Gardening

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A Bit of This and Oh No, Not That

I’ve been catching up on garden chores involving autumn pruning, raking, and winterizing the garden furniture. When I covered the patio table and chairs, Tessa got very excited. She thinks I assembled a fort just for her.

The curb garden is awash in color, thanks to an early autumn planting just before we left for Italy. One oddity is a new crop of sunflower plants. I had hoped the squirrels would bury the seeds for a summer crop. I never dreamed that the sunflowers would produce a crop this time of year.

Cheerful pink cosmos continue to bloom and should last till the first frost. Lucky me! I thought they would’ve been spent by now. The tomato plant in the garden’s center is still producing, but the late-season produce lacks the sweet flavor of summer. Sweet peas have sent out lots of green shoots, and the freesia have multiplied once again. My first successfully grown zinnia is a day-brightener.

It’s nice to have the bees stop by the salvia and lavender. I cut sprigs of the scented herbs for the house. They do well in water and can be left to dry in place, equally fragrant and shapely.

I’ve added some seasonal color this year, planting red and white cyclamen along the garden near the sidewalk. Cyclamen were among my mum’s favorites.

I also have a few more to get in the ground in the back garden, including two richly colored pink varieties. I ran out of daylight, then it rained. We need every drop, so there are no complaints here. It’s cool enough now that the roots should remain moist until I get them into the ground. I need a bit of energy to complete this simple task and the willpower to stay away from the garden center for the balance of the year. It’s time for the garden and the gardener to rest.

I’m happy to have Mike home from his long business trip through South America. Unfortunately, he came home with COVID. We were both vaccinated last month, so he felt sure it was a bad cold. As he felt worse, he finally tested Sunday night. We’re sleeping in separate rooms now, wearing masks, etc. I remain healthy, and I dearly hope I stay this way.

We were due to host six for Thanksgiving this Thursday, so sadly, we’ve had to let that go. I have a case of the blues. Realizing that my oldest son would be home alone on Thursday hasn’t helped. I’ve decided to prepare a small meal of favorites for three, and two of us will eat outdoors while Mike joins from the house. The weather experts predict warm and dry, so it should be okay. My youngest son is celebrating with friends in Southern California, and my sister prefers staying put.


Holidays arrive loaded with memories and expectations that often fall short. Social media amplifies and distorts. I look forward to what Katrina Kenison calls “the gift of an ordinary day.”

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ScrapHappy for Someone Else’s Scraps

My friend Mary Ann is a cardmaker, among other things. She sells her wares on Etsy and at several craft shows near the holidays. As such, people give her “stuff,” hoping she can use it.

Lucky me.

Someone gave her this stack of parchment-like paper with a rectangle of gold foil in the center. She, in turn, passed them on to me. There are over 70 lustrous sheets, and I could hardly wait to tuck into them! Today’s scraphappy post is brought to you by a friend’s, friend’s scraps.

I made three cards covering Halloween, Christmas, and Autumn.

I used one of the foiled sheets as a background, then used my die cutter to cut the leafy inset. The rest of the card is done with ink.

The Christmas tree incorporates the gold center and part of the parchment for the trunk. The green scrap below has been kicking around in my supply drawer for years. I’m glad the paper found its purpose.

The last card has a simple design and as such it’s my favorite. All of these cards were fun to create, though.

I also made a gift card holder using a small envelope template I’ve had for years.

Thank you, Mary Ann!

If you’re a scrappy maker (paper, fabric, metal, etc.), consider joining us for this enjoyable endeavor.

Thanks as always, Kate. Please follow the links below if you would like to see what the other makers are up to.
Kate, Gun, Eva, Sue, Lynda,

Birthe, Turid, Susan, Cathy, Tracy,

Jan, Moira,Sandra, Chris,

Claire, Jean, Jon, Dawn, Gwen,

Sunny, Kjerstin, Sue L, Vera, Edith

Ann, Dawn 2, Carol, Preeti,

Debbierose, Nóilin, Viv, Karrin,

Amo, Alis

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Miseries and Mysteries and Mourning on Hold

It’s been a surreal and emotional few weeks as we work through the complexities in the aftermath of my brother-in-law’s death.

The coroner completed a preliminary autopsy, but it will be at least a month before the tox reports are in. They issued a death certificate with the cause of death pending and released JJ’s remains to the Neptune Society for cremation. Mike’s greatest fear is that his brother suffered a lingering death. For now, we have to live with the unknown.

Also unknown is the mystery surrounding JJ’s car. We learned from the apartment manager that when the police and medical examiner arrived, a man she didn’t know tried repeatedly to gain entry into the apartment. The following day, someone disregarded the “Warning – Official Seal” placed by the coroner and entered the apartment. The car and my brother-in-law’s phone and laptop went missing that day.

Mike contacted the DMV and the Sacramento Sheriff’s Department to open an investigation into the potential theft. We pondered different scenarios: Did he sell the car to this man? The car is only a year old. Why would he sell the car, his only form of transportation, and why would the guy try to register the car a week after JJ’s death? We wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but things didn’t add up.

The car later resurfaced at the apartment complex, and the sheriff came and impounded the car at a tow lot. Mike had to prepare documents so we could claim the car (about 100 miles from where we live). Before he could do that, the man who took possession of the car the first time went to the tow yard, presented his newly minted car registration, and drove the car off the lot, telling the tow yard that he planned to sell the vehicle. We couldn’t believe it.

Meanwhile, a special carrier delivered JJ’s ashes to our home. The driver showed great compassion as she handed us the cremains and asked for Mike’s signature. We had a somber moment at the end of our driveway as we thanked her and carried the box into the house. My chest tightens just thinking about it.

More mischief ensued. The bank told us that fraudulent checks had been written against JJ’s account amounting to nearly $20,000. The perpetrators wrote four checks to three individuals after his death. The bank reversed three checks, and the fourth didn’t pass through due to insufficient funds. I guess they planned to keep withdrawing as long as they could.

We heard from the sheriff again. They found the car in a public lot. They asked the driver to remove his effects and towed it for a second time to the impound lot. This time, the car was marked as stolen.

On November 3rd, we took the train to Sacramento and hired an Uber to drive us to the tow yard. We had four hours to collect the car, go to the coroner for JJ’s personal effects, go to the local post office to complete a change of address, and finally meet the apartment manager. She has been kind and helpful through it all, so we wanted to meet her in person and bring her a gift of thanks. She greeted us both with a warm hug, the highlight of an otherwise depressing trip.

When we picked up the car, we were dismayed at the horrible smell reminiscent of the apartment. We hoped to have it professionally cleaned but didn’t have time. From there, we drove to the coroner’s office to collect the items on my brother-in-law’s person at the time of death. The coroner is open to the public for just three hours a day. Receiving the contents was another emotional blow for Mike. He had hoped for a wallet with personal items and photos, perhaps a glimpse into his brother’s recent life. Instead, they handed him a small plastic bag with a driver’s license and two bank cards. Further, JJ looked unwell in his license photo, resulting in more sadness and more grief.

With that time-sensitive detail out of the way, we did a quick tidy of the car, still parked in the coroner’s lot. We filled a bag with trash and unwanted items, wiped the seats and cleared out old cigarette residue so that our long drive home would be bearable.

At 4:30 we made our last stop at the local post office and grabbed a quick bite before returning to San Jose. Mike flew to South America for a two-week business trip a day later, weary but grateful that we accomplished so much.

I’m looking forward to Mike’s return on Saturday, followed a few days later by Thanksgiving and a four-day holiday weekend. It will be a welcome change of pace and the chance to shower him with lots of TLC. Then, perhaps, the tears will flow.

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The Perfect Pumpkin

Isn’t it beautiful?

My friend Elizabeth took up glass-blowing as a hobby 13 years ago. She knows I love pumpkins, so she offered to make one for my birthday. I’m in awe of her talents, and I’m equally smitten with this pumpkin.

Elizabeth continues to perfect her skills in blowing glass and flameworking at Bay Area Glass Institute in San Jose. “BAGI’s mission is to provide accessible, hands-on glass experiences that educate and inspire current and future generations of patrons, students, artists, and our community.” Source BAGI website

BAGI earns revenue from classes and events through grants, funding from the City of San Jose, other arts and science organizations, and patrons who donate annually.

Here’s a parting shot.

Happy Halloween

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Multiplying Grief

We arrived home from Italy on a Friday early this month. Five days later, the Sacramento coroner called to tell Mike his youngest brother JJ had been found dead in his apartment. We hadn’t seen him in years.

The brothers were bereft when Mike’s parents died weeks apart in 2008; however, JJ took it the hardest. At the time, he lived on the same property as his parents, managing a small vineyard and eating meals with his folks. He never fully launched, even though he was in his early forties.

After settling the affairs, he moved to Sacramento and cut off his entire family, including his brothers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. We collectively reached out over time, but he changed his email address and phone number and didn’t respond to physical mail. I had the local police do a welfare check in the early days, and they called and said he was okay.

Learning of his death last week has torn the bandage off a deep wound. Compounding the loss, we discovered he’d been living in squalor and warned many times to clean up his place or face eviction. He had sufficient financial means to buy his own place, yet chose a different path. His apartment manager was under the impression that he had no family, unaware of our attempts to make contact. We’re devastated.

Mike’s middle brother met us at the apartment on Saturday so we could collect paperwork, personal effects, and keys to JJ’s car, mailbox, and storage unit. The investigator sealed the apartment when he left on Tuesday, but someone let themselves in the following day and took my brother-in-law’s car, further complicating an already challenging situation. We had been warned of the apartment’s condition, so I bought protective gear in advance, including respirator masks, heavy-duty gloves, and shoe coverings. We had no way to prepare, however, for the smell.

I uncovered a dead rat in the first hour. More followed. The stench of spoiled food, rat urine, and cigar ash permeated every corner. Sadness and dismay, anger, and grief hung in the air. At one point, I kneeled on a plastic lid to gather coins that had fallen to the floor. A giant rat darted out from its cover, raced by my leg, and took refuge under a stack of crates.

Bone-weary and filthy, we retreated to a hotel and later a meal. It’s been a lot to process.

We returned home on Sunday, eating junk food for dinner in the car and taking another round of showers. Mike continues to be repulsed by the terrible stench that permeates everything, so I spent Monday airing out the paperwork we retrieved, placing framed pictures in a plastic bag, and taking the washed coins I gathered from the apartment floor to Coinstar, donating the proceeds to the Red Cross.

When I close my eyes, images of the apartment appear. I’m a professional organizer by trade, so I’ve seen this before; however, it’s another story when it’s family.

Meanwhile, we await the autopsy results. When finalized, the medical examiner will release JJ’s remains to the Neptune Society for cremation. A professional team emptied the apartment of debris, and the highway patrol will continue investigating the missing car.

JJ’s death leaves us with multiplying losses: what is and what might have been. Two brothers are devastated with profound grief and a sadness that won’t soon disappear.

JJ and Olga (my mother-in-law)1968 and 1995, Francini brothers and nephews, wedding party (JJ as best man), Thanksgiving, 2008.

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Mike Drinks Coffee in Italy: A Retrospective

My husband is passionate about his coffee. At home, he grinds the beans, froths the milk, and enjoys his cup with breakfast. He makes himself an espresso while working from home in the afternoon, but he never drinks coffee after 4.

Zurich airport

Except in Italy.

For the past two weeks, Mike “Sweetie” Francini has enjoyed his coffee fix from Venezia to Roma with Firenze in between. He’s had a cup at the Zurich airport and again in Roma. He consumed small cups of the brew on a train.

When his coffee arrived at the end of a meal or in the company of a luscious pastry, I started documenting the ceremonial downing of each hot brew.

I am a blogger, after all.*

~ ~ ~

I learned (about ten minutes ago) that according to ellianos, Italy had its first taste of coffee in the 17th century when the “bustling port city of Venice became one of the first European hubs to import coffee beans from traders of the Ottoman Empire.”

In the late 19th century “Italy introduced espresso to the market. Espresso isn’t a specific type of Italian coffee. Rather, it’s an efficient and concentrated brewing method that can be used on any type of coffee bean. This new Italian method completely changed the way people enjoy coffee around the globe.”

*I prefer tea, which has been my hot beverage of choice my entire life. Dad hailed from England after all and my Nova Scotia-born mum drank instant black coffee. It wasn’t really a choice at all.

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We’re Okay

Laurie of Notes From the Hinterland reached out earlier today to be sure we were not involved in the tragic bus accident in Venice. Thank you for checking on us, Laurie.

A bus carrying tourists went off the side of the road near Venice, Italy, killing the driver and 21 tourists returning from a campsite. There were a number of injuries as well. Current speculation is that the driver suddenly became ill before losing control of the bus.

Life is fleeting. My heart goes out to all who lost a loved one.

Alys

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When in Rome

I found the perfect spot to share my age and birthday with a calendar at the Vatican Museum. Since we’re in Rome, I opted for Roman Numerals.


We started the day early with a quick breakfast and a Metro ride to Vatican City. We had tickets for a garden tour, so it was nice to get there before the heat descended.

The gardens show off English, French, and Italian styles, with a long history of donated trees, plants, and sculptures. The fountains are always refreshing, but my favorite is home to red-eared turtles, which we spotted swimming and sunning themselves.

Viewing the Sistine Chapel was the one let-down of the day. We jostled down several flights of stairs before being ushered in and pushed to the center of a room with shoulder-to-shoulder people. Guards kept yelling at us to clear the imaginary aisle of the room, moving us toward the center of a packed room. The limited time we had to try and enjoy and reflect on the magnificent art above felt fleeting. We stood together in that tightly packed, stuffy room, trying to appreciate the grandeur, but my instinct to flee took over, and we exited as quickly as possible.

Mike pictured in the Gallery of Geographic Maps. His father hailed from Rome, but immigrated to Argentina after the war.

Mike at the Vatican Museum
Ceiling in the Gallery of Maps

It took another twenty minutes to exit the museum; by then, it was close to three, and we were exhausted.

A quiet sit-down with cold drinks and a shared Margherita pizza steadied the ship. The metro ride back was equally packed, but for that short duration and the welcoming cool air, it all worked well.

We arrived at the hotel with the loveliest surprise: the staff left us a bottle of Prosecco, a pair of glasses, and the nice note below.

I want to share one last thing before we head out to enjoy my birthday dinner and our delicious Prosecco. We ate at the same cafe for lunch and dinner when we arrived in Rome. It’s a stone’s throw from our hotel, so it seemed easier than looking for something else. For the rest of the trip, we’ve tried different places daily. When we returned to our hotel last night, one of the servers recognized me and waved from across the street! Tonight, another server called out to us and waved. I can’t tell you how warm and welcoming it’s been.

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Five Days in Firenze

We said goodbye to Firenze today as we boarded our train. Getting your bearings in a new place often takes a few days, but we immediately felt at home in Florence.

While great cities are known for their museums and galleries, churches, and historically significant sites, the joy of travel for me is often the unexpected.

One example: I spotted what’s known as a wine window a short walk from our hotel. I snapped a photo, then looked it up and learned that: “They were created as far back as 1559, when Cosimo de’ Medici, the ruler of Florence, allowed wealthy, noble families to sell wine they produced out of their homes.” (via Atlas Obscura).

The Buchette del vino, or little wine doors, proved helpful for a different reason during the plague and adapted again during COVID. Pictured below: Designated wine door, probable wine door, wind door converted into resident names/buzzers, and an artistic rendering of one.

Another delight was an immersive art experience off of the main hall of the Officina Profumo-Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella. A friend recommended this perfumery, which is extraordinary in its own right, but the Blooming in Paradise experience was unexpected. As you enter the room, the rich scent of one of their florals draws you in as slowly changing projections of flowers surround you. Soft music and dim lights enhance the experience and fill your senses. It certainly appealed to my gardening soul.

We loved the profuma-farmaceutica’s rich history and gorgeous buildings. Like many things in Florence, it’s been there for hundreds of years.

One more fun surprise was our bed and breakfast. The building was recently remodeled and decorated in Art Deco themes and prints. Illustrations from Vogue magazine lined the walls, and replicas from the period greeted us when we returned each night.

Art Deco happens to be my favorite style of visual arts and architecture. Mike worried beforehand that he had booked a room too far out of the city. Imagine my delight when we checked in to this charmer for five days instead.

On our way home one evening, we heard a young opera singer in one of the piazzas. A sizable crowd had grown around him. We were fortunate to catch a glimpse and listen to the night’s last two songs.

We had more delicious meals than I can count and many tastes of regional gelato. Mike, a self-proclaimed coffee snob, enjoyed espressos and cafe lattes daily. The service has been spectacular throughout, and most days, we’ve enjoyed our meals outdoors. People-watching never gets old.

Of the “must see in Firenze” list, we toured the Uffizi, which “houses the Italian Renaissance art, featuring works by such masters as Botticelli, Titian, Michelangelo, and da Vinci.”

We spent an evening at the Galleria dell’Accademia: “Europe’s first school of drawing, this museum of art is chiefly famous for its several sculptures by Michelangelo, notably his David, in addition to an extensive collection of 15th- and 16th-century paintings.”

Seeing Michelangelo’s statue of David, a 17-foot masterpiece, has been a lifelong dream since taking art history in university over forty years ago. It’s humbling being in its presence.

We enjoyed a meal in front of the Palazzo Vecchio and again across from Piazza del Duomo.

Sharing narrow streets with intrepid taxi drivers and enthusiastic motorbikes kept us on our toes as we walked between five and seven miles daily.

I will remember the sound of crickets, the hum of humanity, flower boxes, and postcard stands. I haven’t taken one moment of this fantastic trip for granted. I’m so lucky to be here.

Parting shots:

fabric shop in Florence
The Tower of Arnolfo
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Murano, Burano, Venezia, and More

Mike at Piazza San Marco

On our last full day in Venezia, we took a boat ride to Murano, famous for blown glass, and then on to Burano, an even smaller island known for lace-making.

I’ve seen glassblowing demonstrations before, but not in Italy. Everything is magical in Italy. One glassblower made an intricate vase, and the second shaped a glass horse in minutes. It was a Sunday, so the factory was closed, but we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless.

In addition to lace-making, Burano is known for its colorfully painted houses; the house’s color designates the owner. Once a home is painted blue, for instance, any future buyer has to leave the house blue.

As we crossed one of the piazzas, I stopped to greet this charming pup who thoroughly enjoyed a back scratch. We were both reluctant to part company so soon.

Hugo the dog in Burano

As for this Burano resident, she’s a feline’s feline, so in other words, “get lost.”

Cat in Burano

The boat ride back made me feel young again. We got to sit on the upper deck while the captain played popular tunes from his phone. The guide passed out small plastic cups filled with Prosecco, and it seemed we were all smiling or laughing.

A replica of a galleon sailed by to our delight, and we learned that it is something you can hire for a wedding.

Wedding Boat in the lagoon

After eating and more walking, we returned to our hotel to pack our bags for the following day.

We took a vaporeto (water bus) to catch our train on Monday, landing in Firenze late afternoon. We walked forty minutes with our travel bags through narrow, cobbled streets and crowded courtyards and decided to take a taxi next time. We forgot that we’re in our sixties and not our thirties.

We’re staying in another charming hotel, part apartment building, part small business, and part hotel. Our room is on a “half-floor,” which means we step off the glass elevator on the floor below and then walk up a few steps. I love the large hotel windows that open, letting in fresh air and light. This morning, Mike spotted a neighbor’s cat on the adjacent balcony. I feel right at home.

View from Maison Santa Croce

We lunched on paninis before spending time at the Galleria Uffizi. It was incredible seeing famous artwork in a gorgeous setting; however, an aching back and fatigue got the better of me toward the end. We stopped for refreshments, and now I’m resting at our hotel while Mike ventured out for a new pair of shoes.

My goodness, there is so much more to see and do! Thank you for following along.

Goodnight from River Arno, Firenze.