Category Archives: Workouts

Tuscany – Day 21

A stay home day is just fine. Chain Saw Man gets very busy through the morning, and this time two trucks are spotted in the general vicinity on what we’re now calling Chain Saw Ridge. And he’s at it again today. CSM is no slacker.

Neither am I as I appear to be Griffin’s Race, Jump, Pratfall partner. I hold up my end, but still have time for puzzling. Making progress, and Kat is making serious progress in that area. She and Jason head to the market, and Griffin’s satisfied to hang with the rest of us. Kayla lures him outside for a race, but he spots his trucks inside, so in we go. He has several Mario figures—his new hero, perhaps displacing Blaze and that gang. Down the sliding race track with Mario, time to sleep for Mario, time to wake up and slide for Mario. Mario is very busy for awhile.

Grandkids, toys and a view. Photo by Kat.

A little lunch when the shoppers return, Kat makes cookies and BW takes his drone on its longest journey yet.

Perfect cookies cooling. Photo by Kayla.
Cookie alignment. Photo by Kat.

We have discovered the Italian brand of Fruit Loops. Kayla decrees them okay, and undoubtedly healthier than the real thing. Griffin loves them—but often requests the purple ones. Kayla questions this preference as to her pallet they’re all the same. Later at dinner, Kat will do a blind taste test, and proves Griffin is correct—or at least she and Griffin share the same taste buds.

The breezeway lives up to its name. Photo by Kayla.

But before dinner, we all clean up and change. Kat and Griffin visit my room as Kat’s booking a little fun time for the girls. We’re going to make silver jewelry, instructed by a local silversmith. Griffin doesn’t know a bed that isn’t made for bouncing on or jumping off of. Kat and I take turns—as directed—helping him take the big jump from the chest at the foot of the bed to the floor.

Somehow he decides it’s now my turn to jump. Unexpected! But he doesn’t object when I sort of sit on the chest, and assists me in my version of a jump before he switches to Hide and Seek. He hides—in my closet, every time. Oddly, I never find him.

Then they’re off, and I hit the showers.

We’re booked for dinner at 7:30. Just before 7, Jason tells me Griffin’s fallen asleep—small wonder. He gets his brief nap before Kat carries his limp self out. We’re armed with Italian Fruit Loops in case of crankiness, but though zoned, he’s surprisingly non-cranky.

Filling the space with a late nap. Photo by Kat.

We arrive right on time at the restaurant the driver recommended for pizza. The cook/host/owner/part-owner (?) seems surprised we arrive on time, but gracious—any table we like as none of the outdoor seating’s yet occupied. We sit, order a bottle of water, and observe what’s essentially Main Street in a small town. A car parked across the narrow street scrapes the stone wall of the building on his way out. He appears unconcerned.

People sit and chat at the wine bar next to us, others walk by. Another guy walks past our table into the kitchen/bar, and it becomes clear our place is a two-man operation, and this may be the owner.

The menus have English names for the pizzas—like Body and Soul, Nice Pesto. Jason uses his phone to translate as the descriptions are in Italian. They also have a handful of appetizers, and Kat picks one—a kind of puff pastry turnover filled with tuna with caramelized onions on top. She’s hoping Griffin will go for the tuna.

Pizza with ricotta, fresh tomatoes, pesto. So going with Nice Pesto on this one. Photo by j a-b.
Pizza with ham and cheese. Photo by BW.
Margherita pizza — which can fill the Body & Soul. (I don’t know, this was a guess. ~L) Photo by j a-b.

I won’t call the service slow. I’m going with very, very laid back. Friendly with it when we eventually order. The tuna deal, pizzas, more water, a bottle of Chianti.

While we wait, another car slides in to park across the street, bumps into a pole. Apparently no big deal. I assume the cars parked or moving are locals as through traffic isn’t allowed after 8–and it’s already well after as another starts to slide next to the building, clearly texting while doing so. And somehow she avoids mishap.

Bells chime on the hour and the half from the bell tower across the street. At nine—I don’t know why—they chime like mad things.

Group selfie. Photo by Kayla.

Griffin absolutely goes for the tuna. The pizza’s delicious, and very sloppy. Kayla solves this by folding pieces in half. I go for the lift by a fork until I get it up method. Kat finally succumbs, with apologies, to knife and fork. However you get the job done, it’s pretty damn good. Griffin agrees, though when he takes the piece I offer, most of it slides off the crust. He likes the crust. And the purple Fruit Loops.

For a kid wakened from a nap, hauled into the car, packed in a stroller, parked at a restaurant for more than two hours, he’s remarkably chill. Maybe his sense memory of his first year and a half of life’s clicked in. Scotland, Ireland, California, Hawaii, Montana, New York—there may be more in there. In any case, he’s a most excellent traveler.

We miss the sunset, but catch the final dramatic red blush with the growing moon sailing overhead. And head home for cappuccino. Kat wants to try making it, and does a very fine job.

Last light. Photo by j a-b.
Evening show. Photo by Kayla.
Sunset paparrazzi. Photo by Nora.

From the looks of the sky this morning, I expect another pretty day. I’m going to work out, and consider it training for any upcoming races and jumps.

Nora


Bruce’s countryside video.

Tuscany – Day 20

Jason, Kat and Kayla head out to Pisa, and Griffin invites me to sit and watch a morning video. It’s a clear day, and will be hot—but not quite the triple digits hot. The boy doesn’t notice his mother’s not there for awhile, then he gets up, wanders into the kitchen. I know he’s looking for her. He’ll usually call out: Mommy? Where are you? But today, he just looks. Then one of the cleaning crew comes in—she has dark hair like Kat, worn pulled up as Kat often does.

I can see for an instant he thinks it’s Kat, then realizes, nope, not Mom. But he decides she’s worthy of attention. Since the pandemic, he’s been very wary of strangers, but he likes the look of this one, so follows her around, chatters at her. She’s amused and chatters back. The toddler English and the adult Italian don’t seem to matter in this cheerful conversation. Then she walks over to our dining room Start/Finish line, and he assumes: Race, and gives her butt a little nudge.

Dormant bath in wall with green. Photo by Nora.

She is even more amused, and I’m delighted when he doesn’t back off when she crouches down, touches him and they converse in their different languages.

I race with him as she’s busy, then Grandda joins. Now it’s chase and catch Grandda time.

But when the second housekeeper comes in, he decides she looks interesting, too. And when the pair of them start up the stairs, he’s happy to believe this is a race. Up the stairs. Race Up! So up we go, trailing the two housekeepers into Kayla’s room.

They work around him as he jogs in a circle, babbles, then climbs on the bed to jump and bounce. We have a fairly dignified pillow fight on Kayla’s bed, pretend to sleep. Back down he finds one of the buckets with cleaning products interesting, and I must explain: That’s not yours. Fine then, back to videos and the occasional race. Then a break to play trucks before lunch.

I puzzle and BW reads while he eats.

He’s truly good as gold and very entertaining throughout the day.

It’s a long trip for the adventurers, and they bring back many stories and pictures. After the drive, lunch—which given the rest they think should’ve been reversed.

[Presenting photos from Pisa, captions from Laura. Any errors are mine. ~L]

Alfa Romeo. Photo by Kat.
The Tower. Photo by j-ab.
Fallen Angel. Photo by j a-b.
A pano of the entire Piazza del Miracoli. From l: Pisa Baptistry, Pisa Cathedral, the Campanile (Leaning Tower). Photo by j a-b.
The crowds around the tower. Photo by Kayla.
Dramatic biblical moment. Photo by Kat.
Pisa Mandevilla. Photo by Kat.
Coat of arms. Photo by Kat.

The climb up the Leaning Tower is circular and tilted—with my tendencies toward motion sickness and vertigo, I suspect I wouldn’t make it. Kat has a little trouble, and from the interior pictures I can see why. But they make it to the top and the spectacular view. And after time admiring it, documenting it and regaining some balance, down again.

Look WAY up. Photo by Kayla.
The view from the Tower. Photo by j a-b.
A selection of bells at the top of the Tower. Photo by j a-b.
Intrepid climbers overlooking Pisa. Photo by j a-b.
Looking down into Pisa. Photo by j a-b.

On the way back they spot a winery that looks like a castle—and we may adventure there. Though Kayla doesn’t like wine, she’d like to visit a winery here. I like wine, and would also enjoy a visit.

For dinner we just raid the fridge and pantry—there’s plenty to go around.

And it’s time to Chase And Catch Grandda again.

Mother/Son Chillaxing. Photo by Dad.

Then sit outside in the shade of the back yard, relax while Griffin plays with water, pouring—intensely—from pitcher to bowl, through the net bag that held a kind of Ferris wheel toy, and all over him.

Pre-bed pool time. Photo by Kat.

An evening swim for Kat and Griffin, another spectacular sunset.

Silhouettes in setting sun. Photo by j a-b.
Sunset with flower. Photo by Nora.
Filmy clouds post sunset. Photo by Kat.
La Luna is growing. Photo by Nora.

Cloudy and cooler this morning. Chain Saw Man was busy earlier, but must be taking a well-deserved break.

I’ll get my workout in, then I suspect plans will depend on the weather.

Nora


In today’s #randomkatness

Nine-spotted moth spotted by Kat.

Plus this beauty.

I’m going to call this #randomhatness. Photo by j a-b.

Tuscany – Day 19

BW gets a glimpse of a little yellow tractor disappearing into a thick swath of cypress on the western hill. CSM’s in there somewhere.

Post work out, I hear the squeals and cheers of racing. Today’s track is around the dining room table with competitors Kayla and Griffin. It’s pretty sweet to watch my oldest and youngest play. Before long, I’m drafted onto the field.

At one point Kayla tells him she needs a break and sits. Oh, the sad! No whining, no vocal objection. He simply hangs his head in a moment of mourning silence before I distract him back into the race with just me.

It’s a hot—triple digits hot—hang out Sunday. BW does some droning, Jason’s checking on his house—big rain storm back home. There’s racing and videoing, a new puzzle to puzzle, hide and seeking, Mario Carting and Mario Partying.

Temps. Photo by BW.

Danger Guy dangers himself off the game room sofa onto the tile floor. A hug and Mommy stroking’s all he needs before he’s back in business with a new game. Crash The Nana—with pillows. I execute many dramatic fake falls which pleases him.

Shade time. Photo by Kayla.

Cooking starts to happen. Scrub and quarter potatoes with a sharp knife—thanks, Kat—figure out conversion for oven temp—thanks, Jason—gather herbs, mince garlic, grind some pepper, slide big ass pan in the oven.

Family dinner. Photo by BW.

BW’s drafted to make a salad, Kayla a cheese board. Kat will handle the broccoli. Jason’s assigned to make some fries—we have frozen—for Danger Guy. And we discover, unlike at home, these won’t cook in the oven—translation from package instruction says fry in oil. An attempt to subvert this with the oven fails. We have sunflower oil, so Jason fries, Kat steams (the broccoli), Kayla creates, BW tosses. I stir up potatoes, slice some bread, some tomatoes—add fresh basil, pepper and olive oil there.

Delightful plates. Photo by BW.

And indoor meal tonight due to heat and bugs. And it’s all more than fine. A lovely family Sunday dinner in Tuscany. After which BW makes cappuccino and the gang cleans up.

BW-made capuccino. Photo by Kayla.

It’s pool time. Out of the blasting afternoon sun, an evening swim sounds good. Knowing the water temp won’t meet my standards, I will observe and document. Kayla’s reaction doesn’t surprise, but she eventually inches herself in.

The hard part – getting in. Photo by Nora.
Nearly there. Photo by Nora.
Everyone’s adjusted to the water. Photo by Nora.

We examine the room near the pool—another bedroom we didn’t need, but haven’t looked over. BW finds one of my In Death books inside. Nice.

Excellent reading choice. Photo by Nora.

As the sun goes down, so does the heat. It’s breezy with it, so very, very pleasant.

Sunset show. Photo by Nora.

Bedtime—but I place a couple puzzle pieces first.

Today, Danger Guy stays with Nana and Grandda while his parents and cousin adventure off to Pisa. BW and I have been there, done that, so we’ll give Griffin a day of adventuring at home. I hope Danger Guy takes it easy on his nana’s heart rate.

Chain Saw Man’s busy, and some bird calls out—a hoarse call, like it has a cold. Not a cloud in the pale blue morning sky.

I’m going to see about getting a short work out in before I step up for Nana duty.

Nora

Tuscany – Day 18

Morning mist. Photo by Nora.

First, for those of you wondering why we don’t/hoping we will walk down to see what Chain Saw Man is building, an explanation.

We’re on a hilltop here, overlooking the valley with more forested hills to the east and west. CSM is somewhere—best we can tell—on a ridge to the west, within one of the dense forests. We can’t see him, only hear.

No way to walk down anywhere from here as the first step would be a doozy!—which is why we have stone walls to prevent tumbling off the hill. Plus he’s not `down’ there, he’s over on another hill somewhere. I can see a vineyard on the top of the hill to our right—the west—and what looks like a dirt road going down, but even with all the sounds of building, we never see any movement.

Don’t know where he is, and there’s a lot going on over there this pretty Sunday morning. Sawing, hammering, and the first time I hear the sound of a vehicle. A tractor, maybe? A small bulldozer? Not sure, as it’s just not visible. I just heard a tree go down, and I was looking in that general direction, but didn’t see one fall.

Anyway.

Command Center request for an actual photo of the huge rosemary plant mentioned back on the first day at the villa fulfilled! Nora provides scale. Photo by Nora’s iPad.

After work out, I join the family for a pleasant time in what’s sort of our sitting room/Griffin’s play room. The cleaning crew’s doing what must be their Saturday ritual, and that’s thorough, so we’re staying out of their way as much as possible. Kayla appears late morning as she’s spent some Face Time with her guy as he and his family are leaving for a cruise and they won’t be able to talk for about a week.

Busy boy. Photo by Kat.

We think to visit the shop in the village, then make a quick hit on the market for fresh strawberries and what Kat needs to make cookies.

Daddy stays back with Griffin, and off we go.

Sadly the shops are closed. I guess Saturday isn’t a big hunt through shops day in Barbarino. So with Kat as our driver and tour guide we head to the big COOP—like chicken coop. There are two—one big, one small—we want the big one as there’s a better chance they’ll have Kayla’s oat milk.

We also score, to our satisfaction, chocolate chips, and to my pleasure, two bottles of Veuve.

Unlike the shops in Barbarino, the COOP is a madhouse. It’s interesting looking for specifics, identifying flour, brown sugar and so on when it’s not in the packaging you’re used to and in another language. Like a hunt, and we become skilled hunters.

Home we go, me to make frozen margaritas, Kat to make cookies.

The reason for margaritas needs no explanation, but the cookies?

Griffin is fond of Chips Ahoy—only the chewy ones, red package. He’s used to being offered a cookie or two daily, so his parents brought along what they thought would last through our Italian adventures. However, there are more of us offering those cookies (often as bribes, of which I am a firm proponent).

He’s running out. We have substituted what he calls cookie cake—some sort of Twinkie looking thing without the filling but with tiny chocolate chips. This was Kayla score, but she shares. Kat’s decided to try to reproduce cookies that meet Griffin’s Chewy Chips Ahoy taste bar.

I’m going to make strawberry margaritas for Kayla and Jason, and for me, a purist, regular. BW can have either. I need cookie-baking Kat’s guidance on the machine to start. But soon I’m juicing and measuring (mostly eyeballing as measuring tools are scarce) slicing and blending. And produce pretty strawberry margs while Kat makes the world’s smallest batch of cookies (it’s a test batch, after all).

Then what I consider a real frozen marg. And I fear I’ll never use margarita mix for anything but marinating chicken and fish again. Fresh is so much better.

Hummus plate for Kayla courtesy of Kat. Photo by BW.

In her cook’s mode, Kat makes hummus for Kayla and presents a lovely tray. BW, Kayla and I sit out, BW and I with our second margaritas and some cheese and crackers, Kayla with her hummus tray, and enjoy the view and the sunshine.

Inside, the kitchen smells like fresh cookies, and a few sit out cooling—bigger than the standard Chips Ahoy. Back in the sitting room we learn Griffin took one from Daddy, had a bite, made a disillusioned face and handed it to his mom.

But then went back, took Daddy’s cookie, had some more. I’m too full of margaritas and cheese for cookies, but BW had one. Kat has another culinary success.

Lovely day. Photo by j a-b.

It’s game time. Kat v Kayla on the ever-popular Mario Cart. Danger Guy is dangering on the sofa below the screen. I take the other sofa and a bat nap.

We plan to try the other restaurant in the village—recommended for its pizza. It doesn’t open until 7:30, so we head out about 7:15. Griffin plays a game with me and Kayla, closes the gate behind us, guards it. We pretend to beg to come in. He opens it a crack, peeks out. This keeps us entertained.

Peeking through. Photo by Kayla.

We also discover the old door across the road sort of built into the wall of the hill isn’t locked. Inside a kind of small cave are big old wine jugs and baskets. I don’t know why.

Door. Photo by Kayla.
Old bottle recepticle. Photo by Kayla.

Shops still closed in the village, and we learn our intended destination is fully booked for Saturday night. We go next door where we had dinner Friday, elect the street patio area.

Kayla and I are going to split a salad to start—what I thought would be a smallish Isalada Mista, that turns out to be huge with tons of roasted veggies. We make a spare plate of tons of roasted veggies to take home for tomorrow’s Sunday morning omelettes (by Kat).

Then there’s pizza, pasta, wine. We don’t lack for conversation. Kayla remembers I can find a song containing almost any word you can throw out. My father could do it. So words are tossed, and Kat says I’m faster than Google. But, I admit, chocolate stumped me. Jason Googles and finds many. None of which I recognized.

Cappuccino, lemoncello—and then they bring us a complimentary dolci, a pretty crepe with many forks.

Dessert with forks. Photo by Kayla.

On the waddle back, we make a reservation at the other place for Tuesday night, so we’ll now compare food and service.

The view of the sky, that thumbnail moon, the red glow at the horizon, from the parking lot is just awesome. Which may be why they have a platform you can go up to to enhance that view.

Home for a last sit out and bask for me, then bed.

Rosy horizon. Photo by BW.
Evening family shot. Photo by BW.
Day is done. Photo by j a-b.
Kayla-approved shot by her Nana.

We plan a Sunday dinner at home tonight. I’m going to make roasted, herbed-up potatoes—a crowd fave. We have salad makings, broccoli, cheese, bread, left-overs.

I may write awhile after my work out, or sit and read—or watch what I assume will be more Mario Cart competition.

What I think was a big gray cat just dashed up and away. At least I hope it was a cat as I only got a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. We’ve seen a little black and white one in the bushes outside the gate, so I’m going with another cat.

Chain Saw Man continues his work, and I think everyone else is still sleeping.

I predict another fine day in Tuscany.

Nora


And in today’s #randomkatness (cooking division):

A boy with his fishing pole in front of the moon. Food art by Kat, photo by j a-b.

Tuscany – Day 17

Before I work out it’s time for some morning video amusement with Griffin. Then I discover Kat’s making Eggs Benedict—a BW fave. Some round Italian type bacon will substitute for the usual Canadian, AND she’s making Hollandaise sauce from scratch.

Eggs poaching. Photo by Nora.

I must watch the process, and use her phone to memorialize some of it.

The result is lovely, and BW decrees YUM.

Finished product. Photo by BW.
Kat’s plate with tomatoes and rice. Photo by Kat.
And a side of sliced strawberries in a lemon rind bowl. Photo by Kat.

Well past time for me to head down to my outdoor gym. Water bottles for weights day, and Tony Horton on my Beach Body app. While I’m lifting I hear the thunder of a plane. A BIG plane that sounds like it’s about to land on the roof of the pergola.

So I step out in time to see—farther away than I’d have guessed—some sort of fighter jet streak by and over the western hills. Back to Tony, a quick one with Shaun T to cap off some cardio, back to Tony for some core mat work, then finish up with Autumn for stretches. Good session!

Up to charge my tablet as 90 minutes or so of streaming eats up batteries.

A slice of cold pizza with Jason and Kat in the kitchen as we discuss plans to go into the village for dinner tonight. Then up to change.

Pretty day, temps rising again, but I don’t mind. I consider setting up to work awhile, or hanging out and watching the Mario Cart competition. Mario wins. And when the game ends I decide an hour’s work is now the thing.

I spot a man and woman outside the gate. It looks like she’s taking pictures of the hydrangeas as they stand and discuss something. She’s carrying some sort of packet, and they’ve come in two cars. Up the steep road they walk. Huh.

Before I go out, I see her come back, with two other guys. Big discussion right outside the gate, then she walks off a distance—like you do when you’re measuring. Discuss, discuss. I have no idea what that’s all about, maybe a property line dispute. Who knows.

Kat, Kayla and I (mostly Kat!) finish the puzzle! Hurray!

Punnily enough, they finished! Photo by Kayla.

I go to work. It’s nice and quiet again.

Plans are to leave about six, and it’s about five-thirty when I surface. I’m going to change into something cooler for dinner, then I hang with Kayla for awhile while everyone else is pulling it together.

You can’t drive to the restaurant—the narrow street forbids car traffic after eight, and we’ll surely be beyond that when we’re done. I go with Jason and Griffin (Griffin considered driving but was denied) and the others lead the way.

It’s a pretty drive to the parking lot outside of Barbarino. Steps lead up—or a ramp for Stroller Boy—and to a sweet little park, then down that narrow street of the pretty village. BW and I see a shop—closed by this time—lovely little Tiffany style lamps I have no idea where I’d put, but just so lovely. And a little accordion. All sorts of things stuffed into the shop.

We must go back when it’s open.

A little shady respite. Photo by j a-b.

The restaurant Mr. Google told us opened at six doesn’t serve until seven-thirty, but the next one down—where we’ve gotten take-out—welcomes us in. And back to a patio with a beautiful view. Umbrella must be adjusted for shade as the sun is blazing.

Under the Tuscan Sun (Could NOT resist). Photo by BW.

Our server has about as much English as we do Italian, but we manage to order water and wine. The menu’s a little bit of a struggle as we have our vegetarian and our allergic to meat and shellfish diners. The good part is there are numbers representing allergies beside every dish.

Mine’s easy: Spaghetti a pomodoro.

Nora’s plate. Photo by Nora.

Before our mains, another server brings out a round of bread, sort of like a small, sauce-free pizza, with a dish of what turns out to be vodka red sauce. It’s pretty wonderful. So is my pasta. Griffin’s fries must’ve been as well as he sure enjoyed them.

Appetizer! Photo by Nora.
Griffin’s plate. Photo by Nora.

It’s a really nice meal, and we have the whole patio to ourselves throughout. So how about some cappuccino and some dolci? I say yes.

Kat and Kayla learn BW can make cappuccino on the coffee maker at the villa. This brings joy.

Capuccino. Photo by j a-b.

Complimentary limocello, and it’s wow.

The walk back is welcome after that meal, and the view from the park is great.

Stone house, open air roof. Photo by j a-b
A longer shot. Photo by Nora.
Sun lowering over carpark. Photo by j a-b.
Stone ducks in sunshine. Photo by j a-b.
Keeping watch. Photo by Kayla.
Breezy family shot, Photo by j a-b.
A shadier shot. Photo by BW.

Back home and it’s sunset time. Then pj time for me and Mario time for all. While the games rage, Griffin decides it’s chase Nana time—with his lawnmower. Around and around we go, from game room—jump—to sitting room and back around—jump to game room. At the finish line I’m instructed to go again—the lawnmower’s on my heels.

A boy and his mower. Photo by BW.

A wheel comes off. Nana fixes.

Jason attempts to tag me out as BW takes over his controls. But Griffin’s declares a three-person chase. Then does his pretend fall routine. Oh No! I help him up. When I pretend to fall, he helps me up. I think we’re both doing the pretend fall routine as we need to catch our breath.

Jason comes up with a run around Nana game, and Nana’s grateful for the reprieve.

I step outside, and GOD, the sky! That rose line bleeding at the horizon, a spreading canvas of indigo above with a perfectly carved crescent moon sailing on it. I have to get my tablet.

The grand finale of the day. Photo by

Everyone comes out. It’s the first we’ve seen the moon—Griffin’s a fan of the moon—as it’s waxing. And the thumbnail of white just hangs over the hills for us to admire. Griffin and Kayla have conversations. Griffin’s completely smitten with Kayla and often gives her heart eyes. It’s adorable.

A slice of La Luna. Photo by Kayla.

Couldn’t ask for a more perfect end to a really good day.

This morning a mist hangs over the valley, and as I sit it spreads and rises until the world’s a white cloud. I can hear Chain Saw Man down there and wonder how he can see what he’s doing.

Gradually, mists roll back a bit until the eastern hills look like they’re floating in a white sea. Minute by minute the valley peeks through—hints of green and gold—and blurs of blue show in the sky.

Chain Saw Man is VERY busy this morning. Sawing, hammering. Without the mist to muffle it, the sound’s clear again.

I hear someone stirring in the house, so it must be work out time for me.

Nora

Tuscany – Day 16

The gang has plans, and they fill me in when I’m done working out. A trip to the village of Certaldo—about twenty minutes away—and a ride up a funicular to the 13th century Etruscan-era town high on the hillside. The funicular portion  makes me hesitate. Just how high is it—and is walking an option?

Walking is, though it’d be hot and steep—and the ride, I’m assured is only a couple of minutes.

Okay then, we’ll give that a try.

The drive’s nice. The opposite way from where we came in, so new views of vineyards climbing and hills doing their rise and fall. We squeeze through what we’re calling the ghost town. Lots of buildings, no people and wind and turn our way—our two-car caravan—to Certaldo and a car park.

Funicular view. Photo by BW.

After a bit of time, we reason out the pay box, opt for the 8 Euro full day deal as the hourly rate’s just too complicated for us.

A short walk to the ticket office and the funicular—mask up, collapse the stroller and pile on the already crowded car.

This is Griffin’s favorite part of the journey. We go up, up, up!! And it really does only take a couple minutes, which is great for Nana as this is NOT her favorite part of the journey.

The view. Photo by BW.

Worth it. Beautiful old buildings with portions of failed stucco revealing old brick. Brick streets so narrow we’re surprised to see a few cars. But people live here, work here at the restaurants, the museums—and yippee!—the gelato place.

I love the pots of flowers hung right on the brick like art or in window boxes—and more pushing their way to the sun right out of the brick street. It’s steep, and obviously chosen for defense rather than convenience.

Flowers in available space. Photo by BW.

The palazzo museum—our goal—isn’t open yet, so why not lunch? We choose a sweet little place with tables right on the skinny sidewalk. And on a steep slope.

Lunch in Certaldo. Photo by BW.

Our server’s young, pretty and speaks excellent English. It’s a fine way to while away the time for the opening hour, cool off a bit—it’s very hot again—and sit under half umbrellas—they butt right up against the side of the building—with a solid blue summer sky above.

Refreshment. Photo by BW.

People climb by as we eat, most with kids—so likely tourists like us—or with dogs—maybe locals.

Lunch. Photo by j a-b.

There are big, old wooden doors, most with intricate detailing, more flowers pushing their way under red tile roofs. And quiet.

Who’s there? Photo by Kat.
Detail of door. Photo by Nora.

When we finish, our server asks where we’re from, and we learn she’s from right there. It’s quiet, we say, and she agrees. Yes, quiet, and boring.

And I expect it is for a young woman, as life is likely that quiet and work most of the time.

Kayla and Nora in Certaldo. Photo by BW.

On we go to the palazzo with its clock tower and flairs. Inside it’s lovely and fascinating with frescos, painted ceilings, steep steps, a dungeon!—A small dungeon that must’ve been very depressing. The governor’s private chapel, with saintly frescos. 

Photo by j a-b.

There’s a screen with a video on a loop of a festival in Certaldo, and it looks like a crazy, fun time. I hope our pretty server enjoys that when it comes around.

Family pano. Photo by j a-b and company.

There’s a garden courtyard outside, and we set up a group panorama, and climb some skinny, steep stairs to what might’ve been a battlement. Wonderful views, and no hint of invading forces.

Palazzo Pretorio. Photo by Kalya.
Palazzo Pretorio in Certaldo. Photo by Nora.

More steps up to an art gallery, and down into an echoing little church with a tabernacle, frescos—one of which Jason dubs Bluebeard, because he has one.

Incredulita San Tommaso by Pier Francesco Fiorentino with onlookers. Photo by BW’s phone.

Our time there turned into pretty much a private tour, which made it only more enjoyable. quiet is definitely the word of the day.

Art by Giampaolo Talani – a local artist. Photo by BW.
Another by Giampaolo Talani – who put himself in a lot of his art. Photo by BW.

Out we go and down the steep brick street for a stop for gelato. Kayla opts for the cola-flavored Italian ice and Jason for a tropical-flavored—which he says tastes like it looks.

Mail call! Photo by BW.

Blue.

Well. Photo by BW.
Well as planter. Photo by Kayla.

We finish our treats before we go in to wait for our ride down. Much less crowded on the return trip, just us and a family with two little girls. Griffin also enjoys the down part, and gives the girls the eye (sort of like a teenage boy might eye a couple of pretty teenage girls, pretending he’s NOT looking).

Afternoon view. Photo by BW.

We drive back—and the boy falls asleep in the car. Kat sits with him as he takes his well-earned nap.

Kayla’s back at Mario, and chalks up a thirteen #1 winning streak on her races. When Griffin wakes, Jason and Kat join her for some competition.

We’ve decided on Pop’s Pancakes for dinner. This is my father’s recipe, handed down generations. We believe we have everything necessary to make this happen, as it was on the potential menu for awhile.

I discover my gang has picked up condensed rather than evaporated milk —it calls for both regular and evaporated. Hmm. Kat googles, and finds I can use about half the condensed and add more regular to substitute.

There are no measuring cups or spoons in this kitchen. One big measuring pitcher, so eyeballing is required for the dry ingredients. And that’s when we discover the box of baking powder we’d previously seen in the pantry does not contain baking powder packets (how it comes here) but pretty little drink umbrellas. Who would hide drink umbrellas in a baking powder box? We are displeased with them.

And this is a problem.

Once again, Jason comes to the rescue by driving to the grocery store (which isn’t around the corner).

Meanwhile Kat preps strawberries, blueberries, makes bacon.

We find a big enough pan—I’d normally use a griddle—for cooking the pancakes.

Jason returns, and we estimate 3 heaping teaspoons as about one and a third packet. Here’s hoping.

Heat the pan, ladle in the batter—I can do three at a time if I’m careful with the flip. I make strawberry, blueberry and plain.

We have the butter and syrup to go with them. Kat makes me a pretty little fruit bowl of strawberries and apricots, and a little bacon sandwich since I’m not a big pancake eater (sorry, Pop!)

They are a success!! I think Kayla ate three—don’t know where she puts it. And if we make them again, we’re better prepared.

Another glorious sunset to cap off dinner.

Sunset study by Jason.

During clean-up, the kitchen island becomes a race track for Griffin. I get a car and join. Kayla sits at the island and becomes part of the course. Jason and Kat time the laps to avoid crashing the drivers while they do the dishes.

Then Kayla begins to call the race, which is thrilling for the boy. The police car wins!

Again, the boy says, and we’re off.

Grandda joins about the time Griffin’s decides both his cars should fall off the cliff on each lap. Oh no! Try again, and hilarity. More hilarity when Grandda takes the red car and drives it off the cliff. Now it’s screaming hilarity. Again and again.

Our boy is pretty easily amused.

It’s beyond bedtime, so Kayla gives the one-more-lap warning. He draws that one out, gives a subtle attempt at another. But when Mom and Dad scoop him up, he retires from the field gracefully.

I take my last glass of wine outside to enjoy the gorgeous night, then also retire from the field.

A pretty morning, and Chain Saw Man’s building something down there. I think I see a small structure in the trees, but it’s too far away to be sure. But the sound of building carries up.

Work out time approaches. I’m going to see if anyone else is up and about.

Nora

Oleander. Photo by Nora.

Really nothing much

Winter queen Nora as fashioned by the fabulous Turn the Page Staff. The real Nora is staying home.

I haven’t blogged in awhile mostly because I’ve had my nose to the grindstone both professionally and domestically. So it’s pretty much boring, as in:

Get up, go to work. Check the news on the world maybe. Realize the news in the world sucks a lot. Go back to work. Finish work, go work out. Sweat is good!

Talk to BW. Perhaps have a drink with BW because I’ve had a righteous day. Eat. Sign books or do galleys if necessary. Watch something on TV as brain is very tired. So is body. Go to bed.

Get up, repeat.

On weekends, continue the full house purge–no excuses!–until it’s finally, finally, FINALLY complete. Bake bread, make soup or whatever. Shovel out the rest of the house.

Oh, a couple of dentist appointments in there. My teeth are my bane.
A couple of family dinners–with at least some on the menu geared toward our vegetarian.

Oh, a nice visit from same over a weekend when she stayed with us. Movies, on-line shopping for (gulp!) a graduation dress. And it’s so pretty on her, too! Help with purging is always welcome. Much happy conversation about college. When Kayla leaves the end of August, I’ll miss that girl like a limb.

Kayla visited her college a couple of weeks ago. She’ll be able to visit Nana in the library!

A delightful family Sunday including the constantly happy Griffin. He definitely likes Nana’s spaghetti. I don’t know if Laura can grab the shot of him off FB–I have no clue how to–but it’s classic.

Guess what? Laura knew how. Classic.

Work, more work–my favorite routine is sticking well over this period. I love getting solid, uninterrupted writing days, then sweating it off, getting my house in order and spending time in the kitchen on weekends. It’s my perfect balance.

Tomorrow I plan to go out into the world (or at least Boonsboro) for the first time–excluding the dentist–since . . . jeez, I think the February signing. I believe that’s correct.

The inn’s having an art show with one of my very favorite artists, Claire Hardy. Since I’ve just redone our bedroom I believe I have a spot for a new painting.

Flowers by Claire Hardy.

Then, my hope is to continue to basic and boring right up to the girl spa in April.

Then spring happens. I’ll be ready for it!

Nora

Winter Routine

I’m finally into it!

I’m no Scrooge, so I love the holidays. I even–mostly–love all the work and prep that goes with them. The other night, I watched Bad Mom’s Christmas (laughing like a loon)–and it’s true, Christmas is the Super Bowl for moms–and nanas. But with that very merrily done, our annual New Year’s Open House happily done, we took our traditional January break at the spa.

This one turned into a work/spa deal for me, but that was all good. A morning workout, a few hours of work, a lovely massage, then family and friends to spend the evening with. A good kick off to a year for me.

But now, ahhh, winter routine.

After a solid writing week–another ahhh–I spent my Saturday as I like to spend January Saturdays. Even better, Bruce and Jason (after a considerable effort and tech know-how) set me up with a mirroring tablet in the gym. Now I can mirror, stream, whatever it is a boatload of workouts onto the big screen. So my day starts with some new to me routines–a good way to fool the mind and body that they’re having fun.

I’m a fan of the Beach Body gang, even though some of the trainers are sadists. Sometimes it takes a good sadist to whip you through a workout.

Prepped and ready to simmer. Photo by Nora

With that done–whew–it’s kitchen time. I promised BW a pot roast–makes him happy. Mine simmers for hours in a full bottle of red wine. Who wouldn’t be happy? With the potatoes and carrots pealed, onions and celery sliced, that big hunk ‘o meat simmers drunkenly while I shove up my sleeves and head up to the third floor.

It’s purge and organize time, another winter routine.

I hit the One More Room first because eek! This is where a lot of the holiday magic happens–the storing, the wrapping, the bagging and tagging. It’s also where we store bowls and platters and so on used primarily when entertaining.

OMG! Photo by Nora.

It needs help.

A couple hours later, voila! Magic. It looks like an actual adult lives here. 

Ta-Da! Photo by Nora

Move onto my closet. More purging. Be tough, Nora! You can do this. Maybe once or twice I pulled something out, waffled and put it back, but for the most part, I AM tough. And since post-signing next Saturday pals are coming over to go through all I purged here, they’ll be glad I was tough.

My closet now looks like a fairly sensible woman lives here. A woman who really, really, REALLY loves shoes and boots, but is reasonable.

Shooooes. Photo by Nora.

My office next, and there I’m very pleased that due to several years of very strict purges, it doesn’t take very long.

Adult work station. Sort of. Photo by Nora.

A top floor sweep in one day. Happy dance!

It gives my time to cull through my scarves–another big love–while the pot roast finishes off. Boy it smells good in here.

Yum. Photo by Nora.

Some well earned bubbly, which should, imo, be part of any routine, then pot roast.

Day’s done–but oops, four tubs of books waiting to be signed. Okay, this calls for more bubbly. And now, the day’s done. A very satisfying winter Saturday.

Today, more of the same, that’s routine, after all. It’s about time for that workout, then I’ll pick the next room, maybe rooms, to tackle. Plenty of leftovers, so no dinner to cook.

And tomorrow, it’s back to the book and the hope for another solid week of writing.

For somebody who doesn’t like the cold, can do without the bitter winds and snowy drives anywhere, indoor routines keep winter happy.

Nora

Cranky Publicist addition:  Nora wrote a post called The Road to Discovery in Feb 2016 in which she said, I cook pretty much as I write, which is why I not only don’t but can’t answer the calls for recipes after I post a blog on cooking. Please, please, don’t ask me!”

May I suggest the joys of Google for recipes?  BTW, I just found one for crock pot beef stew cooked in coffee .  Must go make!

Sunday in New York

We arrive on Tues, to summer in October weather. After unpacking, our initial group—me, BW, Jason, Laura—hit the streets and the shops. I have an agenda every October trip, and that’s to get as close as possible to finishing my Christmas shopping as I can.

Get a good start on that agenda before it’s time for drinks, and a room service night.

Up early Wednesday, get a good workout in. BW and Laura, too. We’re having an Employee Fitness Challenge through our Fit In BoonsBoro back home. Fun stuff! BW and Laura get points walking a mile together. More shopping, more checks on that Christmas list. Jason and I have our own little FitBit competition, and while he’s usually 20-30k steps ahead of me, when we travel, I catch up. And hah, am am now in the lead.

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Lunch at a favorite pub, more shopping, and back home here where BW and Laura do their daily workout challenges together. Hysterical wall-sits (with alcohol) push-ups (and Laura’s wearing a dress for this one) squats, lunges. I get to watch as I did all that much earlier in the day.

Dinner’s a pleasant walk, then pizza.

Fall colors on the Helmsley Building. Photo by Laura

Laura’s husband’s coming up, so she moves out of our space and into her own. We have a girl shopping annual tradition with my agent and editor. Kat usually joins us, but she has stuff so won’t be up until late Thursday afternoon.

Where’s Nora? I posed for this one — was having great fun. Photo by Laura

Would you wear these? Photo by Laura

So good to see my NY pals—and my editor brings the finished cover for Year One. OMG!! It’s just fabulous.

More shopping, a fun, light lunch when the guys join us. Then a little more shopping. I am hitting my agenda, and hitting it hard!

Back to the hotel as we have an early dinner—and here’s Kat!! We’re eating early because we’re going to see Bette Midler in Hello, Dolly. The Divine Miss M. Bette. I’m thrilled at the idea of seeing one of my icons on stage.

We walk to the restaurant—just gorgeous weather—have a wonderful meal, then walk to the theater. I’m not surprised the performance is sold out. It’s Bette.

As much as I anticipated this, the reality exceeded. Aside from Bette (for the moment) the costumes, the lighting, the choreography, the chemistry, the voices, the whole works is just stupendous.

Now add Bette. And stupendous doesn’t cover it. When she first walks on stage, the house explodes. She’s tiny and glorious, and obviously having the time of her life. In turn she gives us the time of ours. Then there’s David Hyde Pierce, whom I adore. I’ve seen him on stage before, and he’s just as marvelous this time around.

The Hello Dolly number brings the house to its feet. The applause goes on and on for her solos. This is what’s meant by bringing down the house.

I’ve seen a lot of wonderful, memorable, fabulous shows on Broadway. Nothing beats this.

Playbills. Photo by Laura

Just wow.

Friday—after workout—Kat, Laura and I head out. Girl time, and more good shopping.

Stunners for Kat. Photo by Laura

Laura’s guy is off with some of his NY pals, BW’s having lunch with a couple of his, and Jason’s doing the same. Laura peels off so Kat and I walk downtown to meet our men for the new Blade Runner movie in IMAX.

Cool! Intense! Fun!

The long walk back, and room service. Laura and her guy have dinner and a show on their schedule.

Kat has to leave early Saturday morning so I say bye to my girl, get in my workout (still in the FitBit lead!). Jason has an errand, Laura and her guy have brunch with their daughter (Clare works in NY). BW’s arranged a photo shoot with a model in our triplex.

I have some specific type items on my agenda—and need to pick up the new glasses I got after my eye exam here on Wednesday. I promise to check my phone often so I can hook up with Jason and Laura.

On the street I see a gorgeous young woman wearing a man’s white dress shirt—mid-thigh—over-the-knee gray suede stiletto boots, a beret and big sunglasses. She looks amazing.

Jason’s errand’s done quick, so we text back and forth until we meet on the street. And he becomes my Sherpa. Head to hotel to dump bags, text Laura. Her guy’s meeting some of his old classmates, so she and Clare will hang with us while Jason and I have lunch.

Back to our favorite pub.

Clare heads off, and we head to The Gap—Laura and I both have specific wants here, and pretty much satisfy them. Then there’s the UGG store. I wasn’t looking for myself there—Kayla likes the classic tall UGGS—but found a pair of boots I couldn’t live without.

Annual photo of St. Pat’s. Photo by Laura

Oh, and sneakers in a deep orchid color—so light, so comfortable!

When we get back, BW’s about finished with his shoot, so we rest our busy feet and have a drink. We’re walking over to 9th for Italian for dinner. (Laura’s dh is having a fine time with his classmates.)

Long walk, but this weather! Good wine, great food, fun companions, and good service.

We meet up with Laura’s Mark after dinner, hang out in our suite awhile. I want to watch SNL, but conk.

Up early today, solid, cross-training workout. Then rest of our group is off to the Jets game (Laura and Mark are major Jets fans.) I bid them goodbye, clean myself up, and decide to walk uptown to Bloomie’s to hit that agenda again.

Do just fine, walk back, hit another shop. The housekeeper’s still dealing with our space when I get back. I see her once or twice a year, so we chat a little.

I show her a picture of Kayla on FB—who had her FIRST DATE last night. Homecoming. Oh, so beautiful, my girl. And she’s going with Handsome Henry. The housekeeper and I talk about how she’s just so grown up.

It’s lovely to come back to this same place year after year, because it adds such comfort to know the people who work here. I tell her I’ll see her in June when Kayla has her NY trip (just weeks before her SIXTEENTH!!!! Birthday).

Now on this Sunday in NY, I’ll finish this blog, which Laura will post after they get back. I hope the Jets are kicking it (not a football girl myself). I’m going to pour a drink, get my book and kick back instead of kicking it, for a bit.

We plan to head downtown tomorrow—have pizza, shop. Then we’ll see what we do for our last night in the city.

I love New York, I really do. The things you see, hear, the way it feels and moves. It’s so opposite where I make my home. So it’s nice to spend some time here, knowing my dogs, my quiet, my routine waits for me. 

Nora

Notes from Laura: very sad to report that the Jets lost, but my photo of me and my husband was on the huge scoreboard, so that was fun.

We saw War Paint with Patti LuPone and Christine Ebersole which was marvelous starting with this curtain in front of the stage. We’ll stay an extra day and see Donna Murphy play Dolly on Tuesday night.

Amazing curtain at War Paint. Photo by Laura

Oh and I have some #randomkatness for you:

Randomly, cats. #randomkatness

The mystery of Kat, halfway revealed. Selfie by Kat. #randomkatness

 

Provence, France Day 15

Clouds over Tourrettes taken from villa patio. Photo by BW.

Before and after shots of BW’s Cize experience in yesterday’s blog. He worked it for 40 minutes! He joined me for that session after I did 50 minutes Bootcamp Boogieing with Petra Kolber. *

Back to normal for me and my system.

Jason and Kat head out, for their walk, a trip to the market and the bakery. On return we discuss vital matters such as: is pizza a kind of open-faced sandwich (as well as a pie) as it’s cheese on baked dough with toppings. Maybe.

This discussion launches from the fact Kat and Jason have picked up some lunch meat and what’s billed as sandwich bread. And I had a little conversation with the housekeeper regarding leftover pizza, wherein I remembered the word for lunch, in explaining why we’re keeping it rather than having her take it away.

Oui, bien. Pour le dejeuner!

I work in my shady spot, going back to NYC in my state of mind for a couple hours. And now and again surface enough to hear golfers through the trees.

Our men prepare to leave for their glider experience. And are back in ten minutes or so. Short flight?

Wrong day. LOL. Gliders booked for Friday.

So we settle down to our various pursuits. Some reading, some work, some conversation. Some planning for the last days of our holiday.

Playground near the villa. Photo by BW.

18th tee — just below the villa. Golf with a view. Photo by BW.

Jason’s discovered our foundation has its 17th anniversary on Friday–I think it’s Friday. We’ll have a little celebration, maybe here, maybe back at the open-air restaurant we call The Scrublands as the French name (which I can’t remember) translates to just that. Maybe there’ll be karaoke again!

We clean up, dress up for dinner here at the main restaurant. I leave a little plate of torn up lunch meat for the mama-to-be cat in case she comes by while we’re gone.

BW and I head up first for a drink at the bar. He orders some kind of fancy gin drink, and I go for what’s called a Sparkling Jasmine. Champagne, peach juice and jasmine syrup. 

It’s fascinating to watch a good bartender build a drink–and this one is very good. My favorite part of BW’s build is the graceful swirling of a long thin slice of cucumber onto the top, then dashing just a bit of what the bartender explains is barbecue bitters (from Memphis!) and a carefully placed grind of black pepper. 

Basil Collins made with Hendricks Gin (BW’s caption). Photo by NR with BW’s phone.

BW is pleased with the results.

My drink is absolutely lovely. A blend of gorgeous flavors and so very smooth.

The tender shows us the various bitters they have to work with–and some home-made. Saffron bitters, vanilla bitters, I think caramel. What drink wonders embrace these?

Kat and Jason join us, so it’s out (past the sinful dessert display) to our table. 

Temptation row. Photo by kat.

A closer look at Temptation Row. Photo by BW.

It’s a gorgeous night for eating outdoors, with a bottle of smooth, local red. I should take pictures of the wine bottles, but too late now.

A family group celebrating–we think–a birthday has a table nearby.

The service here is unilaterally friendly and as smooth as the wine. When you add fabulous food, it adds up to a very happy dining experience. Blue skies, warm air, good food, good wine, good company. It doesn’t get better.

King of the rock. Photo by kat.

Tray of petite pains. Photo by j a-b.

Dinner plate. Photo by BW.

Until you add that dessert.

They have what will always be pie-cream-pie for us. It’s very large, so Jason and I split it. Kat feels obliged to order the macaroon dessert (it’s France, after all). It’s pink and pretty–and delicious. BW got some creamy, glossy thing I can’t identify–but again, delicious.

I cannot express the fabulousness of the pie-cream-pie. Which is actually cake-cream-cake with pretty berries. Jason points out that when halved it looks like a crazy, toothy smiling face. When eaten, it brings a tear of joy and gratitude to the eye. Whoever baked this magnificence should rule the world. There would be no war, no sadness, no strife if every meal ended with pie-cream-pie.

Pie-cream-pie? Cake-cream-cake? Doesn’t anyone else see The Cookie Monster’s French cousin (Laura’s comment)? Photo by j a-b.

We wander around after, find a little lounge area and start to take a selfie. The bartender cheerfully comes back, and takes a photo for us. Our night is commemorated.

A group never afraid of color. Photo from j a-b’s phone.

Balls. Photo by kat.

Awww. Photo by kat.

We walk back–I might have rolled.

I check, and the little plate I left for the cat is licked clean. So she, too, had a nice little meal.

Hang out a bit, read a bit, then lights out.

To answer a question from yesterday, I don’t know how long it takes to write the blog every morning. Depends. Some days we’ve done more than other days. I just start, then end when it’s done. And that’s pretty much how I write everything!

Today we’ve all got appointments at the spa. Massages for the gang, and a facial for me. But those are hours away yet. Workout’s coming up. My mood after will determine whether I work on my book or read one. I think a swim should work itself into the day.

Right now it’s cool enough for a light hoodie on the terrace, but that will change as the sun gains strength.

Nora

*Note from Laura — there’s that time/space continuum thing again!

Today’s #randomkatness:

Huge butterfly. Photo by kat.