12 Feb, Day 33 Bread and Grappa

(50 pages, 28878 words!) –Tonight I’m trying to type with the timing of the piano serenades that I’m listening to, so expect a few unnoticed typos.

I woke around noon on Saturday and had to defer my plans to visit Genova and Portofino for a day that I could get an earlier start. Instead I would spend the some time taking care of a couple things around the house before going for a jog in the park.

Monza has a park large enough that I have yet to reach the far side on any one of my jogging or walking trips. Maybe one day I’ll rent a bike to reach the outskirts. I was surprised to see several police cars positioning themselves in the center of the town square as I passed through on the way to the park. The officers were already congregating around as though there was going to be some sort of demonstration. These guys were garbed in their riot gear with helmets and plastic shields. I found it reminiscent of political demonstrations I’ve seen in third world sectors of South America. (Just another perk of living out here on the frontier…) I jogged past the drug-dealing Moroccans near the entrance of the park, and entered the garden to the south of the Villa Reale. It’s too bad the villa seems to be falling in to disrepair because they could make it into something like a smaller version of the palace of Versailles, France, if they poured some money into it. I guess they’ve better things to spend their cash on: like refurbishing the train station or making billboards to put on the duomo.

I passed a few other people out for a stroll before stopping at the bocce courts to watch the old-timers and stretch a cramping leg. There were about twice as many of these seniors as last week, wrangling over the orbs like idiot savants capable of seeing nuances indistinguishable to my studious eyes. Maybe one day they’ll teach me their waning Italian pastime.

I showered, and then puttered around the house feeling quite proud to have removed most of the dust from the floor and some of the stains from the sink and tub. But the phone interrupted the closure of my cleaning. A girl with a lyrical voice introduced herself as Giuliana, a friend of Emiliano, (an Italian I met at Stanford while he was working as a visiting scholar.) What a strike of luck! Emiliano offered me her number because she’d planned to go skiing this weekend, but I thought calling more than twice would’ve been excessive in spite of failing to get her on the line either try. So we made plans to leave the following morning. I was ecstatic to be going back to the Alps tomorrow-- particularly after Friday night’s letdown and a generally vanilla Saturday.

Following a session of post-run stretching, I prepared to stroll the town to try to loosen up the ailing leg, buy some muscle relaxant, and find a proper cafetiera (coffee pot), and maybe a corkscrew. I’m looking for rather particular pieces of each. I’ve developed the habit of making a shot of coffee each morning, but neither of the two pots that came with my apartment is really suitable. The smaller one makes 2-3 shots and is made of aluminum, the larger one is made of stainless steel, but makes 4-5 shots. I can’t stand the aluminum, and the steel pot is too big. I think I know what I’m seeking to round out my morning experience… It would be a 1-shot pot made of something akin to buffed 316Stainless. I’m thinking of a VBR that’s sleek, efficient, urbane, but with a flare of brio. The corkscrew is a different story as it doesn’t come out daily, but should be a waiter-style design -something utilitarian, without compromising quality, made with a certain perennial pride and craftsmanship. I was thinking of brushed titanium with a finished wooden inlay on the handle held down by 3 or 4 studs.

Well sorry to end on this discussion on my present desires for coffee pots and corkscrews, but I’ll try to get to the title of this entry and the other adventures of the weekend later this week.

Signing off…