Above: I found this reproduction of Hemingway’s handwriting in this edition of his complete poems.
Last night after dinner as Georgia P slumbered, Tracie P read a book on birthing, and I relaxed watching Star Trek: First Contact (the movie), an ad came on the television for the Asiago Ranch Flatbread Grilled Chicken Sandwich at Wendy’s fast food.
It got me thinking about the Asiago high plateau and fond memories of visiting the village of Asiago many years ago.
And so I wrote this rant for the Bele Casel blog, where I regularly describe the symptoms of acute Venetophilia.
I was also reminded of Hemingway’s verses dedicated to the many villages that dot the landscape of the foothills of the Dolomite Alps in my beloved Veneto:
Half a hundred more,
Little border villages,
Back before the war,
Monte Grappa, Monte Corno,
Twice a dozen such,
In the piping times of peace
Didn’t come to much.
They were the sites of some of the most terrible battles of the first world war.
And many of them still look the same was as they did when Hemingway saw them for the first time.
And the sandwich, you ask? Here’s my rant.
Thanks for reading and buon weekend yall!