Umbertide

25 December 2014

Merry Christmas

   I'm in Italy. The nearest town of any rank is Umbertide. Before I came, I told two of my students—young ladies FROM Italy—that I was going to /Oom-bear(like the Grizzly)-tide(like the rise and fall of the sea). They politely smiled with no comprehension. I didn't pursue the matter. Yesterday, on the way home from the train, the owner of the house said it was pronounced, UN-intuitively, /oom-ber-ti-deh/ (I think) The name sake was a dude by the name of Umberto.
I'm not sure of the pronunciation because yesterday in the town of Perugia, I had to take several stabs at it before I resorted to writing it down before anyone knew what I was saying. Often, I would say /Oom-bear-ti-deh/ and they would smile and say, “Sorry, no English.” “Right,” I thought, “I'm not speaking English, can't you tell?”

The greatest part about the house is the cat. A long-haired, thing with a big tongue named, Penny. Her hair is long and black, and the house uses lighting economically; therefore, if you don't look closely, you can't tell where her head is, or where her arms begin, or even if you are looking at a cat or a Russian fur hat.

    Before I arrived, the owners of the house said we would need to care for the dog, a G. Shepard named, Heidi, and a deaf cat that is slightly brain damaged. On the way from the train station, I asked the owner, Tom, how they could tell that the cat is brain damaged—most cats seem to be a bit brain damaged. His only response was that when they found her, Penny couldn't keep her head up and wasn't expected to live. Well, she has, and she is friendly, fat, and happy. The most amazing part about her is when she licks herself. Maybe all long-hairs do this, but she throws her head back, thrusts out her pick tongue and does a long swipe of whichever area she is working on. The enthusiasm is nothing less than an 8-year-old searching for X-mas presents on December 24. She's also young enough that from time to time, she goes a bit nuts and flips and flops around. Tom's wife said she always lays on HARD surfaces rather than pillows and such. I've found her several times sitting on top of the printer. She likes the kitchen table, too. Once, she had one of her insane moments while doing a Garfield with her paws on a package of crackers. Tom apologetically said that she likes to lay on the kitchen table—“there's not much we can do about it.” I'm sure that isn't true, it's simply not a big deal if the cat lounges on the kitchen table. I'm sure that if they were to clap their hands and shove Penny onto the floor a couple times, even though she's deaf and brain damaged, she'd get the message. Oh, wait! If she's deaf, she won't hear. BUT we have seen her react to events—maybe just the change in air pressure or whatever. After all, in the absence of one sense, the others become more sensitive.

    My computer was stolen in Rome, so yesterday, I bought a new laptop. I'm trying to figure out the new Windows OS and it's a pain the rear. I'm writing a bit now...to fulfill the running part of this blog, I will say that I ran 24 minutes yesterday and 29 minutes today with Heidi.

I love animals.