large, midwestern city

chicago 2008

Treviso, Schlecker, Despar

For some reason, I find Treviso just baffling. I have gotten lost almost every day I’ve been there. I’ll be fine one day, lost the next. Beeline to the library in the morning, and walk in circles that evening. (I swear I hit a wormhole on the way home last night.) How could such a tiny town be so hard to navigate?

Just around the corner from the library is Schlecker. Feels just like a Walgreens, but without the pharmacy, and all the store brands are labeled in German. What pleased me so much about finding this store is not just saving some money on shampoo, but finding — for the first time — actual cat treats. Nando is a lucky cat. Lily’s got some coming, too. (She’s the American ex-pat kitty at Ca’ Giudice.)

(I don’t know why, but “Cat-Stix…mit frischem fleisch” just cracks me up.)

In my new life as a commuter I’ve also discovered the joys of the Despar grocery store in the Treviso train station. Convenience at a rock bottom prices. And they give me change. Cheerfully.  Given these two stores, I wonder if the Americanization of the continent is growing faster than is at first apparent?

to the pigeons: “va a quel paese”

I’ve heard that the city is finally kicking out the birdfood vendors in the piazza. So far they haven’t budged, but recently, though, I saw a couple of men just outside the piazza who were trapping pigeons in nets and cramming them into plastic crates. Thinking this was perhaps part of a concerted eradication process, I asked what’s happening to them. Apparently they’re being sent to Mestre. Can’t tell you why — my follow up question didn’t get me very far so I stopped bothering the nice man doing the cramming. (If it was part of an eradication process, it’s not a concerted one.)

In other news, I was very clever at work today and came this close to finding a letter or poem in the hand of Policreti. (Long story.) I also dealt with the laundry…. Our washing machine has stopped spinning, so my sainted adoptive family let me come over to use theirs. Actually, mamma G. insisted that I come over and drop off my biancheria, which I did…though not without some protestation. I don’t mind mooching electricity and detergent, but just dropping off two huge loads of wash doesn’t feel right! Oh, and while I was over there they helped me call the dogana (again) and then asked me to stay for lunch. God bless mamma and pappa G.!

Nando

Neighbor-kitty Nando comes to visit almost every day, usually by way of the kitchen window.

San Giorgio Maggiore

Today I was at San Giorgio Maggiore — the big church on an island right across from S. Marco — where there’s a library in a former convent. One corridor of the library consists of a huge second story cloister, glassed in, entered from the courtyard by a regal double staircase. Cold day. Bright sun. Absolute quiet punctuated only by periodic bells. As I slowly made my solitary way out, the silence was nudged by the softest possible twittering of three sparrows flying above my head. At first I thought they were trapped, but the enormous stairwell is open. There was something that quiet, and that sunshine, and those three little birds and their gentle, intimate chirping that struck me to the core. Made me want to cry. How? Why? I don’t know, but it was a beautiful moment. (And knowing that pms played a role doesn’t detract from it at all.)

new digs and Goldoni

The big news is that I’ve moved. While there were many plusses to the living situation I arranged over the summer, the minuses won out in the end. Physically, the new place is not so far distant from the old one (am now right behind La Fenice, the opera house), but in every other sense, I am light years away. Will miss the adorable baby and tiny doggie, but otherwise: whew. An enormous kitty — Nando — visits here on a daily basis, traipsing to the kitchen window via adjacent roofs, so my pet fix is covered.

Two nights ago I lucked into tickets to Teatro Goldoni. With another dottoranda I met at the Marciana, I saw Goldoni’s La famiglia del Antiquario (The Antiquarian’s Family). What a treat to actually see a play by Goldoni, about whom I’ve read so much. Even better, I was given the tickets by subscribers who have fabulous, second row seats. I can’t remember the last time I could actually see performers’ faces. And “go me” — I understood the whole show. Not 100%, but still… I’m pretty pleased.