Common Days...

I made plans to stay in Italy long enough to 'just live' the Italian lifestyle, not planning to live the tourist life.

But of course there's been so much to divert my attention!

Not being very good at pacing myself, I also crash

for a few days at intervals.

Today I rose from a good crash, no plans awaited, the sun made outdoors almost hot and I got to 'just live.'

Lunched at one of our favorite little places where they treat us well.  No one there speaks Inglese so when we walk in, 

they type up the varying menu in Google Translate.  
Creative guys!

My vocabulary served me to learn that the croissant contained cheese and salami.  That sounded good and the fresh zucchini salad looked appealing.  No Google needed today!

I've mentioned that one of the best things about Italian food is that it's real - fresh and healthy.

Imagine finding fresh zucchini salad to replace greasy French fries!  It tasted even better than it looked.

Cooked to perfection, lots of buono olio d'oliva and just the right amount of their strong sea salt.

Then I wandered the coastline on a day that filled every requirement of 'gorgeous.'

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

                I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

             To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

The sea calls from a primitive place deep within me.

Coming from dry land, land locked farming country,

its call remains a mystery.  Do all Aquarians feel its pull?

This one certainly does!

What calls?  The vastness?

The crystal, pristine quality?

Its rhythm?

Its beauty?

Its serendipity?

The walk and the outdoor air made the gelato shop enticing!

As I walked, I realized I am feeling at home in this foreign, Italian-tongued city.  Home beckons just above the white car, on the upper floor.

And then home for the reality of 'just living.'  The recent storm salted us.  With company coming tomorrow, the weather declared that the time had arrived to clear the windows.

Balsamic vinegar worked just fine for washing windows!

As dusk crept in, I pondered that I could amost be in San Diego.

Except I wouldn't hear church bells jangling at random intervals,
nor overlook a castle,

nor look down upon a car driving over a sidewalk to head down a narrow, cobblestone street,

nor look up from a balcony to this sight.

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

John Masefield