I’ve spent the last day or two handing out cards with my phone number on them and trying to find some work for the summer.  As much as I love just enjoying Italy, I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t a vacation.  Actually my type A personality, which I’ve tried to tamp down, keeps rearing it’s ugly head and telling me to get busy.  It’s probably not healthy to be having arguments with myself, but at least I’m hearing some English!

My landlady suggested waitress work at a hotel in a nearby town, but it would require being gone from sunup to sundown, and I have Cinder to think about.  Plus, the whole point is to find some work in “my” town so I can meet people.  Laura told me of an office in town where they post all the available jobs being offered so that’s next on my agenda.  Well, after another trip to the petstore and to the Pescheria (fish truck), which is only here twice a week.

Aside from writing, I did some manual labor yesterday.  Laura was opening the pool at the agriturismo and needed help cleaning it and the sixteen, yellowed lounge chairs.  It was an all day project involving a lot of elbow grease and bleach.  I had no idea when I’d plopped my butt on those chairs last fall that so much work went into getting them ready.  In fact, I really didn’t fathom half of the work that Laura, her mom and even grandmother do every day.  Laura’s grandmother is a tiny thing, but she pushes around a wheelbarrow like nobody’s business.  She tends the garden and the chickens.  She gave me some fresh eggs for my efforts yesterday.  They don’t refrigerate eggs here, which I’m slightly suspicious of, but I made some for dinner last night and they were delicious.  Laura’s mom, Marisa, also sent me home with some fava beans.  I told her I’d never had them before and she told me to eat them “cruda” or raw.  I threw them in a salad and they were pretty tasty.  Of course when she handed me the fava beans, I immediately wanted to make the “I’ll enjoy them with a nice chianti” reference from Silence of the Lambs, but then I remembered a) my Italian isn’t strong enough to pull it off and b) they probably didn’t see the movie anyway!  These are the moments when I miss my friends the most!!!

After a trip to the market yesterday with my neighbor Mariela, in which she introduced me around and basically told me which fruit and flowers I should buy, I got our flowers situated on the porch.  And last night Cinder and I witnessed a gorgeous sunset from our apartment.  I was tired after my day of work at the agriturismo, but even still I hope they’ll ask me back to do more.  It’s definitely one of my favorite places to spend time.

Cinder and I have ventured a little farther from home over the past couple of days.  We always start our day with a stop at the caffe, because now Cinder is treated like a local celebrity when she comes in.  Massimo’s wife gives her a piece of prosciutto and she gets lots of attention.  In other words, if I don’t take her to the bar, she drags me there.  We explored the local bookshop, which has one rack of books in English.  I bought a couple of books and chatted with the owner who promised to keep the English titles stocked.  Cinder browsed the racks, trying to find the meat offerings.

In my quest to make my porch look as pretty as my neighbors, I went in search of flower stands (fioriella) to perch over the railing and hold flower pots.  After a few wrong turns, we found a store that I know we’ll go back to many times.  One side of the store has dog food and supplies and the other half of the store is a nursery with all kinds of planting stuff.  I bought the holders and some I/D for Cinder.  The Purina I was forced to buy at the local supermarket was threatening to renew the stomach troubles she’d had before we got here, so I was quite thrilled to find a low residue dog food for her–especially since I haven’t had the heart to say no to her morning prosciutto routine.  The store owner had recently moved from Roma and she and her husband were quite welcoming, dragging their shepherd out from the back to meet Cinder.  An elderly gentleman, he and Cinder may have commiserated about the hilly terrain and their old bones as they gave each other a sniff and the once over. (All the dogs we’ve met so far have been un-neutered males, so Cinder has made an impression on them as well.)

Loaded down with purchases, I decided to wait until the market on Thursday to actually buy the flowers.  We tramped back up the hill into town,  had our lunch, and then sat in the sun.  I use the afternoon as my writing time and Cinder has her daily stare down with Theo, the orange kitty from next door.  My neighbor, Mariela is very friendly and comes out of her yard each day when she sees us.  She’s been slowly pumping me for information and today finally cut to the chase.  “38,” I tell her in response to the question I’ve been getting quite often:  “How old are you?”  I’m not sure if it’s illegal to be single here, but there does seem to be some urgency in everyone trying to pair up.  Mariela had already informed me that her one son was a veterinarian, and today she brought out the big guns and told me her other son was a lawyer.  Of course, I’d just gotten done telling her that I had quit being a lawyer because there were too many assholes (stronzi) in the profession, so I’m not sure if she’s still thinking of me as daughter-in-law material!  I feel the need to make sure I look okay when I’m sitting outside, just in case my “intended” comes calling.  I’m having fun and Cinder seems to be enjoying her social time with Theo and with Otsi, Mariela’s big black and white dog.  They sniffed each other yesterday and now when she walks by his gate, he kind of gives her a lovesick look.  It’s pretty damn cute.

I’m off to wrestle my duvet off the clothesline as Mariela informs me after a quick look at the clouds that rain is coming.  They look pretty and fluffy to me but what do I know.  At least taking the sheets off the line doesn’t require quite the effort that wrangling a heavy, sopping wet one onto the wire does.  It was amusing earlier when I was sitting on my bench writing and an American couple came by and were taking pictures of the laundry hanging at all the windows.  “I wouldn’t take a photo of mine,” I told them, startling them with my English.  “I just got here and I don’t think I’m doing it right!”

I made a new friend today.  Candy is her name and she’s my washing machine.  To be honest, she’s a friend in the same way that Freddo was to Michael in the Godfather.  Oh the betrayal!

I was quite thrilled when I discovered a washing machine in this apartment.  What could be better?  I hadn’t had one in New York and so it seemed the height of luxury.  I’d wondered briefly why my landlady Giuliana had covered the washing machine with a dainty doily.   It turned out to be a discreet warning.  Look under here if you dare.  Well, after a week of wearing the same jeans, and Cinder wanting to be under my duvet since it’s been cold here, I decided we needed to tackle laundry.  I opened the lid of the washing machine (lavatrice), then closed it again.  After my second double take, I studied the apparatus more closely.  Candy had a locked metal drum inside her.  This was unlike any washing machine I’d ever seen.  I looked at the bottle of detergent I’d purchased and debated just hand washing things.  But did I really want to be hand washing clothes for the rest of my life?  I’d moved to Italy, not the frontier.

Screwing up my courage, I studied the knobs and levers that ostensibly would make Candy work.  A brief consult with Laura confirmed that 40 degrees would be hot enough for most things and for me to choose whatever setting I wanted.  Uh huh!  No problem.

With Cinder looking on with some concern as I gamely stripped the bed and sorted our clothes into whites and darks, it was finally time to make Candy’s acquaintance.  After two or three attempts at opening the metal drum, I succeeded and proceeded to stuff in my sheets and whites.  Where to put the detergent was another matter of concern as there were four different slots that were potential candidates.  I chose the one that had crusted detergent in it,  leftover no doubt from the last occupant to use this machine back in the 50s, and closed up Candy and hit the button.

Candy began to growl in a disturbing way.  This wasn’t good.  Cinder ventured off the couch to find out what had invaded our house.  After a minute or so of listening for water to whoosh into the machine, I realized Candy was growling because Giuliana hadn’t turned the water on.  I did this and was rewarded with a sound I at least recognized.  “We’re in business,” I told Cinder.

Then I waited.  And waited.  It took Candy over an hour to complete her cycle.  And the results weren’t pretty.  It might have been because the water hadn’t had a chance to run that things looked slightly rusty, or because I put the detergent in the wrong space, but our first load was not exactly what I’d call clean.  I took out the few towels that I knew had been clean already as they’d just been used in my boxes for protecting valuables and set them aside.  Pretty much everything else would have to be done again.

I ran out to do some errands before attempting what was obviously going to be a lengthy project!

On the second run, I put the detergent right in with the clothes and gave Candy some words of encouragement.  I put about half the amount of clothes inside and then waited.

Success.  Kind of.  Candy has obviously met her match when it comes to removing short Cinder Winifred hairs from my belongings, but everything smelled good, so I deemed it optimo!

But we weren’t done yet, as now it was time for me to try out the clothesline hanging outside my window.  I’d been studying the way my neighbors had been doing this for days.  Jeans were hung upside down, check.  Towels and sheets had about a 1/4 of their length over the wire.  Can do!  I put out my first items and then kept returning to the window to make sure they were still hanging there.  They were.  I’d wondered why my neighbors seemed to be hanging laundry every day, but soon realized it’s because you can only fit a few things on the line. I’d have to be satisfied with one load a day. I looked to the sky which was sunny and almost cloudless.  With any luck my things would be gently dried by the Tuscan wind and be ready by nightfall.  That’s the plan anyway.  We’ll see how it goes.

I spared a thought for the ironing board and iron that Giuliana had proudly pointed out to me, then dismissed it.  Doing laundry is one thing, but let’s not get carried away!

Cinder and I have developed an energetic mid morning routine:  a long walk (passeggiata) in the countryside.  Part of the reason for the mid morning jaunt is that Cinder still insists on rising early, so she’s ready for another outing by 10:30 or so.  Thankfully she seems to have forgotten that she liked to rise at 5:00, or maybe is adjusting herself to the Italian lifestyle, but she’s been sleeping to at least 6:30 which for me is bliss.  It is a little disconcerting to see the sun up as we walk since I was so used to our predawn outings in New York.  But I’m adjusting admirably!

The only wildlife we’ve encountered on our strolls have been some rather ferocious-sounding dogs protecting their property.  We had a close call yesterday when one realized his gate was open and ran into the street.  We had a face off for about thirty seconds and then he ran back inside.  Either Cinder’s New York toughness scared him off, or I’ve built up enough good dog karma in my six years of dog walking!  I hastened to close his fence just in case he decided to regroup, but he seemed satisfied to bark at us from a distance.  For Cinder’s part she doesn’t respond to the barking and I wonder if she doesn’t understand the Italian.  The tone seems clear enough to me, but she only gives them a vaguely confused look and continues on her walk.  I think she may be so excited to be experiencing all of this nature that she doesn’t have time to pity the poor dogs closed off behind their fences.

I’ve been slightly concerned for Cinder with her arthritis that she would struggle on the hills.  But if anyone is struggling it’s me.  There’s no such thing as “flat” in Montepulciano.  I’m building my endurance slowly, figuring if my eleven year old arthritic dog can do it, well then I should be able to as well.  The problem initially was I was trying to walk at my New York pace.  Well, after day two I realized that’s just not going to work.  The key I’ve found is slow and steady.  “Be the tortoise.”  We pass lots of older Italians who calmly plod up the hills at their own pace, unhurried and with all of their breath in tact.  Once you learn this lesson, the hills are actually not bad.

Because today is the first of May, there is a huge fair in Montepulciano.  There are so many people that you can’t even get down the streets, and Laura called me to warn me to keep a hand on my purse since thieves like to frequent the festivities as well as tourists.  I decided not to subject Cinder to this chaos and ventured out alone and browsed.  I only brought a little cash with me, which was a good thing.  Everything was so cheap and tempting that it was all I could do not to rush back and grab more money to shop.  I bought some roasted chicken and porchetta for Cinder which she’d been longing for yesterday and some tomatoes and pecorino for me.  I also bought my rug.

Trying to leave the chaos of the fair behind us, we ventured out for our walk.  The small country road which normally has little to no traffic today was lined with cars on both sides.  Parents pushing strollers, and couples off to enjoy the festivities, ambled back and forth.  Cinder and I pulled over frequently so as to not get squashed by traffic.

With our first real taste of sunshine, we meandered down the mountain.  I could have walked for hours.  The only thing keeping me in check was the knowledge that we still had to head back up.  I knew I could make it, but I wasn’t sure how much I could push Cinder.  She made this point for me by falling into a drainage ditch, disappearing except for her head.  Her weakened back legs couldn’t get out, but I managed to pull her out by wrapping the leash around my waist and heaving her.  Thankfully she was okay, because I have no idea how I would have gotten her home otherwise.  She seemed undaunted  by her experience, still gamely trying to poke her head in every crevice along our route.  No doubt she’ll be sore tomorrow.

We ended our walk with a standoff with the orange kitty that lives next door.  He’s one of five cats who wander around.  There is also a big black and white dog who lives with the cats and he’s has taken a shine to Cinder.  She’s definitely playing hard to get and hasn’t given him so much as a second look!  Unlike me, Cinder has yet to appreciate the beauty of Italian men.

We have the whole day ahead and with the gorgeous sun shining, I think we’ll spend it outside.  I know one girl who will enjoy her roasted chicken after her exertions of the morning!

On my previous trips to Montepulciano, I’ve enjoyed the market.  Normally, market day is every Thursday, but this week there is some sort of fair over the weekend, so the market is much bigger than usual.  Streets are closed off to traffic and vendors stretch as far as the eye can see.  Everything from clothes and household goods to plants, and food.  Imagine the most impressive farmer’s market and then double the size!

My experience at today’s market was  very different from my previous trips.  First of all, I was able to communicate much more effectively with the vendors.  And second, I had Cinder with me.  If you want to make a splash in a small Italian town, I highly recommend walking around with an eighty pound Weimaraner.  You’d think I had a dancing bear on the end of the leash instead of large dog in her dotage so excited were some of the passersby.   We were definitely a hit, although the meat vendors looked a little wary as if she might attack at any second for a piece of prosciutto.  It was definitely as struggle holding her in check once her nose picked up the scent of the trucks offering roasted chicken and pork, but thankfully they sit so high off the ground her nose barely reached the display.

My plan for the morning was to find a rug for the apartment, but once I got there I got distracted by all the fabulous produce.  As I write the “profuma” from the strawberries I bought is filling the apartment.  I was limited in what I could actually buy since my knowledge of kgs isn’t stellar yet, but I am quite adept at holding up one or two fingers to indicate how many things I would like!  I’d brought my backpack, so I stuffed in my purchases, moved away from the food and got down to the business of rug shopping.  Our landlady, Giuliana, took away the two pretty rugs that had been in the apartment, I guess fearing that Cinder would dirty them.

After a few spins around the market since vendors were still setting up, I found a smallish rug which I though might be perfect for our space.  The weather has been so damp and grey this week that I’ve gotten a sample of how cold the floors are going to be in winter.

When I expressed interest in one of the rugs, the vendor turned it over so I could see the price.  I told him it was bello, but troppo caro (too expensive) for me.  In less than five minutes, he’d brought out a ton of other rugs and reduced the price twice on the one I liked.  I thanked him and told him I’d look around and come back later.  I think by tomorrow we might have a new rug!

Cinder and I headed home with our fruit, stopping in at our favorite cafe for an espresso and brioche.  The couple who own it are very sweet and allow Cinder to come in.  This of course thrills her!  I think I might venture back to the market after I bring Cinder home.  I need to see what things I need for the apartment and then try to find some bargains.  Mi piace molto market day!

I’m writing from my new apartment in Montepulciano.  The fact that I am here is amazing in itself and I keep wanting to pinch myself! (I resist the urge because I bruise easily.)  When they loaded Cinder onto the plane three days ago, I was so wracked with guilt and fear that it was hard to visualize the possibilities ahead.  But when she bounded out of her crate in Rome after her ten hour ordeal looking no worse for wear, I knew we would be okay.

A lovely man named Roberto drove us the two hours north to our new home.  It was grey and rainy, but it didn’t matter.  As Roberto explained, it was a good omen for our future.  Sounded reasonable to me.  We met our new landlady at the apartment and after some negotiation over the price of the deposit, we finally settled on the amount we’d previously agreed to.  I felt it was my first Italian triumph that I didn’t give in.  I spent the day unpacking suitcases, while Cinder watched me with one eye open.  She was torn between the need to sleep and the desire to keep track of me after the trying ordeal of the last weeks.  Seeing our New York apartment being torn to bits and all of its contents leaving couldn’t have been easy for her.  I ventured out twice to try and find provisions since there was nothing in the kitchen, but everything was closed because it was Sunday.

We awoke to sunshine on our first full day.  I was starving since I hadn’t eaten since the plane and trekked out to the grocery story.  I stopped at a cafe on the way home and had coffee and a brioche.  I felt slightly more human as I made my list of things that needed to be accomplished.  I was feeling slightly disconnected without the internet, but took a deep breath and allowed myself to adjust to the slower pace of the paese!

I deposited my few precious dollars at the local bank, and stopped in at some stores where the owners knew me from previous trips.  Everyone was extremely welcoming.  Of course some were also bewildered as to why I would leave New York for the quiet of Montepulciano.  I couldn’t put it into words well with my limited Italian except to say that I wanted room respirare  (to breathe).

I signed the lease on the apartment yesterday, and this morning I got my residency application in progress with the local Comune.  I noticed while I was waiting outside that the new Twilight sequel is being filmed here and they are currently casting.   Loads of teenage regazzi were preening and preparing for their close-ups.

I took Cinder with me today for a trip to see Marco.  He runs the local cell phone store and he remembered me from my purchase in February.  He like most of the other Italians were a little disconcerted at the sight of my huge dog walking down the street.  Most big dogs here are hunting dogs, or home in their yards; they don’t get walked.  The more curious have stopped me and commented on Cinder’s lovely color etc.  Others are probably just thinking I’m a nutty American.  In any event, Marco got me hooked up with the internet which you do with a USB key and it took two minutes.

I’m not sure what I’m doing with the rest of the day, but I know it will include a visit with Laura and her mom.  And perhaps I’ll even get started on those boxes…