But even getting there at 8:30 she was just getting up. She was a little pooped from yesterday, but decided she didn't want a shot today, she would see how the day was without one. More self-tapering off the pain meds. This woman would never be an addict.
It reminds me of my Grandma Ilene. She had a tremor that made her hands shake very badly, her head as well, and created a shaky timbre to her voice. Think of Katharine Hepburn and you have a good picture. It wasn't Parkinson's but I'm sure people who saw her thought it was that. It was a pretty early onset, became noticeable at some point in her 50s. I don't remember a time when she didn't have it and grew very pronounced as the decades progressed. In the 80s a doctor “prescribed” that she soak a jar full of golden raisins in gin and have a handful daily. It did soothe the shakes temporarily. Or she would also make the weakest “cooler” with white wine and diet 7-up. But then she worried about becoming an alcoholic. Grandma worried about everything there was to worry about and would worry if she wasn't worrying about things enough she didn't even know to worry about. She was just like that. Even in her last years, she avoided pain medications because she didn't want to become an addict. In her last weeks, when my father and I were caring for her with end-stage cancer and he would pull out the compounding cream with morphine the rub into her forearms and ease her pain she would balefully look into his eyes and shake her head a little as if saying “not too much.”
Mamma reminds me so much of Grandma Ilene. She spent her life doing everything for others yet it is so difficult to let others do for her. It's her identity, doing everything for her family.
I took shortcuts and used jarred sauce for a pan of lasagne, but I doctored it up quite a bit. Added sausage, red wine, onions and rosemary for a depth of flavors. One thing I love about the grocery stores here is you can buy besciamelle sauce right in the dairy case. Saves so much time when slapping a lasagne together. The soup came together nicely as well. They now had at least three days of meals with this batch of food, and there was plenty of meat in the sauce to count it as protein for Mister Man.
I said my goodbyes, told them I would be back for dinner at 7PM and took off to get to the airport. I took the public pullman-type ATVO bus over, but we would be coming back in a water taxi. Because we're fancy like that. All part of the service, folks. While I was waiting at the airport I had to call HQ. It was call I didn't want to make, but it was necessary. I have a problem with my payroll and despite talking with them repeatedly, it hasn't been resolved yet. It has become a problem. I have had conversations with Frank about it and while he isn't able to do anything on my behalf he's my cheerleader to take it up the ladder, which I have done, but it's now time for more pressure. Hub-unit agrees with me when I speak with him about it.
I spoke to the head of the payroll department and told them the problem was still unresolved. She wasn't able to give me an answer as to when it would be. I spoke to the HR Manager and essentially gave an ultimatum – I need this resolved by the end of this tour or I will have to tender my resignation. The ball is in their court. I don't want to quit. I don't want to look for another job in this economy. But I can't be working for free; as lovely as the perks are, the utility companies don't care that I'm eating well and staying in fancy hotels when the bills are due back home. You know?
But for the next few days, my focus was my new set of clients. Four people, two couples, all retired but apparently active kind of folks. From Orinda & Moraga! So close to home for me, just the other side of the Caldecott Tunnel from my house. I may smell them on arrival to see if there's anything recognizable from home in their jackets. Okay, maybe that's not the way to greet them.
Met them at Arrivals and got them in a shuttle down to the boat dock and we zoomed off to the hotel. First thing out of my mouth was “I grew up in Albany and Martinez. I live in North Oakland and I haven't been home in two months. Before we delve into all things Venetian, please talk to me about Bay Area news for a few minutes!” They all cracked up at that. I like these folks, and not just because they are from home. They are really nice people. Relaxed. No sense of histrionics at this point. I need a break from that for a moment.
We arrived at the hotel and they got checked in. I told them to take an hour and freshen up from the plane, I would be waiting in the bar. I chatted with Luana who was working, had a coffee and some cookies.
Spent the rest of the afternoon in Piazza San Marco touring the basilica and the campanile (Cal grads, all of them, and they recognized the similarity to the one on campus at Berkeley before I could mention it – whoo!) We also did the Clock Tower and Doge's Palace. They were ready for a nap by the time we were through. I had reservations for them for dinner at the hotel so they wouldn't have to go far. La Cusina is a fantastic restaurant, but it's difficult for large groups for dinner, which is why we only book it for the private tours. I dropped them at the hotel, and told them I would see them at 9AM in the lobby. They know that if they need me they just call the concierge desk and they will put a call through to me. No problem, no problem. See you tomorrow.
Hopped on a boat to Giudecca. Had dinner and some tv with the fam and went home. Near Rialto I saw that the “encampment” with the Occupy folks is gone. I asked in the caffe across from where they were parked when they left. They gave up earlier in the afternoon.
Occupy Venice is no more. Slow clap for them.
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