Friday, July 26, 2013

On one side, my home is located across the street from the village hardware FERRAMENTA. It is like the old home-town hardware stores with the scent of tools, rubber, wood.... spices of the male world, so to speak. It is not easy to find, and yet all of Menaggio will cross its threshhold. It is the only hardware store and they are characters. I watch from my KItchen balcony as all Menaggio Mankind enters across the street. I never thought there might be stories and a backdrop for great story telling found in a local hardware: now I know. Fabrizio is one of the two grown sons who work there. He is a breath of fresh air. Sweet, cute, lanky and a personality that exudes of loving life ! I will be greeted in Italian "Ciao Judy. What a wonderful day. The sun. It is great!" His father , Tino is a bit of a dirty old man. He keeps the books and watches the sons. He has made reference several times to my 'top shelf' as I like to refer to my breasts. I try not to be offended, because I want to get along with the one hardware store folks across the street. I want to be a non event in the indignant  department in this village. One day, he said in italian "Nice balconies" I said "che- what?". He said he was not be rude , but that is a 'saying' in italian that refers to a woman's breasts! Then, he said "others call it a BIG PLAYGROUND. But, that is not as nice." So, he really called mine a big playground! You know where his brain went for more than a split second. I laughed to ease any potential of tension.

Later on that evening, I ran into a twenty something gal who is 4 feet 10 inches with the boobs the size of the Queen Mary's ships' bumpers. I said "If I have nice balconies, then YOU HAVE SPACIOUS TERACES!"

At any rate, I love that life passes by me each and every day- with varying vantage points. I like the feel, the texture of it. A picture is painted in front of me daily! What a treat.

The other night, I wandered into the piazza, which is a 2 minute walk from my home. An American true 2 minute walk. NOT a European 2 minute walk, which really means 10 minutes. At any rate, as I entered the piazza -there was a band set up. BIG BAND. I knew one of the band members, and went up before the concert to say "HI" and let him know he had a fan in the audience. It was just happenstance. How delightful. I got a glass of white wine from one of the local bars along the piazza and stood, somewhat hidden on the sidelines just people watching. The little ones running in the piazza, with ice cream cones... or just enjoying a summers carefree eve of childhood. I watched one German family- a father, mother and young daughter with their golden retriever. They were a handsome family, and it was fun to watch the nuances of their communications. There was a pubescent young boy/man? sitting next to their girl. You could tell he didn't know where to put his arm.... so he put it out between his and hers. Getting as close as he could without having to worry about rejection. She sat as far to the other side with her arms cross: lest they might touch in that intersection between his and her seat. Such young angst. Then, there were two little boys- brothers. When the music was playing, the younger (4 years?) was sitting there the entire time with his fingers in his earlobes to block out the sound. Meanwhile, his legs  were bouncing with the beat of the music. He was annoying his 6 year old brother by trying to kiss him. The father was fabulous in his response to the behavior.... Not saying a word, he wrapped his arms in his youngest sons arms... as he stood behind him. It was lovely. I was departing, and spotted Diego, so I went over and sat by him. The band played snippets of an amazing variety of American music: from Cole Potter, Louis Armstrong, Broadway show tunes, Porgy and Bess, ....... I just loved loved loved it. I was finally the ONLY ONE in the audience who knew ALL the songs. I have been in the sea of an audience where it was ME who was the only one who didn't know the music. I hummed along and felt uplifted and glad I had just happened upon this event.

Last night I went with a group of new and old friends to Isola Comacina ( pronounced "EEZ OH LAH       COH MAH CHEE NAH" ) the only island in the middle of the lake. It was fabulous, leaning into the curves, feeling the wind in your face, smelling the flowers that we passed.... i totally get the thrill. my head never allowed me to go there as traveling with a motor cycle or motor bike or moped makes no sense in terms of safety. Intellectually I have been committed to that. But, on these roads.... it is magical. When you snow ski, you feel as if you are part of the mountain. Last night I felt like I was part of the Path, the VIA.

A beautiful boat picked us up from the LIDO of OSSUCCIO. None of us, including the Italians had ever been there. I have always accessed Isola Comacina from the town of SALA COMACINA.
You walk down this very long, slowly steeping stone street. The Lido has grass, instead of beach- which is the softest blanket. Cool and crisp. There was a restaurant, lots of stone tables and benches, and access to the lake by stone steps. The water was a perfect temperature and I long to go in. I will not swim alone, so I will wait for Carlyle and Casey. From here: this sexy boat (like private taxi boats in Venice) it was a 3 minute ride to the island, with lake breezes. Two drinks and a buffet were included. I had prosecco. It was a gravel terrace with tables and chairs along the waterfront of the island. Some kind of stupid metal music was being played by a too young disc jockey.... The food was an interesting mix: carrots with vinegar-sort of.......pasta tuna salad with tomatoes, a round of parmesean (sp) cheese... which was cool. They cut up the cheese into finger sized bits, and served it from the WAX WHEEL, that was used as the serving bowl. Tipped on its side, the top was cut, so that the bowl could also 'roll a bit'. There were half large onions, broiled with balsalmic venegar. And, potato chips. Always potato chips. . 9:30pm, as the night was upon us, and the lights along the lake side twinkled, we took our quick boat trip back. Strapping on my helmut, My friend and I went about 10 years in his motorbike before it went kaput. Gotta love life.

I was transported back in another kind of motorbike back to my home. Chariot ride successfully completed,I again ambled into the piazza. 5 minutes of walking in the fresh air, greeting friends and becoming one with my village.

Hope that yours is a great day. I never proof read my writing. I know that there are a few mistakes, but the print today seems small and I am too lazy to futz with it.

smiles,
judy