It is fall here now -- still blue sky-ed and warm, but the persimmons are starting to turn orange up in our persimmon tree and the famous Tuscan porcini mushrooms are in season. Lots of people around here go out early in the mornings to hunt them up in the woods. People have secret favorite haunts and regular spots where they have had luck in past years. Caterina at the pub is famous for always coming back with a big haul whenever she goes out hunting them. Given that the deer-hunting season has also begun and we regularly hear gunshots from the woods, also early in the mornings, I have decided to skip that step of the process and just purchase porcini at the market, where they are fat and plentiful.

I posted this picture on Instagram of me holding one. Then the next time I was in the pub, one of the boys said, "Hey! I saw that you found a really big mushroom!" "Yes," I said, "I found it in the market." The boys all laughed appreciatively. My reputation for hopeless ineptitude remains intact.

The party in honor of Leo's memory happened last Sunday night. Literally half the town of Capriglia was there and Daniele and Alice raised a gigantic donation for cancer research. I only cried once. "No," Almo said, "Last week, we cried. This week, we celebrate the joy of his life."