Archive for the ‘P’ Category
Rising to the Challenge
OK, there must be something in the air, because I’ve been tagged again. I’m such a sucker for a good meme that I haven’t turned down a tag request yet, and here I am, keeping my streak alive.
The lovely Vanessa (from the blog that shares a name with this post) has passed along some rather unique questions from Create a Connection, an interesting site I’m just getting to know.
Here’s the Q & A:
I’m eating a leftover hamburger (w/ mayo, on wheat bread) and sautéd zucchini as I type this. What did YOU eat last?
A cappuccino and a cornetto, which normally I don’t have in the morning, but it was calling to me, and who am I to reject a Nutella-filled cornetto?
Update: I originally did this meme in the morning but then couldn’t get onto the Internet because of severe thunderstorms. Since then, I’ve eaten some minestrone. Full disclosure here on Q & A.
I am totally head-over-heels for a very tall man named James, who has a very sexy new haircut (picked out by me, of course! lol) What about YOUR love life? Anyone special?
Yes, someone affectionately known as P on this blog, but as a different, disgustingly cute nickname in real life that shall never be disclosed in a public forum. Read more about how we met here. P is about 5’10”, extremely thin even though he eats twice as much as I do, is an excellent cook, and treats Luna like a daughter (which, of course, she is).
I live in a little house, with lots of trees, on a dead-end street. What is it like where you live?
Right now I live in a redone, medieval house in a village in southern Italy overlooking the Ionian Sea. Although I won’t go into more details just yet, this may be changing—but only by a few paces down the corso, so don’t get too excited. And forget I mentioned full disclosure.
I love my hair, and my cute wittle nose. What are YOUR favourite features about yourself?
I really like my brain the best (it usually works pretty well), but physically, I suppose my hair because it’s really quite manageable so long as I keep it reasonably clean, and my eyes—even though they’re just brown, I rather like the shape and shade.
Today, I pondered about the need for mentoring in young women’s lives. What deep thoughts have YOU been pondering upon?
I’ve been thinking a lot about the Italian school system even though I don’t have any children (yet). We were discussing it in one of my English classes, and it has me thinking about what works, what doesn’t, and what I would probably have to provide for any future children with regard to education. Scary stuff.
I love cheese (cubed colby & monterey jack) and green growing things! List 2 random things you love about life.
Sliding across a tile floor in socks and climbing into fresh, warm sheets. And so many more. I actually started making a list of such things several years ago, so I think I’ll start posting some periodically.
I found CAC (Create a Connection) through Melba, who I found through A Mindful Life, which I stumbled on by doing a random search for Buddhist blogs, for no apparent reason! How did YOU find out about CAC?
I just found CAC through Vanessa who tagged me with this meme; it looks fabulous! I’m not quite sure how I found Vanessa (Sunday Scribblings perhaps?), but I’m sure glad I did.
I absolutely *heart* thunderstorms! What do YOU love most about spring?
Increased daylight, which really hadn’t been a big deal to me until this year. I just love that when I’m done teaching in the evening, it’s not pitch black and cold anymore. It also means my balcony stays warmer in the sunshine a little longer in the mornings, which is great for the plants.
* * * * * * * * * *
Dearest Vanessa then continued the meme party by listing 5 things about herself. Well, you all know how much I love to talk about me, so I played along with this as well, adding my own slant since I’ve already done so darn many things about me. I needed guidance, and I found some.
Five things about me connected to the 5 senses:
1. Taste. I love chocolate, but I really don’t like overly chocolate things, e.g., chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Blech.
2. Sight(ish). I have really good visualization skills, so that I can see in my mind the way I want a room to look and know that it will be something I like. P doesn’t have this so much, so when it comes time to move furniture, I have to convince him that what I see in my mind will be pretty, I swear. And then I whine for good measure.
3. Touch. I love walking with P, my arm linked through his or vice versa. I’m not sure we’d do this so much if he weren’t Italian, or if we weren’t in Italy, so I’m glad he’s him and we’re here.
4. Hearing. I absolutely hate a loud television; this is why surround sound is wasted on me. It actually sometimes makes me sick in my stomach.
5. Smell. I love, love, love the smell of onions and peppers being fried. Love. I don’t even have to eat them later as I get (mostly) full on the smell. But I eat them anyway just so they don’t feel sad.
I’m not going to tag anyone specifically, but do play along if you fancy doing so with either or both of the memes. And don’t forget to leave me a link so I can find you!
Buon weekend a tutti!
—————
[tags]memes[/tags]
conversations with p
When I set off for the Calabrian Women’s Summit 2007, it marked the first time that P and I would be apart overnight. I knew I’d be OK since I’d be in the company of wonderful funny women, but P was left with some alone time–and he used it to be alone, only leaving the house to walk Luna.
So over the weekend, P got some serious thinking in, and here’s the transcript to prove it.
During our first embrace, the following transpired (translated into English–mostly):
P: You know I was thinking…
M: About what?
P: About us.
M: Uh huh. What about us?
P: That we’re like a lamp.
M: Oh? How so?
P: Well, in order for a lamp to work, you need two wires, two forces working together.
M: Continue.
P: A positive (*points to me*) and a negative (*points to himself and smiles*).
M: Right.
P: And when they’re together, they can make something beautiful, like light.
M: *blushes and squeezes him tighter*
P: Or, you know, in our case, like a baby…una famiglia.
M: *double blushes and tears up*
(Just to be clear, no announcements are forthcoming at this point.)
—————
[tags]love, amore[/tags]
Love Thursday: Flowering Surprises
During my first date with P, he disappeared for a few minutes while snipping a miniature rose off of a nearby bush. Keeping his reputation safe as village flower thief, the other day when he took the chicken photos, he also showed up with something else for me–our first mandorla blossom this season. This wasn’t technically thieving, though, as the tree is ours.
FYI, usually February brings these dainty flowers, but I suppose the temperate weather has fooled them.
In the sunshine:
And at sunset:
Happy Love Thursday everyone!
—————
[tags]love thursday, mandorla, almonds, almond blossoms, blossoms, flowers[/tags]
Post-Christmas Wrap-Up
No, this picture hasn’t technically cleared the censors (P), but, in true holiday spirit, I’m going to do what I want and then hide the results. The real reason I’m posting this photo is to announce that I now have my very own digital camera!
Babbo Natale was extra generous this year, although he did require that I brave the nasty two-days-before-Christmas weather of driving rain and wind in order to earn my prize. But it’s all good, folks–
We’re here and we’re taking pictures!
Nothing in Italy is ever easy though, folks (fellow expats, can I get an Amen?), and neither was acquiring my brand new Acer CS-6530.
After arriving in the town where I’d be shopping (half hour away), I walked into the store I had, weeks before, secretly chosen as my vendor of choice. In the window interspersed with various available photography-related products were lots of wedding portraits, but even that didn’t stop me from attempting to buy there.
So what did stop me? The clerk.
Rude? No.
Unhelpful? Sort of, but not exactly.
The real reason I didn’t end up buying from this store was because this guy wouldn’t sell me anything! I shuffled into the store after shaking off any excess water that had gathered on the brim of my baseball cap (worn only in the heaviest rains here), the hood that was over the hat, and my rain jacket. As I wiped my feet on the benvenuti mat, I asked the clerk to see the Fuji camera in the window.
The following exchange ensued, translated for your reading pleasure:
Cute elderly man: Oh we don’t have Fuji, but we do have Sony, Canon, Acer….
Me: But I saw a Fuji in the window.
CEM: Oh, really? Well this is my son’s store. I’m just filling in for him.
Me: That’s nice of you. Can I see the camera?
CEM: I don’t know anything about the cameras. My son’s the one that can tell you about which one you’d need, how to set it up, the warranty. I’m just a 70-year-old man. I don’t know about these things.
Me: Right, but I know a little about cameras myself, and I know which one I want.
CEM: But I can’t sell you one without my son here.
Me: I see. Will he be back soon?
CEM: Tomorrow.
So that was my first attempt to buy a camera. Now, granted, the guy may have been doing me a favor and doing the ethical thing by not selling me something he had no idea about, but since when am I looking for ethics in a commercial enterprise? I’m American, damn it! At the time I was just fearing that I wouldn’t find another option and I’d be without a camera (again) for Christmas.
The spirit of Babbo smiled upon me, though, and in the next store, the ever-important son *was* there. Mom was too, but Helpful Son explained the differences between the cameras they had, set up the date and language on mine, and sent me on my merry way.
So for the past couple days, I’ve been playing around with the settings and generally learning how to take advantage of all its features. Today was the first sunny day, so I haven’t had much opportunity to get out there in the field. I’m finding that it’s rather user-friendly, though, and I think that figuring out the lighting and closeness stuff will all become natural very soon.
But imagine how much more I’d have to learn if the Cute Elderly Man had actually agreed to sell me something. So, as it turns out, I am grateful to CEM for not selling me a camera. Think I should go back and tell him, or better yet, his son?
Anyway, that was/is my big excitement this holiday season. P didn’t feel well Christmas Eve, so instead of going out, we stayed home and ate Italian wedding soup (recipe to be tomorrow’s What’s Cooking Wednesday). Can’t complain there.
We spent Christmas morning in the piazza, offering up “auguri” greetings to one and all, and then had a quiet lunch, just the two of us, at home. We did linguine agli scampi (linguine with prawns), which just may be the dish next Wednesday. Oh the suspense!
We were invited to his sister’s house, but we reasoned that since P already didn’t feel very well, hours of screaming children probably wouldn’t help. So, aside from eating, we spent a lot of the rest of the day on the phone talking to his brothers and sisters and their families spread around Italy and France.
I had spoken to my family on Christmas Eve, so the evening was free for movie-time. P made popcorn old-fashioned-like on the stove, and we watched The Italian Job, which was one of his Christmas gifts. Neither of us had ever seen it before, and I have to admit that I kinda loved it. A lot. I can’t wait to watch it in English when he’s not around.
Then we watched what is perhaps the least appropriate Christmas flick of all time–Legends of the Fall. I kid you not, this is what Italy’s Canale 5 featured last night for the family to gather around.
Has anyone ever seen a more depressing movie that didn’t include the Holocaust? If so, please let me know so that I don’t happen upon them either, particularly on Christmas.
I had never seen Legends, and let me tell you, I can’t imagine a circumstance in which I’d ever want to watch it again. If only the children had died gruesome, violent deaths, too, it would’ve really instilled the Christmas spirit deep within.
By the way, I hope I’m not spoiling anything for the one other person out there who hadn’t seen it as of yesterday.
Legends aside, though, we had a lovely Christmas. And around sunset, the pink in the sky told me we’d be having a sunny day today, finally, so, like I said, it’s all good:
And finally, Happy Saint Stephen’s Day to those who celebrate (like us in Italy) and Happy Boxing Day to our friends in Canada, Britain, Australia, and New Zealand, but let’s all take a moment to remember the victims of the December 26, 2004 tsunami.
Love Thursday: How a Jean Jacket and Some Wind Can Change Your Life
Let me confess that I have a bit of a jacket/coat fetish. I love them. All. If I could afford to have a different jacket/coat for every day of the year, for every kind of weather, I would. Hooded, traditional collar, zipper, button, cropped, ankle-length, sporty, any color, any time.
So imagine my excitement when, the last time I was in America, I found a spectacular jean jacket at the Gap–on sale! Jean jackets are particularly difficult for me–must be the exact right length, right color, right level of fittedness. You see the issues. Well this one was it. So it came back to Italy with me, and I treasured it.
But then one exceptionally windy day in May of 2005, I carelessly rested it on my shoulder bag as I walked from the piazza to my house, about a three minute walk. In my defense, I was also carrying my friend’s cat, who I’d be watching that weekend. When I got to my house, I set down the little guy and took the bag off my shoulder. No jacket.
Now, when I say that it was exceptionally windy, we’re talking hurricane force gusts. We get powerful winds from all directions, but this one was the scirocco from the Sahara (they tell me), and it was ridiculously fierce. We’re far enough away that we don’t get the sand too, but my friends in Sicilia often aren’t so lucky (they tell me). I actually had doubts that my jacket was even still in the village.
I went back up to the piazza and began walking around kind of aimlessly, looking for cornered spots where the jacket may have landed. I was interrupted by one of the guys from the village. We’ll call him #1. I had seen him around and we had exchanged “ciao” many times, but we had never actually met. Next thing I knew, he had rounded up a group of young boys and they were searching high and low for my jacket; he even sent one down into the vegetation just over the ledge of the lookout point of the square.
In the meantime, another young man from the village–let’s call him #2–began chatting me up. A bunch of smalltalk, nothing special, but noticeably not even a mention of the missing jacket. So I’m standing there, and I’m nodding to whatever it was he was blathering on about, and what I’m really thinking is how unbelievably nice it was of #1 to organize a makeshift search team and actually *do* something for me rather than just hit on me. And wasn’t he kind of cute after all?
The fruitless search ended soon thereafter. Dejected, I walked home on the main street. About halfway down, I heard “Signorina!” from a woman on her balcony. Turns out she saw my jacket fly away, and she was keeping it safe and sound in her house the whole time. Reunited!
That evening after dinner, I put on my beloved jacket and took a walk into the piazza. I noticed #1 in the doorway of the bar and thought I should at least tell him that I found the darn thing. So I walked up there and did just that. He asked if I wanted an amaro (a digestive liqueur). Here I should mention that #1 had asked me if I wanted a coffee or other beverage, oh, probably 20 times before–but that’s not an usual thing here as even the old geezers are always offering. Or maybe I just always look thirsty.
Anyway, usually I respond to such questions with a quick “No, no,” wind up the conversation, and skadoodle. But this time, before I had chance to think, I had already accepted the amaro. And I don’t even like amaro.
We spent that evening walking and talking, getting to know one another, and have been together ever since. Yes, clever readers, #1 is the infamous P, and this was our first official meeting. It was love at first flight! Sorry, couldn’t resist.
But now you know the story of how a jean jacket and some wind can change your life. Or at least mine.
But if you’re waiting for pic of P, or of P and me, sorry to disappoint. He’s still blog shy and despite the fact that he doesn’t read English, pictures are the universal language.
Please note that Chookooloonks, the founder of Love Thursday, has ended her written journal, but you can find her photography journal (with a fabulous Love Thursday photo) here.
Happy Love Thursday everyone!
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
Calabria Guidebook
Recipes
