Thursday, March 12, 2009

Here Comes The Sun



It is two weeks into my stay at Ca’Mazzetto; I’m walking along the Franciscan Peace Trail, tending 400 sheep on their 120 hectare farm in the hills of Umbria. Maria’s alarm goes off; she lets it ring repeatedly burying her head deeper beneath the peach colored down comforter.

Per the injury, my roommate does double duty: her work, my work, and my personal go-get-it nurse. No doubt as a consequence, Maria’s own health suffered; she has an infection in her left mammary-gland. Reluctant to take antibiotics (do you think my runs could have anything to do with that?), Maria walks around the room with Argile - an herbal remedy - smudged on her left breast.

“We’re a mess!” she displays her green boob, points to the crutches and the visible gash on my leg.

And then she sings, like she often does, “Little Darlin’, it’s been a long cold lonely winter. “

“Little Darlin’, it feels like years since it’s been here” I add.

We pull up the Beatles on my computer and together with the utube video, sing and dance like the gimps we are:

“Here comes the sun. Tu do do do. Here comes the sun and I say, ‘It’s all right.’”

As of March 1, I was scheduled to be at the second WWOOF farm. As of March 12, I am still at Casa Lanzarotti.

I can’t think of a place I’d rather be.

1 comment:

  1. Geez Brig! Move over Eat, Pray, Love. You're the bomb writer. Had to catch up on the last month during one reading and couldn't believe what you've been up to. The gash on your leg is really disgusting and hopefully healing well. All that talk about slaughtering pigs and cows and then you go and slaughter yourself! Yikes! I guess you're supposed to stay at that farm a while longer. Maybe you're supposed to just stay at the Farm for the next round of who knows what! Do heal soon and don't stop writing. Miss you tons and sending you love, epod

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