Lady of a Certain Age

Author: lpetnick

  • My Friend Sally

    My Friend Sally

    I met Sally when we were both newcomers to town.  This was many many years ago, before kids.  We had an instant connection, and our families became friends.  My husband even babysat for her small daughter when Sally and John went to the hospital for Margaret’s birth.  (I was large with child at the time).

    We stayed in touch as Sally and her family moved around the country.  John is a scientist and administrator of national repute.  As it often happens, our conversations became fewer and fewer, but when I heard her voice on the telephone, it was as if we had just spoken the day before.

    I don’t think we have spoken in several years.  But the phone rang today as I was browsing the racks at TJMaxx.  It was Sally.  She had read my blog and decided to pick up the phone and call.

    I hid out in housewares and we spoke for a half hour.  Things were just the same, as if we had lunched together last week.  We absolutely promised to keep in frequent touch.  Her eldest daughter and family just moved to Bethesda so we will arrange to meet when I am visiting my daughter in DC.  I can’t wait.

    Friends like Sally don’t come around often.

  • Monday Morning

    Monday Morning

    I am getting over my jet lag and now manage to sleep until 7 or so. It’s Monday morning and I still haven’t restarted delivery of the local paper, so instead of the dubious pleasure of seeing who died over the weekend, I have a book to keep me company over coffee.

    Yesterday was a tough day for my daughter. It was Father’s Day and also would have been her dad’s 69th birthday. Nick was sick for a very long time and he was ready to go. We all knew that, talked about it, but the reality of it still occasionally smacks us in the face.

    Laura and Stu also changed apartments this weekend. Here’s an interesting story. They were to have a significant increase in rent and started looking at apartments in DC. Many, many apartments. Some were too far out, some in “transitional” neighborhoods, some ridiculously expensive. Then Stu happened to notice that an apartment in their current building was listed for rent for $400. less than their current rent. Same apartment but 4 floors higher. Of course he went to the manager and rental agent. Both confirmed the price and said they would have to move to take advantage of the lower rent. This is just crazy!

    So now they have a freshly painted apartment with a new bathroom.

    In any case, I think that Laura’s meltdown was as much about her father as it was about the exhaustion of moving.  She is lucky to have an understanding husband who takes her occasional tears in stride. He, of course, is just lucky to have her!

    It is simply too easy to remain at the kitchen table with my coffee cup and book. Time to rouse myself and get out of the house.  Otherwise my refrigerator calls to me.  Time for a walk.

  • Sorrento and Capri

    Sorrento and Capri

    By the way, the Jetson’s shower was great. There are lights that continually flash with different colors, red, blue, green, white. And there was a full length mirror in the shower…I turned the other way.

    I awoke at nine after sleeping like a log. Great breakfast, sat with a couple from Boston. Across the way there was a couple from Long Island and another from outside London. All were very nice and congenial. I was served a huge cappuccino which had four hearts created in the crema. It was good, but Gail, I like yours better!

    I managed to control myself and had a bit of cheese, fruit, and a croissant. There were freshly made cakes that just spelled doom.

    As I have Luigi booked for several days, I decided to go to Capri today. A short walk to the Villa Communale then a one euro lift ride down to the marina. I purchased a return ticket and managed to get on an earlier boat….they don’t seem to care what time your ticket says, just hop on whichever ferry is at the dock.

    The trip took about a half hour, seeing the coast from the water was beautiful. We pulled in and walked down the pier to a crush of buses and taxis. One of the guests at breakfast suggested I just arrange for a taxi for the day, which I did. Pepino put a cover over the back of the taxi and we were off. The taxis are the size of station wagons with just the front seat under a roof. The rear is wide open with a long bench seat facing forward and folding seats that would hold two more people but they would have to face backwards. Which could be problematic as the roads are winding and vertiginous.

    We wound up the very narrow road to Anacapri. Pepino dropped me off and told me to walk. Which I did. Plenty of other tourists but the farther I walked from the main square, the fewer there were. There were, of course, touristy shops, several with people making the famous sandals in the windows. But the path came out and overlooked the sea. Unbelievable. It was just gorgeous.

    Then he took me down an even narrower road, parked, and sent me down a path bordering the sea (but of course about a mile up). I passed a small heliport where I saw two people boarding a helicopter which then soared off. Russian oligarchs? I came to an excavated area of Roman ruins. I was the only person there. Those Romans really knew the laws of real estate, location, location, location. It was breathtaking.

    We drove up and down and around and over to Marina Piccola which had a small beach, several seaside restaurants, and a divine view over to three enormous rock formations. Very few people.

    And then we went to Capri town. Yikes. Tourists everywhere. Plenty of selfie sticks, which I just don’t get. You could just see from the angles they were taking photos, that the only thing in the photo would be their heads. No drop dead view. What’s the point? Of course the views were beautiful from the main plaza. But all the streets, really alleys, were lined with boutiques and some fabulous hotels. By this time I was ready for a break and stopped at a tiny cafe with tables on the street. It was directly across from Dolce and Gabanna. When I stood at the top of the street and looked down, there were rows of identical white awnings each inscribed with the name of the fabulous shop to be found within. It would make Rodeo Drive weep with shame.

    After a toasted cheese sandwich I met Pepino and we drove back down to the Marina Grande. Even though my ticket back was for 4:00 and it was only 3, I hopped on the 3:15 back to Sorrento.

    I walked along the marina passing several beach clubs and came around a bend to find a tiny public beach. What a treat! There were about 30 preteens having an outing, the girls in bikinis and very self conscious, the boys in both speedos and shorts. A teacher (?) had all the kids attention, they all counted down from ten, in Italian, then they all ran into the sea. The girls stayed with the girls, the boys with the boys. Some things never change! There was little room on the almost sandy beach for anyone else, however there was a young couple, perhaps 18, stretched out and snogging away and being watched by everyone. Ah…young love.

    I took the one Euro lift back up to town and walked by the same courtyard where I saw the wedding yesterday. Another one was taking place! It is a very popular locale. This wedding was also British, more fascinators (why haven’t they caught on in the US of A?) and ugly bridesmaid dresses. This time they were each a different pastel color.

    There was a loud clap of thunder and the streets were suddenly empty. But no rain, and nothing was going to deter me from a gelato at Raki, a highly recommended gelateria. The server recommended lemon, which is THE flavor of Sorrento, so I had it. OMG. It was just an explosion of taste. Luckily the cups are tiny. I will be back. A nice woman in a shop further on told me to get the nut, ricotta,and honey flavor tomorrow.

    I went up to the terrace to read and start this email and a couple I had met at breakfast, Ann and Anthony from Long Beach, NY invited me to take a walk with them, which I did. Of course we ended up finding a wonderful restaurant, Da Gigino, which had an outdoor table waiting for us.

    Ann ordered a baked eggplant appetizer which she shared. It was fabulous. Anthony had octopus served with thinly sliced potatoes. He ate it all. Then we had pasta, cannelloni for me, lasagna for Ann and pasta with seafood for Anthony. It was all wonderful. Anthony ordered a bottle of white wine, and yes, I did have some, served frosty cold and delicious. The prices were incredibly reasonable and Anthony absolutely refused to let me participate. His wife said I would never win that argument as he is an old school Italian gentleman. I hope I can at least take them for gelato before I leave. We strolled on back to the hotel. I probably should have run a marathon.

    Tomorrow I meet Luigi who will take me for a tour of the Amalfi coast. Can’t wait!
    Lynn

  • My first email from Italy

    My first email from Italy

    Time to spread my wings, no more Cambridge for me, but instead a trip to Italy.
    Commuter flight from State College to Philadelphia then a 6 hour layover until the flight to Rome. Luckily I had a pass to the Admirals Club, formerly known as  the USAirways Club. There were seats next to the windows which had wonderful views overlooking the  planes taking off and landing.  Of course the free cappuccinos, cheese, soups and crudités made the wait all the more bearable. As did watching old episodes of The West Wing on Netflix.
    The flight was about half full and the lady at the club changed my seat to a row of four seats which were empty. So I got to stretch out. I think I got about two hours sleep, not bad considering!
    Customs was a joke, just a walk through and a quick stamp of the passport. Then the express train to Roma Termini where I switched my ticket to Sorrento. It took so little time to get to the station that I didn’t want to wait the 2 1/2 hours for the one I had booked at home. It was a fast train, an hour and a few minutes then arrival at Napoli Centrale. As I walked down the platform, I spied a young woman holding a sign with my name on it. She explained that the driver sent by the hotel had been held up in traffic. She got me a quick coffee, drunk standing up at the bar, then the driver found me and off we went. It’s nice to be met.
    Nello was my driver. He had a large Mercedes van and I sat in front with him so I could ask lots of questions. Driving around the square in front of the station was an adventure. Many lanes of traffic, many, many scooters and one light. An ambulance was clanging away trying to get through, but the drivers took the noise as more of a suggestion than a command.
    When we were free of the city, Nello pointed out a high mountain in front of us wreathed in fog. Vesuvius!! I mean it is RIGHT THERE!  He said it has been smoldering and if it blows, there is no where for the population to go. I hope it waits a week.
    As we passed, he pointed to the left, Pompeii. It was surprising that it is so close to the autostrada. For some reason I thought it would be isolated. Around the bend, then the gorgeous expansive view of the Bay of Naples.
    A young man from my B&B met us in the square to take my bags. The center of town is pedestrian only.
    Palazzo Montefusco  is up three flights of stairs. Carla, a delightful stereotypical Italiana met me and showed me my room. It is very modern, with a totally modern bathroom (shower with jets and steam and heat lamps). It’s great, this modern place tucked into an ancient building.
    By this time I was hungry and she sent me to Pizzeria Franco, about a ten minute walk. Very plain, picnic tables, and I was sitting next to a big case loaded with huge prosciuttos. Vegetarians beware. The pizza was delicious, I opted for the classic Margherita. Ate too much. Walked around a bit, came back to PM to regroup a bit, then headed over to the Villa Communale, a park overlooking the bay. At the entrance, there is a famous church where I stopped to look. Lots of multicolored marble. And now there are electric candles only.
    As I left the church, I saw a sign for an art school and turned in this little alley. Well, it went in to what was formerly the cloister of the church (I think) and who knew? There was a wedding taking place!
    The cloister was bordered by ancient arcades and in the middle there was a beautiful large tree, a wellhead with a big planter of flowers over it, and wisteria or  bouganvillia hanging down from the second story. The bride and groom were sitting in front of a table behind which stood an official looking man in a suit with a large tricolor banner bisecting his chest. Next to him, a woman in a purple t-shirt with her jacket tied around her waist. What’s wrong with this picture?
    The bride and groom were listening to a speech from a friend who read pages and pages from a notebook and spouted all the cliches. (Sorry about the spelling, I meant “kleeshays”) they were English or Scottish, the women were wearing fascinators, at least the ones who weren’t bridesmaids (dressed in bright red short ugly dresses) were. Then the bride and groom signed certificates while a harpist played. They were kissed by the officiants, the man actually kissed the brides hand!  I imagine they are eating pasta now.
    I finally got to the park which has an amazing view of the water. Looking straight down is a bit frightening. It’s far. There is a marina with beach clubs built on wooden piers with ladders down to the water. Not much sand. There are restaurants on the piers as well as tiny changing cabins that look like they would belong in Victorian England.
    I wandered back through crowded alleys looking at the amazing amounts of tourist wares available. I went into a shop with all sorts of artisanal foods, and a lovely girl absolutely forced me to try candies and cookies. In the window there was a machine spouting white chocolate and dark chocolate. It was molten and flowing like lava. Do you like the continued Vesuvius imagery?
    Now I am sitting on the terrace and enjoying the evening. I’ll try to stay up until nine. Maybe I’ll try the Jetson’s shower.

  • Hello, World!

    My daughter worries about me.

    Three years after losing my husband (don’t you just love that term…..as if I could walk down the block and find him!) she decided it was time to give a little direction to my life.

    The last few summers I have been able to travel and each time I sent daily emails of my adventures to friends. As well as keeping in touch, it provided me with a journal of the trip. When I returned home, I printed out those emails. My memory isn’t what it used to be, so if I am asked for a recommendation about sightseeing or restaurants, I can flip through my folder and voila!

    My daughter, as well as several friends, urged me to continue these emails. “Turn them into a blog”! Obviously I can’t continually travel, but perhaps there are every day occurrences that deserve observation.

    I live in a small town with a big university. I have wonderful friends and those who have surprised me by being not so wonderful. My children are absolutely perfect, their spouses are wonderful and my grandchildren are gifted.

    My husband was ill for 18 years and I was his caregiver. He was a good guy and certainly didn’t deserve the trials of Job. He loved his children deeply and stayed alive until they were grown. He would have been 69 tomorrow.

    So I’ll give this blogging thing a try. Hopefully it will make me think about my life in a different way. If not, it will at least make my daughter happy.

    Florrie, this one’s for you!