Thankful Anyway

Today is Thanksgiving but not in Italy; at least it’s not a holiday here. I think we’re planning to have onion soup. I miss the food and being with my family and hanging out in the kitchen talking about food; but, I don’t miss being irritated at the pile of people huddled around the TV watching football. Now, don’t get me wrong, I LIKE football, I just don’t like it when it’s an excuse for some people to zone out on the couch while everyone else cooks and cleans up. 
That said, it’s funny that it’s just a regular work day here. I went this morning and bought wood for the woodburning stove we use to heat the house. Something that I never had to know as a Texan: when buying wood choose the pieces that are light for thier size they’re drier and cheaper. After that I went to the grocery store; the’ve just started the Christmas merchandising here. No big bin of turkeys in the meat section, no piles of sweetpotatos and bags of fresh cranberries in the produce section…just business as usual.
I came home, had lunch and then went to work with Matthew on finishing these:
I wonder how many years it will be until no one knows how to do this work in a first-world country? Today I’m thankful for my wonderful family, that I got lucky and found lots of dry wood at the woodyard, that I live in a beautiful house in a beautiful country, and deeply thankful that there are still people around who are willing to buy something that they can’t pick out of a catalogue.
Have a beautiful day full of good food ya’ll!

O Sole Mio…

Today there is sun! Though I saw Monte Rosa full of snow this morning as Matthew and I were driving from Gemonio to Castello Cabiaglio where he’s painting a the living room of an antiques dealer. I was tagging along to finally see the house where Matthew has done quite a bit of work. Amazing, same era as the one we live in (end of 19th beg. 20th cent. here the style is called Liberty). Unlike ours, his is furnished with beautiful stuff of the era or older all in amazing condition. Like ours, his house has a zillion windows facing south that are paned with the glass of the era, full of subtle bubbles and ridges that make a room full of light look like you’re standing underwater. Every shadow rendered aqueous.

The antiquarian has a huge Venetian chandelier from 1780(ish) and a few of the glass bits were broken. Last night, Matthew brought them for me as a present. There is something amazing about holding a piece of hand blown glass that is 250 years old, something that says one shouldn’t throw it away even if it can’t be used for its original purpose. We have plans to make a steel structure gilded with white gold leaf to hold up these two pieces of glass that make the shadow of fire look like water.