Back at home, Leonor asks if we want a round of tequilas
before lunch. We decline, and she says
she will prepare something to eat then.
She goes out to her garden and gets some fresh herbs and then begins to
work her magic. Since we had bought a
chicken while we were out, it doesn’t take long before she says, “Let’s eat!”
and sets out some fresh tomatoes and homegrown basil. The smell is strong and refreshing. She has a bowl of guacamole too, a basket of
fresh bread, some jalapenos and the chicken. It is truly time to eat…and believe me, we do! There is some tasty food, but I had not
expected some of the tasty stories that would be told as we sat for our lengthy
lunch.
Both Leonor and Manuel loved Italy. It is obvious, as around the house, someone
had hung up pictures and posters of Sienna, their favorite town. We had been talking of our favorite places we
had visited, and Leonor happily tells us about her love, Italy. She has a longtime friend who they met ages
ago, from Sienna. This friend is an
Italian historian is who very well known for his books and lectures. The family has an old villa, where they grow
olives and have a vineyard. Leonor and
Manuel used to go and spend time there, and she tells of how she loved to go
out and help with the harvests of olives and grapes. She tells of the first time she had truly
fresh pressed olive oil and how it mad her gag.
She told of the famous visitors who would come and stay at the villa
while they were there. There were
celebrities, presidents, prime ministers and all sorts of society types. “Picasso’s art dealer would stay there. He was always greeted with very special
privileges that others staying there did not have” she says. She goes on to tell how he always dressed the
same no matter what he was doing.
She would go on to reveal that this friend of theirs worked
for Mussolini. He was actually in charge
of the states art committee or whatever it is called in Italy. He was a very well cultured gentleman and was
fluent in both German and Italian. “He
hated Mussolini” she says. She
speculates that in later life, this very gentleman had been blackmailed about
something in his past, because she said, “there was something shady he was
dealing with that he never told anyone”
he clashed with the ideologies of the time and hated life under ‘Il
Duce’ . She tells that because of his
position in the Italian arts and histories, that when Hitler paid Mussolini a
visit, he was their tour guide. “He took
the two leaders to all the important historical and architectural sites around
the country” she says. “He would take them somewhere and begin to point out the
fine details of this and that and why it was important. Hitler never cared. He never wanted to know anything about the
historical or design aspects. If there
was a battle or if a fight occurred on any spot that is what he wanted to
know. He only wanted to know how the
battle was won or who the victor was and why. He was very annoyed with the close
mindedness of Hitler” she tells. She
also ties the story of a very well known patron of the arts, Harry Kessler, and
how he became known as The Red Count.
Fascinating and intricate stuff, and to think she was a witness and a
friend to some of these men!
As much as I am enjoying my fresh tomatoes and basil, wood
smoked chicken and guacamole, it pales in comparison to all that Leonor is
telling us. My beer is gone too soon, as
we still have more stories to hear.
Somehow, she weaves in a fascinating story of an Estonian
man who was renowned for his horsemanship.
He too, was tied in somehow with Leonor her husband and their
entertaining. The Russians were in awe
of this particular man. His style was
impeccable and his handling of horses was complete perfection. Of course, at these times there is political
intrigue involved, and lots of it! She
laughs as she tells why his style of riding was that of legend, sheer perfection.
“Everyone admired the way he rode. He
was so poised and grand when he rode. Of
course, it would later be revealed as to how he had such great style. All the while of working under the Russian
aristocracy, he was stealing form them!
He had such great form because he would take the horses out and instruct
people how to ride, he would have money shoved in his riding pants at his
knees” she says laughing. “He would money there and would have to hold his
knees tightly against the horses so that when he rode he would not jostle
around and loose the money!” She is
sitting upright and acting out as if she were riding a horse on display for
everyone.
I lost track of exactly how we transitioned from the dining
table to the living room. It is easy to
understand why though; when so much is being unfurled in front of you. Next thing I know is we are sitting in the
den and have espresso on the table in front of us and a few plates of Mexican
deserts. “We should sit and enjoy the
sun set again, it is so beautiful” Leonor says.
Funny, but when the sun gets to a certain point, she instructs us on
where to sit and she takes a particular chair to enjoy the event in. She points across the room at an old chair
and she makes the shape of a gun with her fingers, “That chair! That is the very chair Pancho Villa was
killed in!” she says aloud and starts laughing.
 | |
| The view from the roof |
Leonor points out that the sun is about to set, and asks if
I would like to go on the roof to get a better view. I jump at the invitation, and she and Tonya
stay in the den to chat. Watching the
sun go down over the valley gives me time to reflect. It has been a great day and has served to
drive home the fact that no matter how I feel about being in Mexico, I am
truly blessed and fortunate to be able to meet people like Leonor and be shown
their homes and their lives. This is
such a treat and our visit has turned out to be more than we ever could have
imagined. I had no idea that when I woke
up this morning that my day would entail everything from Abe Lincoln to Don
Quixote, Hitler and a thieving Estonian to name only a few.
When I go back downstairs both Tonya and Leonor are enjoying
whatever it is they have been chatting about.
We spend quite a while sitting in our spots, talking about whatever may
come up. Leonor comments that she is
growing tired, and is ready to call it a day.
She hugs Tonya and tells her how much she is enjoying our company and
that it was nice that we came to visit, “I knew you would like it. I hoped you would” she says. She is so right, we love it and we tell her
that we are so very thankful that she invited us into her home and to spend the
weekend with her like this. There is no doubt;
this has been one of the best weekends of my life.
When we get back to our room, we are shocked to see what
time it is. The darkness fooled us, and
it is not even 9pm yet! We laugh about
retreating to our room so early. We pull
out the computer and decide to watch the most recent documentary from Werner
Herzog, which proves to be another mind blowing adventure. By the time we turn the lights off, we have
worn ourselves out. It may not be
physical, but the mental intake today has been quite a load. I could care less about ghosts tonight and am
actually giving more thought in hoping that the stray cat goes and moans
somewhere else. As I pull the covers up
and try to get comfy, I am reminded of ol’ Abe and how I could easily look down
on the chump. His bed better pay off
double tonight!
(...continued)
(...continued)
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