Back in January, I unveiled a game that P and I play called (children cover your eyes):
Loosely, and cleanly, this means “Where the heck is it?” and these are the rules:
(1) I roam the village taking random photos.
(2) P has to tell me where I’ve found them–all of them.
(3) Loser cooks dinner and cleans up afterwards.
The last time we played, I underestimated P. Greatly. Go back here to see the photos he identified without a moment’s hesitation.
Annoying, isn’t he?
So now that I’ve had a few months to prepare, I felt I was ready, and we played again last night.
Photo Number 1:
This is what we call a “false sense of security” photo. Easy as it’s rather recognizable to say the least. Plus it’s on our usual walk with the dogs, so, as expected, he got this one right away. It’s the house of a Swiss couple that visits only in the summer if you’re interested, but no, I don’t know the significance of the train.
Like I’m wont to do, I turned up the heat:
He threw out a guess (wrong) and then struggled for a few moments. I then made a strategic decision. I gave him a tiny hint–a photo of the door that’s across from it. Then it was pretty easy; this doorbell is within sight of the house he grew up in. He got it.
I gave him that clue because I felt safe, nay even a bit cocky, about the last photo that I was going to give him. Risky to be sure but I like to take chances.
Photo Number 3:
At first there was a hint of recognition in his eyes, but that quickly turned into a squint, then a look off into the distance, and, ladies and gentlemen, I kid you not: the words “Dove cazzo è?” were uttered. Repeatedly.
I gave him clues, told him how close this is to our house (*very* close), how he doesn’t actually pass by there often (it’s the “back way” and there’s really no reason to go there ever unless you’re taking random photos for a guessing game), how it’s somewhere you wouldn’t expect (it’s outside the cantina of our 80+-year-old neighbor Anna Maria who doesn’t seem much the ceramic sunshine tile type . . .check the link for how she heats her house in the winter).
Niente. He had nothing.
HO VINTO IO!!!!!!!
That means I won, and I’m planning out my feast as I type. I’m thinking he should do Thanksgiving. What do you think?
Today I am thankful for:
My P. I’ve never been one of those girls that was always partnered off; indeed, I’ve spent most of my adolescent and adult life alone (not lonely even though in Italian it’s the same word–solo/sola!), and I’m quite good on my own. I *need* lots of alone time, in fact, and sometimes that goes over well in a relationship and sometimes it doesn’t.
So imagine my surprise when I truly enjoyed being part of a couple, and not only that, I’ve even managed to find someone who will play silly games like Dove cazzo è? with me and not think I’m strange. Or think I’m strange but go with it anyway.
That’s pretty special, I know it, and I’m so thankful to have found P.
If you’d like to read more about him (and see a photo), here are some P posts:
How a Jean Jacket and Some Wind Can Change Your Life
(story of how we met)
Let the Answering Begin: The Sequel
[tags]calabria, southern italy, nablopomo, 30 days of thanks[/tags]