A very nice young man came with a brand new tractor and cleared the two feet of snow from our quarter-mile driveway. I called him this morning. This is an activity that Franco has always helped us with -- but no longer can because of poor health. Francesco, the young man, mastered the art of dodging the cement mixer, the new floor tiles ( now looking like a ski mogul in the driveway), and the other construction related materials. Good kid. Thank God.
All day, I have tried to be philosophical about the snow. One of our neighbors, Bepe, said that in his 68 years, he had never experienced a winter like this one. Ice cold, high humidity, and 40 centimeters of snow on March 10th, when we should be planting potatoes.
I am beginning to get a little reticent when I hear these "never before in my lifetime" stories. Last year, I heard that statement snowstorm after snowstorm. Setting records with weather is beginning to make me weary. If we were just here to relax I would put another log on the fireplace and snooze. But we are deep into construction, as we are every winter, with deadlines looming.
So I do what I can do. I make art, frame posters, try not to drag too much dirt into the living room. Micha carts the wood up, keeps the house warm and researches new wineries. There is an overwhelmingly long list of more important things to do, but once again, today is not the day any of those things are going to happen.
Is this all happening to tell me something? Oh, come on, I realize that world weather patterns are not all about me.
Today one of the other ladies that has a project like ours, a wonderful person who is positive in her outlook, told me that she was going to give herself permission to be very sad today about the weather. I can understand. We all really try to stay positive when we are shoveling you-know-what against the tide. The tide today feels like a tsunami as we dig ourselves out. It's humbling.
But let's just go with the assumption that the weather is all about me for a moment. Indulge me, please. What am I supposed to be grasping from the series of mini-disasters that have been this renovation project so far?
That I can't control everything?
That everything has its time and process regardless of what I may think?
That it really does not make a lick of difference how much I worry -- things are going to happen however they are going to happen anyway?
The thing about glitches in the road is that those tend to be all we remember. The potholes. When the road is smooth, we just don't register it. We get complacent about things when they are going well.
So let me remember what has gone well concerning this project in the last year:
We have stayed healthy.
We had great guests last season who really "got" what we were all about.
I found a good builder who is fair and gets the work done. I like the guys who are working here right now.
I found good floor tiles, really nice ones, for a fair price (whew). The same with the bathroom fixtures and window treatments.
I have been able to make new art.
We have a stunning wine cellar, and will have an exceptionally nice new room. Nicer than I could have imagined. Really.
So, this stupid spring snow storm will pass, and we will turn from Siberia back to beautiful Piemonte. I know it is a matter of days, not weeks, until I see the budding trees spraying a haze of green all around me. It's really, really, REALLY right around the corner.
But for the rest of today, I am going to snooze....