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Tuesday 15 November

Woke up at 7, went back to sleep. Woke up just now at 8:30 the second time. This is the day: six hours and a bit to clean up, pack, and give the apartment back. I weigh 175½. Partly cloudy but looks like a good walking day. Leg basically does not hurt.

4:10 P.M., still in the apartment, sitting at the diningroom table stripped of its plastic tablecloth now scrubbed and slung over the side of the tub; washing machine running the apartment's towels; dishes washed, bathroom cleaned, bed stripped and the sheets at a drycleaner's across from S. Fortunato and paid for in advance; and almost all the leftovers eaten: not terribly good for my weight, but I can't bear to waste food. For the record, 4 jars of jam is too much (1⅔ are left) and there's no point in my trying to conform and have breakfast like other people, fette biscottate are dull and I don't eat them: quindi, left some. For lunch in fact I went and bought some "tartufi pregiati" — "prezzati", rather: yes, they're black inside rather than the scorzone that are beigish — but $30 in three truffles in a plate of strongozzi and I still prefer garlic, which is cheaper. Also bought 4 tomatoes as part of the festal celebration and a bottle of Torgiano which surprisingly downed all with no ill effects.

Renata and Oreste came by and did the accounts at 3 — I got 350 ML back, roughly; but I asked about the 800 ML versus 900 ML rent, and Renata said it was a mistake when she said it was 800, but tant pis — I insisted, and gave her back 100 ML. Much protesting of coming back to Umbria etc. — I'm in the apartment another couple of hours while wait for Linea C around 6:10 — and I am going to have to buy a suitcase as feared — all the photographs, books, and clothes. . . .

So — out, suitcase; post office; and pack —

5:25; bus at 6:19; I'm packed — the essentials are fine — only the computer is still out and plugged in, my other brain. I'm stuffed from all that food; still, I was one pound below target this morning.

I sent the pictures to my Sacramento ladies; and some clippings to [. . .] .

Washing machine been running for hours, as usual.

I omitted mentioning the ceremonial burial of the shoes; at a bit past 10 I was dressed, with my new shoes on, and carrying my sneakers, tied together, and one of Renata's steak knives, and walking to San Giàcomo. I actually took off both my sweatshirt and my T‑shirt at the Consolazione: it was not warm enough for it, but this was for old time's sake. At the crucifix on the path to S. Giàcomo, about 40 yards away round a bend from some workers mixing concrete for the new monstrosity in the fold of the hill, I buried my sneakers, rather shallow I know, but I felt a bit nervous since those workers were so near and this would, of course, look suspicious. . . Much like in Soulier de Satin; and I was not limping exactly but favoring my left leg — I'd considered wearing the sneakers down to the crucifix and then changing them: but I'd tied them together on the train last nite.

(I'll save the analysis of Todi for the long plane ride back; obviously it was good and I'm thankful.)

Misread a schedule; thank goodness to no effect other than a long immobilized wait outdoors with my luggage; the connection in Terni is still the same and I still get to Rome at 9:40 P.M. The bus leaves at 7:09 in fact, whereas I thought it was 6:19; it's 6:24 and I've been sitting here for some time, and will sit for some more. Thus, typically, ends my stay in Todi —

Rome, Hotel Valle, just past midnight. Insomnia I guess. Finally a little (5 centiliters) whiskey and soda [. . .]

Also, out of sheer willpower, did 30 pushups this morning, thus before leaving Todi, as was my goal. Only 23 situps and not good, but because of the sores on the tops of my feet — no real problem [. . .]

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Page updated: 7 Dec 20