Piccolo Sogno

Alan traveled over the weekend for a business meeting. Franca, the wife of Alan’s cousin, Ruggero, picked me up on Saturday, and whisked me off to another beautiful mountain town. Possagno is the hometown of the famous artist, Canova, a neoclassical sculptor. The museum was built next to the ancestral home of Canova, which contains paintings and drawings done by the artist. The interior of the museum is a masterful tribute to the works of Canova unfortunately cameras were not allowed. I could go on and on about his sculptures but my favorites were Cupid and Psyche, and The Three Graces… bellissima . That was until we stumbled upon a plaster model of George Washington dressed as a Roman general. A staffer explained that the piece was commissioned by North Carolina in 1816. I was thrilled to see not only a masterful piece of Canova’s work, but a link to America and a president without access to twitter. Canova also built a massive temple and the lovely Franca is cente...

Learning to Crawl We have been here only two weeks and it seems we have accomplished quite a bit on our to-do lists. It was necessary to register Loree with the local police, as she is a foreigner, but can stay here indefinitely as long as I am here. As a married couple she has all the rights to Italian services. Surprisingly this was accomplished in 20 minutes provided that I correctly filled out the forms. I have reviewed now so many pages of forms and contracts in Italian, that I may consider entering law school. Readers of our last blog will note that our apartment while spanking new did not have working fridge, hot water, or workable sink faucet. I am happy to report that of all this has been corrected…. sort-of.   I have learned hell hath no fury like a wife without a hot shower! Having patiently waited for our landlord to correct the water issues I decided it was time to take some manly action. “Buongiorno Sr. Godi, mia moglie è arrabbiata con m...

When you live in any new place you are thrown into a world of new order and some disorder.   Your daily routine is discarded and a new way of life begins. We had a fairly uneventful flight to Italy and made it safely to Bassano Del Grappa on time and without any issues. Our cousins were there to greet us at the train station and we headed off to lunch… naturalment e.   We needed to stay at an Airbnb for a few days as the apartment was not yet finished and this worked nicely as a transitioning point. Loree and I made a new friend in Michela, our host. This was our first experience with an Airbnb and it was a good one.   Michela, proficient in 4 languages; a poet, philosopher and life coach is now a lifelong friend. So far so good! The next day, I learned that my bicycle, the one I had ridden in some 20 triathlons and nearly 18,000 miles over 13 years was being held hostage by customs. Note to self, never ship anything to Italy, carry it with you...

I’m downstairs in my office, coffee in hand and filled with anxiety, excitement, hope and a bit of sadness. We are leaving for Bassano Del Grappa in just a few days and I’m fretting that there will be at least one key item that we neglected before we depart.   We have changed our cell service from Verizon to T-Mobile, which is great in Italy and throughout Europe. We paid our real estate taxes and other bills and set up PayPal accounts for Loree’s business and mine. We had purchased our round trip airfares months ago with Loree coming back to visit Chicago in September and me in December. We made a plan only to ship my road bike and leave everything else behind due to costs and import duties. We are taking only four suitcases filled with clothes and shoes and all else stays behind. How did we get to this point? Many years ago I had read in the Tribune that Italy was offering a “right to return” for its diaspora. Turano Bakery, a local Chicago supplier of bread ...