The heavens opened up last night and thunderous rage echoed the city sky. The gods are here and they are very angry, I thought while still somewhat asleep. My next thoughts- I wonder what people do here regarding mud slides or floods? I then quickly prepared a few escape routes in my mind. Another loud boom, the loudest I've ever heard, followed by sheets of rain and then no power. As far as the eye could see down either side of my street nothing but total darkness. City sirens began to sound.

I waited to see what the natives did in such a situation. Many where looking out their windows like me. It had to be about 3am. Moments that followed were a bit tense and disconcerting until all of a sudden there was the sound of a gentleman screaming at the top of his lungs while running through the streets..."Che Bella Piove! Bella, Bella, Bella Piove!" (What beautiful, beautiful rain!) After this display of pure joy, anxiety ceased. I returned to my bed and lay in the pitch black thinking this is in a nutshell what I like most about Italy. It's people. They love every moment to the fullest. They truly enjoy life. A potential problem ... they see as pure pleasure. A good way to live, I think. Si, il mio amico...e bella, bella piove quando in una bella vita. (It is beautiful rain when in a beautiful life.)

Soon the power returned and lit our ways back through neighborhood streets and alleys and the light in me, to remain always positive, did too.

The next noise to wake me was church bells ringing at 8am. They were clearly chimming out, 'you should be in church, you should be in church.' I should have been but my bed was also coaxing me at that same time with what sounded like, 'rest my darling.' And I love it when my bed sweet talks me.

Yesterday evening I met Gilberto who was happy to spell out his name for me as well as draw me several maps to good locations he finds to jog, 'most pleasureable,' he said. One place he finds is Circus Maximus. (Circo Massimo) Yes, the very one... where '6th Century BC ago' the fifth king of Rome built the track where chariots raced in circles and that is visible today between the Palatine and Aventine hills. Where the history of Romulus, the first of seven kings in this city, is also intertwined starting these events for his pleasure. Yes, the same Romulus you read about who was nutured by the wolf mother and who killed his brother Remus. The very same bambinis you see in store windows every day con il lupo. (with the wolf) Yes, this is the exact same history that you are now thinking about making your present. INCREDIBLE!!! Of course amazing history is everywhere here but sometimes it just creeps up and hits you in the face when you're not even expecting it like this...well, maybe I'll go jog around that famous 'Circus' area over there. Meraviglioso!

So while drawing maps and telling me about his life and where to jog, Gilberto also toasted sandwiches, prepared drinks, performed intricate tricks with his tonges and, overall, was like watching a play in motion. He went in and out of different characters acting out people he knew that the regulars, standing there, also knew. We all laughed at his immitations. Perhaps Signore Gilberto missed his calling to be an actor. I can easily see him on stage playing a comical version of Hamlet using his tonges as his sword.

A gal nearby I notice simply because her outfit is bellisima. Though she is a bit older she is dressed to the nines in white fishnet stockings. They go beautifully with her assemble and are tastefully complimentary. I make a mental note, I will still be wearing fishnet stockings when I am her age too.

Ciao tutti. A domani!