If it's not going right, it must be Monday!

“LOST MUSKET DIARY” January 19, 2015

Partly Sunny 71°F/22°C in Rancho Santa Margarita

Unleaded gas $2.45/gal or €2.11/gal (55¢/liter)

[Don’t be surprised if your gas station is mobbed by cars with Italian license plates!]

Buongiorno,

Greetings, everybody. This is your captain from the flight deck. We’ll be taking off for points unknown shortly, just as soon as we get final clearance from the tower, and your flight crew completes running through our checklist. We have no idea where we will end up at the end of today’s flight, but here on “Escapade Airways,” it’s not the final destination that matters but the adventure we have along the way.

Check list:

1-      Open eyes. Take pulse.  OK? Check!

2-      Get up. Head for bathroom. Don’t forget to brush teeth. Check!

3-      Head for kitchen. Pour water for coffee. Check!

4-      Notice plugged drain in kitchen sink. Check!

5-      Send email to apartment manager requesting drain repair. Check!

6-      Note that you are completely out of coffee. Check!

7-      Turn on whistling kettle for tea. Check!

8-      Make tea. Add lemon and honey. Check blog responses and email. Check!

9-      Check on Lola. Is she awake, asleep or deceased? One eye open and breathing? Good, you’ll have someone to pal around with today. Check!

My mornings start this way just about every day. I like to take a few minutes first thing to make coffee and take my personal inventory before I plug in my Sonicare and get dressed. Today I am cheered to read a new Tweet from Melissa Etheridge who has come across my blog and takes a moment to tell me that she enjoys it.  If I should die before breakfast, her note has made my day. The plugged kitchen sink drain and my stupidity in not buying coffee while I was marketing yesterday just rolls off my back. Even my homebrewed cup of tea tastes good this morning.

As I ladled the honey into my tea cup, I flash back to a Sunday morning last year during my Italian adventure. Mike and Laura were driving us from Rome to Selci, a small town in Sabina, in the hills above Rome for a weekend at her folks’ vacation home. On the way, Laura directs Mike to detour to a 12^th century abbey. In the blink of an eye, we leave the 21^st century and begin a trip back to the Middle Ages. Parking the car we walk along a path toward the abbey in the distance. The way is lined with vendors selling fresh fruit and vegetables from their makeshift stalls. We are greeted warmly along the path, and assure each vendor that we would stop and shop with them on our way back.

The abbey had been built on the ruins of an ancient Roman estate, which, in turn had been built on the ruins of an even more ancient pagan temple. There had been a Catholic church on the site for a thousand years. A sign at the entrance invited travelers to enter. I’m not a Catholic, but I enjoy visiting places like this. Moments after I took my seat toward the rear of the sanctuary, I heard some distant voices singing a Gregorian chant. Then, the sound of chimes as the scent of incense touched my nostrils. Preceded by a cadre of altar boys, the priest began his procession into the sanctuary to begin the celebration of the mass. As they passed my pew, I glanced across the church to see one of the faithful in a confessional opposite from where we sat. I couldn’t help but wonder what sins were being divulged at that moment. Our Sunday outing had transported me back to a very dark time in European history, but I realized that even in those trying times there were places that offered relief from the darkness and a respite for a weary traveler. Then, came the moment that connects my visit to the abbey and today’s cup of English Breakfast Tea. In the little abbey gift shop that we visited following the mass, was a display of souvenirs and keepsakes. The abbey’s shops financially support the church and the monks who serve there. The little shop stocked a variety of local delicacies which were grown in the fields around the abbey, and one of the most popular items were the jars of honey made by the bees that were tended by the monks of the abbey. Laura related the story of the monks and the abbey and the bees that inhabited the countryside. Much love and tender care were expended on the blossoms that flourished in the surrounding countryside, and the result was a continuous harvest of an especially fragrant and sweet honey. People come from great distances to visit the abbey and purchase it.

As much as I love honey as a sweetener for my tea or an ingredient in a delicate pastry, I always love a good story to accompany them. And, this was a wonderful story. I purchased several jars of this exquisite confection to give to friends as an accompaniment to my own story of our visit to the abbey.  On the way out, we stopped along the path to chat with the vendors, admire their wares, and make our purchases, as promised. Finally, it was back to the car and on to our next adventure, leaving our stopover in the 12^th century behind us.

Ciao,

MikeBo

Footnote: Following my trip down memory lane, Lola and I went for our morning stroll, had coffee with some of the regulars downstairs in my apartment’s “social center,” and then trotted off to Trader Joe’s for a pound of their custom-ground Kona coffee ($19.99) along with some other supplies. When I returned, Juan, our miracle-working maintenance supervisor was knocking on my door to fix the plugged sink drain. By noon, my good ship “Lollipop” was back on course, and Lola and I were ready for our next adventure.