Today, Roberta and I drive out of Verona to visit the house of her cousin Michaela. It's a nice place in the agro-flatlands just beyond the city limits, with a little backyard deck and swimming pool. Currently living there are Michaela's Mom (and Roberta's paternal aunt) Anna, Michaela's husband who I did not meet, a ten year old son I did not meet, and Marta, their adorable five year old daughter. Roberta wants me to do a portrait of Marta as a gift for the husband's upcoming birthday. I will barter this work for Italian lessons, a fine trade. Roberta is an excellent teacher, speaks lovely, educated Italian and perfect English – she can tell us everything we need to know.

Anna, the suocera (mother-in law), digs me, I think. She appreciates my attempts to speak Italian and I even manage, with her and Roberta's encouragement, to get off a good phrase or two. Marta is a sweet kid, submits to a session of photo taking with the digital camera most cheerfully. They want color, so I'll do some drawings in pastel (see the results).

One funny thing, Roberta brought Kimba, her ancient Golden Retriever, along for the ride. Marta kept saying, "Che puzza!" (What a stink!) when Kimba came near; he has old dog breath. I would say, "Non è colpa sua! E' vecchio!" (It's not his fault! He's old!) She thought that was amusing.

I am working on a drawing of construction scaffolding on a Baroque building. My source is a photo I took in Sicilia and, to me, this image says a lot about the state of Italy right now. There’s so much crumbling beauty and very little money to maintain it; seems like, as soon as the scaffolding comes off one historic and lovely old structure, there’s another, long-begrimed by vehicle exhaust and the elements, demanding care. These cleaning projects seem to move along very slowly.

There are buildings in Piazza dei Signori in Verona, in the very heart of the tourist area, which have been entirely covered by scaffolding for almost a year. Too many pranzo breaks, or is the money for overtime just not there? If a buck or two was at stake, we Americani would have those buildings sparkling in six or seven weeks, guaranteed. On the one hand, I love this long arc of endeavor, this pleasant lack of ambition.

Piazza Dei Signori, in its current state, has been around for five hundred years or so; why rush a good thing? On the other hand, I want the Italiani to keep their country in the best possible shape, to be diligent with their many treasures, and, frankly, they are often not. I don’t think it’s because they don’t care, are not proud of their country; the Italians love their country, even if they often long for Stratocaster guitars, shopping centres, and these big, stupid cars. It’s just that there’s so much old stuff to maintain and not much dough, even in the prosperous North. In the meantime, I wish they could be better about not littering, but that goes for Americans as well. Courage, Italy, you’re here to stay and things will look up soon enough.

Up pretty early with nothing in the 'fridge, a distinctly un-homey feeling. We first walk Mary in Parco Delle Mura where we are both ragged out by lack of breakfast and blasted by the late-morning sun. It's one of those hazy days in Verona; we cannot see even a hint of the distant mountains to the North.

We do our shopping at Migross, spend the day showering Mary with affection. Yesterday Roberta met us at the stazione and took us to Bussolengo to retrieve our poor little dog. The friendly son caretaker says she did okay, though again she did not eat well. Turns out he ran a pet store in Borgo Trento some years back- he and Roberta have a little chat as we're paying up and signing out.

Must get back to work on my SLM Comics drawings, two of which I had to leave half-finished when we left for Rome. Also, must wrap up my portrait of the two big dogs down Bixio, Athos and Ollie. The drawing is done, that's the fun part- now I need to collect the cash.

We wake early, straighten up the apartment and deal with breakfast and lunch. I pack some sandwiches for the train ride. We do not have to meet with il padrone, just lock ourselves out as we leave. All goes smoothly at the stazione; we are on our train and rolling along in good time.

What an amazing city! We had a great week, but I must say that we were not drawn into Rome, did not feel, as when we visited Sicilia, that we could see ourselves living there. The art was awe-inspiring if appalling at times (especially the over-showy, cash-bloated Christian vibe), and the city center was enchanting with its piazzas and fountains, but there was too much trash and too many tourists. It squashed us a bit, as urban jungles can tend to do, and frankly we were psyched to get back to The Adige, Nino Bixio, and our little dog.