by Maureen | May 31, 2010 | Introspection, Journal, Quips
The corn stalks are more than knee-high. The rapeseed has been harvested and the poppies cut along with it. Workers are driving tractors along the canal, using flail-choppers to cut the meter-high grass and weeds.
There’s a firm breeze on this 80 degree day and the sky is bright blue. The air is clear enough to reveal the Alps forming their broad arc of one third of the horizon. That always impresses me: looking up from my bike and seeing the Alps in the distance. What a sight, and the stuff of dreams.
by Maureen | May 23, 2010 | Canals, Featured Articles, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos
What to do when the temperature is in the 80s on a Saturday afternoon, post jet-lag? Go for a bike ride with a cyclist friend, start along the canal, ride through the farmland to a little lake, get and fix a flat tire and make like a sculpture.
Cyclist Emilio and I rode out west of Assago (south of Milano) to the Villaggio Santa Maria. They have a man-made lake, a pool, a path around the lake shore, and grass to lounge on. It was a nice afternoon of chatting on winding farm roads, climbing overpasses, and seeing new bike routes.
Grazie, Emilio.
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Sometimes when I meet people here, I tell them my name is “Maria”. They can handle that. Or I do tell them my name is Maureen, and that “Maureen” is like “Maria” in that they both mean “Mary”.
by Maureen | May 22, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos
My flight arrived yesterday evening, followed by a train ride into the city. I caught a cab and loved the winding ride through the tight streets. Summer had arrived. It was warm. People were out strolling and the sidewalk seating was filled with people enjoying their aperitivi with friends. The whole mood had shifted in two weeks! (Although I was told that the Milanese just came off a spell of rain while I was enjoying sunshine in Seattle.)
Today, less than 24 hours after returning, I was riding my bike along the canal under a sunny sky and a low-80s afternoon. I rode for more than 2 hours and smelled wild rose, jasmine, gardenia… and some plant whose scent approximates the combination of sweat and urine.
Just 15 minutes south of Milano by bike, I was enjoying the sight of bright yellow fields of rapeseed (canola) speckled red with poppies. The stuff of masters’ paintings. Beautiful.
The cottonwood fluff was so thick that I had to hold my breath as I rode through certain areas. The pathside has become downy-soft.
As I had seen both flying into Milano and on my ride, the rice paddies are being flooded and reflect the blue of the sky above. (Who would think that Milano is surrounded by rice paddies?!)
I like the summary that this ground-level billboard provides, illustrating signature Italian food products. “Giant in quality. Small in price.”
There’s a new section of bike path whose “official” opening every cyclist has been waiting months for. They long ago gave up on waiting and simply ride around the barricades. The problem is the two underpasses that were built below the level of the canal and have been flooded all winter and spring. Today, though, they were clear of water and allowed me to keep riding without risking my life in the alternate: a busy roundabout ON A BIKE! I went further today than I normally do, almost to the town of Pavia.
This collection of signs amused me. The drainage ditch and small road behind are closed. Fishing is forbidden, as is harvesting mushrooms. What are they thinking? Such a sign TELLS me that this is a hot spot for gathering mushrooms. It gives a person reason to cross over and start hunting! (Don’t they know you should always keep your mushroom spots SECRET?!)
This poor snake didn’t make it, but the salamander I saw at the last second did. I wonder what kind of snake it is…
A sculptor has taken over this old hydraulic plant and has built a workshop (low, with the blue trim) and sculpture garden, right next to one of the canal’s many locks. One of these days I’ll have to stop and chat with him.
It pleases me to have nearly completed one year on the Naviglio Pavese Canal, with its seasonal changes. It holds something different for me each time I roll along at its side and I continue to marvel and revel. I find myself singing and speaking Italian to myself. (Uh oh. Scary.) And I certainly find myself smiling.
by Maureen | May 1, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips, Shopping & Markets
The fence joints along the canal were interesting to Dad, so I had stopped to take some detail shots. One of the cyclists, Emilio, stopped to ask if I needed any help. I explained about the fence, then we stood at the canalside and continued chatting for 20 minutes or so. On this cloudy day, we covered everything under the sun.
“Do you want to ride together for a while?”, he asked.
“Sure!”
Courteously, he seemed to be letting me set the pace, so I picked it up, pushed it and we rode hard for much of the way. “Wow!”, he said. He was surprised by the pace I could keep, which he clocked at 35 kph (almost 22 mph).
What fun! Nice to have a cycling companion.
We may ride together again another day.
Grazie, Emilio! Molto piacere.
This is what 53 looks like in Italy:
by Maureen | May 1, 2010 | Canals, Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, People, Photos, Quips
There’s a farm field along the canal, across from the Zibido Cemetery, that has piled up a rank-smelling mound of rotting straw and organic matter. Luigi sees it as prime compost for his garden and is hauling it home one bucketful at a time.
As I was riding along, I didn’t recognize him at first. Since the weather has gotten warmer, Luigi’s many-times-mended clothes have gotten more summery. (He was in a heavy jacket the last time I saw him.) As we stood there talking, I noticed that at some point in years past, he’s customized his shirt. The collar’s been removed, and careful stitches finish that edge.
We had a nice chat. Luigi told me that he grows green beans, chicory, potatoes, tomatoes, salad greens and a little bit of everything else in his garden. We talked some more about his 70-year-old bike, and some of the long-time Italian bicycle brands: Bianchi, Silvestrini, Rossignoli. Any brand markings on his bike have long since yielded to the rusty patina.
Luigi reached out and shook my hand. We said our “arrivederci” and look forward to our next conversation along the canal.
by Maureen | Apr 23, 2010 | Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips
“My car fits. Doesn’t that make it a parking space?”
“It looks like a parking space.”
“Oh. You mean this is a sidewalk?”
“If I park here in the road, when I come out I can just put the car in gear and go.”
Not ALL Italians are on foot, bike or metro! Seattle cops would meet their yearly budget if they were giving out tickets here for “improper parking”. Sometimes I’m walking along and just crack up at the creative parking I see. This would NEVER go over in the U.S.! But I guess it’s an understood system and it seems to work for everyone and so it’s OK. (It still cracks me up.)
Side note: Stop sign? I’ve figured out that, for the most part, they’re there to establish right-of-way and fault in case there’s an accident. People don’t actually stop. Not even a “California Rolling Stop”. There’s a particular stop sign in the city when I’m heading southbound out to the bike route… Cars go even faster through that intersection than if there were no sign. One day, a northbound car (with the right-of-way) approached the intersection at the same time a southbound car and I did. I realized very quickly that I’d better stop because Mr. Northbound wasn’t going to! The southbound car slowed just enough to make it all work. (In the very center of town, there’s more adherence to signals and signs, but it all seems to be a very loose, squishy system.)
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by Maureen | Apr 13, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, People, Photos
Running parallel to the Naviglio Pavese canal, between the bike path and the highway, is a drainage ditch overgrown by a tangle of brush and trees in every state of growth or death. Luigi knows this. The 82-year-old man rides his 70-year-old bike along the canal and stops to cut deadwood.
Today he worked on one particularly good dead tree, much like an alder, with plenty of big wood. Knuckles bloodied from hard work in the brush, Luigi spent his time gathering the arm-sized and smaller sticks. With his bow saw, he made half cuts in the wood, then cracked the branches across his knee to break them.
His bike is what stopped me. I don’t think I’ve seen a bike so uniformly coated with such a mist of rust from end-to-end. Think about it. He’s been riding this same bike since he was 12. It has only one speed: however fast his legs are capable of that day.
Luigi and I chatted for a little while, and he allowed me to take a few photos as we talked and he worked. I didn’t understand everything he said, but we enjoyed the meeting. I said goodbye, then walked back to my bike 20 feet away while Luigi finished loading his bike. Then I heard the bike fall and the wood tumble. It had all been out of balance and spilled.
I walked back, and held the bike for Luigi while he reloaded the wood. He excused himself, wanting me to be out of the way as he swiftly raised his curved machete, and thrust the tip down into one of the larger logs for the ride home. He bound it all with heavy string that stretched across the bow saw blade laying flat on top of the woodpile. (In my mind, I questioned that, but who am I to tell him how to tie down his firewood!?) He pushed his bike to the other side of the trail where there’s a canalside railing. I didn’t quite understand what he was explaining, but I soon understood by watching him.
Luigi’s legs are bad. He propped himself and his bike against the railing. I then held the bike while he used his hands to lift his right leg up and over the top bar. He asked me if anyone was approaching from behind, and I steadied him on his bike as he propelled himself into motion. I ran ahead to make sure that my own bike was well out of his way.
As I followed along behind him, I wondered how in the world he was going to stop where the path meets the road up ahead. And how was he going to get started again?! I too stopped at the path end, and Luigi was stalled there, half-straddling his bike. Another cyclist stopped to offer help. I finally realized that Luigi wanted me to hold the bike still while he manually lifted his leg off. He walked the bike to the crosswalk, and declined any further assistance. I watched him as he walked his dear old bike and his load of wood across the street and down a narrow alley toward home.
He’ll be back tomorrow for the logs.
– – –
It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’m having, or what I’m preoccupied with, but a brief, chance encounter like this with Luigi leaves me smiling and bright. These are the moments they don’t advertise in the travel brochures, but they are the highlights of my time here.
by Maureen | Apr 10, 2010 | Introspection, Journal
Journal Entry – 10 Aprile 2010
Really, I’ve kept my world very small. There are some that would rush to assure me otherwise, but when I honestly scan the content and structure of my life, my relationships are one-on-one and my focus is on small details. I’m not a “Grand, Big Picture” thinker.
I think I have good design thinking. And yet here I am in Milano, a world capital of design, and I have not set foot into it. I have not immersed myself by meeting who’s who and participating in local projects. I haven’t consumed the buzz of either design refinement or innovation, though opportunities overflow the city.
What have thrilled me most while here have been the fleeting encounters with people along the way: Mary at the Cemetery with her traditional handwriting; Angelo giving me a history lesson as we rode bikes through the farmland; elderly Signor Conforti in his bookshop in Florence and his handshake goodbye; the old woman in fleece pants on New Year’s Day that chatted with me about handkerchiefs and big buttons. These little meetings have been many and they’ve always left me beaming for the day.
Very informally I have been an observer and recorder of the visual lushness around me, whether it’s architecture and sculpture, garbage cans and curb cuts, or simply odd juxtapositions that tease my eye.
All of this is very telling about my priorities, desires, strengths, values and direction. Though I believe very deeply in the power of design to change the world, and though design absolutely permeates my day and my thinking, my greater joy is in personally touching one life at a time, in the smallest ways. Reality is, design fills and textures my life, but is not the focus of my life’s efforts.
I’m a “good” designer, not a “great” designer. I am unknown in the design world, amongst other designers. (Which is fine with me.) Have I “wasted” my talent? Design gives me a good living and I have assisted many clients with their goals. Is that sufficient?
– – – – –
(All of these musings help to form a plan for my direction during the remainder of my time here and once I return to the U.S. I’ve certainly had a lot of time to think!)
by Maureen | Apr 10, 2010 | Discoveries, Food!, Introspection, Journal, Shopping & Markets
THIS is the time to be in Milano. The temperature is warm enough (75 degrees) to be comfortable in light linen and cotton, and enjoyable having the windows open to fresh air, but not so warm that there’s any thought yet of air conditioning.
I had a wandering, leisurely ride through the farmland exploring roads I hadn’t tried before. Then I showered, changed and took off walking up along Corso San Gottardo. When I need a variety of miscellanea, this is the local area I frequent.
Last September, my local Bartell’s hadn’t given me enough of a thyroid medication. It’s a pretty simple and standard thing, but necessary. I needed to buy a month’s supply and expected the process to be complicated. (International prescription refill?!) I took the bottles into a local Farmacia, they looked up the chemical component of my prescription online and walked over to a drawer for a braille-embossed box of 50 pills for 2.90 euro, about $3.90. (Hmm. At that price, maybe I should stock up before I return to Seattle? Isn’t it about $33 for a month’s supply back at home?)
There’s also this notion in my head about buying some “cool” eyeglasses to take home as my “souvenir”…Glasses that you’d never find in the U.S.…Glasses that say “somewhere else”. On San Gottardo, I stepped into a centro ottico – optic center – that I had been in before. After looking around for a while, the man that owns the shop said that he remembered me. He wasn’t just flirting. He recalled the glasses I brought in two years ago when the little screw had fallen out of the hinge. In the summer of 2008 he had replaced that little screw at no charge, and simply gave me the glasses back with a smile. (To be here in a foreign country, a big city, and be remembered from two years previous…Remarkable and touching!)
There’s something about the Italians and lingerie and hosiery. They do them well. With the warmer weather, I wanted some lightweight, little socks, just enough to provide a lining, but also interesting enough with lace and fishnet and other fun patterns. I’ve scoured shops in the Seattle area and just don’t find the selection there. (Yeah. In Seattle we’re usually bundling up, not going lightweight.) I bought several pairs of socks and hose (and will have to consider stocking up on those, too, before returning to Seattle!)
The whole street was filled with people walking their kids, their dogs and their lovers. People were seated and sipping caffé, vino or Campari. It was the time of the passeggiata, the evening stroll, and the weather had offered up a time so conducive to the ritual.
As I walked back home, I stopped at the little corner bakery that has my favorite trancio pizza – pizza that is cut to the size you want and charged by weight – and bought a piece with prosciutto, mushrooms and artichokes.
Across the street, at the corner flower vendor, I selected one fragrant lily stem and carried it toward home.
(What can’t I find along San Gottardo?!)
Veering off of Gottardo, and just blocks away from home, I saw my favorite, local bartender, Robbie, in the window of the Mayflower Pub and stopped to say “hello” and give him that European two-cheek kiss. We chatted for a moment. (“Favorite Bartender”? It sounds like I’m at the bar all the time. Actually, very rarely. But both NABA and Scuola Leonardo Language School have their student social nights there so I’ve seen Robbie enough to stop and say hello. He’s a sweet guy.)
I floated the rest of the way home. At almost ten months, I actually know people here, and am recognized by people here. I can wave at people as I walk past their shop windows or they stop me on the sidewalk to talk.
This is an indescribable and stunning time… I marvel at it all.
by Maureen | Apr 7, 2010 | Canals, Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Shopping & Markets
Wednesday is “ricotta day”, the day they make fresh ricotta at the Cascina Femegro.
Even though I had just been there yesterday, a sunny afternoon and the thought of hours-fresh ricotta on some nice bread easily convinced me to hop on my bike. I headed south along the canal, and turned west into the farmland.
There are old, stone troughs spanning the drainage ditches that wind through the farmland.
The one-lane road is cyclists’ heaven. Add sunshine overhead on a spring day, and it’s perfection.
I bought 4 tubs of cheese: 1 for me, and 3 to give away to friends. I had no idea at the time that “friends” would include 9 cats in a lazy-but-playful huddle at another farm along the way home. They very cautiously came over to me as I crouched at the road side, did the “kitty squeak” and rubbed my fingers together trying to entice them. I’ve seen them there before, either on or under the roof of the small outbuilding at this historic building. The most affectionate was the tabby mamma cat that wallowed in the attention.
“OK”, I thought, “The ricotta was cheap. These kitties would enjoy it so much.” Yes. I unwrapped a domed mound of ricotta and split it up into several locations, allowing the timid cats to have a bite to eat away from the more dominant cats. After eating ’til their bellies were full, each found a spot in the sun and did their contented cat preening.
It was nice to get my “kitty fix” since I’m catless here in Milano (and since my kitty, Laddie, has died back in Seattle during my absence).
I wonder what the farmer will think when he finds the empty ricotta tub, and some remnants of cheese…
