The End of summer: a reflection, a pictorial

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
– Sylvia Plath

On Monday school starts. I need to catch my breath. How is it that summer is over already? After our trip to Italy in June, I was trying to find my easy pace of summer, my groove. It was not to be this year. As soon as we came home we prepared for our traditional Fourth of July visit with my cousin and her husband Tim (aka Timbuktu), which includes the Oakland A’s fireworks game, City of El Cerrito Fourth of July celebration at Cerrito Vista Park, Fourth of July feast, Alameda Flea Market, and lots of science experiments, board games, catching up, and sometimes we sneak in a hike.

Tim, Janet, and me at the Oakland A's fireworks game. Tim took pleasure in entertained us by photo-bombing the group of women in front of us.

Tim, Janet, and me at the Oakland A’s fireworks game. Tim took pleasure in entertaining us by photo-bombing the group of women in the row in front of us.

The A's lost - again - but at least the fireworks were fun!

The A’s lost – again – but at least the fireworks were fun!

We all agreed that this Fourth of July's fireworks show was the best we've seen in four years.

We all agreed that this Fourth of July’s fireworks show was the best we’ve seen in our four-year tradition.

One of the things Janet and I love to do while at the El Cerrito Fourth of July festivities is to buy a necklace from our favorite Himalayan Jewelry guy. And check out other artisan goods. These earrings are by Moon and Leaf.

One of the things Janet and I love to do while at the El Cerrito Fourth of July festivities is to buy a necklace from our favorite Himalayan Jewelry guy. And check out other artisan goods. These earrings are by Moon and Leaf.

Talented jewelry designer and Harding Elementary School mom Kristen Satzman of Moon & Leaf.

Enjoying a conversation with talented jewelry designer and Harding Elementary School mom Kristen Satzman of Moon & Leaf. You can see more of her work at http://kristinsatzman.com/moonandleaf/

Salmon and steak, potatoes and salad, and the fresh corn that Janet and Tim brought up from the Central Valley for our Fourth of July feast.

Salmon and steak, potatoes and salad, and the fresh corn that Janet and Tim brought up from the Central Valley for our Fourth of July feast.

Up bright and early for a Girls' Day at the Alameda Flea Market - our group selfie with the San Francisco skyline in the background.

Up bright and early Sunday morning for a Girls’ Day at the Alameda Flea Market – our group selfie with the San Francisco skyline and Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

Beautiful 1920s French marcasite necklace from Gypsy Road Studio, which happens to match well with the marcasite earrings from Firenze.

Beautiful 1920s French marcasite necklace from Gypsy Road Studio, which happens to match well with the marcasite earrings from Firenze.

In the summertime, Janet and I love looking at lawn art. For old-time San Francisco Giants fans - See the crazy crab.

In the summertime, Janet and I love looking at lawn art. For old-time San Francisco Giants fans – See the crazy crab.

I'm forgetting this Oakland artisan, but I loved the poems and adages burned into various found wood objects. One of my favorites - a poem by Pablo Neruda, one of my favorite poets, whom I studied while at Syracuse University.

I’m forgetting this Oakland artisan, but I loved the poems and adages burned into wood, stone, and other found objects. I immediately gravitated to this poem by Pablo Neruda, one of my favorite poets, whom I studied while at Syracuse University.

Then after they left – such a short visit this time around – we offered our home to a French exchange student for three weeks. All the while, I was trying to edit my manuscript, and then proof and go through the production phase of the book. The month of July, I think I averaged 3-4 hours of sleep. Wait, that’s normal. At any rate, every evening and weekend was filled with reading the manuscript over and over and over again. While trying to entertain our exchange student.

Isabella and I took our exchange student for a day-long walk along the Embarcadero. At Pier 27, we chanced upon a free concert by the San Francisco Symphony - lovely!

On a beautiful Sunday in July, Isabella and I took our exchange student for a day-long walk along the Embarcadero. At Pier 27, we chanced upon a free concert by the San Francisco Symphony – lovely!

Sunday brunch at Butterfly Restaurant at Pier 33. California-Asian fusion and a nice view of the Bay.

Sunday brunch at Butterfly Restaurant at Pier 33. California-Asian fusion and a nice view of the Bay.

We rarely venture to Pier 39, but I forget how spectacular the views can be, so long as you look outward!

We rarely venture to Pier 39, but I forget how spectacular the views can be, so long as you look outward!

The end-of-our-walk view of the San Francisco piers....

The end-of-our-walk view of the San Francisco piers….

And in the midst of our hosting duties, I flew out to Portland for a week for my company’s annual sales meeting in mid-July. Every time I come to Portland, I fall in love all over again. I had to edit/proof in the evenings while there, but I really enjoyed spending time with my colleagues since I only see most of them twice a year.

Downtown Portland - my view from my temporary office at my company's headquarters.

Downtown Portland – my view from my temporary office at my company’s headquarters.

Lunch outside at the The Portland Regency with my colleagues.

Lunch outside at the The Portland Regency with my colleagues.

The courtyard of my boutique hotel - the Portland Harbor Hotel.

The courtyard of my boutique hotel – the Portland Harbor Hotel.

On the menu? Of course.

On the menu? Of course.

Our company took in a Portland Sea Dogs game at Hadlock Fields. The Sea Dawgs are the Red Sox's AA team. They played the farm team of the Yankees. Classic.

Our company took in a Portland Sea Dogs game at Hadlock Fields. The Sea Dawgs are the Red Sox’s AA team. They played the farm team of the Yankees. Classic.

Normally I go to baseball games to watch the game, but I had too much fun catching up with my colleagues. Here, with Eric and Cathleen.

Normally I go to baseball games to watch the game, but I had too much fun catching up with my colleagues. Here, with Eric and Cathleen. And this is after my third hot dog! Yup, I was hungry.

One street down from my hotel, I found a true gelato place - Gorgeous Gelato!

One street down from my hotel, I found a true gelato place – Gorgeous Gelato!

I had to go to one of my favorite shops in downtown Portland - Waterlily.

I had to go to one of my favorite shops in downtown Portland – Waterlily.

The earrings on the left are made by sisters in Thailand. I had gotten a pair by them a few years ago at Waterlily. Thanks for Fay, we walked into Edgecomb Potters on the waterfront. This collective features artisans from around the country. The earrings on the left are made from vintage watch parts. I chose this very Art Deco pair.

The earrings on the right were made by two sisters from Thailand. I had gotten a pair crafted by them a few years ago at Waterlily. Thanks to Fay, we walked into Edgecomb Potters on the waterfront. This collective features artisans from around the country. The earrings on the left are made from vintage watch parts. I chose this very Art Deco pair.

More seafood, please. On the outdoor deck on the waterfront at the Porthole Restaurant and Pub.

More seafood and fresh greens, please. On the outdoor deck on the waterfront at the Porthole Restaurant and Pub.

Dinner at the Flatbread with Jack, Fay, and Mia. One last view.

Dinner at the Flatbread with Jack, Fay, and Mia. One last view.

Upon my return home, it was back to editing and proofing. My publisher Eastwind Books of Berkeley and I were a week late with getting everything to the printer. You would think that a great weight would have been lifted once Harvey, my publisher, said, no more comma deletions; we are done and you can’t touch it anymore. But all that stress over typos, commas, widows and orphan lines still resided in my upper back. One morning in August, I awoke to chest pains and after talking it over with David, we decided to be safe and head to the ER. Thankfully, at 7am on a Thursday, I was the only one who walked into the ER waiting room. No risk factors. All tests came back negative. I went home in a record two hours and yes, came back with peace of mind and stern warnings from the ER doctor and my NP and physical therapist that I need more hours of sleep. Well, okay.

The day of my ER visit, the kids, on their own initiative, made dinner and a wine cake for me. In fact, Isabella made my lunches on the weekends while I was hunched over my laptop editing. Yes, I am filled with gratitude.

The day of my ER visit, the kids, on their own initiative, made dinner and a wine cake for me. In fact, Isabella made my lunches on the weekends while I was hunched over my laptop editing. Yes, I am filled with gratitude.

After the production process, however, I dove into the marketing/promotion tasks that need to be done. So I’m immersed in that right now. Press releases. Press release list upon list upon list. Creation of postcards and posters. Approval of ads. FB author page. Twitter handle (gulp). Author website. Reaching out to academics in labor, history, Asian-American disciplines with a little help from a history professor at the University of Maryland. Scheduling reading events. Networking. It’s all exhilarating, empowering, and validating! But hard to do when you have to do it all after hours.

My friend Wendy Johnson and I attended the Stand Up for Books Comedy Night, a fundraiser for my publisher's bookstore, Eastwind Books of Berkeley (landlord raised the rent - boo-hiss) at the Oakland Asian Cultural Center.

My friend Wendy Johnson and I attended the Stand Up for Books Comedy Night, a fundraiser for my publisher’s bookstore, Eastwind Books of Berkeley (landlord raised the rent – boo-hiss) at the Oakland Asian Cultural Center. And you didn’t have to be Asian-American to appreciate the jokes, I think….

Yup, I dragged David to the Jackson Browne concert at the Greek Theatre in August. I bribed him with beer while I had wine. The last time we were at the Greek Theatre? Twenty years ago when we saw the Counting Crows with our friends John (and best man) and Tracy!

Yup, I dragged David to the Jackson Browne concert at the Greek Theatre in August. I bribed him with beer while I had wine. The last time we were at the Greek Theatre? Twenty years ago when we saw the Counting Crows with our friends John (and best man) and Tracy!

I was thrilled when Jackson Browne introduced his heartbreaking song Sky Blue & Black by saying that it was one of his favorite songs. Me too!

I was thrilled when Jackson Browne introduced his heartbreaking song Sky Blue & Black by saying that it was one of his favorite songs. Me too! His latest CD is very political, a call to environmentalism. The title song, Standing in the Breach, is about rebulding a school in Port-au-Prince in Haiti after their devastating earthquake. Browne was very proud to be a part of this school, which he says educates 2,500 students every year for free. Yup, respect him in bunches.

We managed to have some fun, though. But now school is staring me in the face. Time to be co-chair of the high school’s Investing in Academic Excellence. Lunafest 2015-2016 season will be commencing soon. Work will start getting busier. And my book comes out September 4th, with readings and events, and more marketing and promotions.

We are winding down with our season tickets for the very painful Oakland A's season. A weeknight game with the Dodgers' Kershaw on the mound versus another pitcher called up from the minors. We went. When our hapless bullpen blew a 1-1 tie in the top of the 8th, we hesitated but still stayed. First walk-off win, 5-4, in 10 innings. Nice way to end the summer - Country Breakfast (aka Mr. Double Play) getting a pie and Gatorade. My first win since Opening Day. I know, pathetic. Back to the right-field bleachers next year! Still love the summer classic.

We are winding down with our season tickets for the very painful Oakland A’s season. A weeknight game with the Dodgers’ Kershaw on the mound versus another pitcher called up from the minors. We went with great trepidation. When our hapless bullpen blew a 1-1 tie in the top of the 8th, a common occurrence this year, we hesitated but still stayed. We were rewarded: First walk-off win, 5-4, in 10 innings. Nice way to end the summer – Country Breakfast (aka Mr. Double Play) getting a pie and Gatorade. My first win since Opening Day. I know, pathetic. Back to the right-field bleachers next year! Still love the summer classic.

But would I want it any other way? Heck no. But I will miss this summer. What a memorable time we had.

The last gasp from the garden. Is this truly the last bouquet of August, of summer?

The last gasp from the garden. Is this truly the last bouquet of August, of summer?

The summer garden expires

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone.
– Natalie Babbitt, American author, from Tuck Everlasting

The day before we left for Italy, I made a bouquet for my cousin Daniel for a mid-June brunch date with my sister.

The day before we left for Italy, I made a bouquet for my cousin Daniel for a mid-June brunch date with my sister.

In August, one hardly expects a garden to expire, to be withered and barren of not only flowers but buds that are already blackened or dried. Taking a look at my garden, especially the side yard, one would think that we are in late September instead of the middle of August. Yes, the drought has impacted our trees and our garden.

When we came back from Italy, I was able to make bouquets for delivery before the 4th of July. The garden was looking great!

When we came back from Italy, I was able to make bouquets for delivery before the 4th of July. The garden was looking great!

The dahlias were big and beautiful.

The dahlias were big and beautiful.

The blooms were healthy, though the plants were noticeably not producing as much as in past years.

The blooms were healthy, though the plants were noticeably not producing as much as in past years.

In better times, over the summer, you wouldn’t be able to see the neighbor’s duplex from our row of windows in the family room because the magnolia trees would be thick with leaves. But sadly, you can see the dirty-white plaster walls. Yes, the drought is to blame, but I also planted some 20 new dahlia plants in late spring and only two plants gave me a bloom each. Surely, I would have expected them to produce and not be affected by the years of drought.

July bouquet: normally the gladiolas are done by June, but the strange weather has thrown even the plants off their normal  growing patterns.

July bouquet: normally the gladiolas are done by June, but the strange weather has thrown the plants off of their normal growing patterns.

One of my favorite dahlias had a very short season this summer. I'm glad I have a photo to remember that it even bloomed this summer.

One of my favorite dahlias had a very short season this summer. I’m glad I have a photo to remember that it even bloomed this summer.

This dahlia, too, had a short season. Normally an early-blooming dahlia, it didn't last more than a month.

This dahlia, too, had a short season. Normally an early-blooming dahlia, it didn’t last more than a month.

In my copious free time (not!), I tried to snip off the brown and black leaves to encourage the new growth that I was happily seeing on the dahlia plants. But while some are coming back and producing shiny, healthy green leaves, at some point the buds are mysteriously turning black. I can’t figure out what is happening, as this has never happened in all the years we’ve been at our home  – dating back since 1995  – 20 years!

The July bouquets still looking full.

This July bouquet was a stretch.

Beautiful pink dahlia surrounded by blue flowers and healthy-looking ferns.

Beautiful pink dahlia surrounded by blue flowers and healthy-looking ferns.

Toward the end of the surprising gladiola season.

Toward the end of the surprising gladiola season.

Each week, I wondered if I would be able to eek out two bouquets for the El Cerrito High School and Korematsu Middle School’s auction winners. The blooms got smaller, which, of course, impacted the size of the bouquets. This past week, I was lucky enough to make one small bouquet. Maybe the garden has reached the end of its season, ignoring the calendar, the mild summer with practically zero days of fog, which would have been perfect for the dahlias all season long.

The last full bouquet in late July.

The last full bouquet in late July.

Thank goodness for my neighbor's pink succulent plant to add height to the last bouquets!

Thank goodness for my neighbor’s pink succulent plant to add height to the last bouquets!

Winding down....

Winding down….

Still, I’m encouraged by the new growth of the dianthus or carnation plants. Some of the dahlias are struggling valiantly to stave off powdery mildew and keep its buds healthy. Maybe, in keeping with our strange weather and garden patterns, the flowers have it in them to push through for one last bloom. A late summer, early autumn garden.

Last week's last attempt and putting together two bouquets in the same week.

Last week’s last attempt at putting together two bouquets in the same week.

The last bloom for this dahlia.

The last bloom for this dahlia.

Wouldn’t that be something. I remain as hopeful as spring, even as I myself stave off my mourning. The last of this, the last of that. Perhaps not.

The last bouquet of the summer for the Korematsu auction winner? Stay tuned.

Is this the last bouquet of the summer for the Korematsu auction winner? Stay tuned.

My author website is live – www.pattyenrado.com

Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.
– Anna Quindlen, from How Reading Changed My Life

My author photo for my book jacket. My mom's group moms have joked that it is a "fierce" look. Photo credit to the fabulously gifted Robert Milton. Thank you, Robert!

My author photo for my book jacket. The moms in my mom’s group have joked that it is a “fierce” look, which is punctuated by my black leather jacket. Yup. Photo credit to the fabulously gifted Robert Milton. Thank you, Robert!

My last post was from our last day of our Italian holiday – more than a month ago. So much has happened since then. I still haven’t caught my breath, but it’s time to get up to speed on what’s been happening with my novel.

When we came back from Italy, I hit the ground running with endless edits and proofing. I’m still not done yet, but Monday, August 10th, is my day of reckoning. The bound galley comes in and it’s my last chance to make any changes. I think I’ve read my novel about eight times in the span of five weeks.

At any rate, all the while, I had been working with a web designer to build my author website. I’m excited to say that I launched it this past week and announced it on Facebook to some great accolades from my FB friends. I created my Facebook author page, although I haven’t had time to build it out beyond creating it.

So, without further ado, I present my author website – www.pattyenrado.com. Let me know what you think of it!

My novel ships from the printer August 28th, with arrival to Eastwind Books of Berkeley on September 2nd, just in time to bring with me to Bold Step: the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike event over Labor Day Weekend. I’ll be doing a reading that Saturday evening, September 5th, at the Filipino Community Hall in Delano, and I’ll also be manning a table for my book. Check out my website for more information and events.

Firenze day 3: Uffizi Gallery, Accademia, Galileo Museum, Duomo, mosaics, and more Clet

“One doesn’t come to Italy for niceness,” was the retort; “one comes for life. Buon giorno! Buon giorno!”
– E.M. Forster, British novelist, essayist, and short story writer, from A Room with a View

Today, Wednesday, June 24th, many shops were closed for Firenze’s holiday, which featured many events in celebration of San Giovanni Battista, the city’s patron saint. As we made a late start for the Uffizi Museum in the morning, we caught a parade where colorfully dressed ladies and men, some playing drums and trumpets and others waving flags bearing the city’s insignia, the fiorino or fleur-de-list, passed through the main streets of Firenze.

Pageantry on parade.

Pageantry on parade.

Colorful costumes on display.

Colorful costumes on display.

Drummers and buglers.

Drummers and buglers.

Renaissance ladies, I think.

Renaissance ladies, I think.

More colorful garb and flags.

More colorful garb and flags.

Waving flags toward the end of the procession.

Waving flags toward the end of the procession.

We didn’t have to stand in a long line to get in the Uffizi Gallery, which is next to the Piazza della Signoria and has its own Piazza degli Uffizi or courtyard, with wonderful statues of the great Florentines – Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Galileo, Dante, Vespucci. I only remember the major works from our first trip, but upon visiting the museum a second time I agree with Rick Steves that the museum “is not nearly as big as it is great.” Our goal in going again was to show Jacob and Isabella two things – that painting evolved from the flat Byzantine style to realism, which also included moving away from the religious focus to a celebration of humanism and Roman gods, and most importantly the famous paintings. We highlighted the characteristics of the Medieval period and then showed the kids the progression to the Renaissance periods. We pointed out Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and Allegory of Spring, and Michelangelo’s The Holy Family, which is Michelangelo’s only surviving completed easel painting. We also brought to their attention a few other masterpieces by Raphael and Michelangelo.

Botticelli's The Birth of Venus.

Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus.

Botticelli's Allegory of Spring.

Botticelli’s Allegory of Spring.

Michelangelo's The Holy Family.

Michelangelo’s The Holy Family.

A beautiful room with sculptures.

A beautiful room with sculptures.

Gerardo Delle Notti's Adoration of the Child, circa 1619-1620.

Gerardo Delle Notti’s Adoration of the Child, circa 1619-1620, which David and I really appreciated. We were in awe of the painting’s luminous lighting.

Raphael's Madonna and Child with St. John, "Madonna of the Goldfinch," 1505-1506.

Raphael’s Madonna and Child with St. John, “Madonna of the Goldfinch,” 1505-1506.

A sculpture that I really liked.

A sculpture that I really liked.

After the Uffizi, we ate lunch at a place not too far away from the gallery, Trattoria Bruzzino. David thought the food was serviceable, as did the kids, but I had a really delicate risotto (again al dente) with fresh and cooked-just-right asparagus.

Risotto al dente with asparagus.

Risotto al dente with asparagus.

The Galileo Science Museum is near the Uffizi, so after lunch we took the short walk to this museum, which celebrates the scientific inventions and the great minds behind them who flourished in Florence. From telescopes, clocks, and maps, to other fascinating inventions, this museum is definitely for the curious minded. What I found interesting was the exhibit, the Science of Warfare, which told the story of how science impacted military planning and strategy. The inventions and widespread use of firearms prompted a transformation of battlefields into “a field of geometric studies.” For example, mortars required the geometry of fortresses to be altered. Soldiers needed to know the ratio and the weight in range of cannonballs – or the precise measurement and computation operations. They needed to acquire basic mathematical principles for “the perfect management of military operations.” According to Galileo, who told noblemen who attended his mathematics lessons, a soldier should have a basic knowledge of arithmetic, geometry, surveying, perspective, mechanics, and military architecture. Interesting stuff. I ended up getting a book on the museum because trying to take in all that information was overwhelming. For a later read.

The room full of electromagnetic inventions.

The room full of electromagnetic inventions.

Yup, that's Galileo's finger....

Yup, that’s Galileo’s finger….

After the Galileo Science Museum, we still had energy and enthusiasm to go to the Galleria dell’Accademia, which is near the Hotel Giglio. Surprisingly, we didn’t have a long line to wait for the Firenze red card holders, either. Again, we’d gone here before, but we wanted to show the kids Michelangelo’s David, which never ceases to astonish and delight me, and his unfinished works, which provide a window to how the sculptor works but also how the subjects themselves are seemingly trying to free themselves from their stone prisons. Really amazing stuff. We also saw an interesting exhibit of plaster casts and watched a short video on the art of making the plaster casts.

The one and only David.

The one and only David.

A closer look....

A closer look….

Michelangelo's unformed sculptures.

Michelangelo’s unformed sculptures.

The room of plaster casts.

The room of plaster casts, an exhibit I really enjoyed walking through.

On our way to the Accademia, we saw that the line for the Duomo was quite short. To boot, we didn’t have to buy a scarf to cover Isabella’s shoulders and Jacob pointed out that nobody stopped him for wearing open-toed shoes. Bonus. We walked through the Duomo, which was pretty as many of the church interiors are. The Duomo Musuem, however, is closed for renovations as was the Baptistery.

The dome of the Duomo from the inside.

The dome of the Duomo from the inside.

The majestic Cuomo.

The majestic Duomo.

Along the way, we saw more Clet, which has become an addictive game for our family of finding his traffic sign artwork:

Clet's man in stocks.

Clet’s man in the stockade.

By the Acdademia and San Marco Square.

By the Accademia and San Marco Square.

The world on his shoulders.

The world on his shoulders.

Smitten!

Smitten!

Catching a ride.

Catching a ride.

Saw this as we were fleeing the bridge before the fireworks ended; quite appropriate!

Saw this as we were fleeing the bridge before the fireworks ended; quite appropriate!

How we felt at the end of the day.

How we felt at the end of the day.

And we also shopped. We passed by another mosaic shop, Scarpelli Mosaici (Via Ricasoli, 59r) near the Accademia, which is where we saw the same mosaic of the Duomo that we purchased 18 years ago (although the one we purchased years ago was outside of Pitti Palace). We figured it was from a template. And the price, actually, wasn’t much higher than it was 18 years ago, which is pretty amazing. We looked at ones that featured a Tuscan villa because we thought to get one to commemorate staying in a villa on our next stop. So we decided, after leaving the shop, discussing it more, and then returning, to get this one mosaic, which we are both excited to have in our home to remind us of this trip to Italy. We opted to have it shipped so nothing tragic like dropping it on the plane occurs. Later, we returned for a pair of exquisite earrings made of silver, marcasite, and ruby for me – a belated birthday present.

Our second mosaic from Florence - a Tuscan villa.

Our second mosaic from Florence – a Tuscan villa.

Drop earrings made by Scarpelli Mosaic.

Drop earrings made by Scarpelli Mosaic.

We wanted to eat our final meal at Casa Lingua, which is where David and I ate a memorable Tuscan dinner on our first trip, but they couldn’t accommodate a party of eight, especially on a holiday evening. So we ended up at another restaurant that was on the same side of the Arno River. We forgot about the famous Medieval football game that was to take place at Santa Croce Square, but we were soon reminded as the winning team and its fans, a huge group!, loudly chanted and cheered along the winding streets of Florence. We fled in the other direction. At La Mangialoia, since it was our last night, I decided to order Florentine bistecca, which is well known in the region. My beef sirloin with arugula, pears, and balsamic vinegar seemed more rare than my usual medium, but it nonetheless was a deliciously fitting end to our stay in Firenze.

Florentine bistecca.

Florentine bistecca.

David's spicy sausage and salad.

David’s spicy sausage and salad with fresh-made ricotta cheese.

Actually the fitting end was running to one of the bridges over the Arno River to watch the fireworks celebration after dinner. It was super crowded, which made me very nervous. We couldn’t really see much because we were on the wrong side of the bridge and should have been on the side of the river as opposed to a bridge. But nonetheless, we experienced Firenze’s big holiday and that was a special treat. We squeezed our way to the other side of the bridge, missing the big bang of fireworks that signaled the end of the show, but given the huge crowds, calm as they were, we didn’t want to spill out of the bridge and instead got ahead of the tsunami of people.

My lame photograph of the fireworks.

My lame photograph of the fireworks.

Running ahead of the crowd at the conclusion of the fireworks show.

Running ahead of the crowd at the conclusion of the fireworks show.

Since our next stop at our Tuscan hillside village was roughly two hours away, we decided not to leave Firenze the next day until noon, giving us a precious half-day for more museums. We wanted to squeeze in as much time in this beautiful city as we could.

A familiar site coming from and going to our Hotel Giglio - an old entrance to a farmacia on Via Cavour.

A familiar site coming from and going to our Hotel Giglio – an old entrance to a farmacia on Via Cavour.

Napoli day 2 in 10 miles: Pompeii, Mt. Vesuvius, and Herculaneum

Perhaps Mother Nature is punishing us, he thought, for our greed and selfishness. We torture her at all hours by iron and wood, fire and stone. We dig her up and dump her in the sea. We sink mineshafts into her and drag out her entrails – and all for a jewel to wear on a pretty finger. Who can blame her if she occasionally quivers with anger? – Robert Harris, British novelist, from Pompeii

We arose early Saturday morning with an ambitious agenda for the day – visit Pompeii, hike Mt. Vesuvius, and visit the ruins at Herculaneum (or Ercolano in Italian). The looming question of the day: could we trust our GPS with the British voice to take us to the right destinations in one piece and without constant recalibration? We weren’t sure once we started the car and the GPS said that we had reached our destination. We restarted the GPS, only to be instructed by the recalcitrant Brit that we were to “turn left and take the ferry.” Really? Yes, we got a good laugh out of that.

A typical house with courtyard in Pompeii.

A typical house with courtyard in Pompeii.

Pompeii: in the direct path of Mt. Vesuvius
The drive to Pompeii was about 30 minutes from Naples. By the time we got there, the tour buses and tour guides waving flags were in full force. You could easily spend a day covering the grounds of Pompeii, but we knew we only had so many hours. We started out in areas away from the main section of the city, which was pleasant because there weren’t that many tourists, relatively speaking.

A bakery in Pompeii. David said that at another bakery archaeologists found 72 loaves of bread in the oven, indicating that it was a typical day when the volcanic ash rained down on the region.

A bakery in Pompeii. David said that at another bakery archaeologists found 72 loaves of bread in the oven, indicating that it was a typical day when the volcanic ash rained down on the region.

But first a few words about Pompeii. In AD 79, within a 24-hour span, a devastating volcanic eruption from Mt. Vesuvius completely buried the Roman cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum, along with smaller settlements, farms, villas, and villages along the Bay of Naples. The poet Status wrote two decades later: “In the future, when crops grow again and this devastated wilderness blooms once more, will people believe that towns, people and estates are all buried beneath the soil?” Not in Status’s lifetime would that happen. It took approximately 1,700 years later before Pompeii and Herculaneum would be rediscovered by archaeologists.

A well-preserved fresco in a house in Pompeii.

A well-preserved fresco in a lunch counter establishment in Pompeii.

Researchers estimate that Pompeii was founded in the seventh of sixth century BC by the Osco or Oscans, but was dominated by Rome in the fourth century and then conquered and turned into a colony by Rome in 80 BC. By 79 AD, some 11,000 residents lived in the city. Discovered in 1599, Pompeii would have to wait until a Spanish engineer rediscovered the city in 1748.

A lunch counter in an establishment in Pompeii.

A lunch counter in an establishment in Pompeii.

Vesuvius had lain dormant for hundreds of years, so when it erupted it spewed not only lava but a deadly cloud of ash that rose some 19 miles high. Pompeii was unluckily in the direct path of the cloud of ash and both cities were buried when the volcanic cloud of ash collapsed. Several waves of “pyroclastic surges” – avalanches of superheated ash and gas – down the slopes of Mt. Vesuvius. While the ash covered Pompeii up to 16 feet, Herculaneum was buried under up to 75 feet of ash.

Light shining in one house in Pompeii.

Light shining in one house in Pompeii.

As morbid as it sounds, one of the things I really wanted to see were the casts of the victims who died instantly. I remember reading about Pompeii as a child and photographs of the casts made a lasting impression on me. We wandered in and out of the various houses and businesses along the stone streets, which bore ruts from the wheels of chariots. We made our way to the amphitheater, which housed several casts inside a protected structure. The Garden of Fugitives also held a number of casts. They were as fascinating as they were sobering.

A collection of casts in a big center circle in an enclosed exhibit within the amphitheater.

A collection of casts in a big center circle in an enclosed exhibit within the amphitheater.

A poignant cast of two people holding one another. You can see the mouth and teeth of the person in the foreground. This was one of several casts in a circle in the middle of an enclosed exhibit in the amphitheater.

A poignant cast of two people holding one another. You can see the mouth and teeth of the person in the foreground.

A sobering collection of casts of victims in a glass case in the Garden of Fugitives.

A sobering collection of casts of victims in a glass case in the Garden of Fugitives.

We did a loop and ended up at the main area of the ruins, where temples, large establishments, and social gathering places met. This area was overrun by tourists, whereas other sections of Pompeii were bearable. I think that when I come back, I’ll come as soon as it opens and spend more time – checking out the areas we missed and spending more time contemplating the lifestyle of the people of Pompeii and imagining what it must be like to live in such a beautiful city. While we left with much left to be seen, we all agreed that it merely means we shall return.

A panoramic view of the amazing ancient city of Herculaneum.

A panoramic view of the amazing ancient city of Herculaneum.

Herculaneum: buried under 60 to 75 feet of ash
A few people have told David that ancient Herculaneum is actually a better excavation site than Pompeii, simply because it was discovered after Pompeii and benefited from the lessons learned by archaeologists who were excavating Pompeii. We assumed our GPS led us astray again when we pulled up right within a residential neighborhood and saw few tourists outside the gates of a modest sign indicating that it was the excavation site of Ercolano. Once we got in, however, we were literally blown away by ancient Herculaneum.

The back of ancient Herculaneum. Up above is the modern city of Ercolano.

The back of ancient Herculaneum. Up above is the modern city of Ercolano.

Fresco in the house belonging to freed slaves.

Fresco in the house belonging to freed slaves.

Intact jugs excavated from Herculaneum.

Intact jugs excavated from Herculaneum.

For one, few tourists were there, and we felt as if we had a free reign of the whole site. We got there later in the afternoon, so it was cooling down ever so slightly. When you look down at the site, you see three levels of the ancient city. What’s amazing is that more excavation is taking place, and surely the modern residential structures immediately surrounding the site are sitting atop the rest of ancient Herculaneum. We did see a great deal more of this site, but I would love to come back and see the progress made by the archaeologists.

An amazing mosaic lined with seashells.

An amazing mosaic lined with seashells.

Statue head in a bath house.

Statue head in a bath house.

Mosaic tile floor of a bath house.

Mosaic tile floor of a bath house.

We entered the site by a suspension bridge. We saw fragments but also some whole mosaics and frescos in the houses. Both Raissa and David told me that Herculaneum was a more upscale city than Pompeii, and we all remarked that art was more prevalent back then within homes than with today’s residences. And their art was not mobile – it was lasting, and we are able to appreciate the numerous mosaics and frescos, many of which are intricate and colorful.

If you look closely in this house, you can see original wood beams that were charred but left intact by the hot ash and gases.

If you look closely in this house, you can see original wood beams that were charred but left intact by the hot ash and gases.

Charred but intact wooden balcony. Archaeologists found many wooden doors, door frames, window frames, and other wooden building elements throughout Herculaneum.

Charred but intact wooden balcony. Archaeologists found many wooden doors, door frames, window frames, and other wooden building elements throughout Herculaneum.

The gymnasium or sports complex on the back right-hand side of the city.

The gymnasium or sports complex on the back right-hand side of the city.

The original seashore along the Naples coast was more inland back then than it is now. It’s such an amazing place that continued to astonish when we turned a corner in a house and came upon artwork or wooden doors or door frames, window frames, and beams, which were charred by intact. I would vote for coming back to both places, and recommend both sites to any traveler venturing to Naples. I came away from Pompeii and Herculaneum with a deeper reverence for Nature and great appreciation for the engineering and beauty of the people of these two wondrous cities.

A marble frieze.

A marble frieze.

A sculpture down by the original seashore.

A sculpture down by the original seashore.

At the bottom level a group of doors open up to casts of skeletons.

At the bottom level a group of doors open up to casts of skeletons.

Mt. Vesuvius: 30-minute hike up an elevation of 960 feet is worth every step
Okay, so you have to endure the winding narrow roads up the slope, the crazy Italian drivers, the annoying humongous tour buses and their cloud of tourists. And when you stand in line, hoping that you can get in before the horde of French schoolchildren overtake you, you ask yourself: is this touristy place worth the hike?

The rim of Mt. Vesuvius. We made it!

The rim of Mt. Vesuvius. We made it!

Catching our breath at the top - David, Jacob, me, and Isabella.

Catching our breath at the top – David, Jacob, me, and Isabella.

In short answer: yes! The hike is not for the feint-hearted. We saw older people and even a woman in a brace walk up the slope, but with the sun beating down on your back and the gravelly path making it extremely difficult to get good footing, the hike is a challenging one. But we persevered to the top. I have to say that I expected looking down into a pool of molten lava, but the volcano hasn’t erupted since the 1940s and if it were in such a state, we wouldn’t be allowed at the top anyway. Once you get to the top, you look down into the giant crater and see rock formations, a deep cavern, and gases escaping from the inside of the slope.

Fog and gas at the top of Mt. Vesuvius.

Fog and gas at the top of Mt. Vesuvius.

Commemorating the ascent to Mt. Vesuvius: Nic, Raissa, Mike, and Sofia.

Commemorating the ascent to Mt. Vesuvius: Nic, Raissa, Mike, and Sofia.

The trail goes perhaps halfway around the rim. We thought it would be cold at the top, but the sun was so hot that we welcomed the fog rolling in and out so quickly. The walk down was much easier. We took the hike after our visit to Pompeii and lunch at the place where we parked. Beware! We were told that our parking fee would be waived if we ate at their restaurant. However, they tacked on a high service charge that more than negated the parking fee and then claimed that their Internet was down and we had to pay cash. While the food was decent, we recommend parking and paying, and eating elsewhere.

The rolling fog lifted now and then. On a clear day you can see Pompeii we are told, but we couldn't really tell today. But it's down there somewhere!

The rolling fog lifted now and then. On a clear day you can see Pompeii we are told, but we couldn’t really tell today. But it’s down there somewhere!

David took this photograph of a tour bus. Ah, the irony!

David took this photograph of a tour bus. Ah, the irony!

Seafood in Napoli
After Vesuvius we finished off the rigorous day with the visit to Herculaneum. From there, the Enrado-Rossi family and the DeMay family split up for dinner, with the latter celebrating Sofia’s birthday a day later at a well-known local Napolitano pizzeria famous for making the best pizza in the world. We wanted a break from pizza and pasta, and upon recommendation from our garage clerk Massimo, we ordered seafood at Victoria Restaurant by the waterfront. While I had my doubts about eating too close to the tourist area, we were not led astray by Massimo. We came to Italy with expectations of eating fantastic local cuisine, and so far overall we have not been disappointed at all.

David ordered a seafood platter that is nicely presented.

David ordered a seafood platter that is nicely presented.

Sea bass with bacon and onions. Yum!

Sea bass with bacon and onions. Yum!

This is our second night in Napoli. Tomorrow we head to the Napoli Museum to see the remains of Pompeii, Herculaneum, and another city, which were excavated and preserved in the museum, and have a leisurely walk around Napoli after today’s marathon.

Chocolate perfitteroles - it's not gelato but it's delicious just the same.

Chocolate perfitteroles – it’s not gelato but it’s delicious just the same.

A Village in the Fields: August publication, pre-order now

Sleep peacefully, for your labors are done, your pains
Are turned into tales and songs  – Carlos Bulosan, Filipino-American writer, from “Now That You Are Still”

My novel A Village in the Fields is coming out in August. So much has happened since March when my manuscript was accepted. Thus began the frenetic pace of wanting to get the book out in time for the 50th anniversary of the Great Delano Grape Strikes of the 1960s and 1970s. I am indeed cramming an eight-month process into three months, but thus far everything has fortuitously fallen into place, and that has everything to do with the people who have helped with this last leg of my novel’s journey.

My beautiful book cover, designed by Melody Shah. Archival photograph from the Lorraine Agtang Collection, courtesy of Welga! Filipino American Labor Archives, University of California at Davis Library.

My beautiful book cover, designed by Melody Shah. Archival photograph from the Lorraine Agtang Collection, courtesy of Welga! Filipino American Labor Archives, University of California at Davis Library.

The editing and revision process is near done. Laurel Kallenbach, fellow Syracuse University Creative Writing Program classmate and friend for more than 25 years, did a stupendous job of making the story much clearer and tighter, and for that, I am eternally grateful. The finished book cover is exactly as I’d imagined it to be from my original concept. Kudos to Melody Shah, lead teacher for the Information Technology Academy at El Cerrito High School, graphic designer, and my fellow committee member with the Lunafest East Bay. She created a beautiful wrapping for my novel and was incredibly patient with my false promises of this or that tweak to the design being the final change. Another friend, Robert Milton, claims that I did him a favor by becoming his sample model for portraits for him to experiment. But Robert let loose and I learned so much from him about photography, which deepened my appreciation for the art form. And he managed to make me look like a serious author.

Each step of the process of getting published brings me closer to the thrilling moment of holding something in your hand that you’ve spent many years writing bad sentences, making wrong turns, coming to the pitch-perfect word or phrase in the middle of the night that makes that sentence sing, and finally stepping back and saying, the story should go out into the world now. I’m grateful to my publisher Harvey Dong of Eastwind Books of Berkeley for his appreciation of my writing and my story.

You can read about the novel here and then go to the pre-order page on Eastwind Books of Berkeley’s website to reserve your copy of the hardback version.

A Village in the Fields: a synopsis
Fausto Empleo is the last manong—one of the first wave of Filipinos immigrating to the United States in the 1920s and 1930s— at the home for retired farm workers in the agricultural town of Delano, California. Battling illness and feeling isolated in the retirement village built by the United Farm Workers Union, Fausto senses it’s time to die. But he cannot reconcile his boyhood dream of coming to the “land of opportunity” with the years of bigotry and backbreaking work in California’s fields. Then, his estranged cousin Benny comes with a peace offering and tells Fausto that Benny’s son will soon visit—with news that could change Fausto’s life.

In preparation for the impending visit, Fausto forces himself to confront his past. Just as he was carving out a modest version of the American Dream, he walked out of the vineyards in 1965, in what became known as the Great Delano Grape Strikes. He threw himself headlong into the long, bitter, and violent fight for farm workers’ civil rights—but at the expense of his house and worldly possessions, his wife and child, and his tightknit Filipino community, including Benny.

In her debut novel, Patty Enrado highlights a compelling but buried piece of American history: the Filipino-American contribution to the farm labor movement. This intricately detailed story of love, loss, and human dignity spans more than eight decades and sweeps from the Philippines to the United States. In the vein of The Grapes of Wrath, A Village in the Fields pays tribute to the sacrifices that Filipino immigrant farm workers made to bring justice to the fields.

My author photograph by Robert Milton, portrait photographer extraordinaire.

My author photograph by Robert Milton, portrait photographer extraordinaire.

About Patty Enrado: my bio
Patty Enrado was born in Los Angeles and raised in Terra Bella, California. She has a bachelor’s degree in English from the University of California at Davis and a master’s degree from Syracuse University’s Creative Writing Program. She writes about healthcare information technology and lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and two children.

A Village in the Fields: my backstory
In 1994, I attended a local poetry reading by Filipino-American poets from the San Francisco Bay Area. One of the poets talked about a retirement village built in Delano in the early 1970s for retired Filipino farm workers who participated in the Great Delano Grape Strikes. My family moved to Terra Bella, California, in 1965, the year of the Great Delano Grape Strike. I had grown up not far from Delano and remembered the grape boycotts but not the strikes. My mother packed oranges in the winter and spring, and picked grapes in the summer and fall. My father, who immigrated to the U.S. in the late 1920s, spent most of his career as a cook, although he spent time farming when he arrived in California. Most of my father’s relatives who settled in Terra Bella also picked grapes and/or packed citrus fruit. That summer of 1994, while visiting my father and mother, I went in search of Agbayani Village. I interviewed an elderly resident, thinking that one day this information would become a story. At the time, I was looking to expand my MA thesis, a collection of stories about the Filipino community in Terra Bella that I had written while under the Creative Writing Program at Syracuse University.

In the spring of 1997, I watched the PBS documentary on César Chávez—The Fight in the Fields—and read the companion book of the same name. After seeing the documentary, I wanted to know more about the Filipino involvement in the strike. The Filipino farm workers, led by labor leader Larry Itliong, initiated the strike; however, very little was said of their contribution. I learned from my relatives that I was related to Fred Abad, the last manong at Agbayani Village, who passed away in 1997 at the age of 87, a few months before I began my research. I interviewed another distant relative who was one of the original Filipino farm workers who struck with Itliong. I spent many a weekend at the Delano Record, searching for articles on the strikes and boycotts. In January 1998, I interviewed the late grower Jack Pandol at his farm. My mother accompanied me to the interview, and as we drove by Pandol’s camp, she casually remarked that my father had once worked as a cook here, which was news to me.

After stacks of research notes and books on the subject had been amassed, A Village in the Fields began to take shape and my protagonist Fausto Empleo emerged. My novel’s journey has taken 18 years and its release comes at a most fitting time—the 50th anniversary of when the Filipino farm workers walked out of the vineyards in Delano on that 8th morning of September.