While Grace is off in Monte Carlo scouting celebrities, GP and I finally got around to our anniversary dinner Friday night.  (Only 2 weeks late.)  We went to a restaurant in the hills that's below a monastery for Cappuccino monks.  Cappuccino means "hood wearing" and the cream on top of a cappuccino coffee I suppose is like a hood?  The monks are famous for their singing and practice most evenings, with their Gregorian Chants echoing out over the gardens where the restaurant sits.  Alas Friday night they took a break.  I was disappointed that I missed the singing but dinner was good and the view was great out over the city.

It's just about a year since the huge night celebrating our friend Riccardo's birthday that wiped me out for a week.  Last night we were back at it but this time I took pains to be prepared.  We got up early yesterday and went for a long walk in the mountains.  I thought the fresh air and exercise, followed by a nap, would help with the late hour I'd be getting to bed.  Once at dinner I placed two bottle of water in front of me for easy access and alternated water and wine all evening.  The food this year was yummy while last year I didn't like the menu, so this time around I had enough in my stomach to absorb most of the alcohol.  Alas not enough.  Woke up with a headache this morning that even with 2 aspirin, a pot of coffee and some dry toast is only now, (noon), going away.  How do these people do this?

Let me first tell you about our day in Pragelato.  This is the place where we go snowshoeing and Grace skis.  The town borders a national park call Val Troncea.  On the way up in the morning we stopped in one of the little mountain villages to get some breakfast, (coffee and hot, sugary apple turnovers).  There were 4 old guys in the bar drinking God Knows What at 8 o'clock in the morning. They reeked of alcohol and cigarettes.  There was a little display of magnets with Piemontese, (the dialect spoken around here), sayings on them on the counter.  One I especially liked was "A piss without a fart is like a violin without a bow".   These rural folk are a classy and gentile people....

The day was bright and warm and so our walk was wonderful.  We were practically the only people there as we only passed others in the very beginning and very end of our trek.  The high fields were speckled with cows and old campers where the cowherds live when they take their animals up to their summer pastures.  There was one very frustrated cow blocking our way at one point as she wanted to follow the hiking trail but it was blocked by a temporary fence to keep the animals in.  She stood there and mooed and mooed.  These are LARGE cows and I wasn't sure we'd get by.  Finally she got bored and wandered off giving us a mournful parting look.  We also saw a bunch of marmots hopping in and out of their holes.  They are so cute!  So we walked for about 3 hours up and one plus down, stopped to buy some local cheese and were home to nap and shower by 3.  It is very nice to be so close to the mountains.

We left for the evening at 5:30 because we had to stop and buy some wine for the grandparents who are running low, God forbid,  and a couple bottles as a thank-you gift to the friends who took Grace with them for the weekend.  We met up at the restaurant at 8 and knew we were in trouble when Riccardo brought in 20 liters of wine.  That's about 26 bottles.  He had booked a room in this place and there were 18 of us with others popping in and out.  I don't know most of them and as they speak Piemontese when together, I don't understand them either.  I was sitting by Riccardo's girlfriend though and she's from Milan, (practically a foreigner), so I talked to her before the music began.  Riccardo considers himself a musician.  He plays the piano and the accordion and his buddies play guitar and and piano and they all sing.  They get together and sing traditional Italian and Piemontese songs and have a grand ole time.  The only song I recognized was "Volare".  With everyone singing and holding up their glasses, rocking side to side I felt like I'd stepped into an old Italian movie.  At about 12:30 we left and they might still be there for all I know.  These dinners are a weekly occasion for all those people.  Why the aren't dead is beyond me.

My headache has now subsided enough for me to go do some pruning in the garden.  GP thought it would be very funny to use the power hedge trimmer right outside our bedroom window earlier.  It wasn't funny.  xxoo me