There is nothing like spring in the paese.
Okay.
So maybe there is.
It's fall in the paese.
But in the fall there are no peas.
And no cherries, blossoms or lip-staining fruit.
Or wisteria.
Or hills dotted with trees rich with purple.
No eager vines already bursting with this fall's harvest.
No glorious fields of gold.
(Think Sting was referring to rapeseed or wheat?)
So.
There is nothing like spring in the paese.
No place with as many dandelion wishes, for sure.
Nothing that gives me quite the headache,
Or causes quite the itch in my throat.
Ah, such is spring in the paese!
And there is
Nothing
Like spring
In the paese.
.........
And that is as close as I am going to get to poetry, my friends.
Don't forget, April is National Poetry Month. Have you selected a poem to share on Poem in My Pocket Day? April 24.
I hope to add a second page for December 15 that includes snapshots of the party we hosted Sunday, especially the kids performing in the musical review. Saturday Richard brought in mics and speakers and other little elements of technology that I don't understand to prep for the show. Like old times for him. I think he kind of liked it.
I'm struggling with the privacy issues again. Nothing has ever happened, ever. But these aren't all my kids. Trust me, there are big bright smiles behind those turquoise ovals.
See you here soon, I hope.
We have an incredibly busy week ahead with a dance show, a school recital, a 50th birthday celebration, some baking, an arts and crafts play date, and, weather permitting, a Santa run! And this is all before Sunday. It just wears me out thinking about it. There is no place like home.
And, oh, that Prosecco & Chambord cocktail is a perfect holiday treat. Try it!
Each year a few people in the "old" section of the paese, not to be confused with the "new" section or the people not on the hill, organize a block party. With our summer schedule, we usually miss it. Not this year. We three were there in the company of 137 of our neighbors.
I remember the only other time I attended, the summer we first moved into the paese: I felt extremely uncomfortable and completely out of place. No one cared to chat with us; we stuck closely to the other expat family in the hood. The evening went on and on and on.
I've been happy to be able to avoid the festa since then.
Can you spot Richard?
But I have to tell you, we have officially turned a corner here in the paese, folks. We know people, they know us. Locals are not afraid of us. They know that we are not leaving. They know we are good people. We are, indeed, good people.
Last night several strangers approached us to introduce themselves. Many mentioned the volunteering that Richard did at the local sagra in May. Just as that would leave an impression in the States, it did here. I also met a journalist from the Giornale di Vicenza who lives here who quickly connected me with a local photography group.
Did you see Young One?
There was a light dinner that was put together by the organizers. Lots of wine. Deserts that everyone contributed. Recognition of the oldest, youngest, and newest residents. A few raffles. And a DJ. And a lot of happy people, young and old, dancing the night away. The piazzetta in the paese was rockin'.
And we were completely a part of it.
Five years...that's how long we've been here. We've come a long way.
............
PS. The photos and videos were taken with my iPhone 5. I love that little thing.
This kiddo is happy to be back with her Italian peeps, and they have welcomed her home to the paese with gusto. No one here has a pool, and to go to a pool costs money and takes time and "We're going to the seaside next week anyway." So. Where there is a will there is a way, right?
It's good to be home. Tonight we are going to a block party with 140 of our neighbors in the paese. Down in the piazzetta, right past the tiny grocery store. Don't try coming up our hill because the road will be closed, my friends. Party in the paese.
PS. They are going to the seaside. Remember beautiful Caorle? We will just melt here and wish we were at the seaside with the rest of the citizens of Veneto.
The first thing we did after dropping off our over-stuffed bags was to visit the grocery store, where we bought mostly fresh produce but also prosciutto and cheese (2 kinds) and yogurt made from Alpine cows.
And a living basil plant.
And 6 fresh eggs.
And Prosecco. 2 bottles.
I'm so happy to be home. I think we have sufficient supplies to hibernate until the weekend. (Only two bottles? Have no fear, the cantina under the stairs is stocked.)
I'll see you around here soon. Right now I'm throwing all advice about jet lag aside and going to my bed that I miss so much.
I'm never traveling again.
Until next month, that is. Can anybody say, "Road Trip?!?! "
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