She liked the roses.
Her luggage went to Cincinnati without her.
But the airline delivered the bags on Wednesday.
She liked the way I had cleaned the RV and shampooed the carpet.
Showing posts with label Venice Italy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Venice Italy. Show all posts
Monday, 28 January 2008
Last Day in Venice
Mrs. Phred arrived safely.
She liked the roses.
Her luggage went to Cincinnati without her.
But the airline delivered the bags on Wednesday.
She liked the way I had cleaned the RV and shampooed the carpet.
She liked the roses.
Her luggage went to Cincinnati without her.
But the airline delivered the bags on Wednesday.
She liked the way I had cleaned the RV and shampooed the carpet.
Sunday, 27 January 2008
Carnevale di Venezia
Venice, Italy
Sometimes I think that Mrs. Phred has the luck of the Irish in visiting foreign places just during major celebrations and events.
Carnevale means "farewell to meat" and arises from the somewhat debauched masked fertility celebrations preceding Lent. The tradition appears to be an answer to Tampa's Gasparilla.
I talked to Mrs. Phred on DSL this morning. She says the Carneval lasts a couple of weeks. People dress up when they please. Some come from out of town. That's so Italian. What wonderful freedoms they take. I'm not sure I've ever seen two Italian toilets that flushed exactly the same way. What lovely people.
Venice Carnival masks fall into several categories:
- Commedia dell'Arte masks are based on traditional characters like Harlequin and Pierrot.
- Fantasy masks are figments of the maskmaker's imagination, although they may be inspired by historical designs.
- Traditional Venetian masks such as the white volto half-mask with nose cover and its variant, the "plague doctor's" mask with its phallic beak. (According to tradition, the beak was intended to protect the wearer from being infected by the plague.
Carneval was an excuse to mingle and, in some cases, to trade sexual favors without fear of recognition or retribution.
Carnevale almost disappeared when Napoleon's troops brought an end to the Venetian Republic in 1797. In 1979, the tradition began a comeback.
Sometimes I think that Mrs. Phred has the luck of the Irish in visiting foreign places just during major celebrations and events.
Carnevale means "farewell to meat" and arises from the somewhat debauched masked fertility celebrations preceding Lent. The tradition appears to be an answer to Tampa's Gasparilla.
I talked to Mrs. Phred on DSL this morning. She says the Carneval lasts a couple of weeks. People dress up when they please. Some come from out of town. That's so Italian. What wonderful freedoms they take. I'm not sure I've ever seen two Italian toilets that flushed exactly the same way. What lovely people.
Venice Carnival masks fall into several categories:
- Commedia dell'Arte masks are based on traditional characters like Harlequin and Pierrot.
- Fantasy masks are figments of the maskmaker's imagination, although they may be inspired by historical designs.
- Traditional Venetian masks such as the white volto half-mask with nose cover and its variant, the "plague doctor's" mask with its phallic beak. (According to tradition, the beak was intended to protect the wearer from being infected by the plague.
Carneval was an excuse to mingle and, in some cases, to trade sexual favors without fear of recognition or retribution.
Carnevale almost disappeared when Napoleon's troops brought an end to the Venetian Republic in 1797. In 1979, the tradition began a comeback.
Friday, 25 January 2008
Gasparilla Looms Large
Tampa, Florida
Mrs. Phred checked in today from Ravenna and Bologna. I'm looking forward to her return. She sends pictures every night.
Mike and Steve are two of the former students that have been closest over the years. Steve has tickets for me for the Gasparilla parade in the morning. Pirates invade Tampa this time every year. The whole town wakes up, starts drinking Saturday morning and arise with a Sunday headache after a day of beads, bacchanal and bare breasts. Meanwhile the pirates invade again...Argh, matey...
Sometimes the lady sheriff’s deputies get pissed off and pepper-spray unruly eight-year olds. That always gets the attention of the press.
I decide to make contact again today and attend the celebration...
I took Polaroid’s of my students in 1978 so that I would know them by the 2nd class meeting. I asked them to complete a 3x5 card. Both Mike and Steve helped us with our old home after Mrs. Phred read all the cards and noticed that they both were union carpenters from Philadelphia. They worked on our house, usually starting work about suppertime when the steaks were on the grill. THey helped with the wooden screens.
Mike came to see me in the 80's with a story about a large coffee can full of white powder in a shipping container from England. He is agitated and tells me about a customs agent was digging though the coffee can white powder with a knife. Mike sniffs the powder and thinks coke. I tell him to call customs and report a suspicious substance. After he does that, his boss is deported to England in handcuffs and Mike gets a no-money-down chance to buy the factory.
Steve has been attending Gasparilla at my house since 1978. Steve is a Vice-President for a major national restaurant chain. Not his first chain. Steve was a student busboy when we first met.
Gasparilla took place about a block from our old house. I always enjoyed painting window screens and talking with passersby rather than going down to the parade. Mrs. Phred is sending me pictures from Ravenna and Bologna in Italy. I questioned her today over DSL and found that the photographer was mostly her sister, Jil. The tomb picture in Ravenna is not Dante, But I will pretend that it is. He’s in there somewhere.
Gasparilla starts tomorrow. The thing about hanging around here in Sarasota is that the weather is great, but there’s not much happening worth a blog. I work every day as a Habitat for Humanity volunteer. I do minimum wage accounting work for my leader, Amy. As a volunteer, they omit the wages and give me coffee.
Mrs. Phred checked in today from Ravenna and Bologna. I'm looking forward to her return. She sends pictures every night.
Mike and Steve are two of the former students that have been closest over the years. Steve has tickets for me for the Gasparilla parade in the morning. Pirates invade Tampa this time every year. The whole town wakes up, starts drinking Saturday morning and arise with a Sunday headache after a day of beads, bacchanal and bare breasts. Meanwhile the pirates invade again...Argh, matey...
Sometimes the lady sheriff’s deputies get pissed off and pepper-spray unruly eight-year olds. That always gets the attention of the press.
I decide to make contact again today and attend the celebration...
I took Polaroid’s of my students in 1978 so that I would know them by the 2nd class meeting. I asked them to complete a 3x5 card. Both Mike and Steve helped us with our old home after Mrs. Phred read all the cards and noticed that they both were union carpenters from Philadelphia. They worked on our house, usually starting work about suppertime when the steaks were on the grill. THey helped with the wooden screens.
Mike came to see me in the 80's with a story about a large coffee can full of white powder in a shipping container from England. He is agitated and tells me about a customs agent was digging though the coffee can white powder with a knife. Mike sniffs the powder and thinks coke. I tell him to call customs and report a suspicious substance. After he does that, his boss is deported to England in handcuffs and Mike gets a no-money-down chance to buy the factory.
Steve has been attending Gasparilla at my house since 1978. Steve is a Vice-President for a major national restaurant chain. Not his first chain. Steve was a student busboy when we first met.
Gasparilla took place about a block from our old house. I always enjoyed painting window screens and talking with passersby rather than going down to the parade. Mrs. Phred is sending me pictures from Ravenna and Bologna in Italy. I questioned her today over DSL and found that the photographer was mostly her sister, Jil. The tomb picture in Ravenna is not Dante, But I will pretend that it is. He’s in there somewhere.
Gasparilla starts tomorrow. The thing about hanging around here in Sarasota is that the weather is great, but there’s not much happening worth a blog. I work every day as a Habitat for Humanity volunteer. I do minimum wage accounting work for my leader, Amy. As a volunteer, they omit the wages and give me coffee.
Saturday, 19 January 2008
Split Picture
Sarasota, Florida/Venice, Italy
It’s been a slow day. I’ve been trying to repair a broken plastic hinge on the refrigerator door. The epoxy I’m using is JB Weld. I’m inspired by the testimonial of a man who saved his company $20,000 by using it to repair a cracked block on a D-8 caterpillar bulldozer. Last time they gave us a new door under warranty. This time I decide to spend $2.13 on epoxy and do it myself.
Mrs. Phred sends me pictures of her lunch. It looks better than what I had today.
There’s a mystery guy in one of the pictures. Probably he’s a gondola driver.
I remember a trip to Venice with Mrs. Phred some years ago. I dress in a sport coat with nice slacks and shoes on the advice of my German friend who says that if I wear jeans in Europe, I will be treated like a GI.
It works. A man with a shiny wooden motorboat spots us as marks and offers us a free ride on a wooden powerboat. We cruise the canals end up in Murano amid the glassblowers where I buy a $500 blown glass vase, which is now in our storage unit.
We leave the glassblowers expecting a ride back. But after I buy the vase, I’m informed that we need to take the water bus back to Venice.
It's raining here tonight. The neighbors have taken down their awnings in anticipation of high winds. The epoxy worked.
This is a three-day weekend. Habitat for Humanity has a holiday on Monday to observe Doctor Martin Luther King Junior day.
Tu sei l'amore della mia vita. Buon divertimento e la fretta indietro.
Buona notte.
It’s been a slow day. I’ve been trying to repair a broken plastic hinge on the refrigerator door. The epoxy I’m using is JB Weld. I’m inspired by the testimonial of a man who saved his company $20,000 by using it to repair a cracked block on a D-8 caterpillar bulldozer. Last time they gave us a new door under warranty. This time I decide to spend $2.13 on epoxy and do it myself.
Mrs. Phred sends me pictures of her lunch. It looks better than what I had today.
There’s a mystery guy in one of the pictures. Probably he’s a gondola driver.
I remember a trip to Venice with Mrs. Phred some years ago. I dress in a sport coat with nice slacks and shoes on the advice of my German friend who says that if I wear jeans in Europe, I will be treated like a GI.
It works. A man with a shiny wooden motorboat spots us as marks and offers us a free ride on a wooden powerboat. We cruise the canals end up in Murano amid the glassblowers where I buy a $500 blown glass vase, which is now in our storage unit.
We leave the glassblowers expecting a ride back. But after I buy the vase, I’m informed that we need to take the water bus back to Venice.
It's raining here tonight. The neighbors have taken down their awnings in anticipation of high winds. The epoxy worked.
This is a three-day weekend. Habitat for Humanity has a holiday on Monday to observe Doctor Martin Luther King Junior day.
Tu sei l'amore della mia vita. Buon divertimento e la fretta indietro.
Buona notte.
Friday, 18 January 2008
On The Road
Venice, Italy
Mrs. Phred landed in Venice about 3am this morning, Eastern Standard Time. This is the first time she’s left me alone when I wasn’t working. She sent some pictures.
I hope to have an agenda put together for our next trip by the time she returns. I’d like to plan where we are going on the eight-month trip that will begin March 2nd, but not when we will be there. Louisiana, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Mexico, Canada, California, Washington, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, New York...
We looked at some homes this year, but decided that if we want to travel eight months and spend four months in a tennis RV resort in Sarasota, a home makes very little sense right now.
The geology of new places is fascinating: lakes, sink holes, hot springs, glaciers, moraines, mountains, rivers, calderas, bayous, fumaroles, beaches, deserts. The wildlife is a bonus: bison, deer, seals, orcas, javelinas, goats, antelope, eagles, bear, moose, wild horses and wild burros...
What really seals it are the people you meet on the road:
- A state park ranger who breeds albino corn snakes for fun and profit.
- A blue-eyed Mormon mechanic who tells you about his mission to Chicago while he drills out a battery cable.
- A fat ugly biker in leathers with a poetry book in his back pocket who tells you about the local National parks.
- An 80 year-old couple with a 40-foot motor home who spend all their time fishing.
- A meth freak who is working on the high steel of Las Vegas’ highest building. He resents the press that the Indians get for being high steel workers.
- A Nevada cop who busts us for not wearing helmets. He is amused by Grandma and Grandpa on the motorcycle and lets us go after serious questioning and a license and registration check.
- A policeman in Mesilla, New Mexico who cruises the ancient square and makes the sign of the cross each time he passes the church.
- Earl, the 86 year old bicyclist, heading to Miami from LA in the south texas desert.
But it’s not just the people or the geography. The history is also interesting. You learn about things like:
- Cochise’s mountain stronghold.
- Poncho Villas last incursion into the US.
- Jefferson’s home.
- The Presidential libraries.
- Where Lee surrendered.
- The Alamo.
- Dealy Plaza in Dallas.
- Billy the Kid’s jailbreak location.
Then there are the works of man:
- The magnificent architecture of Chicago
- The Edmonton mall and indoor water park
- The blown away properties in Mississippi and New Orleans
- A tractor museum on South Dakota Interstate.
- The Route 66 museum in Oklahoma.
- The Very Large Array radio telescopes in New Mexico.
And you can find things to do on the road:
- Hiking
- Kayaking in the ice fields
- Scuba diving
- Fishing for salmon and halibut
- Tennis on municipal courts
- Museums
- A zydeco band in Louisiana
Anyway...that’s the plan...2008 will be another travel year.
Mrs. Phred landed in Venice about 3am this morning, Eastern Standard Time. This is the first time she’s left me alone when I wasn’t working. She sent some pictures.
I hope to have an agenda put together for our next trip by the time she returns. I’d like to plan where we are going on the eight-month trip that will begin March 2nd, but not when we will be there. Louisiana, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Mexico, Canada, California, Washington, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, New York...
We looked at some homes this year, but decided that if we want to travel eight months and spend four months in a tennis RV resort in Sarasota, a home makes very little sense right now.
The geology of new places is fascinating: lakes, sink holes, hot springs, glaciers, moraines, mountains, rivers, calderas, bayous, fumaroles, beaches, deserts. The wildlife is a bonus: bison, deer, seals, orcas, javelinas, goats, antelope, eagles, bear, moose, wild horses and wild burros...
What really seals it are the people you meet on the road:
- A state park ranger who breeds albino corn snakes for fun and profit.
- A blue-eyed Mormon mechanic who tells you about his mission to Chicago while he drills out a battery cable.
- A fat ugly biker in leathers with a poetry book in his back pocket who tells you about the local National parks.
- An 80 year-old couple with a 40-foot motor home who spend all their time fishing.
- A meth freak who is working on the high steel of Las Vegas’ highest building. He resents the press that the Indians get for being high steel workers.
- A Nevada cop who busts us for not wearing helmets. He is amused by Grandma and Grandpa on the motorcycle and lets us go after serious questioning and a license and registration check.
- A policeman in Mesilla, New Mexico who cruises the ancient square and makes the sign of the cross each time he passes the church.
- Earl, the 86 year old bicyclist, heading to Miami from LA in the south texas desert.
But it’s not just the people or the geography. The history is also interesting. You learn about things like:
- Cochise’s mountain stronghold.
- Poncho Villas last incursion into the US.
- Jefferson’s home.
- The Presidential libraries.
- Where Lee surrendered.
- The Alamo.
- Dealy Plaza in Dallas.
- Billy the Kid’s jailbreak location.
Then there are the works of man:
- The magnificent architecture of Chicago
- The Edmonton mall and indoor water park
- The blown away properties in Mississippi and New Orleans
- A tractor museum on South Dakota Interstate.
- The Route 66 museum in Oklahoma.
- The Very Large Array radio telescopes in New Mexico.
And you can find things to do on the road:
- Hiking
- Kayaking in the ice fields
- Scuba diving
- Fishing for salmon and halibut
- Tennis on municipal courts
- Museums
- A zydeco band in Louisiana
Anyway...that’s the plan...2008 will be another travel year.
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