Pensieri "Thoughts"

It was un bel giorno ieri, a beautiful day yesterday. A bit warmer, the sun was out for most of the day which made it a perfect day for walking in the park. I am now wearing a pair of jeans I have not been able to wear for the better part of a year. They don’t look great, but they’re on, zipped, and I can still breathe. What more could I ask?

What am I eating, you ask? Well, I still eat pasta every other day or so and pizza twice a week. I popped into a small shop specializing in Tuscan products and was lured by a sample of toast with Crotona olive oil and a truffle sauce. I bought a small jar of the truffle sauce, but not the olive oil as I had previously bought a liter from a young woman roadside near San Gimignano. The truffle sauce is 1% truffles and the rest is olive oil, salt, olives, and mushrooms. It comes in a jar of 2.82 ounces for $6.50. I’ll again let you do the math. I liked it though and had some for lunch on my pasta. I eat lots of olive oil…perhaps why my cholesterol was down at the last doctor’s visit. I have proscuitto and salami and bread. I made a wonderful chicken soup yesterday. Potatoes, chicken breast, chicken broth, with the addition of some cooked garlic, celery, onions, red pepper and salt. To die for! Best chicken soup I have ever eaten. The foods here are more natural, often organic, and just not as processed as ours and have a wonderful taste and freshness. The tomatoes are delightful!

I am engaging in a prehistoric precursor to flirting with a man who works in a small gallery near the café. I stare at him and he obligingly stares back. Sometimes I smile, and he gives me the most luminescently beautiful smile I have ever seen. We’re now rapidly getting to the point where I ignore him because I could never walk in a talk to him, and how long can you stare like a sheep into the back corner of the gallery looking for him without being too obvious? Besides, he is beautiful enough to be a model or to date a model, and I am just plain me, so obviously American, without the natural style and sleekness of many Italian women. Rather like a circus pony in a field of thoroughbreds. Don’t get me wrong, I rather like me the way I am, but I certainly stand out as American.

I have not heard from the Italian in several days so am not sure what his plans with regard to this weekend are. I hope he is not coming here out of some misguided sense of pity because I am alone. Perhaps he might feel I need to be taken care of as he seems to be the kind of man who cares for others. I am thriving and doing well. I find that with plenty of rest and little stress I have a sunny disposition. Who’d have thought it?