enjoying:
cooler evenings
Sweettarts
wearing long sleeves
powdered laundry detergent
the excitement building at my office
the newspaper
my lunch pals
the underwear from Old Navy that I thought I hated
not so much:
spiders coming in out of the cold
jet lag
a couple of extra Italian pounds
allergies
feeling pressed for time
vacuuming
dinner
wanting:
another cup of coffee from La Zagara
my new eyeglasses
my shoes repaired
someone to wash the kitchen floor*
my own parking spot AT the station
the inclination to knit again and time to do it
*which was filthy before I left...
meanwhile, back in Tuvalu
Oh!
Six o'clock feels like midnight!
Dozens of emails awaited me at the office.
I was hungry at strange times.
They (the IT people) gave me a new computer - and I am struggling to adjust to all of it.
There is NO good cappuccino in Tuvalu, and though one can search, absolutely NO cornettos. Fish smells fishy here and has not been gently poached and boned by Paola's adorable husband and no one is playing Hotel California on the piano and violin next door (imagine?).
I say it all the time: re-entry is mighty. And usually involves lots of laundry.
The weather has turned and I'm not used to putting on a sweater to leave the house.
Yesterday marked one year since I went to work.
One year.
Sometimes it feels like five years and sometimes it feels like a month. But, yesterday, my first day in the office after an amazing vacation, people were excited to see me and wanted to hear about my trip and were anxious to ask me about it.
In one year my life has changed so much, and I still love it.
It was an awful lot of email though.
Six o'clock feels like midnight!
Dozens of emails awaited me at the office.
I was hungry at strange times.
They (the IT people) gave me a new computer - and I am struggling to adjust to all of it.
There is NO good cappuccino in Tuvalu, and though one can search, absolutely NO cornettos. Fish smells fishy here and has not been gently poached and boned by Paola's adorable husband and no one is playing Hotel California on the piano and violin next door (imagine?).
I say it all the time: re-entry is mighty. And usually involves lots of laundry.
The weather has turned and I'm not used to putting on a sweater to leave the house.
Yesterday marked one year since I went to work.
One year.
Sometimes it feels like five years and sometimes it feels like a month. But, yesterday, my first day in the office after an amazing vacation, people were excited to see me and wanted to hear about my trip and were anxious to ask me about it.
In one year my life has changed so much, and I still love it.
It was an awful lot of email though.
A Trip To Sorrento!
One can't just hang around Positano every day, can one?
Well, I could, could have, but, fortunately, Paola and K had other ideas and I'm always happy to go shopping. So, Sorrento it was.
In some ways, Sorrento feels like lots of other cities...Bridgetown, Hamilton, Kingston. Soon after we arrived, I heard someone exclaim: geez, this is crazier than New York City! And he was kind of right. Scooters and motorcycles and tourist trollies and buses swirled around us. But we hurried along on a mission to find things for the boys.
I was always pleasantly surprised to see all the scooters and motorcycles in Italy - I don't know why. I wish more people in Tuvalu had them and felt very Italian when I rode on the back of ours last weekend.
Did you know that I am unable to purchase good fruit in Tuvalu? It's true - I seem somehow cursed and have never been able to get decent fruit. I might have been able to in Sorrento but I didn't try.
Paola and I ooohed and aaahed over these little shoes.
We joked about having daughters to buy dresses for....
I suppose that Sorrento would have been a good place to look for fine Italian linens, but I hadn't thought about it, and I don't really need any linens. And I was too busy looking around -
you know me, I have to look AROUND.
I need to SEE what people are DOING.
Happily for me, there were lots of people doing lots of things...
her bag was made of PENNIES!
A motorcycle made of WOOD!
Lemons the size of my HEAD!
Sorrento was wonderful. We bought everything we needed, the boys loved their presents (little toys, candy, chips) and we hurried home, like everyone else -
for lunch.
But that's a post for another day.
Well, I could, could have, but, fortunately, Paola and K had other ideas and I'm always happy to go shopping. So, Sorrento it was.
In some ways, Sorrento feels like lots of other cities...Bridgetown, Hamilton, Kingston. Soon after we arrived, I heard someone exclaim: geez, this is crazier than New York City! And he was kind of right. Scooters and motorcycles and tourist trollies and buses swirled around us. But we hurried along on a mission to find things for the boys.
I was always pleasantly surprised to see all the scooters and motorcycles in Italy - I don't know why. I wish more people in Tuvalu had them and felt very Italian when I rode on the back of ours last weekend.
Did you know that I am unable to purchase good fruit in Tuvalu? It's true - I seem somehow cursed and have never been able to get decent fruit. I might have been able to in Sorrento but I didn't try.
Paola and I ooohed and aaahed over these little shoes.
We joked about having daughters to buy dresses for....
I suppose that Sorrento would have been a good place to look for fine Italian linens, but I hadn't thought about it, and I don't really need any linens. And I was too busy looking around -
you know me, I have to look AROUND.
I need to SEE what people are DOING.
Happily for me, there were lots of people doing lots of things...
her bag was made of PENNIES!
A motorcycle made of WOOD!
Lemons the size of my HEAD!
Sorrento was wonderful. We bought everything we needed, the boys loved their presents (little toys, candy, chips) and we hurried home, like everyone else -
for lunch.
But that's a post for another day.
meanwhile, back in Tuvalu
The scene: the living room, bb and K and Middle are watching Ocean's Twelve and trying to figure out who's going where tomorrow morning. Youngest is off set.
bb: I have to be in town early tomorrow morning, I'm having breakfast with a friend.
K: Early? I'm in at the regular time. (looks at Middle) What time are you going in?
Middle: I'm in at 3:00.
bb: So, I'm driving myself to the station?
K: No, I'll drive you...
bb: When does Youngest have to be at school?
Everyone shrugs. bb shouts up the stairs:
bb: DO YOU HAVE FIRST OFF?
Youngest (from upstairs): I'M OFF TOMORROW.
Everyone shrugs.
bb: okay, so?
Middle: I'm walking to the station.
bb: I'm driving myself.
K: I'll take the scooter.
Middle: I'm still walking.
bb: I have to be in town early tomorrow morning, I'm having breakfast with a friend.
K: Early? I'm in at the regular time. (looks at Middle) What time are you going in?
Middle: I'm in at 3:00.
bb: So, I'm driving myself to the station?
K: No, I'll drive you...
bb: When does Youngest have to be at school?
Everyone shrugs. bb shouts up the stairs:
bb: DO YOU HAVE FIRST OFF?
Youngest (from upstairs): I'M OFF TOMORROW.
Everyone shrugs.
bb: okay, so?
Middle: I'm walking to the station.
bb: I'm driving myself.
K: I'll take the scooter.
Middle: I'm still walking.
church for Sunday
I think the best churches might be in Italy.
Of course I've only been to a few churches in Italy - but there you are.
I think I saw four churches on this trip. Certainly, the one on the top of the hill, by the "upper road" on the way to Ravello was lovely.
In Ravello I visited the church of San Francesco and I lit a candle there, but I have a Ravello post for another day.
Positano has several churches. I tried, on a couple of occasions, to see the church where Paola and Fabio were married (where her parents were married) which is just at the end of her street. And by "street" I don't actually mean STREET because there really is only ONE STREET. I mean it is down 100 steps from Paola's house. ANYWAY, that church is teeny and only open on Sunday for mass and was Standing Room Only and I was wearing a BATHING SUIT (and a tunic of course, but still) and I never got there.
The church of Santa Maria Assunta is in the center of town. You heard the bells from this church Friday.
It was a little tricky coordinating my visit to the "duomo" as I was always in a bathing suit or it was during mass or I didn't have an offering in my pocket. But, finally, on Wednesday, everything worked out.
Past the ironwork gates over the door and inside I slipped.
You know that feeling you get when you enter a place like that...
I am very fond of St. Ann. She has been good to me.
I lit a candle with her and then walked around to explore.
Beautiful.
Then I went to light a candle for My Favorite And Only Aunt.
I promised her I would take a picture for her and I am praying today, as I was last week, that she is well enough to go to her computer soon so she can see it.
Of course I've only been to a few churches in Italy - but there you are.
I think I saw four churches on this trip. Certainly, the one on the top of the hill, by the "upper road" on the way to Ravello was lovely.
In Ravello I visited the church of San Francesco and I lit a candle there, but I have a Ravello post for another day.
Positano has several churches. I tried, on a couple of occasions, to see the church where Paola and Fabio were married (where her parents were married) which is just at the end of her street. And by "street" I don't actually mean STREET because there really is only ONE STREET. I mean it is down 100 steps from Paola's house. ANYWAY, that church is teeny and only open on Sunday for mass and was Standing Room Only and I was wearing a BATHING SUIT (and a tunic of course, but still) and I never got there.
The church of Santa Maria Assunta is in the center of town. You heard the bells from this church Friday.
It was a little tricky coordinating my visit to the "duomo" as I was always in a bathing suit or it was during mass or I didn't have an offering in my pocket. But, finally, on Wednesday, everything worked out.
Past the ironwork gates over the door and inside I slipped.
You know that feeling you get when you enter a place like that...
I am very fond of St. Ann. She has been good to me.
I lit a candle with her and then walked around to explore.
Beautiful.
Then I went to light a candle for My Favorite And Only Aunt.
I promised her I would take a picture for her and I am praying today, as I was last week, that she is well enough to go to her computer soon so she can see it.
Saturday morning television
Between packing and running down to the beach the other day, I sat down and ignored the view for a few minutes (NOT EASY).
Here's what I watched.
The opening credits to:
Love Fever - or FEVER OF LOVE - or One Life to Live...or SOME AMERICAN SOAP OPERA. Skillfully dubbed. Sadly for me, it was not All My Children. So I clicked the channel.
What's this?
A man. A woman. A man and a woman IN LOVE.
A baby.
A man and a woman IN LOVE with a baby.
A what? A STROLLER.
A man and a woman IN LOVE WITH A BABY AND A STROLLER.
If you love your baby you'll love this stroller.
(You know I don't speak Italian, right? Aren't you impressed?)
Click.
The Rowenta Pro Perfect steam iron is amazing.
I think, if I am understanding this, all you need to do is: press the steam button...
and a cloud of steam resembling a god or goddess floats down over your room and every garment you have ever owned magically prostrates itself, perfectly pressed, on your bed.
One button, I'm telling you.
Click.
It took me a little while to figure out what these chefs were doing. Chopping? Dicing? I had to check the view for a minute but when I turned back I saw:
they were dropping whole roasted chickens on to aluminum foil which was stretched across the room and DID NOT BREAK. Miraculous Italian Aluminum Foil!
Click.
AHA! I didn't tell you that I was stone-deaf (left side only) in Positano! It's true. On day two I woke up deaf. It was handy for sleeping well, but inconvenient in conversation and slightly dizzy making on walks. Because it was not painful it was only a nuisance and provided me with the perfect excuse for visiting the pharmacy. (I absolutely love pharmacies.) This is the spray they sold me, with ear drops, which I used faithfully for two more days to no avail. I knew what I needed was my baby ear syringe back home - alas, Italian mommies aren't instructed in sucking snot and ear goo from their infant's heads (can you imagine?) and no such thing was available. Here is an Italian illustration of the inside of my clogged ear! On television!
Even Senza Gas, my poor ear was cloggedcloggedclogged until TEN MINUTES AFTER I WAS IN MY HOUSE, when I used my diabolical, 24 year old, bulb ear thingy. And then? I was cured.
Click.
OH! A pirate! Talking to...
Winnie The Pooh? Wait...
a cat in a vest with glasses? Wait...
George from Seinfeld?
We may never know.
Click.
There are manymanymany mattresses on sale at this hour in Positano. This one seemed to be a good deal.
Click.
Please note: Channel 4 has very pretty station identification animations.
Click.
OH MY. WHAT IS THIS?!!!!
IT'S THE A TEAM! MR. T IS PERFECTLY DUBBED. Even the voice is close! Be still my heart, it was difficult to take my eyes off it - but I did...
and a good thing too!
DAFFY DUCK! SPEAKING ITALIAN! Interestingly, he had the very same speech impediment that he has here. A "bill impediment" Middle has told me, which I cannot explain but I know YOU KNOW. Wonderful.
But, at the same time:
Stracchino con yogurt? IS ON SALE.
Here's what I watched.
The opening credits to:
Love Fever - or FEVER OF LOVE - or One Life to Live...or SOME AMERICAN SOAP OPERA. Skillfully dubbed. Sadly for me, it was not All My Children. So I clicked the channel.
What's this?
A man. A woman. A man and a woman IN LOVE.
A baby.
A man and a woman IN LOVE with a baby.
A what? A STROLLER.
A man and a woman IN LOVE WITH A BABY AND A STROLLER.
If you love your baby you'll love this stroller.
(You know I don't speak Italian, right? Aren't you impressed?)
Click.
The Rowenta Pro Perfect steam iron is amazing.
I think, if I am understanding this, all you need to do is: press the steam button...
and a cloud of steam resembling a god or goddess floats down over your room and every garment you have ever owned magically prostrates itself, perfectly pressed, on your bed.
One button, I'm telling you.
Click.
It took me a little while to figure out what these chefs were doing. Chopping? Dicing? I had to check the view for a minute but when I turned back I saw:
they were dropping whole roasted chickens on to aluminum foil which was stretched across the room and DID NOT BREAK. Miraculous Italian Aluminum Foil!
Click.
AHA! I didn't tell you that I was stone-deaf (left side only) in Positano! It's true. On day two I woke up deaf. It was handy for sleeping well, but inconvenient in conversation and slightly dizzy making on walks. Because it was not painful it was only a nuisance and provided me with the perfect excuse for visiting the pharmacy. (I absolutely love pharmacies.) This is the spray they sold me, with ear drops, which I used faithfully for two more days to no avail. I knew what I needed was my baby ear syringe back home - alas, Italian mommies aren't instructed in sucking snot and ear goo from their infant's heads (can you imagine?) and no such thing was available. Here is an Italian illustration of the inside of my clogged ear! On television!
Even Senza Gas, my poor ear was cloggedcloggedclogged until TEN MINUTES AFTER I WAS IN MY HOUSE, when I used my diabolical, 24 year old, bulb ear thingy. And then? I was cured.
Click.
OH! A pirate! Talking to...
Winnie The Pooh? Wait...
a cat in a vest with glasses? Wait...
George from Seinfeld?
We may never know.
Click.
There are manymanymany mattresses on sale at this hour in Positano. This one seemed to be a good deal.
Click.
Please note: Channel 4 has very pretty station identification animations.
Click.
OH MY. WHAT IS THIS?!!!!
IT'S THE A TEAM! MR. T IS PERFECTLY DUBBED. Even the voice is close! Be still my heart, it was difficult to take my eyes off it - but I did...
and a good thing too!
DAFFY DUCK! SPEAKING ITALIAN! Interestingly, he had the very same speech impediment that he has here. A "bill impediment" Middle has told me, which I cannot explain but I know YOU KNOW. Wonderful.
But, at the same time:
Stracchino con yogurt? IS ON SALE.
Positano
There is no easy way to describe Positano.
I'm not talking about the town itself, although I have run out of adjectives for the town ...charming, gorgeous, steep....gorgeous (see?).
I'm talking about what Positano has come to mean to us. That is sort of hard to describe.
When we went there two years ago we had all kinds of plans. Seeing Paola was just one of the things we were going to do. I had met her before but we didn't have a relationship with her or her family. We had planned to do all the things one does in Positano: boat trips, beach visits, restaurant dining, a little shopping - perhaps a trip out of town. But you know what happened with that trip. (If you don't and want to know, shoot me an email.)
For this trip, K and Paola made a plan, and though I now see that Paola worked very hard to make everything perfect and wonderful about our visit (and she succeeded in every way) K and I did no planning at all - beyond getting ourselves there.
Once we arrived, we were swept up in Life In Positano and we gave ourselves up to it. We hurried to do a lot on the first day because, as I think I explained, we felt like there might be a chance that history would repeat itself.
But we settled down and, in the end, we were so relaxed and happy that I actually witnessed K on the beach doing nothing. This, my friends, is a great accomplishment.
Now we are home.
Now I have dozens of pictures to upload (fewer than you'd think - I also took time to just be in Positano).
Now I have stories of our trip...
So.
We found ourselves here.
Just breathe and look at it and try to remember that it is real.
It's impossibly beautiful.
Down below you can hear the scooters and the bus and the children and a dog barking. All around you see people walking and chatting and eating.
What do you do with yourself?
Fortunately, it was only ten in the morning.
Coffee.
It's important to sample all the possibilities, don't you think, Eurolush?
(Eurolush was just steps ahead of me on this trip and left us a lovely and very welcome bottle of wine!)
After a breakfast like that, one really should have a walk and take in the sights...
Tiny houses, in the rock, at the bus stop.
On the road to Ravello there is a huge version of this as a nativity. I need to find it in all the pictures...but that's all right - I have much more to post.
Here is K with a Fiat 500. Not Fabio's Fiat 500 - I'll show you that one later.
I am in love with this little car. K likes the Fiat 500 too - but he was in love with this boat:
and when it left the harbor, after a couple of days, he would look mournfully out to sea and say softly: my boat...?
As for me, I like scenes of daily life.
I could easily have purchased a broom like this and brought it home. I love this broom. It would have thrilled me. There is a lot of sweeping up done in Positano and Brizio made a great show of it, every once in a while, so we'd know how busy he can be.
We met this boat at the dock and went to Da Adolfo one day.
Crazy beautiful. And crazy AND beautiful.
We pulled in on the boat - thinking: this is nothing special a small shack close to the water... but we knew it had quite a reputation.
You skibble up the sturdy yet wonky-looking little dock and get yourself a chair. You gaze at the view. You swim. You slowly realize that the staff has just a wee snarky attitude (and I say it in the nicest way as everyone who works at Adolfo is funny and fun - and also because a certain little boy I know is very well known there, and goes, by himself, on the boat and swims and has carpaccio for lunch ALL THE TIME - so I don't wish to insult, but just to describe that people are fun and having fun ALL THE TIME at Adolfo) and we wanted to join in.
We ordered white wine and the waiter asked us if we would like it with a peach - in his accent we thought he was saying with a beach and assumed he was joking with us as the mood is very casual and fun....but NO - he really said PEACH and I smacked my forehead when I realized that local people, OF COURSE, have wine with a peach. (Which I will now try at home.)
K had the carpaccio - and now we see why that little boy likes it so much...
I had grilled mozzarella in lemon leaves. We had the nicest day there and, by the end, we were very comfortable and so happy we had gone.
We took the boat back and I watched as K grew more and more relaxed (which makes him even more good looking) and we arrived in town just as church had let out.
Let me tell you: there were so many wonderful people to spy on, outfits to see, conversations to overhear. For my first day or so in Positano, my incredible observational skills were worked to weariness there was so much to see.
But, that day, there was one group of ladies I spotted, sitting on a bench having their Sunday conversation.
K is very fast and knows that I must take pictures, hopefully stealthily, so as not to upset, and volunteered to pose for me.
Are they not lovely?
I am absolutely sure that had I introduced myself to them I could have gotten wonderful hugs and stories from each of them.
But I didn't need to meet these ladies to have time with a Nona. I had Paola's mom just down the stairs to hug me and feed me. And I will tell you about that tomorrow.
I have so much more to share - but, before I forget:
FOR BADGER, WHO MIGHT CUT ME, YO.
Paola's lemon tree covers one end of her terrace and has hundreds of lemons on it.
Very LARGE lemons.
In the end, what I've meant to say - and, see? I haven't really been able to put it into words, is that Positano will now be incredibly special for us - and not just two of us, but for four of us as we were fortunate enough to spend such an extraordinary time with such extraordinary friends.
I cannot begin to tell you what Paola did to make our trip special - that's it in fact: she made our trip what it was and we can only hope that we will be lucky enough to host the same kind of trip for her.
I'm not talking about the town itself, although I have run out of adjectives for the town ...charming, gorgeous, steep....gorgeous (see?).
I'm talking about what Positano has come to mean to us. That is sort of hard to describe.
When we went there two years ago we had all kinds of plans. Seeing Paola was just one of the things we were going to do. I had met her before but we didn't have a relationship with her or her family. We had planned to do all the things one does in Positano: boat trips, beach visits, restaurant dining, a little shopping - perhaps a trip out of town. But you know what happened with that trip. (If you don't and want to know, shoot me an email.)
For this trip, K and Paola made a plan, and though I now see that Paola worked very hard to make everything perfect and wonderful about our visit (and she succeeded in every way) K and I did no planning at all - beyond getting ourselves there.
Once we arrived, we were swept up in Life In Positano and we gave ourselves up to it. We hurried to do a lot on the first day because, as I think I explained, we felt like there might be a chance that history would repeat itself.
But we settled down and, in the end, we were so relaxed and happy that I actually witnessed K on the beach doing nothing. This, my friends, is a great accomplishment.
Now we are home.
Now I have dozens of pictures to upload (fewer than you'd think - I also took time to just be in Positano).
Now I have stories of our trip...
So.
We found ourselves here.
Just breathe and look at it and try to remember that it is real.
It's impossibly beautiful.
Down below you can hear the scooters and the bus and the children and a dog barking. All around you see people walking and chatting and eating.
What do you do with yourself?
Fortunately, it was only ten in the morning.
Coffee.
It's important to sample all the possibilities, don't you think, Eurolush?
(Eurolush was just steps ahead of me on this trip and left us a lovely and very welcome bottle of wine!)
After a breakfast like that, one really should have a walk and take in the sights...
Tiny houses, in the rock, at the bus stop.
On the road to Ravello there is a huge version of this as a nativity. I need to find it in all the pictures...but that's all right - I have much more to post.
Here is K with a Fiat 500. Not Fabio's Fiat 500 - I'll show you that one later.
I am in love with this little car. K likes the Fiat 500 too - but he was in love with this boat:
and when it left the harbor, after a couple of days, he would look mournfully out to sea and say softly: my boat...?
As for me, I like scenes of daily life.
I could easily have purchased a broom like this and brought it home. I love this broom. It would have thrilled me. There is a lot of sweeping up done in Positano and Brizio made a great show of it, every once in a while, so we'd know how busy he can be.
We met this boat at the dock and went to Da Adolfo one day.
Crazy beautiful. And crazy AND beautiful.
We pulled in on the boat - thinking: this is nothing special a small shack close to the water... but we knew it had quite a reputation.
You skibble up the sturdy yet wonky-looking little dock and get yourself a chair. You gaze at the view. You swim. You slowly realize that the staff has just a wee snarky attitude (and I say it in the nicest way as everyone who works at Adolfo is funny and fun - and also because a certain little boy I know is very well known there, and goes, by himself, on the boat and swims and has carpaccio for lunch ALL THE TIME - so I don't wish to insult, but just to describe that people are fun and having fun ALL THE TIME at Adolfo) and we wanted to join in.
We ordered white wine and the waiter asked us if we would like it with a peach - in his accent we thought he was saying with a beach and assumed he was joking with us as the mood is very casual and fun....but NO - he really said PEACH and I smacked my forehead when I realized that local people, OF COURSE, have wine with a peach. (Which I will now try at home.)
K had the carpaccio - and now we see why that little boy likes it so much...
I had grilled mozzarella in lemon leaves. We had the nicest day there and, by the end, we were very comfortable and so happy we had gone.
We took the boat back and I watched as K grew more and more relaxed (which makes him even more good looking) and we arrived in town just as church had let out.
Let me tell you: there were so many wonderful people to spy on, outfits to see, conversations to overhear. For my first day or so in Positano, my incredible observational skills were worked to weariness there was so much to see.
But, that day, there was one group of ladies I spotted, sitting on a bench having their Sunday conversation.
K is very fast and knows that I must take pictures, hopefully stealthily, so as not to upset, and volunteered to pose for me.
Are they not lovely?
I am absolutely sure that had I introduced myself to them I could have gotten wonderful hugs and stories from each of them.
But I didn't need to meet these ladies to have time with a Nona. I had Paola's mom just down the stairs to hug me and feed me. And I will tell you about that tomorrow.
I have so much more to share - but, before I forget:
FOR BADGER, WHO MIGHT CUT ME, YO.
Paola's lemon tree covers one end of her terrace and has hundreds of lemons on it.
Very LARGE lemons.
In the end, what I've meant to say - and, see? I haven't really been able to put it into words, is that Positano will now be incredibly special for us - and not just two of us, but for four of us as we were fortunate enough to spend such an extraordinary time with such extraordinary friends.
I cannot begin to tell you what Paola did to make our trip special - that's it in fact: she made our trip what it was and we can only hope that we will be lucky enough to host the same kind of trip for her.
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