I passed a young man out walking with his family, all masked. He suddenly gave a great heave of breath, took off the mask, rubbed his face vigorously with his hands, then put it back. Kind of counterproductive, but I could relate. So could everyone else who saw him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I employed a fresh, crisp mask last Saturday, then took a walk. Thoughts of Palombella<\/em> stirred my brain, and as I approached the end of our lane to turn left onto (what becomes) Via delle Donne, I heard drums! Rat-a-tat, a-rat-a-tatta-tat. My heart beat faster. Where would they be rehearsing? And for what? I stopped to see if I could distinguish a direction for the source. The drums stopped, too. I took a deep breath, and as I let it out the drums started up again. I walked. I breathed. The drummers somehow synchronized their music to my expiration. Remarkable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Once the mask softened from use, the drumming ceased altogether.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Enough about masks, except that breathing my own stale air makes me unseasonably warm. But what we must, we must. For these times, that’s<\/em> philosophy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I just took an afternoon walk to the cliff near San Giovenale, up the hill towards Le Grotte del Funaro, and back through town. On Via Garibaldi, I passed Blue Bar. Antonny and Romina were on the street with all the tables and chairs, washing and disinfecting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDoing a good spring cleaning, heh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGetting ready to re-open on Monday. Come, I show you!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We went into the main room to examine new positions for the cold case and beverage cabinet, and a shorter, leaner bar. Antonny demonstrated where the reconfiguration opens up room for a few new seats and a table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd we keep the side room only for six months, then pfffitt<\/em>! Or maybe not. We see. I’m excited. We throw away many things…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI saw your trash pile the other day. Very impressive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFelt good. We collect too much things. This is a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I moved on to the real reason for my walk, a small cup of gelato. At one of the tables flanking the entrance sat a woman with colorfully framed glasses, someone I’d met on the stairs while trying out Allen’s apartment a couple of weeks back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI thought maybe you lived in the building,\u201d she said in perfect English. I explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut you do live in that palazzo?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI moved from Porano where I was for a couple of years. I like being in Orvieto, very much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you Italian?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFrench.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAh! Like Antonny.\u201d \u201cBlue Bar. Across the street from you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh. You see, I moved here in the middle of February.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJust in time for lockdown.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She laughed and shrugged. \u201cOh, well.\u201d Her name is Lola.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I took my gelato to my favorite eating-gelato bench on Vicolo Michelangeli, and Simonetta (Michelangeli) passed just as I settled in. She was dressed like a flame, in rich shades of orange and red. I complimented her attire and inquired after the laboratorio<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDifficult times. We’re open, but there are no jobs. We can’t make it selling to Orvietani, we need orders from outside, and with the travel restrictions that’s been complicated. No one at this level redecorates from a catalog, they want to see and touch things. They want design consultations.\u201d \u201cBut,\u201d she continued, \u201cthis is home, has been our home for generations, we can’t just pick up and leave for a big city somewhere. We’ve roots here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd I, for one, cannot imagine Orvieto without Bottega Michelangeli.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNeither can we imagine the Bottega without Orvieto. So, we’ll figure a way through. Enjoy your gelato.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The first appointment of the day was with Alessandro who is helping me with a periodic application for my permesso di soggiorno<\/em> (permit of stay).<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLot of news! Gordon College (where he works) won’t start again until the spring, maybe even later. We had to send all the students home, reimburse their fees, and had paid the staff and faculty already. Hard times. But the biggest news is that my wife is pregnant, so in July our family grows from four children to six! Twins!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cComplimenti! But what difficult timing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah, tough timing having to feed everyone and buy clothes and so forth, but in another way… I get to stay home and be pap\u00e0. <\/em>In that way, what could be better?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tempi difficili per tutti<\/em>. But difficult for everyone, and that kinda takes the pressure off, don’t it? Which also lets us discover the hidden opportunities. I passed a young man out walking with his family, all masked. He suddenly gave a great heave of breath, took off the mask, rubbed his face vigorously with his hands, then put it back. Kind of counterproductive, but I could relate. So could everyone else who saw him. I employed a fresh, crisp mask … Continue reading La Pausa – June 5<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1886,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[7],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1885"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1885"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1885\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1987,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1885\/revisions\/1987"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1886"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1885"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1885"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1885"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDifficult times for everyone.\u201d I hear that phrase a dozen times a day, even in response to a simple greeting. \u201cHow’s it going?\u201d is answered with \u201cHard times for all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"