28 May 2017, Typical Week with Imperia

I am sure that to those who may read this blog, of whom I am not sure there are any, all you think we do is go on ausfluges (excursions, or outflights in German, as we used to call them, learned from my German speaking trainers 51 years ago). It is true that in this blog I usually insert pix and write about our excursions, and not much about our "normal" service as missionaries, which is generally anything but "normal" or boring.  So I will attempt to give a brief play-by-play of the week, of which I didn't take many pix, other than on Saturday.

We begin most Monday mornings with an office meeting-devotional at 9:00 am, with President and Sorella Allen, the APs, anziani Brooks and DaPonte and the office anziani, Hogan and Wilson. We sing a hymn, have a prayer and a devotional thought by whomever wants to share something, with President Allen concluding.  Then we talk about the week and everyone's planned activities.  This week started our every 6 weeks zone conferences, all attended by the Allens and APs, and the rest of us attending one,  Tuesday it was in Alessandria, Wednesday in Verona and Thursday in Milano, and again more next week, down south and east. When it was our turn on the agenda, we talked about closing apartments and apartments on which we are paying rent but there are no missionaries in, some 12 in all. We need to meet with the landlord of the one in Imperia, some 2.5 hours south of here, on the Mediterranean, by the end of June. The furniture has been moved out, but we need to make sure it is thoroughly clean.  We decided that we could go on Saturday, our p-day, to make sure it is okay, and, we wanted to see the Mediterranean coast anyway.  I spent the rest of Monday paying bills and Sorella Hoopes helping missionaries with their permessi, and, in the evening, we went to the grocery store to buy things so Myrna could make the dessert, fresh apple cake, for the Alessandria zone conference.  We could have gone to any of the conferences, but went to the one in Alessnadria on Tuesday so we would be in the office on Thursday so the office anziani could attend theirs in Milano, which is also our zone.

At zone conference in Alessandria, Anziano Thompson sang a duet with Sorella McHardy.  They did a great job.  He goes home in June, his entire family is coming to get him and I believe we will have a meal with them, at least he asked us to. We have been close to him since we worked in the office with him, and it will be interesting to meet his parents and sisters.

During the APs part of the program they asked the missionaries what makes them happy, the responses were written on the white board.  Here is Anziano DaPonte standing by the board, and you may be able to read the things they said, not all written in the order they said them.  One missionary, seconded by several, said "Sorella Hoopes makes me happy."  She was mentioned even before President Allen. The missionaries really do like her.

This is a pix of the Torino zone, which, for "official" use (I often take the official pix), I crop using Picassa.

This is the Genova zone, the other older senior couple are Miles and Patty Hall, who are a fairly new senior couple and live in Genova.  In speaking with them at this conference we learned they lived in Eugene, Oregon, when we were in Cottage Grove.  He is a dentist, but worked for Selectcare (an insurance company) and I am sure I negotiated our hospital contracts with him, and he remembered me. We talked about people we know in Eugene, etc., which was fun.

On Wednesday, Thursday and most of Friday, we worked in the office, on Thursday by ourselves because the office anziani were at their zone meeting in Milano. On Wed. I payed the quarterly rents for 28 apartments, spending a total of about €78,000 of the "widow's mites."  This process takes about all day and is generally done on or about the 24th of the month.  Every day, 365 days a year,  I also reimburse missionaries for what they spend, like transportation, spending anywhere from €200 to €4000 a day.

On Thursday evening we went to teach my piano student (I am down to only one, who practices), at the Navigli church, starting at 7 pm. We didn't have a key to the church and had to wait for the sorelle to come to let us in, so the lesson started a little late, and after about 10 minutes President Allen called me.  I later wrote this:

MARIA TOLOSA   On Thursday, 25 May, we were at the church at Navigli. I was teaching piano to my “best” student, Samantha Buttoni.  I had a call from President Allen asking us to go to Linate airport to pick up Maria Tolosa, who was a sister missionary until she was released a few weeks ago.  So we left and picked her up.  She was very happy to see us and had been talking to a lady about the Church, getting contact information, when I found her at the airport.  We took her to the Mission home, where President Allen said she could spend the night. They would be returning from a baptism in Lugano.  She wasn’t feeling well, so we got her a wet towel for her forehead, an apple and water, and she laid on the couch and talked with us until the Allens arrived.  We learned that when she was released she flew to Phoenix, Arizona, where her family now lives (they moved from Spain while she was on her mission) and she started working in the Mesa Temple on Friday evenings and Saturday mornings, working with Spanish sessions. I told her about Jean and Dean working there on Saturday, and described them, hoping they can meet each other. She was on her way to Spain to visit family, had a layover in Milano, and apparently there was a problem with the airline (maybe like Amy had in Zurich) and she couldn't fly out until the next day at 4 pm.  She is a wonderful sister, and sort of reminds me of Kristin (looks as well as mannerisms).

On Friday morning, Sorella Hoopes had an appointment at the physical therapy department at the Humanitatas hospital in Rozzano, which is nearby.  We didn't have to wait long for her to be seen by a nice therapist, whose English was very good.  He gave her a set of exercises, of which he drew little pictures, that she does twice a day, for tendonitis in her shoulder. The shots of cortisone and the pain patches (lidocaine) the doctor gave her seem to be working, and she is feeling less pain and has better range of motion.  We worked the rest of the day in the office, and I went to the grocery store in the evening and bought deisel for our car, while Myrna went with Sorella Allen to IKEA and OBI, like Home Depot.

On Saturday morning we left at 7 am and drove down to Imperia, getting there about 10:30. From Google I learned there were historically two cities on either side of the Imperia river, which the dictator, during the second world war, Benito Mussolini, caused should become one city called Imperia.  It is an active seaport and they grow flowers, in greenhouses, for use all over Europe. 

The GPS took us near the street in Imperia that the missionary apartment we are closing is on, but there was no place to park--not uncommon in Italy.  I took this pix from the street above (city is on the side of a hill), where we parked, and had to walk down with our mops and buckets, and bags of cleaning supplies, etc.

This is where we walked to the street below, and you can see how close it is to the Mediterranean Sea. It was a pretty warm day. with little sea breeze to speak of.

The apartment had two bathrooms, which were not really too bad, but needed to be swept and mopped, and the sinks, mirrors, etc. needed cleaning.  However, they had shut off the water, so we improvised. (Water from the toilet tanks, etc.)

Sorella Hoopes does an over-the-top job with everything she does, and with a sore shoulder to boot. (I actually did most of the sweeping, while she cleaned.)  We spent a little over an hour cleaning the apartment, and thought we left it in pretty good shape. We left the keys we brought from the office inside the apartment (we were happy the door locked without them), and hope the Halls (a senior couple who live nearby) can go preside over the closing, and we get our deposit back.

This is looking toward the sea from Imperia.  On our way out of Imperia we looked for some beach area we could explore, but didn't see any that was easy to get to, so we got back on the freeway and stopped in one little town that advertised it had a borgo medievale (medieval area), but we couldn't find it after driving around a little.

By then we were hungry, and a place by the side of the road in another small town had a big sign saying they had a hamburger special for €6.50, and it appeared to be within walking distance of a beach, so we indulged.  The hamburgers were actually pretty good and we enjoyed being the only ones eating at their picnic table on the main street.

From the main street with the hamburger place, we walked down some streets which seemed to lead to the beach, and I asked people we met on the street where the beach was, and they pointed the way to go.

There were a lot of orange trees used perhaps for decoration, I don't know whether the oranges were good to eat or not, most down low had apparently been picked.

We had to wait for a train to pass across the street.  The track parallels the beach.

We found a passageway that said it was free to go to the spiagga (beach.)

There was even a free, changing-bathroom place, but there were also commercial places which rented tables, umbrellas and sun chairs.

And there it was.  There were a few people out swimming. We didn't touch the water to see how warm it was, but it was a pretty hot day, and no breeze to speak of.  This is considered the Italian Riviera.  Actually, the famous French Riviera, with the independent country, Monaco, is not very far away, but is not in our mission.

This is looking in the other direction down the beach. There were many little towns along the sea coast, each with their beaches, etc. However, we saw no empty beaches we could explore, they all had people in developed places.  All of the towns were on the side of mountains, going right down to the sea.

So when we got home on Saturday evening we needed to buy a few things from the store, like milk and cereal (I like museli and Myrna likes a different kind) for the weekend, and Myrna wanted to get some flowers to plant on the balcony, as we did (maybe in April) of last year.  We want our balcony to look inviting for our replacements when they come the end of July.

So we went to our neighborhood OBI, sort of like Home Depot store, to buy plants. They had these wood fired barbecue set-ups outside, in front of the store, for €99, and I have seen people barbecue and bake pizzas, etc., in them. Our next door neighbor has one on his deck, and I can watch them from my window in the office.  They are made of concrete block like things and seem to work okay.

It could have been at Home Depot garden area, and the prices were about the same.

But they did have some interesting varieties we have never seen before. Myrna really liked this variety of rose bush. Looks somewhat German.

And they had these weird flowers.  We went home and Myrna planted what we bought, including geraniums and panzies.

We went to church today as usual, and the meetings were good. Sacrament meeting included several of our missionaries, and one young man, Christiano Baiamonte, who was baptized a year ago, to whom I gave one piano lesson (he couldn't come any more).  He is moving to London, England, on Wednesday to go to acting school. In priesthood class (high priest, with whom the potential anziani meet), he sat next to me and I saw that he didn't have Gospel Library on his phone.  He tried but couldn't download it. After the meetings I asked the APs to help him download it and encouraged him to read from the Book of Mormon every day, which he said he would do  I hope he does well, being anxious that he is living with other young men from acting school that he does not know.

From the pulpit today the bishop announced that a missionary, Sorella LoRusso, broke her leg (actually ankle) in two places yesterday playing soccer, and was in the hospital.

So after church we went with President and Sorella Allen to the hospital, in Milano, not the private one Myrna and I have been to.  This is a public hospital, more like what I thought government hospitals would be like in Italy.  It was very big and confusing to get into.  Here is the main entrance of the orthopedic wing, and the big guy entering is Brother Darco, the former Catholic priest who spoke at our apartment a few weeks ago at a high priest social.

Unlike what I thought Italian public hospitals would have in their entry lobbies, this one had a small bank branch office of Intesa SanPaolo, the same bank we use.

The large waiting room on the ground floor was closed, it was a Sunday.

Sorella LoRusso was in a wheelchair in a very small visiting room, and it was very hot in there.  There seemed to be no air conditioning in that large hospital. Many more people, from church, were coming to visit her, so we moved her into the hallway (which had signs that said keep equipment out of the hall, just like ours in Soda Springs, but didn't mention patients).

The bishop's daughter took this pix, with my cell phone camera, of all the missionaries who came to visit Sorella LaRusso.  She had a cast and did not seem to be in any pain.  Her companion stays with her during the day, but goes to stay with the other sister missionaries at night.

President Allen and a few of us went to find a nursing station to ask her prognosis and what would happen to her.  We waited quite a while for the nurse to finish what he was doing (talking to a patient), and said that we would know more tomorrow after 11 am when the doctor sees her.  Sorella LoRusso said she thinks she heard that she may be operated on, in that hospital, on Thursday, we will see.

While waiting, I took this pix of the hallway where the patient rooms are located.  I walked down it to the end, but did not take a pix, as all the patient rooms had four beds down one side of the wall, each with a small TV on the opposite wall, and every bed was full. It was warm, the patients were mostly unclothed, using their sheets for privacy (some apparently didn't care about privacy).  There were no cubicle curtains I could see. There was a large bathroom down the hall, where, while we were there, Sorella LoRusso went to brush her teeth.  I saw an ice machine in one supply room, but it appeared to be broken, as it did not have any ice in it. Italians generally do not like ice, and I saw no sign of ice in the physical therapy place we visited on Friday. Interesting.

I did snap this pix of a sign on the wall in the hospital, about religious services.  It says, the chaplain, Don (the usual title for a parish priest) Renato, as normal, is present every day and upon request will do confessions, communion and annointings of the sick, by calling (an internal number).  The Chapel is reachable using elevator No II, touch Monoblocco B, first floor, with the hours of the holy mass listed.  As can be seen, the name of this facility is the Hospital Agency, Orthopedic Institute of Gaetano Pini (also located on a street named for him).  I don't know who he is.

As we were leaving the hospital, I snapped this pix of the front of it.  We parked in a public parking garage, which charged €6.40 for the hour or so we were there.

When we got back to the mission office we learned that two big missionaries were coming into the office, arriving about 9 pm, and they hadn't had anything to eat since 2 pm, when they got on the train.  The office anziani, with whom they were staying, said they didn't have any food in their apartment.  So we went up and microwaved some sugo I made and froze, cooked up some pasta, Myrna made a quick pan of microwave brownies and we found a new container of gelato (chocolate and panna) in our freezer, and we fed all four missionaries. For our dinner a couple of hours earlier, I had made a pasta with ham and cream for Myrna, trying to duplicate what she ate earlier in the week at a restaurant, and spaghetti alla carbonara for me, on which I am still practicing my cooking technique (so it doesn't look like scrambled eggs--it is supposed to be a cheesy egg sauce with bacon). So that was the week, until about 10:00 pm,when Myrna did her 20 minutes of exercises, while I played a Hauptwerk organ, and then we read from the D&C to each other, as we do every night before we go to bed about 10:42 pm. So, there you have it, a play-by-play of the week, but I am sure I forgot something interesting.  

Ciao for now.




 

21 May 2017, New Mascioni organ in Switzerland

The next few pix are background for those that follow.  On 24 March 2017, we went with the Salatini to visit the Mascioni organ workshop, north of Varese near the Swiss border.  (That is a separate post dated 24 March.)

We saw this new organ console being constructed.

According to detailed work plans

And we saw this free standing wooden organ case being finished for that console
Into which they were installing the large wooden pedal pipes.

In the pipe shop the master pipe maker was finely adjusting the metal pipes, pipe by pipe.  We watched and listened to him.

He had to carefully shave off a little from the ends of some pipes, made of a mix of tin and lead, to bring the pipe into perfect pitch, according to the "standard" rank at the back of the tuning chest.
Then the organ was fully assembled in the workshop and played, to make sure everything worked as it should. It's construction began during August 2016 and finished in April 2017, an 8 month project, although they were building other organs at the same time.  Then, during April,  it was taken to its final home in Switzerland, where it took several weeks to install and finally adjust it for the acoustics of the church, for which it had been custom built.  This was all paid for by one member of the congregation. It cost him about €150,000 euros, or about $168,000 US dollars.

Yesterday (22 May), Sunday, after church, we drove, 1.5 hours, with the Salatini, to a little town near Belinzona, Switzerland (where we saw the three castles a few months ago) to this little parish church, where, as I read on the organ builder's website, they were having the first recital on the newly installed organ.

The relatively small church was full-to-the-brim when we got there 15 minutes early and we were lucky to find a seat at the back, beneath the organ (the sound of the pipes was projected into the church, and we were under the organ, so we essentially heard the bounce back sound--but still beautiful.) We actually got there an hour early, but the others wanted to walk around the lake, which we did.  It reminded me of lakes in the Grand Tetons.
 
The easily moveable console (same as pix above, being built) was located in the middle of the church, quite a way from the pipes.  It is a small (only 10 rank) electric action pipe organ, but with lots of sophisticated pistons (under the keys) to make it easy to change stops and easier to play.  It also has an expression pedal for the swell manual, so the sound can be made much quieter.

In this pix, of the back of the church, you can see the pipe work, essentially the organ, with Myrna still sitting where we ended up sitting.  This is a small, but very beautifully sounding, pipe organ, about the size of organs that our church has bought for some stake centers, e.g., Kevin's in San Antonio, that I have played.  However, it sounds much better than any I have ever played or heard in the US.  Of course, the acoustics of this church are better than LDS churches, with their carpets and padded benches, etc., that soak up sound.  This organ would work really well for an LDS stake center, it could play wonderful soft preludes, and be fun to accompany the congregation with more full sounding stops, and is no more complicated to play than the new Allen or Rodgers organs they are installing.

The organist they brought in for the concert plays professionally in the Vatican in Rome and has made commercial CDs, (Sort of like inviting a Tabernacle Organist to play a dedication recital on your organ, which they actually did when the pipe organ in our stake center in Eugene, Oregon, was built, when we lived there in the 1980's.)  He played a very diverse program to show off everything the organ could do, and it was amazing.  His program was 1.5 hours long, but he played several encores, which were greatly appreciated.  Even the parish priest, who thanked him at the end, said his hands were sore from clapping.

After the concert, everyone was invited across the street to the place where the boy scouts, sponsored by the parish church, meet.

The sign on the fairly new building says its the Scout Section for Tenero (name of the village) and Gordola, another little village.  To the right, on the side of the building, it says it is an opera (work) of San Giovanni Bosco, who was an Italian Saint from the 1800s, known for befriending youth.  Within the basketball area, they had already set out a wonderful offering of "light refreshments," the priest called them.

There were lots of tasty finger foods, and, of course, in Switzerland, local cheeses.
And local wines, and, also, for those who don't drink, both natural and frizzante (sparkling) mineral water, as well as fresh orange juice

Myrna held onto my music, which I had printed out and brought so I could follow along as the organist played the pieces (I knew from the website what he was gong to play), while I spoke with the organ builder and the organist.  I did not personally thank the man, about my age, who donated the organ, but he was there.  I don't know who paid for the reception, maybe the organ builder, but from his profit from selling the organ.  He is a very nice man, as we have come to know.

On the way back home, out the passenger side window, I snapped this pix, which shows the lake in the background, and also a palm tree. They have palm trees in Switzerland, even though it snows there.

This next snap shows a sailboat on the lake, and more palm trees.

In the valley they are growing veggies, some under the protective cover of plastic.

We crossed a river, coming from the mountains, feeding the lake.

We followed a Swiss family, out for a Sunday afternoon drive, probably to ride their bikes.

The fields were all planted and we saw a pathway going up the steep hillside (we debated whether it was a waterway or pathway, but we could see the steps).

This was taken out the window, as Anziano Salitano was driving, near where we got back on the freeway.  We saw, in the sky, a glider, like they have at the Point of the Mountain near Lehi, Utah.  To the right are the lines for the electric train. I wonder what would happen if he landed in the electric lines, a fried Swiss?.

I took several videos, with sound, during the organ concert, showing the church, organist, etc. I wish I knew how to attach videos to this blog.  They turned out well, and the organ sounds great, even on a small camera at the back of the church.  Maybe someday I'll figure out how to attach videos.

I also saw, on the website, that they are dedicating another new Mascioni pipe organ next Sunday afternoon, but it is near Cortina, near where Kevin and Tess went to the mountains.  I would like to go, but it is too far.

On Wed, 24 May, Myrna and I drove to the organ workshop to visit Andrea Mascioni, the owner.  We met with him for about 1.5 hours, but did not take any pix.  I showed him my Hauptwerk setup, and let him play some of the ranks on various organs, including the Antegnati. (He went to get his uncle, who had already gone home--I would have appreciated seeing his reaction, as he seems to be a master pipe voicer.) Andrea was very impressed, having never seen or heard Hauptwerk before.  His wife is a professional organist, in Venice, and he said she practices on an electronic organ (made in Italy, for which they used a Mascioni organ for samples, which he said aren't as good as Piotrs via Hauptwerk), and they only have a piano in their home, which is interesting.  They have a small 2 manual organ in the entryway to the workshop, which I would love to have in my home, it would even fit, so I suppose it would also fit in their home, which we did not see (maybe they have a small one they inherited because the organ workshop has been in the family since the early 1800's).  Anyway, he said he would like for me to be his representative in the US when I get home and I could communicate with his marketing person in Paris, who he tried to call so I could speak with him, but he didn't answer. This person used to make organs, and is now in marketing.  He also asked me to see if Piotr in Poland would come to Italy this summer to make a Hauptwork recording of one of Mascioni organs, which he could choose from the website.  (I came back and emailed Piotr, and he answered and we are working on it, hopefully for July.) It was an enjoyable visit and I hope something comes of it.  If not, it was fun.  On our way home we stopped at a little out of the way (non touristy) restaurant where we had eaten before with the Salatini.  We had their €25 fixed price specials.  I had seafood and Myrna had meat (carne), which were both more than we needed to eat, their pizza was fine the last time we were there.

This was my seafood appetizer, shrimp in the middle, it was very good, and the rest was okay. I actually like seafood.

This was Myrna's appetizer, mostly salami, which was okay. She liked the middle, bread tomatoes and oil.

This was my first course, pasta, with seafood, which was pretty good.

This is what was left on my plate after I ate the first course. I was already pretty full, because their table bread was good.
 
This was Myrna's pasta, which was a cooked, as opposed to crudo, proscuito in a cream sauce, which she really liked. She wants me to get the recipe, which I will try to do.

This was my second course, breaded and fried (home made, not frozen) sea food with french fries (definitely frozen), which were fair, but nothing to write home about.  I was a little overdosed on seafood and way overstuffed.

This was Myrna's second course, scaloppini, thin cuts of veal in a wine sauce, which she didn't like too much.  I ate what she didn't want (adding to my overstuffing).  It was a little tough, for veal, and I also didn't care much for the wine flavor in the sauce, and the fries were the same kind as mine.

Basically, the meal, for €54 (water cost extra), was too much fat and calories for us. But we had a pleasant experience eating outside on the patio, watching the cars and people, with the sun on our backs.

20 May 2017, Asti and Slow Farm

Today, our p-day, we were invited by President Allen to go to a farm-vineyard.  It was in a beautiful place a little southwest of Asti (we don't have missionaries there), which is a relatively small town in Piemonte (Piedmont--name in English, which Safeway uses as a brand name and I remember because mother always liked to shop at Safeway in Safford), west of Alessandria, where we are going on Tuesday again for zone conference.  It took 1.5 hours to get there, pretty much on freeway. We got off the freeway at Asti and headed for farming country, although all of this part of Italy is farming country

We headed up this road past farms, and some very nice looking new farm houses, as well as some really old ones.

As we headed up the hill, we saw someone's garden, with tomatoes just planted near poles, so they can grow up the poles. The flashy streamers I suppose are to scare away birds or something.

At another bend in the road, where we waited for our guests, there was a fountain, with continually running water.  I wondered whether it was potable, then a man pulled up and had in the trunk of his car many plastic bottles which he began to fill up, so I suppose it was not only potable, but very good water.

When we reached the top of a hill we came to a farm house, our destination.  The barn is on the right side, the house on the left (white painted part) and further to the left, not visible in this pix, is the rest of the long house, which is owned by another party, an American, whom we met, and will write about later. This, at least the end, is a typical old Italian barn and farmer's house.

We had two couples as our hosts.  The lady emptying the basket is an Italian, married to an American, John Omer (they are members), and the other couple now own the farm.  The couples have been friends for over 30 years. This is the kitchen of the farm house, built in the 1700s, that he inherited from his father.  The owners actually live in Torino and just go out to the farm occasionally.  You can see it has a wood stove, used for heat in the cooler months also.

The ceiling of the living room has fresco decoration, as was apparently even done in farm houses a long time ago.

On the wall was a pix of the owner's father and mother, who lived on the farm.  I would say the owner is about my age.

And another pix of his father and grandfather, with a white work ox.

This is a work table in the barn room, where they milked the cows and did other farmery jobs. They guessed the table is about 200 years old and has been held together in various innovative, although not elegant, ways. Italians know how to "make do."

We were touring the house while the women were setting out snacks for us on the kitchen table.  It was about 10:30 am, but they had to feed us in their house to make us feel welcome. This is very "Italian."  Everything was fresh from the farm, or nearby, including the three types of juice (apple, apricot and peach) she had made that morning.(She discussed how she used some kind of steamer to make the juice.)

Fratello Omer, who lives in Varese, cut a sausage he made about Christmas time.  It was raw pork, cured in the air, not smoked.  He said it grew white mold on the outside, which was just brushed off.  It was actually very delicious.  Even Myrna ate some. The bowl of nuts are hazel nuts (called filberts in Oregon) which came from the farm and had been freshly shelled and roasted, that morning, for us.   They were wonderful.

Out the side of  the house, this was the view, of a neighbors vineyard, with lots of farms, a small town and, behind it all were the mountains for which Piemonte (foot of the mountains) is named.  They are Swiss alps, including the Matterhorn.

At another point you could see the alps behind the hills, still with fresh snow.

I zoomed in on this little town.  We actually went to another town, like this one, for lunch.  These little towns, mostly on hills, are everywhere, with farms below.  In medieval times the baron (lord) lived on the hill and the villagers (serfs, basically slaves) worked the fields below, and got part of the crops, and were also allowed to have their gardens.  They were indebted to the baron and had a hard time leaving, although they were not technically slaves, who could be bought and sold.

This shot was taken from the same place as the others, and you can see modern serfs working in the vineyard.

Zoomed in you can see that the farm workers were tying the grape vines so the fruit will be easier to harvest.

The farm workers live in little villages in valley, and each little village has its own church, or more if it is a little bigger village.  Modern day homes are not all that bad, and, of course, some of the people work in the cities and commute.

Behind the farm house we were visiting, the farmer had stacked wood, pruned from the nut trees, which will be used for the fireplaces and stoves in the winter.  I will write more about the right end of this farmhouse complex, with barn on the left.

Okay, this is the house from the barn side.  But if you look down the row, you can see it evolves to a very nice house (of which I did not take a good pix, unfortunately).

But back from where I took the pix of the wood pile, if you look to the right to the end of the nice end of the house, you can see it has a fairly new swimming pool.  This is a "villa" farm house (agro- tourism) that the owner rents out to tourists.  He is an American, who has lived in Italy for the past 20 years.  He works for a company that sells surgical glue to hospitals, and has three daughters, the youngest is in her early 20's and is going to the Slow Food University.  More about Slow Food later.  He said that if his house did not have a swimming pool or hot tub (which it also had), no one would rent it as a vacation place, so he had the pool put in as an investment a few years ago.  He said he stays with friends when his house is rented out.  He said next week a family is coming from Iceland to stay there for two weeks. (I got his website address in case you are interested in renting his farm house.)

Another view from the farm house, in another direction.

So we started walking down the road to the fruit and nut orchards. The guy in the white shirt is the American who owns the nice end of the farmhouse, and the guy with the blue cap is the owner of the farmhouse, who was born there, but now lives in Torino.

We were approaching the fruit trees.

With tons, literally, of ripe fruit. These were yellow cherries, Myrna called them Ramier (her father grew cherries in Washington state), which were ripe and wonderful.

These were red cherries, also ripe.  We picked and ate all we wanted, but the farmer was apparently not picking them or having them picked this year.  I don't know exactly what his plans were, but there was a lot of fruit on those trees going to waste. At least the birds will be well fed this year.

Then we got to his nut trees.  These hazel nut trees are not very big (easier to harvest), but he said they are very productive. He apparently has these picked, because he had sacks of them.  He gave a big sack to the other hosts (the Omers) as we left.

Our party walking down the road past the orchards.

The street is called Ca' Colomba (Dove Street) and is part of the agro tourism business, of which there were many in this area. You can see grapes behind on the other side of the road.

We walked down the road to an ancient little church, apparently for the serfs, now abandoned.

Approaching the church.

Fratello Omer, who is an American from Utah, went to Italy on a mission just before my brother Fred did.  He returned to the US, but met an Italian lady in New York, married her, and they have lived in Italy (Varese) for the past 20 years.  He is now an Italian citizen, as well as an American citizen. In this pix he was telling us about the old abandoned church.
 
About all that is left is a coat of arms above the door

Inside it had been whitewashed, apparently all the frescoes are underneath the white wash.  Perhaps at one time it had been used for storage. Interestingly, there was an electric hookup inside.

This is the tree lined road leading from the other side of the old church to an area where people once lived.

Down the other side of the road, past grape vineyards.  A family on bikes passed us.

At the end of the road, there was a large rose bush.  It was, according to the farmer, not just for decorative beauty. He said they plant rose bushes around grapes so if disease comes to the grapes, the rose bush is the first to show the disease.  They replant grapes from time-to-time so they will be more productive. In Italy, they license grape plants, so if you have some die, you can re-plant, but you can't just plant more grapes, without buying a license. I guess this is the way they control the quantity of wine produced in that area, to keep the price up.  They make very good wine in this area.

All of the grape vines had small grapes.  They are harvested in the fall.

When we got back to the front yard, so to speak, of the farmhouse, Sorella Allen wanted their pix taken with the old sickles that were in the barn, perhaps to use for something motivational, e.g., "thrust in your sickle" at a zone meeting.  The tree that looks like a banana tree is a banana tree, which the lady said had produced small bananas in the past. The climate in this area is affected by the Mediterranean Sea, which is not very far away. According to Google, the weather in Asti (this area) is warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer than Torino, because of its proximity to the sea.

Then we drove to this building, which looked like a new farm house, but was a winery.  The family lived above (see their Madonna on the wall).  The office was on one end and the area where they take in the grapes at harvest time was on the other.

In the parking area was an old wine press, now used for decoration.

And a new shipment of wine bottles.

In this pix, at the end, is the father, now owner of the winery,and his son, to the right, who will take over the business. (The owner's father just died a few years ago, and they had his pix proudly displayed on the wall.)  The guy to the left is the owner of the orchard and farm house, and the man to the close right is the American who owns the other end of the arm house, and went with us to the tour of the winery. He is also an expert on wines, and told us a lot about the business.  We later learned that the son of the owner of the winery also speaks excellent English.  These stainless steel vats are used for new wine and is where the wine becomes alcoholic, in just a few weeks.

Then the wine is put in these large oak casks to age, for years.  Here the son is talking to President Allen about the business

He said the casks are all oak and come from different countries, because they each impart their own distinctive flavor.  This one came from France and contains, translated, "red wine which is in the act of becoming Robro Docg Mompissano, from 2016, which is biologico (Italian word for organic), and has 225 liters."

This one is from Austria and also has last year's wine in it.

There were many wooden casks of wine in the aging process.

When I first saw this drip, I thought of blood, it was so dark red.  But the winery was very clean and had just been hosed down.
 
In this pix you can see the wet floor, and also the owner's large and very friendly dog, who followed us everywhere we went.

Back in the office, they had treats ready for us.  Of course, they offered us wine, but only the non- members had any (they even bought some).  When we told them we don't drink they offered us sparkling and natural water, from the same cooler in which they keep the wine (apparently wine is best consumed at a certain temperature, cool but not cold).  They also offered us grissini (bread sticks, specialty of Torino area) and freshly picked, cherries, which we had been eating all morning.  They were very generous and kind. There was no charge for the tour and they seemed to enjoy showing us their winery, which the American told us is considered a small winery, because it produces less than 10,000 bottles a year.  He also said that you make a small fortune with a winery, but you must start out with a large fortune.  Knowing how wine is supposed to taste is a very interesting art, and there is also some science in running a winery, we learned.

They had lots of awards on the walls for their wines, mostly from the Slow Food movement.

Now, if you don't know, the Slow Food movement is an international organization, with headquarters in an old Savoy (rulers of this part of Italy for several hundred years) palace not far from where we were.  Slow Food is, I suppose opposed to fast food, and you know what that is.  David actually is a part-owner in a slow food (hamburger) restaurant in Los Angeles, so he has at least heard of this movement or organization.  I love their cookbook, of which I found a copy in our apartment. Myrna bought me one on Amazon for Christmas, which is waiting for me at Amy's.  Also, as mentioned above, the American owner of the nice end of the farm house has a daughter gong to the Slow Food University to become a writer about food, so we learned a lot from him.

After leaving the winery we went to a very nice restaurant, across from an old church, in a little town called Guarene (in the province of Cuneo), not far away.  Fratello Omer is siting to the left of Myrna.  The table was set with breadsticks, called grissini, and are a specialty of Piemonte, and rolls, which the waitress came and replaced whenever we ate one.  They were just placed, artfully, on the cloth table cloth.  There were fresh roses on the table and, interestingly, all of the chairs were placed at 45 degree angles to the tables.

We had a fixed price (€30 each) meal, that began with this appetizer, one plate like this for each person.  The round meat slices are veal and the sauce is a tuna flavored, and the dish is called vitello tonato, and is very famous in Piedmonte.  On the bottom is insalata Russa, or Russian salad, which is the Italian equivalent of potato salad, except it has vegetables (peas and carrots), a hint of tuna, and freshly made mayonnaise. It was freshly made and not yet chilled. The interesting offering on the right was carne cruda, or raw beef (from a special breed of beef), with a hint of spice (garlic and olive oil) flavoring, also at room temperature, topped thin slices of a hard cheese. Now, we did not choose these appetizers, they came with the meal, and none of us would probably have had the raw meat (except the Italians and Bro. Omer, who ate Myrna's). I did eat mine and sort of got used to eating room temperature raw calf meat, which had no fat, to speak of. It was very soft and sort of melted in your mouth.

Myrna had asparagus with a bagna cauda (dip), typical of Piemonte.  This pix was taken as Myrna was about finished, there was a lot more asparagus when it first came.  I had a plate of home made egg noodles with meat sauce, which was good. The meat course was young lamb with oven roasted potatoes. The meat was fairly spicy, for Italian food.  They also had a chocolate pudding like dessert, which had nuts (hazel of course).  They served us water, natural and sparkling, and would have served us wine and coffee for dessert, had we wanted it, all for the fixed price.

We sat fairly close to a window overlooking the valley, and this was the view outside.

The restaurant is the first building on the right.  Our car, Opel Merieva, we named Minerva, is on the right.

Right across the street from where we parked is the village church, which was closed when we first came, but open when we left.

Of course, I had to admire the old organ above the front door.  But when I asked to play it was told that the wooden balcony is weak and they don't let tourists go up there.

The altar was typically beautiful.

As were the walls and ceilings. This is all just fresco on plaster, not three dimensional,as they usually are. There were no marble statues either, just paintings of them on the walls.  I thought "smoke and mirrors, " but did not see either.

But one thing I have never seen before an an old Italian Catholic church, in fact not in any church like this, is red padded theater style chairs.  This must be a pretty wealthy church and town.  (Those wine makers must not like to sit on hard, cold chairs, and kneel to pray).

On the outside of the church, was this interesting solar orienting clock sort of thing. I don't know how to read it.

There must have been some structural problems with the old church, which they apparently fixed with these metal things within the walls of the church, which weren't obvious from inside.

The city hall (comune) was right there in the square, and I took a quick pix of this vehicle to remember the name of the city.  According to Google, it is a town of 3,476 inhabitants (same size as Soda Springs, Idaho), and is in the province of Cuneo, not Asti, although Asti is only about 15 minutes away (we did not go over to Cuneo, where we have missionaries.)

Leaving the town, we followed this car of our hosts, (our GPS was not working at that point), through the narrow streets of town.

Past another old church on the side of the hill--this one was not open or I wold have stopped.

Still down the side of the hill.

Past another rose bush guarding grape vines

To the floor of the valley and back to the freeway, where our GPS started working again, to home in a little over an hour.  We had a very pleasant day, and you can see, the weather was ideal, pleasantly warm. My hay fever didn't bother me all day, until I got back into the area were we live. (One of our missionaries is drinking apple vinegar and honey in warm water, which he said is a miracle cure for hay fever.)

Ciao for now.