Gatherings.

We've had a nice week-end of events with the family. Saturday we celebrated our young cousin Giacomo's 14th birthday, along with some of the Casali's neighbors and friends, at the oft-frequented Pizzeria Europa on the beach in Lido di Camaiore. The Casali's downstairs neighbors seem to be especially nice people, with a handicapped son and an exceptionally cute young daughter, all of whom understand English to a large degree, having lived abroad for a while. Despite the on-and-off rain, we had a lovely evening which lasted until nearly midnight.
Sunday virtually the same family group as attended our picnic at the farm re-convened for lunch at the country home of cousin Franchesca and her husband Gianni. This house was perched very high on the hillside, in a small village in the Garfagnana; it had been a residence and studio of Franchesa's father, who had been a sculptor of some repute, and was now being restored after some years in a state of near-ruin. The family ate at long tables assembled in the large downstairs room, surrounded by a small library of old books, many of which were Italian interpretations of Marxist political theory (someone joked that Nancy and I wouldn't be allowed to take any of these back through U.S. Customs; we might have argued the point, but limited language skills precluded this - just as well.) Franchesca's family, as we have known for some time, are or have been members of the Communist Party since the war. That party, now just a small force in Italy politics, regularly embraces ardent pacifist and liberal social welfare issues, and so could be considered similar to the far left segment of the democratic party in the U.S.
Young Giacomo had certainly become the subject of much attention from his younger cousins - all, save one, girls - who seemed to be making a sport of deciding which of them might make him a suitable bride. Giacomo, for his part, dutifully resisted (or made appearances to resist) these advances, as befitted his station.
After the meal a group of us went for a climb up the church for a look-see at the small church and cemetery. This adventure ended somewhat badly, as Luanna received a very bad gouge from an iron cross that was at shin level: it was not serious but enough blood showed so as to her feel faint, and to panic her daughter Isabella a bit. We held her a a comfortable position there, lying in the cemetery (I don't think the irony was lost on anyone) and waiting for the volunteer ambulance from the Misericordia to take her down the hill to have a few stitches.