Ok so here I am. Finally!!!
It was about 20 years ago when I first breathed this air, and woke to these hills. A bit of mist softly ribboning the terraced groves of olives, slowly disappearing with the sun’s early morning glow.
Church bells at 7:30 am? Sunrise so orange-pink glow ball, wait do I need to keep sunglasses by my bed from now on?
Ok, that is on the list of new things in my new Italian Life!
It’s new that I am up at this hour, and smiling.
So here’s my new Italian Life:
– Up early and happy energetic
– Walking everywhere.
– Stairs, stairs, and more stairs.
– Flats, no heels (see above)
– Morning market to get today’s bread, fruit, veg, and a bit of whatever, the pecorino fresh from today? Is it Thursday, then porchetta, please.
– Carrying all back home (no car, no heels, see above)
– Quiet mornings uninterrupted by my old American life (thank you six-hour time zone, they are all still sleeping!)
– Walking the dog, cool air, stairs, stairs, uphill, downhill, carry her most of the way. Her barking at every other dog or cat (note this is same)
– Julian (if with me, gets cappuccino at the bar, brings back a fresh cornetto filled with delicious sweet warm cream (new, old American life, drink coffee all morning, no food until who knows when)
– Cook café on a gas stove, in “mocha”. Strong, a short thimble full of coffee, two sugars (real sugar please!) Bitter and delicious. The house smells so good.
– Drink water, water, water. Yes, it’s delicious and I love water. In the bottle, from the sink, from beautiful ornate public fountains.
I drink, I drink, I drink. (Old American life, hate water, never have it, camel-like existence)
– Shop, drift, putter in the morning.
– A bit to eat at 10.30 am, maybe some cheese, bread, fruit.
– Prepare thoughts for lunch. Go out, or eat at home? At home, a cool summer lunch of bread, the best green peppery olive oil
– A pinch of salt, fresh Tuscan bread (see above) fresh tomatoes, sliced, peppery arugula, slices of today’s pecorino, and sliced Tuscan salami.
All purchased from my little market up the hill (carry, walk, clim see above) and lovingly organized by the patron whose name I don’t yet know but who, the moment I part the beaded curtain to step into the tiny market exclaims Cara! Buongiorno! And with every item sliced, wrapped, and gently placed in a paper bag as though it were a Christmas gift, purrs Carolina Carolina brava! Praising me with my choices as though choosing a cheese from her counter was selecting a fine ruby ring from Cartier.
Perhaps the infusion of love and care in these simple yet amazingly flavorful treats make it all that more delicious. That secret ingredient in the food here, can’t be replicated in the old American life.
– After this little lunch, which was accompanied by a nice glass of red wine. Local. Good. And just one (ok maybe two a throwback to The Old American)
The windows open to the Via on which I now live (yes, I LIVE here!!!), the muffled chatter of my neighbors, punctuated by the clatter of dishes and the smells of their cooked lunch. A soup perhaps? Some pasta?
Who knows but soon we will all take a quiet repose. Yes, delicious, revitalizing, healing, and cozy nap. A rest really, not a deep sleep. The sounds of birds and the few lone movers on the street. Windows still open (maybe) and a cool breeze is my only blanket. It is lovely and as nourishing as lunch.
– And now, time to arouse, to move, to do some work.Phones begin to ring.Texts pour in.Emails read.Yes, it’s my old American life.
Awake, alive, and intruding. For now, it is a necessity. The lifeblood of my new Italian life. So, with joy, with not so much annoyance or reluctance, I call, I confer, I write, I lean across that bridge to the old American life and I can embrace it, appreciate it and all it has done for me, to me, and lovingly appreciate it for what it is. A huge toolbox for my new Italian life. Life skills, experiences, sharp objects that turned into effective tools. All to use and build the new Italian life.
So, text, email, write, communicate. It’s all good. It’s all part of the day, the journey that brought me here. To My New Italian Life.