A lot has been going on this week -- most of it citrus-based. Barbara and Sara gave us another 20 pounds of citrus fruit -- kumquats and lemons. We have made two batches so far of sweet-pickled kumquats, which are zippy enough to make your eyes water. We will not be dying of scurvy any time soon, but we may very well be done in by the homemade limoncello, which I have realized is only a very slightly upscale version of the PGA Punch (pure grain alcohol mixed with grape Kool-Aid) that was the drink of choice for all the kids during my high school days in the fabulously instructive public school system of Fort Smith, Arkansas. For instance, did you know that a combination of white vinegar and baking soda will remove both the color and the smell of grape-flavored vomit from the interior of a car? The things we learned!

I thought we were going to get the chance to bribe a public official last week. (Finally!) In his drivers-license-induced despair, Jonathan wailed to Madelena, "Is there nothing I can do?"

"Well," Madelena said, "there is one thing, but I can't say it over the phone. I will tell it to you in person." 

I got very excited by this and was quite looking forward to seeing the finesse with which the bribe would be presented. Would it be couched as a "special fee"? A "gift"? "A little something for her trouble"? We got lots of cash out of the ATM and went, rather giddy with suppressed naughtiness, to see her. 

It turned out, though, that she was merely advising us to try another office in a smaller town where they play more fast and loose with regulations. Quite a letdown. It will take us months to spend all this cash.

And, after several weeks of trying to contact our beach club, as we were instructed, to pick out our spot for the summer -- including two trips to the club itself, which seemed to be not only closed, but actually closed down and out of business -- we finally connected with our new best friend, Paolo, who has put us in Spot #10 for June, July, and August. Before and after that, it is apparently a riotous free-for-all, although Paolo says he will be happy to bring us chairs wherever we manage to land. 

Our neighbors in Spots #9 and #11 are also there for the whole season, so I guess we will be making some new friends.

After four days of sunshine, a storm is blowing in tonight. Already we can't see the sea.

The boys were fractious and discontented down at the pub -- displeased at the changes that have happened down in town, displeased at the useless shops and restaurants that displaced the artists. The fascist government, in their war against the local foliage, have trimmed back the formerly lofty and gracious gracious trees that lined the Via Apua, killing (they say inadvertently) many of them. Valerio served us some snacks of a strange vegetable and when the boys asked where it was from, he said, "Via Apua." We all laughed ruefully. Nonno and Mirio sat next to each other and I watched their faces, so similar, while we talked and knew that we won't have them much longer.

We have given up hope of Jonathan's driver's license ever coming from the office in Lucca and today began the process all over again at what is apparently a friendlier and more relaxed office in Massa. The people working in it, when we went by today, were indeed friendly and relaxed. But everyone is friendly and relaxed at the beginning -- it is the bait that keeps us optimistically biting on the bureaucratic hook.

We have made limoncello from Sara's lemons now and I continue to work on the pictures for my tarot deck. The flowers are a riot on the hillside. We swim up the Via Capriglia in them.

There is a total solar eclipse going on right now in the US. Here in lovely Capriglia-by-the-Sea, the sun as it set into the sea was completely, weirdly white. So pale that we looked right at it. We're maybe not the sharpest cheddar on the cheese plate.