3

To look at a crow is to know how deadly and dangerous it is. It is much, much larger than any other city bird. It can fly up from the ground quickly, and it can fly down to the ground from the top of a tree just as easily as I might have bent down to tie my shoe. They are completely black, and you can’t see their faces. They are loud, and make unearthly noises. They gather in large groups in the winter, and they know how to get into a trashcan. I have seen a Seattle crow go into a trashcan with a covered lid, come out with a Dick’s bag, and open the bag and take out the orange foil from a burger, all in the time it takes for a traffic light to change. Crows eat all sorts of strange things, and they do strange things, too. Sometimes they will spend a lot of time pulling moss off of trees and letting it drop to the ground. Perhaps they are looking for food or gathering nest-making materials, but whatever it is, it’s frightening.

2

In those days, kids walked to school, and walked by themselves, even if they were tiny girls with skinny arms and skinny legs like me. I was expected to walk through the neighborhood behind our house, which was thoroughly haunted from end to end. It had grotesque trees that were ready to catch you up in their limbs and crush you if only they could reach you. The houses were all different from each other, not little variations on a theme as it was in my neighborhood, where all the houses were brick. No, on Polo Drive there were houses that looked like castles, and houses with circular driveways, and Tudor houses with crooked timbers and crazy crooked bricks. Some of the houses looked big enough to be schools or hospitals. Clearly, most of them were haunted: you never saw cars, or people going in or out. There weren’t any nasty loose Schnauzers trying to bite you, like there were on Davis Drive. There were gaping sidewalk cracks showing just where the trolls were hiding, just there underground. The sidewalks were not straight and square like there were in my neighborhood. They were curved. It seemed all wrong. Even the street signs used a scary, gothic, unreadable font, as if to let you know how haunted it was. Absolutely worst of all, there were the crows.

1

When I was little, I had thick dark hair, cut in bangs, dark eyes and a dark glare. I was afraid of too many things in my world (the basement, the crows in the neighborhood behind our house, my grandparents, mixtures of food), and I know I cried a lot. If I complained too, I don’t remember it. I just remember crying.

(heavy sigh)

I have just enough time to get an espresso at Gerasmo's on the way to picking up Gus from school. Or, do I?

Il Volto Santo di Sansepolcro

This very old crucifix hangs in the cathedral in Sansepolcro. After seeing it on a tour led by our guide Rohaise, I revisited the Volto Santo a number of times during my stay, showing it to a number of friends. He has a large, wise and slighly sad face, long arms and fingers, and he is made of wood. In the Museo Civico, you can see the crown and robe the townspeople used to dress him in once a year, when he would be used in a procession.

In this picture, I am holding a card depicting Il Volto Santo. To my right is Simon, who gave it to me. To my left are Stephanie, Bill, Roseanne, Martin, Bob and Kathy. We are standing on the sidewalk in Anghiari.

Jokes told by 11-year-olds, and other miracles

Earlier this summer my 11-year-old told a version of this joke at dinner. Here is how he told it to me today:
So this guy goes to a job audition for the person who is going to ring the bell on the top of a great big tower to wake everybody up. It was a pretty easy job, so the man thought it woud be pretty easy and he would get the job. So he goes in the building and the job auditioner says "Well, you can just about have the job, all you have to do is ring a bell."
Then he says, "Wait a minute, dude, you don't have any arms."
And the guy is like, "Naw, don't worry, I can make it work."
So he climbs up the tower and the job auditioner says "Alright, show me how you're gonna do this."
"Ok."
So then, he starts slamming his face against the bell. Job auditioner says, "Ok, you can have the job, but that looks like it hurts."
Unfortunately, a few days later, the man accidentally fell off the tower. All the townspeople crowded around him. One said,"Does anyone know who this guy is?"
The job auditioner came up and said, "I dunno, but his face rings a bell."

This is the view of Sansepolcro from the bell tower of the cathedral there. The confraternity of bellringers performed a demonstration for us. I had forgtten the joke told in June and remembered it suddenly at this visit.

Tour of a Factory

With the departure of the Napoleonic armies, the Busatti family chose to keep milling fabric in Anghiari, which they have done since 1842. Housed in a 500-year-old building, their fabrics are yarn-dyed and woven from linen, cotton, and wool and their products are of the very highest quality. As visitors, we were treated to a tour, offered prosecco and Vin Santo to drink, and entertained by a local pianist.

A walking tour of this town took us to the Town Hall, which contained a number of frescoes, including this one. I like seeing San Sebastiano because he is so easy to recognize; martyred when he was shot full of arrows, his depictions always include lots of wounds and the expression on his face is typically serene.