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It was Tuesday, December 7 and we were home, but we were still on Sabbatical. David had yet to go to see Sister Mildred in Beech Grove. This was the last thing he scheduled, before the 60th anniversary celebration at church on the 11th, which was to be our official “back to work” event.
I was going to drive David to Beech Grove, then go to Flower Factory to get a couple of things for the office, then come back home and go to the office in Indy on Wednesday. I would pick David up on my way back home. I thought it would be more fun if Mariruth (my sister went with me) on that very cold Tuesday morning. So David, Mariruth and I climbed into the Vibe and started up 135 North to Beech Grove. We were somewhere between Bean Blossom and Morgantown when we started hearing this consistent, “beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.” We checked all of the gauges, and everything seemed to be fine. So we tried turning off the motor at the stoplight in Morgantown, but the car kept beeping–even when the car was off. Since I was the passenger in the front seat, I stuck my head under the dash, was pushing all the buttons I could, and was trying desperately to find something that would explain this beeping in the driver’s manual. Finally we called the Pontiac dealer, and they had no idea at all what the beeping could be, but he said that the car was “probably fine” and not to worry about it. The only thing we knew was that it got louder when we opened the sunglasses compartment under the gear shift.
I dropped David off at the Monastery, and Mariruth and I went on down to Flower Factory, as we listened to a loud radio to mask the incessant beeping. I hoped that when we were finished shopping, whatever it was that it would have stopped. But, no we came back to the cold car and it was still beeping. We decided on some Mexican food for lunch–and the car was still beeping when we finished. All the way back to Brown County, “beep, beep, beep, beep!”
Before you get to Nashville on Highway 46, you drive through Gnaw Bone (yes, Bean Blossom and Gnaw Bone are real places her in Brown County). Our mechanic’s shop is in Gnaw Bone, so I drove by Dave Spencer’s and asked them to come out and listen….they had no idea what it could be, but they said they would see what they could find. From the waiting room, we could hear them making jokes about a bomb, etc. as they started taking things apart. Pretty soon, I heard someone say–“It’s a metronome.” Someone else said, “I think you use that when you are playing music.” This is not a typical conversation for the guys in a car repair shop, but soon they came out with a small electronic metronome that Alyssa had used during Violin lesson days. It had gotten behind the sunglasses compartment underneath the gear shift. I haven’t seen this thing since before we moved from Westfield (nearly 6 years ago) and the batteries were probably at least 12 years old, but they were strong enough to beep for several hours and cause a good laugh in Spencer’s Automotive and on Sams Hill that night…..I have to wonder what the mechanics had to say when we left….I am sure there was some reference to the “crazy blond!”
Again, I am trying to catch up! It seems that I am in a perpetual state of catching up!
We arrived home late in the evening on November 23, Paul sneaked up behind me and gave me a big hug in the baggage claim terminal–it was good to be home. Good to see our kids. Good to hear English. Good to ride in a car again on familiar roads.
Back on Sams Hill Mariruth (my sister) had a pot of chili and homemade cornbread ready. The wood stove was burning, the fall decorations were out, and the family was full fledged into planning Thanksgiving dinner! We did make the right decision to come home for Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving was a quiet day, with just our “hill family.” We enjoyed our time together and the food was incredible. I got lucky and only had to make pumpkin pie! I spent the weekend decorating for Christmas, and even went to decorate the sanctuary at church with Chisato on Saturday morning–several at church on Sunday wondered how it got done “just like Shelly always does it” when Shelly was supposed to be in Italy!
They say that just before we got back the weather went from hot to cold, and just after Thanksgiving it started to snow. South central Indiana had record snows throughout the month of December, and it was COLD. Our Vibe was parked at the bottom of the hill all month, and our Alero couldn’t get down the hill. So, we shuttled Christmas gifts and lots of groceries up the hill in the Jeep.
Last summer we replaced three very drafty windows in our dining room, then in October (while we were away) we had a new wood stove installed in our living room, and some gas logs installed in our kitchen. Is sure has been nice to have a warm cabin this winter!
We woke up, went for one last pastry at Bar Sensi, and walked down to visit the Basilica one last time (David to the lower one, I to the upper one–I like to visit the Giottos). I notice that in the yard there were workmen setting up a nativity and that they had surrounded the St. Francis on the horse statue with trees that would provide a background for the stable. I would like to have seen this set up, but we only have a short time left in Assisi and life will go on here without us.
Typically we have walked the three miles to the train station, but today with all of our suitcases and bags we decided to hail a cab. The driver asked us where we were from and reacted so happily when we told him the US–he loves American basketball. He even named his son after Michael Jordan. When David paid him the required fee, and gave him a Euro tip, he said, “I love Americans!”
The rain from the night before followed us to Rome, and it was a relatively miserable day. After our arrival at the Termeni Train Station, we schlepped our bags along the wet cobblestone streets to the St. Elizabeth Suiore Convent. This another Rick Steves’ recommendation–he says that it is a slice of heaven in a busy city. He was right. The room was simple, clean and quiet. Our protestant minds struggled with the extra large crucifix hanging over our beds as we slept. But in the dark, we couldn’t see it. I had hoped we could walk to the Vatican so David could see the pieta (Michelangelo), but wasn’t in the mood to get any wetter. So we asked the nuns where to go eat, and through a combination of Polish (similar to Russian) and Italian we figured out a close place to eat! We had both lunch and dinner at the Due Colones–just a block away. We had intended on eating dinner at the same place we ate with the kids in October, but it was several blocks away and it was still raining. We spent our last day in Rome reading the latest John Grisham book while the rain fell on the streets!
A decision was made earlier that day that we would hire a cab for just a few Euro more than taking the train to the airport, and there would be no more schlepping the bags (rain or shine)! The nuns called the cab, and arranged for us to have an early breakfast. After a peaceful night’s sleep, and breakfast in an incredibly beautiful frescoed room, the cab arrived at 7:00 am. We drove around the Colosseum and on to Leonardo da Vinci Airport.
There seemed to be many people who knew each other getting ready to board our plan, and we eventually figured out what was happening. The Pope had appointed new Cardinals the weekend before, and one of these new Cardinals was flying on our flight. As we boarded and walked past several flight attendants huddled in their little cubical, one was giving instructions to address him as “his holiness” at all times. A little extra flight insurance to have a Cardinal on board!
Just a few more posts, and I will be caught up and complete my blogs of our sabbatical journey! Again, thanks for reading.
When we wrote our “plan” that we proposed to the Endowment for this sabbatical, we had chosen an Educational Opportunities tour & cruise (EO is a company we have toured Israel with). This trip concluded at the end of November, so we scheduled our flights home on November 30. After contacting EO to reserve our places on their tour, we learned that they had canceled that tour. We selected one from another company that went to similar places, but it was earlier in the month. We were able to work out our arrangements to break up our time in Assisi in order to accommodate this tour, but we had a week scheduled in Rome at the end of November. Sometime in mid-October, we realized that we would be in Rome the week of Thanksgiving. There was no reason for us to be in Rome for a week, and we knew we would be homesick on Thanksgiving Day. We were able to re-schedule our flights to come home on November 23, just in time for turkey!
So, November 21 was our last day in Assisi. The cold winter rain had settled over the city. We went to church at the Anglican church and enjoyed another Italian dinner, then settled into the apartment to pack our stuff!
My plan was to pack first, assess how much pasta I could pack into the bags, then go out and buy it. So it is dark and rainy when we decide to take another walk in the rainy streets, and get the pasta while we are out.
Now we have lived here for over a month, and had become quite used to the lock and key situation. We had two keys (one on a St. Francis key ring and one that we put on a Nashville, Indiana leather key ring). The door locked automatically when you shut it, so we were very conscious of keeping our keys with us at all times. There was an “advanced” lock that you could engage by using the key in the door as well. Also, when you wanted to engage that advanced lock from the inside, you would put your key into the door on the inside. So, you see, there is a key-hole on the inside as well as the outside.
When we were together I depended on David to lock and unlock the door, though I often carried my key in my pocket or pouch. On this dark and rainy night we were standing by the door, and I asked, “Do you have your key?” We both start fumbling through our pockets with the door open. I discover mine first and while I say, “I have mine,” I start to pull the door shut. Right as I am pulling the door shut, David says, “Wait, don’t shut the door,” but it was too late the motion wasn’t to be stopped–you know how it is–and I wasn’t worried, because I KNEW that I had my key in my pocket! As the door clicked shut, David said that his key was in the lock inside. I dug my key out, and sure enough, it wouldn’t even go into the lock! Have you ever been locked out with the key in hand? We did not have the cell phones, or the numbers of our landlords with us.
Our neighbor, Francesca, was leaning out her window, and we were able to communicate with her what had happened. I took a credit card and started working the lock, and David took off to find Stephano (a local restaurant and hotel owner, who speaks very good English). Soon, Francesca comes down the stairs with an X-ray that she slides in the door. It didn’t work any better than my credit card, it had to bend around a piece of wood to get to the lock mechanism. Pretty soon Stephano and David show up, Stephano has a paper clip that he pokes into the lock. It didn’t work any better than my credit card or the X ray! Francesca leans out the window and tells Stephano that she called the “authorities.” Not sure what authorities she called, but I think it was the fire department. I don’t think a fire department is needed much in a stone city! Pretty soon a big truck pulls up into the Piazza del Commune, and four guys in fireman gear walk up the steps to our place. They kind of laugh at our predicament, as one of them unrolls a large piece of film (much like Francesca’s X-ray film) and he starts working it around the wood trim and in between the doors. The other three watch, smiling. He gets to a certain place, and he motions to one of the other three, who grabs the door handle and starts shaking it as much as a shut door can shake. After a minute or so of fireman 1 wiggling the film and fireman 2 shaking the door–it pops open! They ask us to sign something (I don’t know what), they take our names and the names of our landlords, smile, and shake our hands and were on there way. And so were we! We went down to the store, purchased 3 bags of pasta, and came back to one more night’s sleep in this 800 year old building we have called home for 6 weeks. Thanks to Francesca, Stephano, and the Assisi Fire Department!
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