If not now, when?

One American woman. Twenty acres and a 1650 farmhouse in Tuscany. Random introspection and hilarity, depending on the day.

30 July 2005

Getting back

I dragged myself out of bed, sick as a dog (okay, I admittedly do NOT know where that expression comes from, but I felt like garbage. Regrettably cancelled not one but three appointments to buy myself a little time. Drugged myself into near-oblivion, swung through the office and did ‘perky’ one more time (God bless Miss Manners who brought me a stash of Airborne tablets!, took one taxicab, two airplanes, three trains, twenty-plus hours -- and at the end, my dirty little car (from its last adventure) sat waiting for me at the train station. A quick stop at the Coop to get a few necessities for the fridge (I was arriving on a Saturday night at 5 pm – nothing is open on Sunday, I’ve already learned THAT the hard way!). Stopped at Pazze Pizza (literally, Crazy Pizza, a cute carryout place), and ordered a carciofi e salsiccia (artichoke hearts and sausage to go… stopped for a limone gelato while I waited. Aaaah, it’s good to be back. Noticed a sign in the window at Pazze … Chiuso per Ferie, 1 August – 10 Sept. Are you KIDDING?!?!? 6 WEEKS? How does a business survive? I am about to experience my first August with ‘Italy on Vacation’ – have heard the rumors, but see now that it’s no joke!

As I came in on the train, I realized that the sunflowers (girasole – literally turning to the sun) are still here, which makes me smile. Someone during my travels told me that there were as many sunflowers in Italy as there is corn in Iowa, and while I purposely haven’t spent a ton of time in Iowa (not that there’s anything WRONG with that?!), I imagine it to be pretty close to true. My hike today revealed only a few changes in the garden – the roses are at their end but the cardoons are blooming, gargantuan 6’ tall purple thistle things that they are, but the heat has gotten to them; many fewer leaves on them than when I left. The blackberries, thankfully, are not yet ripe (still plenty of time to give myself a stomachache eating them when they are… I have fond childhood memories of berrypicking with my surrogate grandfather Mr. U, and wish he could be here to see the bounty that awaits – the bushes are literally heavy with the weight of the still-pinkish fruit!); the fall-harvesting olives and figs are coming along nicely.

Even Maxi – the famously disinterested, almost skittish cat – is literally bounding with energy to see me; he won’t let me alone for even a moment, insistently rubbing against my legs, shoving his head up against my hands, stretching his legs on my back when I sit on the stone wall - begging for attention. TD & RA have left and locked the limonaia – where their food lives – so they have to settle for a saucer of milk and a bit of sausage, which I have, and give happily. It’s nice to be missed.

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