mercoledi

Today is Wednesday, market day. Sometimes I do need to shop, however reluctantly, and here Wednesday is shopping day. I drove this morning, because I needed to go further after the market.

The sun was gorgeous, and the market seemed to be particularly colourful. At the point where the road is closed for the morning market three men stood in animated conversation. There was a good positive energy around them. I absorbed some of their energy and decided that yes, I was very glad I had come. I had been working too hard, away from people, for too many weeks. My whole approach to the morning changed on that encounter. I remembered why I am living here, how important it is to be among people, and how beautiful this life can be.

Instead of rushing to buy the things I needed I took time to enjoy an exchange with a charming young vendor who delights in flattering passing females as he tries (not too hard) to sell underwear. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed his charades and harmless banter. He can call me "La bella signora" any day. Then on to the linen merchants, to browse. They don't pressure me to buy; they know that last year, week by week, I bought from them everything I needed.

On to buy what I really needed, and then, just to prove I do have some heart, to the butchers to get a little something for Zacchi. This week I remembered to buy bread early, sometimes I miss out.

As I ambled back towards my end of the village the three men were in the same spot, still enjoying their animated discussion. I had only been an hour and a half I think... and I was so busy enjoying this sight, and wondering what their wives were buying while they waited, that I clean forgot that I had driven, not walked, the 2 kilometres from home this morning. I was well past my car when I remembered.

A chance encounter with Nonno (Grandad) at the market saw me eating pranzo (the full Italian lunch) with my friend with the new glasses. That was fun. We have little secrets when Nonno is out of the room, about who is the current 9 year old girlfriend and how many bits of salami can safely be munched without being caught. He is my best Italian teacher, clear, patient, and knows how to rephrase things so that I will understand. He was 6 when we first met, and back then he was worried that if I couldn't speak Italian, and had noone to speak English to, when I went back to New Zealand I wouldn't be able to talk at all. I try to teach him English, but I fear that he is the better language teacher.

Then it was home to pick my oranges, as I had seen a bag of them disappearing yesterday as I returned (minus the naughty Zacchi) from a shorter than usual walk. Obviously the culprit thought his need was greater than mine. So this evening I shall deliver oranges to all my friends. He was right, I can't eat 4 trees of oranges and 2 of mandarins all by myself. But I prefer to offer, rather than have them walk. This morning I met his anxious query about all being OK with my normal greeting and a kiss on both cheeks. He knows that I know, and I wont say anything.