pipistrello is my favorite word.

So the rain has come. And with it the funghi. And with the funghi, the old men and women walking slowly and purposefully through the woods and meadows with their baskets.
The house has been full the past 2 weeks, with Iris's parents and weekend guests and friends - a thoroughly pleasant dance of work and food and drink and language and stories. Both Gianluca and Iris, as well as Iris's parents, have all worked for the International Red Cross at various times over the past 20 years. It seems that they have been on the ground of nearly every major conflict during that time - Croatia, Somalia, Israel, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Kosovo, etc. In fact Gianluca declined an offer to go to Yemen last week because the solar panels weren't yet finished. Incredible stories, told over the dinner table in about 5 different languages. Maybe a seed has been planted for future adventures.
Other than that, I am completely geeked out on the cows here - all sleek muscle and horn and contemplation. I can watch them endlessly. And little surprises like an early Sunday morning walk up to a foggy neighboring village just in time for church to finish - out come the old ladies, arm in arm, huddled together in the grey, practically waddling down the winding street while the fog settles in the valley.

Italia

I just remembered that I was keeping a blog, so here I am. That’s not exactly true. I’m just not using computers all that much, so I forgot a little about updating.
We’ve been in Italy for three weeks or so, having spent our first two weeks at San Michele-Tre Marie, an enormous farm in Breda di Piave, not too far north of Venezia. I was initially attracted to the place because they are a well-established biodynamic farm, started about 20 years ago by the anthroposophic community of that area. I’m not even sure of the exact size of the place because they have several disconnected plots, but we’re talking several hundred acres (this includes both the land in Breda, which grows annual vegetables and in Conigliano, which raises dairy cows, grapes, and olives. It is home to a Waldorf school as well).
Farming at that scale is remarkable to see, really. I’ve never quite had the experience of planting literally tens of thousands of seedlings in a few hours. Of course everything is mechanized, so it doesn’t feel like farming; it’s something more akin to factory work I guess. What a paradox to see endless rows of vegetables, but not really sense any aliveness. Biodynamic or not, (and I’m still unsure as to whether I could call this farm truly biodynamic), I just can’t get into anything at that scale.
Thankfully, Calder and I were able to spend a few days in Conigliano to do the prosecco harvest. Whereas Breda di Piave is almost mind-numbingly flat, Conigliano is in the mountains. It’s not a place that can handle such intense row crops and so it grazes gorgeous dairy cows and grows beautiful grapes. The three days of the prosecco harvest were about as lovely as it gets - clipping fat clusters of grapes all day with old Italian men; mid-day picnics of cheese and prosciutto sandwiches, apples, and coffee; beautiful views in every direction; a long lunch of pasta and wine when we finished the harvest. If there had been more work there, we would have gladly stayed. Alas.
As of last week we are at an amazing farm in Albareto, not far from Parma. Iris, who runs the farm with her husband Gianluca, is a no-nonsense Swiss who is built for shot-put and can transition between German, French, Italian, and English easy-as-pie. It’s wonderfully diverse here - cows, pigs, and sheep for meat; chickens for eggs; soft fruit and vegetables; preserves; herbs; a distillery; a nursery; lodging. They have volunteers year-round, but other than that, it is just the two of them brilliantly managing this place.
The work has been really mellow. Calder has been helping Gianluca build and install a huge solar hot water array, and I’ve been doing quite a bit of harvesting and processing. We have the afternoons and Sundays off for hiking or walking down into town for gelato or taking the train into a neighboring village - all of which seem impossibly charming. We intend to be here about three more weeks and then continue zig-zagging our way south.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible two weeks ago, but Fall is definitely here - our second of the year, which means we are spoiled for sure.