Topping, of course

I went to sleep to the sound of the coo coo and woke up to the sound of grunting and snorting. Just outside the french doors I could hear shuffling. I waited a minute with my eyes closed to get my bearings (where am I?) then put my feet on the cold tiled floor and doddered over to the velvet curtains. Snort, snort, grunt, grunt. I crouched down to the corner of the glass door and peeked out, moving the curtain only slightly. I could see the bush by the door shaking. I tapped on the glass. A pig face poked through the bush, for a moment we stared at each other, both blinking. Then he took off down the lawn and into the woods below. Well, I was awake now! and it was getting light outside, so I put on my borrowed robe and opened the doors quietly. I stepped outside on the dewy grass. Long beautiful grass not the clipped grass of Los Angeles. The vista I didn't see the night before was just visible in the rising mist. Sweeping away from the house was a long lawn that led to the woods and to the side were rows of planted trees. At the far end was a covered pool. Near me was an old stone table with chairs. I sat on one of the chairs and took in the whole scene, the complete beauty, the quiet peace, the silence. I sat there for a long time with tears in my eyes at the serenity. Then I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Luisa and Biagio were talking low to each other. Then a slight sound of music. Then the clatter of pans. I went back into my room and got ready to meet the day. As most women know, the mood of a visit is usually set by the woman of the house. Luisa is one of the best hostesses I have ever come across. Self assured in herself and in her marriage, she can be open and genuine with a stranger, like I was. While I had been sitting outside, she had left toiletries and a note at my door.

I bathed in what looked like a blue grotto then dressed and went over to the kitchen. Luisa and Biagio were laughing softly and putting ingredients on the counter. Buon Giorno's all around, Luisa hugged me and said they were going to take me to Volterra to see the Etruscian Museum, then to a slow dinner that night. Biagio smiled and said "we are cooking you an American breakfast". I said, "oh no you Italians just eat bread and drink coffe efor breakfast". They said "but not when we have an American guest". "We cook a fritatta!". Luisa winked and said "go wake up Giancarlo". I went up the stairs and, not knowing which room he was in, went looked in a few doors until I saw him in his four poster bed, just his head and bare shoulders visible, a giant cruxifix above him. He smiled and stretched out his hand. I went over to him. He took my hand and I sat on the bed. We were a little late for breakfast.

Lucy's story makes me want to be a middle aged divorcee and go out and have an Italian love affair of my own. Go on Lucy we love your story. I can't get any work done at work cause i'm looking for your newest posts. Hurrry and give us some more!Please

Gotta bring this one up so Lucy won't forget to keep going!!

Time for more!

Lucy, where are you????

Here I am at the office. More:<BR><BR>I went downstairs for some coffee, I needed it. Luisa had slowly made a fresh mushroom fritatta and some broiled tomatoes sprinkled with bread crumbs and drizzled with olive oil. The french doors in the dining room were open onto the side yard where Biagio was lifting weights wearing an old-Italian-movie-undershirt. G. came downstairs and we all had a delicious breakfast. Then we set off for Volterra. On the way we stopped at Venzano Gardens off the main road on a dirt road. It is the site of an Augustinian monastery and the current owner has restored the villa and opened the grounds to the public where you can look at the native plants and purchase some too. We strolled around under trellises and into the different “rooms” made of various hedges and plants. Kind of wild, not a tamed garden at all. Luisa bought some climbing roses and we were off.<BR>Volterra is a different sort of city. It is high on a hill and is made mostly of stone, cold looking stone. In fact a cold looking city. When we entered the gates and went into the main square, I was struck with the boldness and bleakness even on a sunny day. Beautiful in its own way, I liked Volterra. We went to the Etruscan museum and I was amazed at the alabaster caskets for the ashes of these ancient people. The urns had life like sculptures of their owners. Then in the lobby of the museum Giancarlo bought me some golden earrings Estrucan style. I have not taken them off. We walked around Volterra and looked in the alabaster shops, then drove outside the walls to have lunch at the Blue Horse (Eng. translation). It was soo good, I had a tuna pizza, that I think of longingly to this day. The others had white bean Tuscan soup and steak and beer, I had vino. Very friendly staff and owners. I recommend it highly. Then we went back to the house to rest and listen to music and I enjoyed my first real siesta Italian style.<BR>

Hi Lucy,<BR><BR>I am a middle-aged divorcee going to Italy in October so I guess I have a lot to look forward to.<BR><BR>I have one question and I am sincere in what I am asking. Did he always pick up the tab or did you some of the time? It's always such a dilema even in America. Thanks for you input

Karen, in the beginning, I insisted on paying for lunches, at least my own, and he paid for dinners. Then, later, he paid for both and I would buy the gelato, water and things like that. There was really no decision made, I would just plunk the money down first for the gelato, coffee, or dash into a store and get our waters. I know, it is a dilemma, but luckily it didn't become an issue.

Of the places you have been to on this wonderful trip, which did you enjoy the most and why. Do you think it was influenced to a large extent by Giancarlo, or do you think you could have enjoyed them as much on your own? I too am going solo to Italy soon and I hope that even if I don't meet a Giancarlo that I will still have a great time on my own.

Sandi, I think I would have enjoyed the cities on my own, but I am not sure of the countryside. The farm houses are a little too isolated and I am not fluent with the language. Also, you have to drive to get anywhere. I think I would advise a single woman to stick to the places where you she would feel comfortable walking about at night. You have to get about in the dark and those old hill towns can get a little spooky when they are almost deserted at night.<BR>I am sure they are safe enough though.<BR>The big cities wouldn't be a problem.<BR>To try to answer your question, I would have liked Rome, Capri and Positano alone but not a farm house. I loved each of them for their own uniqueness. I would return, and hope I do, to any and all.

This is as good as Herb and Clara! Keep it coming, Lucy! Maybe we can take a collection to send you on another trip soon!

Nora Roberts -- Watch out!!!!

I have to go out for awhile so I'm topping so I won't have to look for this when I get home!1<BR><BR>More Lucy More

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Reading this makes me want to shoot myself.

so what's stopping you? or get a life and let us alone to enjoy reading about lucy's!

William, that is so funny. You gave me a good chuckle.<BR><BR>Anyway, fellow readers, after such a great (!) siesta, we all decided to stay in for the rest of the evening. Luisa baked chicken in a crust with roasted vegetables and potatoes. All the vegetables and herbs were fresh from her garden. I “helped” in the kitchen, chopping and peeling. It was kind of “culinarily” thrilling to be helping in a real old Italian farm kitchen with an experienced cook watching over me. Like everything I saw Luisa do, she even cooked with style, like a ballet dancer with kitchen tongs. She twirled and dipped into the cabinets and everything was ready in no time at all. I would have been covered in flour collapsed at my kitchen table at home after preparing such a meal. But all she did was whisk off her apron, unloosed her hair and she was elegant once again. Ah, those European women (and men!). We had some prosecco at the outdoor table while the dinner baked, and watched the sunset over the hills. The fog came in quickly and filled up the valleys. After the delicious dinner, we settled in the upstairs great room, with cheese and vin santo on the wooden plank coffee table. As I said the fireplace was huge, you could walk in it standing up. Biagio lit the fire with, of course, their own logs. It was a little chilly upstairs as the thick walls had kept out the warm outside air. We cuddled on the two couches by the fire and talked about America and Italy. They had so many questions about places (thank goodness not politics) they had heard and read about in the USA. They were fascinated with American Indians and cowboys and Arizona and the Grand Canyon. I have been to Arizona many times and on Indian reservations to buy jewelry and see ceremonies, so, luckily, I did have stories. When I told them I was about 1% Cherokee, they were thrilled. We talked well into the night, no TV’s out there. Then Luisa put out the fire and we all went to bed, but the old farmhouse stayed warm all night……<BR>

Oh girl, be still my heart!