something to brag about if you ask me.
Soon I got comfy with my lunch.
As this was yet another unplanned beach excursion, I didn’t have any of the usual supplies. I had to make do with a scarf, which I always have in my bag, and rolled up capri pants. In the past couple months, I’ve come to realize that I actually don’t dislike going to the beach as I always thought I had–what I hate is the preparation, the making sure I have absolutely everything I might need.
A trip to the sea is quite enjoyable, I’ve found, when you simply show up.
When my belly was full, I walked along the beach snapping some more photos.
Did I mention that our water is clean, clean, clean?
And then it was time to go.
But not before I grabbed some free souvenirs so that I can always remember those gorgeous few hours.
Ah, and then it got even better!
When I arrived home, a copy of Eat, Pray, Love was waiting for me–my prize for winning Shelley’s (At Home in Rome) La Mia Italia post contest with Conquering Evil (One Plastic Red Horn at a Time)!
Hope everyone’s week is as lovely as my Monday has been!
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[tags]sea, ionian sea, calabria, badolato, ponies, horses, donkeys, circus, seashells, shells, beach, sand, southern italy, italy[/tags]
just another kitten saved
Yesterday afternoon as I was checking my favorite blogs working hard, I heard a kitten crying, over and over. So I did what any reasonable person would do.
I opened the door and responded, “Meoooooow.”
And the kitten answered.
And I meowed.
And the kitten answered.
We played this game for about thirty seconds as I intermittently asked “dove sei?” (where are you?) but always received the same response. Clearly this little one was stuck somewhere.
So I followed the noise, and I tracked down the kitty to an attic-like space above my neighbor‘s house, only accessible from the outside by a rather unique staircase.
Anna Maria had been up there earlier, so the little one must’ve gotten closed in sometime in the morning. I told Anna Maria what I thought had happened, and she gave me the OK to rescue the kitty.
I started to ask her for a key, but then I realized I was in Calabria, and the likelihood of the door being closed with more than a clever contraption was low. Sure enough, a knotted rope greeted me, and as I started to untie it, I was assured that the kitty was inside because through the crack in the door, its little blue eyes glared at me before it hissed, swatted, and ran into the corner.
Once I opened the door, I saw a space full of firewood, old chairs, stacked terra cotta roof tiles, various sacks, and assorted empty crates, jars, and bottles.
But no kitty.
I searched all over, meowed, and even poked around with a stick to ruffle some things about, but there was no sign of life.
I wanted to leave the door open for a bit to allow the kitten to let itself out, but it was extremely windy and Anna Maria would never go for it. So after a few minutes, I retied the rope behind me and formulated my plan to wait until Anna Maria went to church and then try again.
I was going to have to resume Operation Rescue Kitty da sola (alone).
And so when I heard the bells calling the faithful to Mass, I peeked my head out the door and meowed.
And the little one answered.
I climbed back up the stairs and performed the same routine as before, just in case it was now ready to come out.
Nothing.
So I tied the door partially shut, leaving room enough for escape, descended the stairs, and then started meowing loudly. At this point, I was pretty sure that its mother was around–there is one particular chubby stray that always used to hang around, but I hadn’t seen her in a while. I now assumed she had been on maternity leave.
And I was right.
Within seconds, (skinny) Mamma came rushing around the corner. She looked at me as if to ask, “Where’s my baby?” and so I pointed up the steps. She trotted up there to the crack in the door; immediately the kitten emerged, and they were reunited.
Baby rubbed all around Mamma as Mamma tried to clean the grime off Baby. And boy was the little one hungry.
Eventually Mamma decided on a more comfortable place for feeding where she could finally relax. You could see that she had just been worried sick about her little one from the way she collapsed once they were together again.
And another kitty family slept off into the sunset.
Just so you know, I was never even remotely tempted to spruce up these photos a la the LOLcat movement. I find it a little creepy to be honest with you.
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[tags]cats, kittens, rescuing kittens[/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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