Dangerous Fields of Flanders

The last bombs of World War I fell in Flanders, in western Belgium, 92 years ago. But they're far from forgotten. Police in the tiny village of Westhoek responded to 3,000 calls in 2009 - over 8 each day - from residents who had uncovered ordnance from the Great War. Over 200 tons of unexploded bombs, shells, mortars, grenades, and even gas canisters were disposed of. This certainly seems like a huge amount, until you realize that about 720 million shells and mortars were fired on the western front in the four-year war. It is estimated that as much as a quarter of all of these never exploded. In the district of Ypres, scene of the most famous trench warfare, nearly 600 people have died since 1918 as a result of still-deadly ammunition; the most recent, only 2 years ago. In northern France they have similar experiences: just last month an entire village had to be evacuated for a week when someone stumbled onto a huge German munitions depot, where 30 tons of shells were removed in what around here is often called the "Iron Harvest." Now there's something you don't see in the States...

Siena...But Not Burnt

Ever wonder where the name of that weird brown Crayola "burnt sienna" comes from? Well, as a kid, I did. And now, here's the answer: from the fantastic Italian renaissance town of Siena. Where the 2nd "n" comes from in the crayon will have to remain a mystery for other scholars. In any case, this town lived up to all its hype and then some - it is truly a jewel in Tuscany. Smaller and not as loaded with art treasures as Florence (the post from there will be coming in a couple of days), Siena manages to maintain that 15th/16th century flavor better than her rival to the north. The view from our hotel room, for example, was of a block of houses at least 350 years old, towered over by a side view of the massive cathedral, or Duomo. There was only a handful of tourists here, making it even nicer. Evidently you do not want to be here in mid-August, with the overpowering heat and crowds. As for food: nothing short of spectacular. For dinner we had a boar stew with spinach cooked in olive oil. I tried the famed local wine, Chianti, and found it a bit powerful. One glass was more than enough. For lunch the next day, before catching the bus north to Florence, it was pizza. Like almost all pizza in Italy (and in most of Europe for that matter), thin and crispy is the rule. Not much tomato sauce and no huge gobs of cheese. It's about as far from Pizza Hut's deep dish as you can get. Fine by us!

Tongue Twister? Or Phenomenal Art?!?

Many, many years ago, when I was a camper at Kennolyn Camp in the redwoods of California, we were taught a tongue twister revolving around a single word: Piccolomini. The game was to say the word over and over, as fast as you could, to a tune which put stresses at different places. We were told this was used by disc jockeys to hone their on-air skills. Little did I know that such a guy actually existed.
Actually, it was a family of very wealthy folks in Tuscan Siena; two went on to become popes.
More importantly, a local painter was asked to celebrate the life of Pope Pius II who was, you guessed it, a Piccolomini.
And celebrate he did! This unbelievable "library" is in a small chapel in the Siena Duomo, with frescoes well over 500 years old. That's 500 years. What was going on in the U.S. back 500 years ago? Gives one pause, as they say.
This may be the most remarkable church art in the world, in a cathedral that arguably is the match of St. Peter's in Rome.
All in a little town, off the beaten path, with about 10 tourists on its streets (we represented 20% of that total)...

More Than Just a Crooked Tower

Just a 90-minute flight gets us to Pisa, gateway to Tuscany. We spent an afternoon here last week, before heading south to Siena. This is definitely the time to visit this area - you can count the number of tourists on two hands, prices are extremely reasonable, and you don't have to wait to enter any of the main sights or museums. And, seemingly as always, we had the luck of the weather gods yet again. The forecast was for 3 days of rain. What did we get? Three days of sun and marvelous clouds, as you'll see from every stop on this trip. What did we have for lunch? What else - pizza in Pisa!

Better Watch Out, Noah!

They say that all records are meant to be broken and, if I were Noah (of the Ark fame), right about now I might be starting to get a bit nervous. It started raining here in central Belgium on the evening of the 5th and has not stopped since. Oh sure, there have been pauses, but by and large it's been 7 straight days of the wet stuff - I'm guessing we've had something like 18 or 20 inches total. And today it's just more of the same. The cats are getting fed up, threatening to do nothing but sleep all day if this weather doesn't improve so they can go out. Oops - too late.

Another Painful Farewell

This time it was Feline Friend of the Family Lily, who at 18+ years finally came to the end of her 9 lives with us. She made it about a year longer than her sister Abby and, in human years, had to be pushing 90. Never the world's friendliest cat, she still was a beloved part of the family, howling and all.
One of our very favorite family moments came all those years ago in Maryland, when kitten Lily and her sister spent about 30 minutes thoroughly destroying a roll of toilet paper in a hallway, all recorded on video for posterity. But her time had clearly come and so we had to sadly say goodbye yesterday. Now she can howl to her heart's content, knowing that her sister, who must be nearby, is so deaf that she won't mind a bit. Goodbye, Lily - we sure do miss you already.

Color Us Happy!

I've been waiting exactly one lifetime for this moment. It's true: the last time the Giants won the World Series was the year I was born. And, to be as honest as only a lifetime fan could be, back in April if you had asked, I absolutely, positively would not have said that this was our year. But I guess Venus must have been in the house of Mars, or something like that.
But to be totally honest, I won't miss the alarm clock going off nearly every night for the past two weeks at times ranging from 12:30 to 2:15 AM. You wake up at 1, then head back to bed at 4:30 for all of an hour more sleep. It's like self-inflicted jet lag, for about 14 straight days.
Lack of sleep? A pain in the butt. The Giants as the World champs? Priceless!