Ovvia!

Ciao ragazzi.  Piú fotos for y'all.  Eccoli.

Checking on the donkeys in one sunny morning around 8 a.m.  That's (L to R) Floppy, Stefano and Serena.

Here's Sam (above) a real bad-ass cool-ass farmer chick who was an intern two summers ago and came back for three weeks to hang out and WWOOF.  It's been such a pleasure working with her, as we share an intimate love of waking up early and doing chores and then facciamoing pancakes.

This morning on the piano, just me and La Skoda.  I was building some electric fence as back-up for the pezzo di merda permanent fence you can see on the right.  Today was a glorious day, I took a swim at lunch hour.

The interns plus the butchering volunteers after last week's BBQ lunch by the newly-opened pool.  Summer is in the air, folks.

CatFinn being hot by the pool this weekend.

The tiny garden I planted this weekend using trash-buckets I found around Spank.  Can't wait for more basil.

This week has been a va bene all around so far.  Tonight I took off from dinner and enjoyed some delicious french cheese (Brebis di Argental) that I finally found at the Iper-Coop in Siena.  Sam and I also made a delicious salad using my new all-time favorito ingredient, Sardines!!!!!!!!!!  Then we made two carrot cakes for the friends.  Then we went out for a walk and looked for cinghiale, but unfortunately didn't see any...

Tomorrow is a wake up early day, so off I go.

buonanotte

friday 'flexions

spostiamo i maiali

I'm trying to keep with the theme of writing on Fridays.  I like it because it allows me to reflect on yet another week flown by.  This week definitely had its ups and downs.  As I wrote last time, we lost a cow last Saturday.  We lost of few piglets this week.  It seems like a pretty common occurance that you lose one or two from each litter, but still it feels like a kind of failure whenever you do...

Monday morning Sam and I woke up bright and early at 6 and fed all the cows before making a batch of whole wheat pancakes and some coffee.  When we got to the wall at 8, the capo di animali was quite glad to hear of our early morning accomplishments.  We wrangled some pigs and fixed some fence, brought flour to all the "feedareas" and cleaned up the Piano for a tour.  On Monday afternoon Andrea, a beekeeper extraordinaire from a local farm/community called Bagnaia, came by to teach us interns about bees!  It was super informative and helped reinforce what I also know about those diligent critters.

I was on lunch duty this week with Nina (read: dream-team).  We are both very confident in the kitchen and this week we were rather ambitious.  Monday we made Pad Thai and fried rice, Tuesday we made Papusas and refried beans, Wednesday was crepes and quiche and then on Thursday we grilled out by the pool, which resulted in about 5 kilos of slow-cooked ribs.  It was a whirlwind in the kitchen all week long and we had a blast.

On Tuesday I castrated two piglets.  Males.  I was nervous at first, but I had expressed interest and Giulio was very encouraging.  I was a little scared because I didn't want to cause the little guy too much pain, but I also felt like it was an important thing to learn to do on a farm.  After doing the second one I felt confident.  Although it wasn't a pretty thing, it's something I hope to get better at.  Plus it takes all of four minutes.

Wednesday was a casino (a mess).  We had to move the cows around from one stable to another because a bunch of them are getting sold.  I was the only person working animali since Richard was away and Sam (current WWOOFer and former intern) was working in the transformation room sottovuotoing vitello (vaccuum-sealing veal).  Two guys with a big truck came and we loaded up the cows one by one in the truck.  It's a really sucky and annoying job and it took all freakin' morning.  I'll leave it at that.  In the afternoon the vet came and we all ran around trying to get pigs into their feedareas, which again was a casino, but the vet (who greatly resembles a mad scientist but is also a big Jefferson Airplane fan) told me I was a brava ragazza.  So that was cool.

Yesterday, Thursday, 19 pigs had broken through a permanent fence and started walking up the road towards the castle.  We slowly but surely led them back to their home-base and then fixed the fence problem.  Then we fed cows and while Giulio and Richard ran around and did flour, I fixed fence on the piano and ran down every half hour to check the ribs on the grill.  It kind of felt all week like we were struggling to keep up with the demands of the animals, like we were sempre one step behind.

That's why this morning I rose early again to feed cows before the capo arrived at 8.  It's a sure-fire way to make everyone happier and more at ease in the morning--to get the feeding done early.  That way the real work can begin right at 8.  It's great to feel like you're on top of things and making progress and this week was a bit of a struggle.  In many ways, I wish this internship was 6 months in total.  Now that summer has come and the sun rises so early, I feel like I could easily get up at 5:30 and feed and then have the whole morning to do projects and make things work better.  Sadly, there are only two weeks left of the internship.  I'm almost in denial about that fact and have chosen not to address it.  Rather I will look forward to staying through June and helping Spannocchia be the best place it can be...

baby pigs and happy times

This one was a big week.  The sun came out like crazy, more maialini (baby pigs, if you haven't caught that yet) were born, lots of pigs escaped their fences (as usual, our fencing system is a mess), I squished my finger, the boss returned, and then finally, sadly, a cow died last night.  Cinese, the cow, had a lung infection and a week ago she stopped eating.  Then two days ago Cinese lay down and wouldn’t get up.  When a cow does this one worries.  She didn’t have a cough or a fever, but the vet said that was worse than if she had.  We did everything we could and the farm shelled out a whole bunch of money for medications, but last night we lost her.  It moved me to tears to see such a big animal in so much pain, her body obviously trying hard to live.

In happier news, there are so many crazy cute little pigs running around the Piano in packs of twelve, playing and cuddling with each other.  It’s incredibly relaxing to just watch them go about their little baby pig business.  

We moved many pigs around this week, including 19 to the area that I finished building a couple of weekends ago.  It felt great to see my hard work put to good use, and I’m sure the pigs are stoked on their new territory, which is totally gorgeous (forested hillsides, grassy fields, creek running through it all) and must be at least 10 acres. 

It surely was an interesting experience for Richard and me to be left without a Capo for two weeks, but boy were we glad when Giulio returned on Wednesday.  It was so nice to get so much done and to have someone drive the tractor.  And honestly, I enjoyed having someone telling me what to do again.  And there is always so much to do--this week was made up of early mornings and long evenings, but with the air so warm I didn’t mind working while the sun settled behind the western hills, long after I was supposed to have called it a day.  That there is so much to do is at once overwhelming and also inspiring.   There’s never an excuse to be bored, really. 

we've adopted sheridan onto the animali team

Outside of work I've also been having fun.  Learning Italian continues to be an excellent adventure and I really appreciate the fact that I get to practicare basically all day every day.  Last weekend some ragazzi and I went to Rome with Valeria, our Italian teacher, and her choir.  It was quite an experience being on a 3 hour long bus ride with a bunch of Italian singers.  It was awesome.  Rome was rainy and beautiful and full of people everywhere.  On the long bus ride back I thought to myself how great it is to feel at home at Spannocchia, to feel cared for and safe and happy in a place where two months ago I knew no one.  It reminds one how possible and open the world can be. 

after Vincent and Valeria's concert, the ragazzi

Speaking of great Italians, we said goodbye to our dear friend Tommaso last week who has been here with us from the beginning.  It was a true pleasure to live and work with him, and he taught me so much about the italian language and culture (by which I mean, all the bad words).  But really, Tommaso ti vogliamo bene zio.  We had a dress-up dance party (as usual) to see him off, complete with lots of Campari.

In sharp contrast to a week ago, the weekend has been unbelievably glorious.  Today it was close to 80 degrees, so the gang loaded up in the van and drove to the nearby town of Brenna to lay like river rats all afternoon.  I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and even did some good river swimming/floating.  We also brought a spacebag full of wine white.  It was the definition of an ideal Saturday afternoon.

musings in a storm

It’s Friday and there is a storm upon us.  It rains with convinction.

It was an interesting week with the boss out of commission.  Angelo, who has worked here for ten years but has minimal interface with the animals, stepped up to the plate impressively in helping our team.  He experienced a grave tragedy half a year ago and has been a very aloof figure at Spannocchia during my stay here.  This week was a departure from his status quo, and he showed signs of chipperness as we worked well together.  He joked that the pigs, who are constantly showing extreme disregard for the electric fences, would join in our celebrate of primo di maggio (May Day).  We speak only in Italian and he shows no reservation in correcting me, a comfortable habit I appreciate.

The sky, a blank sheet of gray, is lit up intermittently by startling branches of light.

I can see how his perception of me has changed, in the same way my own self-perception has shifted in the last few years.  I know I come off as goofy, perhaps frivolous due to my sense of humor and flamboyant appearance.  The truth is that I care deeply about what I am doing here—indeed, I would like it to be my life’s work; and I believe I have come to be rather capable and intuitive in this work.  My hope is that my superior perceived my commitment this week and in doing so, was able to accept the other, more whimsical side of me.  I think we’re friends now.  Grazie zio Angelo.

Amongst steady rumble and menacing crack of thunder, the geranium on my windowsill drinks.  The lightening draws ominously closer.

This morning the ragazzi and I had a field trip to a winery not half an hour away from here.  Luckily we roamed their glorious property under a blue sky with occasional puffy clouds.  Colombaia is a biodynamic winery, they make “vino naturale”, adding nothing to the wine, not filtering it, and interfering in all processes absolutely minimally.  Unsurprisingly Helena and Dante, the two proprietors and wine-makers are fantastic people who love what they do and have all kinds of far-out but tried and true ideas about moons and stars and planets.  The wine was so delicious.

Purple strobe, deep roar, giddy laughs from around the fireplace below.

Sheridan and Eliza, two lovely gals (and fellow interns) from the southern united states who I have grown quite close to (the other night it was very cold and we lay like cozy sardines, three in a cot, giggling about boys late into the night) are going to stay in the area after Spannocchia and work at Colombaia.  On June 30^th, the very day I finish with Riccio, they will be done with their time at the biodynamic winery and my great hope is that we will make our way south together to visit the Amalfi coast. 

Summer feels far off at this moment, as I remain comfortably trapped inside while the gods work out whatever dispute led to this great spectacle.  I am thrilled to be staying in this country for quite a bit longer.

farm time moves slowly, also quickly

Here we are rapidly approaching the first of May and I am left blinking emphatically in disbelief.  I can't believe I've already been here two months, and yet, I can.  I feel like I finally have a handle on all the ins and outs and what-have-yous that allow the animal operation of Spannocchia to function.  In recent weeks we moved the donkeys to new pasture, so we are no longer supplementing their diet with hay, we brought a bull to slaughter, and welcomed into the world still more maialini carinissimi (very cute baby pigs).

week-old piglets on the "piano"

il mulino, where we mill all the grain for the animals including cows, pigs and chickens

I know I say this over and over on my blog, but the pace and rhythm of having one's life and one's work comingle as they do here is intensely fulfilling for me and I love that when I'm laying around reading on a Saturday afternoon, I can so easily be inspired to commence work on a project for the animals.

This weekend despite some crappy weather and a mild cold, I was energized to finish building a new electric fence, connect it to its other parts and finally have our new Padule area up and running.  Over the course of two afternoons I journeyed through the forest of oak and chestnut trees, building and wiring up the fence, repairing old sections and connecting them.  I ambled around with my tool belt  enjoying immensely having some time to work alone beyond the call of duty.  I think a few of my fellow interns thought me crazy for doing it, but maybe it just means I love my job here.

the piano, pig territory

sheridan and I get some serious work done when we scramble around in the Skoda

We also got into plenty of fun this weekend, with trips to Siena, the beach and hot springs.  I love my fellow interns and we never cease to enjoy each other's company immensely.  On Thursday afternoon the sun was shining like mad and we received the a-okay to have apperativi (pre-dinner cocktails and snacks, usually involving Campari and/or prosecco) on top of Spannocchia's 12-century tower, which looks out on all the surrounding hills and farms.  We drank and danced and had a gay old time of course.

sulla torre

cuddle puddle after pasqua dinner, themed "pastoral pastel" by ours truly

In other news, I have been granted permission to stay here past the end date of my internship.  I shall be staying at Spannocchia through the month of June!  Which means a whole extra month of Tuscany farmy fun.  I will get my own room with a little bathroom attached, in the same building I live in now, and will most likely wear many hats.  I will be working with the butchering, with the animals and probably doing whatever else needs to be done.  I'm so pleased with this latest development, especially because I finally feel that I have enough of a grasp of how everything works together that I can really be effective and useful in this place.

me and my girl Sheri D

view of Spank as you walk down from the piano

Yesterday, Monday, at our 8 o'clock meeting I learned that Richard and my beloved boss Giulio was out of commission for the next two weeks and that, with some help from Angelo, we would be in charge of the animals here--taking on more duties than usual and acting as our own bosses.  While I was very sorry for Giulio and his hurt ankle, I am also excited to have the opportunity to step up to the plate and show what a great job I can do.  Yesterday when Angelo, Sheridan and I were distributing flour (Richard was at the slaughterhouse), he looked to me entirely to call the shots and all he, Angelo, did was drive the tractor.  I felt like a boss!

la nuova maestra dei maialini e la sua macchina

My First Pig Slaughter

Wow, it has been so long since I wrote.  I apologize!  When things fall into place and rhythm takes over, I become a happy creature of habit and tend to process internally.  In the past couple of weeks 13 piglets were born, a couple passed away too.  The days have been every temperture and humidity, but mostly really beautiful.  I have made plenty more trips to the hotsprings, often on Sunday evenings, when the crowd tends to be pretty laid-back and friendly.

My parents came for a visit last weekend.  My father was giving a speech in London, which was a big hit in the advertising world, and they decided to tack on a trip here to visit little old me.  It was lovely to show them around.  I took two days off and we went to the coast, to a weird little non-touristy town called Piombino and then we drove up to Firenze and found ourselves in an incredibly beautiful city, chocked full of tourists!

On Sunday afternoon after returning from Florence I ran into Jessica and she asked me if there was any way I could go to the slaughterhouse with Riccio the norcino (salumi-maker/butcher) at five the next morning.  I said of course and went to bed early.  I didn't sleep well though, knowing I'd have to be up at 4:30, dreaming of screaming animals.

Before I knew it, Riccio, Sheridan and I were driving the refridgerated van and  a trailer with four pigs in tow, down Spannocchia's long, pitch black driveway, dramatic opera emanating from the stereo.  Our ride was silent aside from the eerie music.  The waxing yellow moon sat low on the the horizon as we drove down the deserted road that bisects the Val d'Elsa to the slaughterhouse thirty minutes away.  I was afraid.  The pigs make such terrible noises when we do something as innocent as check the tags on their ears, I could not begin to imagine the cacophony that would ensue when they were killed.

We arrived at a quarter to six and I helped Riccio get the three sows and one castrated boar into the shute.  Because we're an organic operation, we have to slaughter first, hence the early arrival.  We waited around for a while for the water, which scalds the pigs after they've been killed, to get to temperature.  I followed Riccio inside half an hour later, just as our first pig was to be slaughtered.  Before I knew what had happened, it was dead instantaneously.  I won't get into the gory details of the process, but I will tell you this.  It was silent.  Aside from the voices of the boisterous men who worked there, and the machines at work, the animals were totally quiet.

I got to help quite a bit, more than I'd expected, and to be honest I wasn't terribly disturbed by it all.  Emotionally, it was much more difficult for me to find dead baby pigs in the hutch with their mom than it was to see these pigs die instantly and then be skillfully butchered.  That isn't to say that the loss of a life isn't inherently sad or important, but I didn't find it disgusting or tragic.  One thing I did find surprising, if that's the right word, was that once one of the pigs was fully dead, removed of it's hair, hung up by it's ankles and cut down the middle, its butt muscle was still twitching.  Perhaps only five minutes after its death, I could see the muscle for a minute or so, twitching ever so slightly.

Riccio is a very skilled and sensitive butcher who dislikes the marcello (or slaughterhouse) and the men who work there.  He uses every part of the animal that he can.  He also happens to make damn good salumi.  After we returned, he asked me to help him with another chore.  He gave me his car keys and had me follow him in his Fiat (he drove the refrigerated van) to the auto body shop.  I spent an hour basking in the sun while the cars were worked on.  What a strange day, I thought to myself, quite a break from the usual routine of rolling around with Ricardo and Giulio building fences and feeding piggies.

By the time I returned to Spannocchia it could easily have been five in the evening, but it was only noon and I had to cook lunch for everyone.  Sheridan and I busted out a delicious meal of lentils and latkes.  Later that afternoon we had a wine-tasting class with Jessica, which was incredible.  It was our second of its kind and I have already learned so much about tasting wine.  Needless to say, I was rather tipsy afterwards (none of us spat) and made the impulsive decision to go for a run.  Off I went down the road with the courage of a drunken fool, I decided to run all the way to the 13th century castle that lies about five kilometers down a beautiful road which winds through the forest which surrounds Spannocchia.  I had never been before.

The evening air was warm and the reality of the day washed over me.  There's nothing like being exactly where one wants to be.  That's how I felt on this particular run.  When I finally reached the castle, which was much bigger and less shabby than expected, I had the distinct feeling that it was somewhere people had lived for a very long time.  I am not one to speak of spirits or ghosts, but this place was special.  I will leave it at that.  I returned home to Pulcinelli at sunset, close to two hours after I'd left.  I had a light, vegetarian dinner and went to bed early.  What a day.

"The Castle That Only God Knows"

The Sunset

Perfetto

Saturday was one of those perfect days that one can never plan but always hopes for.  The plan: viaggiamo a la costa!  Half the intern group, the half that doesn’t currently have weekend chores, left for the Florence friday afternoon and the remaining half, plus wwoofers and other hangers-around were determined to take full advantage of the sunny weather despite our chores (or perhaps because of them).  I received the “va bene” from my boss to do the animal feeding early in the day so that we could take off around lunchtime for the beach.

Finn and I set off at 8:00 to do the first feeding round.  Everything was going extremely smoothly as we hurtled around in the Falcon (the Skoda is in need of an oil change), until we got up to the mulino [mill] where we found the trashcan that holds the pigs’ grain on its side and the fence that surrounds it torn apart.  Che bordello!  I set off fixing the fences while Finn finished feeding, and then we herded the fourteen enormous hogs back into their smelly home.

We were finished at 10:00 and took a two hour break only to do the second feeding round considerably earlier than usual at mezzogiorno.  By 13:00 we were all finished and the ragazzi were out playing disc on the lawn in front of Pulcinelli (the name of the 18^th-19^th century building in which we youngsters reside) all in jorts and sunglasses.

So eight people loaded up in the van and Tom drove us to the beach, a little town frequented by Italian tourists in the summer time called Castiglione di Pescia.  The drive was 90 minutes through the Tuscan countryside.  The trees transformed from more deciduous near Spannocchia to conifers and evergreens the further west we travelled.  To our left and right stood ancient towns perched on hillsides and olive orchards everywhere the eye could see.

The town of Castiglione is rather adorbs and is named for the castle on a hill which we parked adjacent to.  As we unloaded and walked towards the beach, all in summer clothes toting soccer balls and bocce, there was a gleefulness in the air.  We were undoubtedly distinct from the Italians, many of whom were still wearing puffy down jackets despite the 70 degree weather.  Tom and I stopped for a slice of pizza, which happened to be unbelievably good and then we all spilled out onto the sand and napped, or even swam, played games and read books.

By 17:00 it was time for apperativo, so we packed up our gear and found ourselves at a funny bar that had a flat-screen displaying shuffled images of American movie posters and a stereo that was humming reggae.  We all sat and people watched in this small beach town, crunching away at the free snacks they brought us and enjoying our silly cocktails, marveling at how wonderful our lives were. 

Castiglione is full of funny little badly trained dogs that were very cute until a child ran by or another dog approached.  They reminded me of my evil dog back home—who, apparently, is flourishing.  The population was almost exclusively Italian, and most even seems like locals.  After our apparativo, il mio preferito tradizione italiano, we purchased a bottle of prosecco and hiked back up the hill to take in the sunset from a better vantage point. 

The hill below the castle next to which we settled was delightfully covered in large, happy agave plants and prickly pear cacti.  This flora formed the frame through which we enjoying the view of the Meditteranean sea in the waning daylight.  We passed around the prosecco, as I was dumbfounded once again at the blessedness of my life.  We hung out until the sky was a deep cobalt blue and then set off for one final spin through the ancient town, the castle now bathed in warm orange illumination.  Before too long we loaded into the van and set off toward the northeast.

As we motored down the Italian highway, I saw a sign for the Terme di Petriolo, the same hot springs we had visited a few weekends back and I implored Vincent, our chauffeur to pull off the highway.  After a fair amount of debate, we settled on the affirmative!  An avid lover of hot springs, and of unfolding adventures, I was thrilled. Not surprisingly, the hot springs were crowded with mysterious folks illuminated by candles and campfires.  The climb down to the pools was un po’ precarious without flashlights and deterred half of our group from going in.  The cautious part of me was thrown to the wind, and so were a few garments.

The feeling was nothing short of heaven to be in the hot, sulfuric water with a moonless sky chock full of stars.  We floated around in ecstasy for close to an hour while the others stargazed in their own clean, dry comfort.  The spontaneous of it all, the thrill of stepping outside the quotidian, perhaps even outside the realm of safety, just added to the magic of the day.

By the time we returned to Pulcinelli, all sun-kissed and wreaking of eggs, words weren’t necessary.  The eight of us shared an incredible day.  The next morning we had a delightful brunch at the fattoria (farm).