Saturday, December 17, 2016

Crazy was five hours ago
Today I woke up and showered because I had a bad feeling it was going to go downhill from there. I was right. I had made 30 of the 150 flower colored peace sign cookies for the refugees in the tents when the phone started ringing off the hook. Last night I was up until midnight messaging with a lady from South Africa who knits booties and hats and collect things. I feel like everytime I ask her for stuff she comes through, but she also always seems surprised that I distribute the stuff and I have to reintroduce myself and the concept all over again. Anyway, she is an angel. F went over to her place and picked up ten bags of donations. I got a phone call from Job saying that he needs 1700 in cash to get a new house contract signed on Monday. And then he said no problem. I said, I love you, Job, but please don't call me saying 1700 euros and no problem in the same sentence. In essence, it is not really a problem because this is the money that my mother left for them to get a new house last summer. it turned out that the only way to get Italians to accept the money is by means of this African broker who takes a hefty fee and co-signs the lease. I also fielded calls from a nice lady from the piccoli aiutanti group who was donating a huge wooden crib, but because her husband doesn't have residence inside the walls, F had to go meet him at the porta to transport it from one car to the other. 



I forgot to mention that Tina called me at 11 PM to say she had no hot water. I reminded her that the plumber I sent had installed an automatic stop valve to keep them from burning the pipes when they try to get water out of a three person pump to work for seven people. There is a restart button you can use after a thirty minute mandatory cool down time. In the morning, we learned hot water was still not coming out of the pipes so I had to speak to all the Italian handymen in my phone to try to get F instructions and answer his bilingual questions. 

I snarfed down some tofu and grabbed my bags so that we could stop at Cool and Jennifer's house on the way to pick up baby Peace for her doctor's appointment. Unfortunately, the mosquitoes were in full effect still at their residence in December. Jennifer's sister-in-law is due to have her baby in less than two weeks. It broke my heart that she told me she was hungry and asked me for food money. I got a bad feeling in my stomach, so I asked her if she had made arrangements to have her baby at the hospital. We learned when Peace was getting ready to be born that you must open a file called a cartella at the hospital or a pregnant African mother could find herself bounced from emergency room to emergency room before she will find a bed to have her baby. Jennifer and her sister-in-law are apparently not on speaking terms so they did not share the information. I was so mad. We took photos of her documents so that I could make inquiries for her. Jennifer had told me that she wanted me to go to the emergency room for baby Wisdom today, but when I got there, he seemed to have a cold with a cough. He doesn't have a fever or even that scary bark of a cough that babies get that can meaning whooping cough. Cool had to convince her not to call an ambulance at night because he wasn't sleeping and her pediatrician isn't in the office until Monday. I don't know. 
 

Then we got to baby Peace's current house. It was filled with people preparing food for the baptism tomorrow. There were chicken parts everywhere. Some of them ended up in these big metal cookers that look like they belong in the Ghostbuster laboratory. Who knows what the neighbors think about those big vats, bubbling over in the driveway on there little lane. I scooped up baby Peace from a friend of the family, took the remaining donations for Emmanuel's son Precious and the other kids out of the car, and we set out to the hospital for the appointment. When we got to Pistoia, the obstetric department had no record of an appointment, and the same for the pediatric appointment. Then some nurses piped up. It turns out that Job had misunderstood his end of the Italian phone conversation and they were invited not to come to a doctor's appointment, but to a Christmas party. When I bumped into the cross-eyed lady at the hospital who takes care of the burocratic side of opening the files for expecting women, I knew that the Universe had sent me there for a reason. The nice nurse who had helped deliver Peace gave me a phone number to call on Monday to get the pregnant lady an appointment before her water breaks. 



some macbeth style curry chicken




Then we came home for twenty minutes, turned around, and went back out to see a play at T's school that my English student was starring in. She is a very good actress. It was the Trojan women, which involves a lot of hysteria. I understood a total of 27 words, but not in any particular order. It was like Menopause: The Play.
   

Then when we got home, I decorated the other 85 cookies, and illegally streamed The Young Pope because Courtney insisted I see it. I much preferred Jude Law when he didn't let it all hang out back in The Room With A View days, but I am a real light weight when it comes to fiction. Sex and the City, to give you an idea is the level of angst that my emotional reserves can handle as far as recreational entertainment is concerned. I save the heavy stuff for my unpaid day job. 


made with love

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