Saturday has arrived, and it’s time to do some laundry. The slow way, of course. I have not yet researched the reason, but no one seems to have dryers. Clothes are washed, hung to dry, and ironed. As a result, the process is extended, but so is the life of the clothing. During summer, it’s a simple and pleasant chore. However, I may revisit this issue come winter..
Strambino, the town where Luca’s parents live, reminds me a lot of Delaware. Cornfields for miles, humidity, bugs. As I was reminiscing about visiting my grandparents, I remembered the tea my grandma made in her backyard. The tea is warmed by the sun for a day, sweetened, then kept chilled in her refrigerator all summer long. The memory evolved into an obsession, so I bought some mason jars and made my own.
While I’m waiting for the laundry to dry, or the tea to brew; I read. S-L-O-W-L-Y. Luca’s brother, Marco, designs the layout for several magazines. He brings them home for me to practice reading. And I say this very loosely. I decipher the headings, and attempt to make meaning out of the articles.
Each day, I am overwhelmed with the exquisite beauty, and the eminent history that Torino and it’s surrounding countryside exhibits. I think Oscar sums it up best, as he describes his approach to Torino from the mountains (where I am currently residing).
I REACHED the Alps: the soul within me burned
Italia, my Italia, at thy name:
And when from out the mountain’s heart I came
And saw the land for which my life had yearned,
I laughed as one who some great prize had earned ~Oscar Wilde