a thank you note

Dear Mom,

YOU ARE THE COOLEST. That cable-down raglan sweater I asked you to knit for me is the best! It fits perfectly and that little extra I asked you to add to the sleeves is just right. The color, sunshine yellow...wonderful, and so functional, too. I definitely won't get run over while out wandering the Maberga road at night. This sweater is completely worth the 7 trips you had to make to the yarn shop to get the right magazine because I told you the wrong one.

I so totally hope that I inherited some of your knitterness, you know, in addition to those Moersch bad hips.

Would I be pressing my luck to ask for this?

many many thanks and much much love from your favorite daughter,

Lynn

PS. The peanut butter cookies you added to the package with the sweater are, um, I mean, were awesome. THANK YOU.

LOOK WHAT I FOUND IN MY HOUSE!

Just before my stint here alone started, I hatched an idea for a new series of posts. These posts would be called "Look what I found in my house!" and each one would feature a stunning portrait of some new and interesting creepy crawly that I discovered somewhere inside my house.

In preparation I even photographed a fella (who I think came in with the sheets off the line). I actually made a whole photo shoot before I let him back outside...I got him in action, under a jar, on his feet, on his back, every angle was covered. I even put a piece of fruit next to him for a size perspective. Unfortunately for you all, David took the camera with him ... Fortunately for you all, I love playing with the Paint program on my computer (Ok, I don't really love it - actually I find it really limiting and frustrating, but it's all I've got) so I whipped you up a drawing.

Just curious

I had a thought driving home tonight after work...

If you run into a wild boar will it total your car like a deer does?

Alone on the side of a mountain

For the next 6 months, off and on, I will be alone in Maberga. David's landed a dream job.


Day 3


Wake up, on the couch.

Let dogs out to pee.

Pee myself.



Have a coffee.

Write a little.



Knit a lot.





Take dogs for walk to Maberga Soprana.

Knit.

Have a coffee.




Make jewelry.





Dance.





Make more jewelry.

Make lunch.

Eat it.

Knit.

Check email.


Have a coffee.

Check 5-6 different blogs.

Realize that no one has added new posts since 1 am when I checked last time.

Get pissed off.

Realize I haven't posted on MY blog for ages...

The Culture Clash Collection - chapter 27

I’m home alone. David made one of his 36 hour trips to Murano in Venice to buy me some beads. Driving home from work I decided that I wanted pizza for dinner - a good ol’ fashioned, American frozen pizza.

I ran into the supermarket, b-lined for the frozen food section. While passing ice mountains covered by fresh fish, carts and racks and bins of amazing handmade cheeses, and the mile long deli with every size, color, flavor, and age of prosciutto I remembered that I’d finished the potato chips at lunch. Having an hankerin’ for some sea salt and vinegar chips, I begrudgingly perused my choices - cheese puffs, 300gr bag of plain chips, 500gr bag of plain chips or peanuts. On my way back from the junk food aisle I passed the fruits and vegetables. Fresh artichokes, peppers, aubergines, multi-colored pears, tangerines… I thought of the poor puppies at home, closed in for two days since it’s been raining. I grabbed a bag of lemons.

Just about ready to head to the check out, I spotted a friend. I could see from the other end of the store Robbi’s buggie filled with all kinds of cheeses, meats, veggies, pastas, fruit juices, bottled waters. I looked down at the stash I’d collected – a frozen pizza, an extra large bag of chips, a bottle of wine, a box of gum and some lemons.

I hid.

Have you ever wondered what other people notice about you?

Here's what some students noticed about David.

his big blue eyes

his solid body frame

his big hands and ears

These people noticed his.....

his long legs.

This person really captured his swollen throat, atrophied left leg and additional left hand digits.

And my favorite...the person who was really struck by how David creates a party (or chaos, depending on your perspective) and encourages everyone to sing (or scream, again, depending on your perspective).

On a completely unrelated note, the weather is warm and sunny prompting David to do this:

me to do these:

how did I miss that?

I pull over in front of the bank and double park. Put the flashers on feeling confident of not getting a ticket. It’s a small car, if someone really needs it to be moved they can just push it a little. Plus, I’m just going to the cash machine, not into the bank with it’s long lines and forever waits.

I run past the front of the bank to the side door where the cash machine is. I need to recharge my cell phone which can be done in any number of ways, my favorite being the cash machine. Of course we’re talking here about recharging the phone with money, not electricity.

I take note that the cash machine is new. Well, new to me. I don’t come to the cash machine very much. Put card in, type pin, machine rejects card.

I run to the front of the bank, check that car hasn’t been moved and doesn’t have a ticket, then insert myself into the Star Trek tube like security entrance of the bank. A bank employee beams me in. Lucky day – no other customers, no line! I wait 10 minutes for the teller to finish his conversation with his co-workers.

While waiting I look around. All the signs are different. Actually, all the signs are the same but with a different name at the top. Seems my bank has been bought or sold, probably both.

“Ciao, Mimmo. ”

“Ciao. Umm, Good Mooorning.” Mimmo likes to practice his English.

“La banca ha cambiato nome?” I like to practice my italian.

“Si. Umm, yes, new name. Nothing change. Maybe better.”

Hmmm, I wonder how I missed this small thing.

“Puoi farmi una promemoria?”

“Yes, balance of account. Number of account?”

“Non lo so.” I never know my account number, it’s only four numbers, I don’t know why it’s so difficult for me to remember. This coming from the girl who still remembers her home phone number and that of her best friend when she was 8. Maybe if I clear out those old numbers I could fit in those four of my bank account.

I open my wallet, shuffling through it, pretending to look for where I’ve written the number down, which of course I haven’t. Mimmo waits. I hand him my debit card.

“Puoi trovarlo con questa?”

“Yes, I can look it with that. Number of account doesn’t change but must change it - the card.”

Hmm. That’s good to know.

“Ecco. Balance of account.”

“Posso cambiare la carta adesso?”

“You want change card now? Ok.”

“Si. Sarebbe meglio, no?”

“Yes. Better with new card. Doesn’t work, old card.”

I get back in my ticketless car, turn off the flashers and head home with my new debit card from my new bank thinking how lucky it was for me that my phone ran out of money.