Lucy and Peter's Nativity Set

Raining again today. I think we've had maybe two of three days without rain for over a month now. And if it's not raining in the morning it will be raining by the afternoon. Peter said that the spinach in the garden needs water, "But not this much!" But there is good news..the artichokes, broccoli, and cauliflower that the deer enjoyed so much last month are growing back. And the newly planted fava beans are coming up. too. So this is all very good.

There was an anniversary here over the weekend. We brought Lucy home from the kennel four years ago on December 14. Naming a dog is quite a big deal. For me, anyway. The calendars here always have the feast days of the saints listed for each day. Even if it's a calendar for a garage or a tire store. When we brought Lucy home I checked the calendar and saw that the 14th was the feast of St. Giovanna..."Joan". That didn't do it for me. So back up to the 13th and there is St. Lucy.

Now, before Lucy came bounding into our life, we had a short run through with a dog I named "Lucky". He was a rescue dog and we picked him up at the Chocolate Festival in Pratovecchio one November night. Lucky was a good looking beagle mix, two years old. We made him a little bed of rugs and towels for the night and helped him to get used to his new digs. The next day Peter went into Florence and Lucky and I stayed home to cook and bond. That night Lucky got a little nervous as Peter walked past his territory on the way to the bathroom and Peter was almost rendered a castrato. So ciao, Lucky. The guy from the kennel came the next day and took not so Lucky back to the other inmates.

I said to Peter after that, "No cuccia, no dog." ("Cuccia", pronounced coo-chuh, means dog bed.) So, I see Peter taking apart an aluminum lawn chair that he found on the side of the road. And then he goes into Stia and buys some screening. I can see what's going on here. His Tuscan ingenuity is working, the wheels are grinding. "I am making a bed for the dog", he tells me. I told him we were getting a puppy not a rabbit. That afternoon he goes out and buys this huge crate (I call it the guest room.) for the puppy we don't have yet.

December 14 we start out to find the kennel.We stop somebody and ask. Now we're really in the mountains here so it's difficult to even find anybody to ask. Somebody tells us to go up the road and we'll see a sign. No sign. It goes on this way for about an hour.

We finally find the place, It's raining hard and it's cold and tempers are tight. The kennel guy say that he has seven pups. "Seven choices!", I think. This is great. He stops hosing the doggie diamonds from the kennels and opens door #1 and five little poopy white pups come tumbling out. Peter says,"He tells me that they are Pastore Maremmano." These dogs grow up to be as big as Volkswagons and we were really hoping for something on the smaller side. Door #2 opens and these two abandoned sisters explode out the door. They're both about a foot high but one is a tiny bit smaller and we grab her. No time for interviews and puppy chat. Peter puts a leash around her neck and she trots off trying to keep up with him. I'll never forget the sight of them walking  in front of me, little Lucy and Peter and the red leash. We sign the papers, etc. and I hop in the back seat with our new bundle of joy wrapped in the spaghetti rug. ( A chenille bathroom mat that unravels.) 

We take her right away for her shots. I waited in the car...and waited. Peter finally comes back with Lucy dazed by her sudden new life. He tells me that when she got the last shot and she was placed on the floor that she promptly collasped! The Vet said it (the reaction) happens one in 500 dogs. So an antidote was administered and she was all puppy-liscious all over again.

Now, she's a big girl and she's is our sunshine on a rainy day, believe me. She loves to ride into town each day with Peter when he goes to buy the paper and bread. She is his shadow while he works in the garden and sits by him when he stops to take a break. She barks at strangers but given the chance she will smother them with kisses. She's crazy about Umberto's woods. And we even buried a few truffles and she followed the scent (we rubbed her nose with truffle oil) and found them! All that, and she's bilingual, too.

I know that you can really bore people if you talk about your dreams or your dog. So pardon my indulgence.

I must get Peter to post his recipe for spaghetti with mussles and clams. That was Friday's lunch and it was exceptional. Peter can  really step up to the plate (please pardon the pun) when I'm not inspired to come up with something for lunch. Sunday I was pleased with my rabbit with mustard and tarragon sauce. There were plenty of buttery boiled potatoes with parsley to take care of the sauce. An apple and amaretto torta followed the rabbit. Today is somewhat uninspired country fare. Tortelli con patate (a kind of ravioli stuffed with potato which this area is known for) with the ragu' I made last week. Fast and filling on this rainy day

Peter put up his own Nativity Set last night. I think it's terrific. All the little tools of daily life that he made to accompany the main act....I love the well and the bucket and the lamp to heat the oil. Look for the cooking pot over the fire. And don't miss in the stable, the broom made out of a rosemary branch. You just have to love this guy.