Graduation time. Seafood stew and BLTs. Simple when everyone helps; some of us cook, cook, cook and wash dishes, wash dishes, wash dishes. Others lend a hand; some keep the freezer full of ice cream.
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Thoughts about coffee on way home from Florence, via Frankfurt, to Boston. Note to Self: Upon entering the Florence airport, do not ever again pay 2 euro for a cappuccino, even if you are in desperate need of caffeine. Instead, take the escalator up one floor, check in, go through security (both of which are a snap in Florence), walk through the Duty Free area to the waiting lounge. and pay 1.20 euro. Speaking of the cost of coffee, prices have risen since I was in Florence three months ago. There are fewer and fewer place to get a cappuccino for 1.20. In fact, 1.30 is becoming a good deal. Those places with fancy, contemporary facelifts have the jumped their prices to 1.50. So, step away from the main tourist streets and fight inflation. Why do I bring this up? I can afford the increase, but I like to live frugally when I can. I usually don’t do the math, but I do with coffee. An increase of .60 euro for two cups a day comes to 4.20 euro for the week. That’s an added $4.75 for coffee. As far as buying coffee in the States, I make it at home. if I buy one large cup a day at the Dunkin’ Donuts a day, I’m heading toward spending $1000 a year. Hey, that’s an airline ticket to Florence. Please don’t suggest that when I’m in Italy I brew my coffee before I set out to walk the streets. It’s not the same, and besides, I’m on vacation. Two days into the purging and I’m still at it. If I can do a little each day, it will get done—whatever that means. Today I spent no more than ten minutes getting rid of cookbooks. There is more room on the shelf, and I am free from household obligations for the rest of the day. I kept enough books to lift something different out of the oven and onto the table every day, even if I live to be my mother's age of one hundred one. But that’s not going to happen—the cooking part, anyway. The those Italian meals are still salivating in my mouth, so here at home I may stick to alternating between hamburgers and salmon. Tonight it’s hamburgers minus the wine. As I mentioned, just the other day but also since the beginning of this blog over six years ago, I very much want to live more in the present, in the NOW. Although it has been two steps forward, eight back, five forward, and on and on, I now believe I am ahead of where I started. This trip particularly feels that way as I settle into living my life, my life right now, here in Florence for the next twelve days. Practicing living here, if only for a short time, includes routines that I have at home. Let’s start with sleeping. Last night’s twelve hours caught me up on my jetlag; I slept until 8:30 but beginning tonight I am back to going to bed and getting up early. Then there is the prayer and meditation in my favorite churches. I walk more in Florence than another time or place in my entire life-to my favorite museums, churches, gardens and restaurants, and just to wander about, observing and being in the moment. As far as reading, writing and some eating go, this apartment is comfy just like home, and with the added touch of a violin serenade by a street musician four floors below. I just finished my lunch. I am going to post this NOW and then go off for my afternoon walk, probably to the Boboli Gardens. It is warm and sunny so I’d better seize the day. I’ll post some photos later, and another day I’ll show you the apartment. Being me NOW means that I don’t stay sedentary for very long. Ciao. A few days ago I ‘promised’ that on this trip I would write in all the libraries I could discover in Florence. Well, a promise broken as a different rhythm has developed. I’ve gone to my two favorites, the Guelph and Oblate, but have also discovered a marvelous café on the colonnade along Piazza dell Repubblica. Yesterday it was raining but I was cozy and content at the RED Café at La Felltrinelli RED: RED as in Read, Eat, Dream. I was writing, not reading, as well as eating and dreaming, but this place is also a book store, and besides, they have to keep in tune with their RED motif. Today is sunny. At the Galleria dell’Accademia I visited Michelangelo’s David and Bound Slaves as well as the extensive gallery of twelfth, thirteenth and early fourteenth century paintings that decorated the churches in the city. Now I’m back writing at the RED. So you see, I am fulfilling my promise to write. Solitary travel, especially staying in one place for a length of time, offers no excuse, and so I have been writing at libraries, cafes and my apartment. There is plenty of time to sight see, walk, and of course eat, as well as write. Every hour of the day is mine. Along with the blog writing, I’ve participated in what those in educational circles call ‘pre-writing’, which really is thinking about your writing. I’ve done a lot of that as I’ve wandered about Florence, but as we all know, too much pre-writing means not much real-writing. Finally, however, I have gained clarity about the direction I want for Very Grateful, and so, I have opened the screen and begun to write—with the ‘promise’ to finish by the end of the month. Leading a simple life is complex. What might be a simple task for some of us, is incredibly complex for others. I’ve been thinking about this because this afternoon I’ve agreed to assist the youth group at church in making meals for some of our older members who can use a little help. As we prepare the meals, I want the young people to get a sense of what it’s like for someone who has given up driving, who is now cut off from easy visits to the supermarket. I want them to understand that it is not just a question of transportation. Even when the elderly are given a ride to the store, they have to exert a great deal of energy to purchase the ingredients for even a simple tuna casserole: they have to make a list, remember to take it with them, make the purchases, bring them into the house, and put them away before the cooking even begins. This can be a big ordeal as people get older. And what about the men, who, well into their eighties now have to start cooking and being the person in the kitchen? Simple for me, overwhelming to someone else. The other day a friend wrote that she was dealing with a broken dishwasher. She didn’t say how much time or psychic energy it was taking, but she did imply that it was stressful and annoying. Although it occurred to me that if she didn’t have a dishwasher or didn’t use a dishwasher, she would be free of such interruptions, I refrained from offering such a judgment. As part of my on-going search for simplicity, however, I have some thoughts on the pros and cons of dishwasher use. Full disclosure, I have a dishwasher, which I love when family comes. But when it’s just the two of us, it sits empty, thus keeping my life simple and saving power. Inevitably with a half filled dishwasher, there’s a dirty dish sitting there that I need; I run out of knives, forks and spoons. So out they come to be washed and used. All this back and forth consumes more time and decision-making energy than if I had keep up with the washing after each meal. The worst time stealer, however, is the time it takes to unload the machine. As far as money stealer, there’s the cost and use of electricity to heat the water and run the machine. And let’s not forget that with frequent use, I’d have to replace the machine more frequently. There must be some statistic that tells the number cycles your average machine can offer. I am aware that a dishwasher sterilizes in a way that hand washing doesn’t. But that’s another topic—how sterile do we have to be? Meanwhile I love the simplicity in a culture that has become obsessed with hand sanitizers. Finally, solitude after a three-day marvelous whirl with my siblings in Minneapolis to celebrate our niece’s marriage. These kinds of reunions are never quiet; it’s not their nature. Since I usually travel alone, I’m not used to chatter in hotel rooms, discussions about the day’s plans, or eating meal after meal with others. No complaints, just an observation. As we were eating lunch the other day, my brother noted that this was the first time ever that just the four of us had shared a meal together. When I think of it, that is remarkable; but it’s also remarkable that our Mom died three years ago at age 101. Many of our recent gatherings had involved being with her and the extended family. And then there are all those meals together when we were kids! So here I am at the airport waiting for my flight to Boston; my sisters are on their way to New York and Washington DC, my brother to Portland, Oregon. I’ll post this when I get home. Here are a few glimpses into my current experiment in living in Florence. Random thoughts. Nothing too startling, just life as it happens. The best news is that my niece has been in town; it’s been great fun showing her around and sharing a few meals with her. A lovely break from solitude and living here alone. No question, a few plans with family and friends are all part of the balance. In the late afternoon yesterday we happened up the monks singing Mass at San Miniato. Beautiful. Soon after that we were almost locked in at the cemetery behind the church. Um, can’t have enough reminders—watch the time. A couple of hours later, as we were enjoying dinner at Piazza Santo Spirito, a woman at the table next to us let out a scream. With that two men at a nearby table jumped over the plexiglass barrier, ran around the corner and out of sight. Five minutes later they returned the woman’s pocketbook, took their seats, and enjoyed a sip of wine. Evidently a young man had grabbed the bag but dropped it on the road when he realized he was being chased. Um, can’t have enough reminders—watch your bag. I’ve been writing at the nearby library every morning. Except for the occasional scraping of chairs on the stone floor, it is incredibly quiet in there. People are writing and studying, but step out to answer their phone. Today I bought a skein of ‘Alpaca Baby’ wool at a yarn store that I found on line a year ago. When traveling I need something small and easy to knit—a cowl fits my specifications. If you’re a knitter, check the site out for fun. www.campolmifilati.it Home for the weekend. Spent Saturday morning cooking for next weekend when the family comes-- ‘meatballs-made-by-her’, brownies and chicken soup. I managed to hang the laundry in the cellar instead of throwing it in the dryer. Today my husband and I met his college roommate for lunch. Now we’re NOT watching the Super Bowl. Back and forth I go, from a simple life at the cottage to a more complex life at home. I try to keep it simple, but simple means different things in different contexts. I can’t simply eliminate the cooking, but cooking ahead simplifies things when kids and grandkids arrive. I know that hanging laundry isn’t as simple as using the dryer, but doing so helps me feel I am leading a more simple existence. Being with long-time friends has nothing to do with simplicity or complexity; it’s just a wonderful way to live. Finally, as far as the Super Bowl is concerned, take your pick, football of Downton Abbey. You ask about the picture? Just my simple spatula. Over the years it had become cut up and jagged and I thought I’d have to buy a new one. But, no, I simply gave it a trim, and here it is, as good as new. Keeping life simple whenever I can. |
Contact me: bobbifisher.mac@mac.com
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