Because...
... after last night's thunderstorms, today dawned sunny and blue skied.
Because ... there are so many truly horrible things in the world. There is Sudan. There is the still-unrecovered, impoverished side of New Orleans. There are people starving and oppressed and fearful for their lives, all over the world, as I type this. So in the grand scheme of things it's hard to feel tooooooo sorry for yourself living in Tuscany, glancing out the window to see the towers of Siena winking at you in the distance.
Because... to my knowledge, loneliness and the darkness of uncertainty has never killed anyone.
Because ... the only guarantee any of us has is today, and in the words of Pat Green, "If you live your whole life upon a shelf, you've got noone to blame but your own damn self. Okay, alright ... carry on."
Because ... it is Tuscany, damnit, and it is market day, and the man at the frutta e verdura likes me (or pities me) so much that he gave me an entire sack (easily 50) of zucchini blossoms (fiori di zucchi).
BECAUSE ... nothing cures a cranky, wallowing, self-pitying girl like fried food:
Let there be fried zucchini blossoms!
Some stuffed with fresh mozzarella!
Made by my own hands!
In my farmhouse kitchen!
Let there be many!
Perfectly beer-battered and lightly sea-salted!
Let me consume them until they come out my ears!
So, sure, maybe I'm mostly just acting.
But the blossoms DID rock my world.
Sometimes, it is all we know how to do: to behave the way we wish to feel, and pray that eventually the feelings will follow. And perhaps that's a complete crock. Maybe no matter how much you do, the feelings will be what they are. But either way, you can't starve in the meantime, right? And wasting the gift of a sack of zucchini blossoms because you're feeling self-indulgently woe-is-me, now THAT is a crime.
Tuscans don't waste food.
Nor do they lay around dreaming and wishing for things to happen.
They suck it up. They face the music. Do what needs to be done. Carry on.
And they truly LIVE life.
Simply. Deeply. Honestly. Unapologetically.
There's an APB out for my inner Tuscan. I'm sure she'll be back soon.
Because ... there are so many truly horrible things in the world. There is Sudan. There is the still-unrecovered, impoverished side of New Orleans. There are people starving and oppressed and fearful for their lives, all over the world, as I type this. So in the grand scheme of things it's hard to feel tooooooo sorry for yourself living in Tuscany, glancing out the window to see the towers of Siena winking at you in the distance.
Because... to my knowledge, loneliness and the darkness of uncertainty has never killed anyone.
Because ... the only guarantee any of us has is today, and in the words of Pat Green, "If you live your whole life upon a shelf, you've got noone to blame but your own damn self. Okay, alright ... carry on."
Because ... it is Tuscany, damnit, and it is market day, and the man at the frutta e verdura likes me (or pities me) so much that he gave me an entire sack (easily 50) of zucchini blossoms (fiori di zucchi).
BECAUSE ... nothing cures a cranky, wallowing, self-pitying girl like fried food:
Let there be fried zucchini blossoms!
Some stuffed with fresh mozzarella!
Made by my own hands!
In my farmhouse kitchen!
Let there be many!
Perfectly beer-battered and lightly sea-salted!
Let me consume them until they come out my ears!
So, sure, maybe I'm mostly just acting.
But the blossoms DID rock my world.
Sometimes, it is all we know how to do: to behave the way we wish to feel, and pray that eventually the feelings will follow. And perhaps that's a complete crock. Maybe no matter how much you do, the feelings will be what they are. But either way, you can't starve in the meantime, right? And wasting the gift of a sack of zucchini blossoms because you're feeling self-indulgently woe-is-me, now THAT is a crime.
Tuscans don't waste food.
Nor do they lay around dreaming and wishing for things to happen.
They suck it up. They face the music. Do what needs to be done. Carry on.
And they truly LIVE life.
Simply. Deeply. Honestly. Unapologetically.
There's an APB out for my inner Tuscan. I'm sure she'll be back soon.
posted by Viaggiatore | 8/30/2006
3 Comments:
Yeah! I was a little worried after yesterday's post. But since you've dragged yourself up to the level of fried food, entirely skipping the tub o'icecream and the large bag of dorritos, I think maybe you'll be OK. Eventually.
Reminds me of a word from Secondhand Lions, "You can believe anything, even if its not true"
LB
What a beautiful post.
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