Venus in Venice: The Goddess of Love's Dinner Party

<splash>

littlek floats on a raft of lemons in a sea of champagne. She looks up and sees someone new...... She does her best psychedelic caterpillar impersonation (you know, from Alice in Wonderland), "Who R U?" SHe meets and greats epenthesis. "By the way, have you seen Edgar? I wanted to tell him something."

It seems Edgar has gone, we know that Eva has as well. Daggles will be away for a while, too. "Well, Epe, I'll just float here for a while, wake me if anything interesting happens!"

I'm rearranging my kitchen, need a respite. Pulls up velvet chair, smiles at Epe and littleK, cogitates about a nice glass of a specific vineyard's Vernaccia di San Gimignano, very cold, please. Perhaps some of those Mezzetti lemon & herb almond stuffed olives.

Wishing Eva a delightful trip....

<realizes she's not in the wine cellar..... backs slowly out>

<hitting>

murmuring to Mame to check the Disable HTML in this post box.....

'hitting her head on the cupboards on the way out, resulting in an egg-size lump on her head' - oh not another one, she moaned...

Look where you're going!!!!

Eduardo is sitting behind littlek, running his fingers through her hair. "Wow, it is so soft!"

Littlek smiles, "It's the champagne."

Eduardo whistles to a bird perched on a potted-lemon branch. The sound is deep, rich, loud, and wonderful. The bird cocks it's little head ad flits away. Eduardo stretches his back, stands and walks to the tree. He picks a lemon and returns to the shady spot where littlek lounges, rolling the lemon around in his fingertips.

"Tell you what, Eduardo. Let's go to the kitchen and whip up a batch of lemon pudding. We'll make enough for everyone." They leave for the cool dark interior of the palazzo.

They head for the wine cellar but are suddenly arrested by a noise. Hey - it's Osso, hitting her head on a cupboard!

Cavfancier's ghost
Guests burst into the room, opining that "Someone is roaming around the kitchen." We all amble downstairs to take a look. It's only Cavfancier checking up on the cook:

A Haunting
by Cavfancier - (Aug 28, 2003)

What noise disturbs my gentle sleep
and steals the dreams I wish to keep?
Strange sounds echo down below,
the cellar, where I loathe to go...
With candle lit, in dressing gown
I hesitantly venture down
to see what things awake me,
in fear of what awaits me.
The sound of chains across the floor,
a haunting cry, a slamming door,
are these just dreams or something more?
A flash of light across the room
broke my silent sense of doom.
Among the wine casks spirits danced
in cold pastiche of true romance,
and in the darkness one figure stood,
pale, wan, in cloak with hood.
"Ghost, what do you want of me,
to steal my dreams of revery!"
The spirit uttered just one word,
at first I thought I had misheard,
with bony finger facing me,
He uttered "Thee..."

Not again!!?

Osso decides to move to a room without eye level cupboards. Thinks.... the conservatory!






<quite a poem by Cav>

Cav
The vision of Cavfancier brought tears to everyone's eyes.

"Why are you here?" they asked.

"To remind you of my last wishes," he said.

Cavfancier pooem Mar 20, 2004

Bury me with roses
in ebony, not pine.
The roses shall remind me
of the days when you were mine.
The ebony will be the night
that I first kissed your eyes,
the roses' petals are your touch
beneath those starry skies.
In death we'll be united
as living we once were,
so bury me with roses
that I may rest with her.

More Cav
Everyone sighed, not dreaming we would need to gather roses so soon.

"Cav", they asked, "did you know you had so little time left?"

Cav paused and replied:

Time is a thief in the night, stealing youth,
futures bright, ambition curtailed, derailed,
callous spirit drained crouches in the cold
corners of shadow. The mirror reflects
the pale, impaled on the lance of sorrow.
Bloodshot eyes examine you and inspire
a mission, which waits until tomorrow.
Tomorrow and tomorrow, Macbeth's harsh
judgement passed on man, on life, and on the
fleeting passing of time within a life
unlived, unexamined. In the mirror,
you find solace. It tells you "you are good,
fair, talented", and also shows your flaws
like a fatal scar. You ask "and you are...?"

The echoes left by Cav's mirage fade into the night. Guests sigh, collectively, and follow their own thoughts out doorways to the kitchen, the pool, the balconies - where ever they can be alone with their memories for but a few more moments.

Littlek wonders how Venus will feel when she returns to such sad faces. She wanders into the night to find some entertainment. She wanders the cool walkways, smells the vivid odor of the canals, dodges a pot of past water being thrown into the waters below her. Once in a while the aroma of roses, jasmine, and other fiori cover less pleasant smells. Suddenly and inexplicably, she comes across a mariachi band being bustled, quite rudely, from a ristorante. She jingles her bag of gold and beckons them to follow her back to the palazzo. They stop for tequila on the way there.

BBB

"A mariachi band? In Venice?!" Eva giggles, setting her suitcases on the bottom step of the grand staircase. "Well, and why not! I think Cav would be amused! I remember how much he liked surprises...and how many of them he provided for us himself...

"I do wish he were here. He'd know exactly what to do with all these goodies," she said, looking at the crates behind her. She has brought smoked wild salmon, raspberries and freshly steamed Dungeness crabs back from the celebration in the Pacific Northwest.

Looking around, the goddess sees the champagne pool full of guests. Osso is sitting in one of the velvet lounge chairs, rubbing her head. Eva offers her some lemon pudding.

"Thank you," Osso said, removing her hand from her aching head. "I remember the last time I made lemon pudding. I was in Rome at the time, if I have it right, or no, was I maybe reading about Rome, or perhaps I was dreaming it all... I can't quite be sure and I'm not altogether certain it's due to this egg-sized lump on my head."

Eva stared bemusedly at Osso as she rambled gently on. "Well! Time for a martini! I'm sure the yardarm's over the sun somewhere!" and she hopped up quickly from her chair, knocking the pudding into Osso's lap in the process.

And as osso rushes from the room to clean up the lemon pudding that has ruined her lovely dress, Letty returns to welcome the goddess of love back to her lair.

In her hand she carries the sheet music to two songs; one for Cav and the other for any Italian here that has skills in translation.



for Cav, Letty softy sings Beyond the Sea(one of his favorite melodies), and then presents this song to our hostess in hopes that we can discover the language in which it is written.


LUNA ROSSA
MARIO FRANGOULIS
SOMETIMES I DREAM (2002)

Vaco distrattamente abbandunato...
Ll'uocchie sott'o cappiello annascunnute
mane 'int'a sacca e bavero aizato...
Vaco siscanno e stelle ca so'asciute...


E'a luna rossa mme parla 'e te
io lle domando si aspiette a me,
e mme risponne: "Si 'o vvuo'sape,
cca nun ce esta nisciuna..."

E io chiammo 'o nomme pe'te vede,
ma, tutt'a gente ca parla 'e te,
risponne: "E tarde che vuo'sape?!
Cca nun ce sta nisciuna!..."

Luna rossa,
chi mme sarra sincera?
Luna rossa,
se n'e ghiuta ll'ata sera
senza mme vede...

Mille e cchiu appuntamente aggio tenuto...
Tante e cchiu sigarette aggio appicciato...
Tanta tazze 'e cafe mme so' bevuto...
Mille vucchelle amare aggio vasato...

E'a luna rossa mme parla 'e te
Io lle domando si aspiette a me,
e mme risponne: "Si o vvuo' sape,
cca nun ce sta nisciuna..."

E io chiammo 'o nomme pe'te vede
ma, tutt'a gente ca parla 'e te,
risponne: "E tarde che vuo'sape?!
Cca nun ce sta nisciuna!..."

E io dico ancora ch'aspetta a me,
for'o barcone stanott'e ttre,
e prega 'e Sante pe'mme vede...
Ma nun ce sta nisciuna...

"What does it mean?" mumbled a wet-dressed Osso, flicking remnants of lemon pudding towards the pool. "I seem to have forgotten my Italian. Or was that Italian? Maybe it was Spanish? Whatever it was, it sounded divine. I think I need a dish of osso bucco." And with that, she turned towards the sliding glass doors and

Hearing that, Francis smoothly says: it's a peculiar kind of Italian, the Milanese dialect.



When asked he gives the translation:

Red Moon

I walk along unthinking and alone
My cap pulled down to hide my eyes
Hands in my pockets and collar turned up
I walk along whistling at the stars that have come out

And the red moon talks to me about you
I ask if you are waiting for me
and it answers: "If you really want to know,
here, there is no one..."

And I call your name to see you
but everyone who is talking about you
is answering: "It's late, what do you want to know?
here, there is no one!...

Red moon,
who will be sincere to me?
Red moon,
she went away the other night
without seeing me...

I've had more than a thousand dates
So many and more cigarettes I've smoked
So many and more cups of coffee I've drunk
A thousand bitter lips I've kissed

And the red moon talks to me about you
I ask if you're waiting for me
and it answers: "If you really want to know,
here, there is no one..."

And I call your name to see you
but everyone who's talking about you
answers: "It's late, what do you want to know?!
Here, there is no one!..."

And I say that still she's waiting for me,
Out on the balcony tonight at three
and she's praying to the Saints to see me...
But there is no one...