uffa, i feel like a stuffed pig. FL and I decided on a home-cooked meal of pasta all'ammatriciana (a Roman classic), a rich, spicy tomato base cooked with onion, garlic, pancetta, and lots and lots of chilies. Was fabulous, and we were both perspiring it was so spicy, unable to stop ourselves it was so savory. I think I had even "forgotten" how good the food is here: how lunch is not a turkey sandwich- it is veal scallopini, slices of prosciutto over melon, fresh salads of garden vegetables, a cool glass of tocai, made by a friend of a friend down the street. Everything seems so lavish, yet simple. And they think nothing of it.
Tonight we went and studied our languages, he English, me Italian. Some of our fresh new words include: Crumb (briciola), Lazybones (fannullona), climb (arrampicarsi), to lean (essere inclinato). This was undertaken over a nice glass of Franciacorta, which for me is the king of all spumantes, the most killer sparkling wine the world has to cherish (from a region in Lombardia which holds the same name). We laughed adoringly at FLs mom; she was watching soccer and shouting, "corner! corner"! English all around!
A motorcycle ride this evening reacquainted me the area. We rode out into Collio, through the hills, such stunning scenery, green and lush, the ground terraced to make room for all the grape vines. Castles and beautiful houses and horses dot the landscape, and the air is so cool here it feels like autumn.
Have been offered a possible position as a nanny for a family with a little boy, about my godson jack's age. Sounds like a decent gig, but payment will have to be negotiated. Regardless, I will be fine, I will make do. I will never, ever starve. I will never, ever be cold. I will never, ever be lonely.