Old Rome lives and is the same. In particular, my glove lady and M. le Damiani can be found at their respective shops. A year and a half ago, I purchased the loveliest pair of kid gloves from an 80-year old woman in Roma. Her shop is down the street from La Feltrinelli’s bookstore and is just a sliver of a shop, maybe 10 feet wide. She has leather gloves stacked to the ceiling but always pulls out just the right pair for me. She was there yesterday to my delight when I bought a warm pair of black leather gloves. I suspect we’ll return there soon because Bill couldn’t find his leather gloves. He told her that in Italian to which she replied back that gloves should wear out but never be lost. There is another Roman proprietor with whom I exchanged smiles when we lived here before. I do not know his name but my guess is that he owns the Damiani shop on the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. He is a distinguished elderly gentleman, tall with white hair, who often stood at the threshold of his shop watching the people walk past his store, people who never entered the door; the clothes are pretty pricey. He always appeared to have a scowl on his face. I didn’t like his scowl, so I began to smile at him whenever I walked by. He began to smile back to me. On my last visit I didn’t see him and had feared he had either passed away or had grown too old to tend to his store. Last evening, however, at 8:00 pm I saw him close up shop. I was happy to see him although he didn’t see me.
Today Bill and I walked all over Roma. Our first stop took us to the Church of St. Catherine of Siena, a baroque church less than 100 yards from where we are living. We joined a little tour of the church. Our daughter, Catherine, is named after this saint. We miss you, Catherine. Next it was on to the Villa Borghese. It was a splendid day—high 70s or low 80s and not a cloud in the sky. We’re living on the Via Giulia, in centro, so it was quite a hike to the gardens. We had small sandwiches and l’acqua frizzante or fizzy water. The bill was twice what we expected because we sat down at a table. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful day to eat al fresco (we were still outside) and to listen a saxophone playing in the distance. After we left, we ventured down the Via Veneto, a street incidentally Bill would like to live on or near. It reminds me a little of Paris and a little of Park Avenue in New York. From there we walked to the Coppede' Quarter. For those who know Davide, this is where he lives. It is a designed neighborhood built in the 20s, as I recall. We have only seen it at night and it was a perfect day to enjoy its eclectic and playful architectural elements. We entered the Quarter through a monumental arch were numerous gee-gaws, including a grand chandelier, typify the eye candy that is apparent throughout the neighborhood. Wrought iron rooster security bars on ground-level windows playfully, yet seriously, protect one of the buildings from trespassers. At the center is gay little fountain with carved frogs. There was a tour of the neighborhood in process but it was in Italian so we walked on. Next we headed down the Via Nazionale past the Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II and the Campo dei Fiori towards the Via Giulia. Since we missed Mass at our favorite church, San Andrea della Valle, we had intended to go to our backup church, Santa Maria dell’Orazione e Morte, or as Billy recalls “the church of the dead” (the capitals are skulls, davvero) for the 6:00 pm Mass. We miss you, too, Billy. On the way, we passed a little church on the Piazza Farnese where the nuns wear the oddest veils. The bells were just ringing with glee. It was 5:20 pm. Mass was scheduled to start in 10 minutes. We went inside and were treated to the most delightful chapel with a gilded niche behind the altar. White lilies and purple and white flowers adorned the altar. Mass lasted only 40 minutes, proving that Mass doesn’t have to be long to be good. Surprisingly, I understood a fair amount of the Mass and of the homily. Apparently, singing along to Andrea Bocelli CDs while in the tub have paid off!
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