blahhhhh

This morning I woke to the sound of heavy rain.  I slept late and dont even recall hearing the church bells signal the passing of each hour. It is a dreary day here and I dont feel like doing much.  Perhaps I will make some homemade soup and do some laundry and other housework.

Don is arriving on Monday and I am anxious to see him again, it seems so long since we have seen each other.  Although we only had 3 weeks to get aquainted before I left for Italy, we have talked almost everyday on the phone since, not to mention the countless emails back and forth.  I think we have both learned alot about each other while I have been here.  I am looking forward to playing tour guide and sharing my favorite places with him.  I wonder if he will feel as infatuated with Tuscany as I am.

The hotel is quiet today, the regular locals have come and gone this morning, drinking their coffee and chatting a few minutes with the owner before pulling up their hoods and opening their umbrellas to venture back out into the rain.  I wonder how they spend the rest of their days. 

This really is a quiet little town, sleepy almost, now that most of the tourists renting places here have left.  I have become familiar with some of the locals routines and I could set a clock by them.  The local women head down the hill each morning to the little CoOp grocery store to buy their food for the day.  Some of the older ladies, clothed in black, stooped over and wearing only slippers on their swollen feet, make this trek every morning and it is heartbreaking to watch their slow progress, especially when they are climbing back up the hill with their purchases.  I have offered to help, but they are very proud, and insist on doing it themselves.  There is a man who is 100 years old who walks every day, stooped over so low he can only see what is directly in front of his feet, as he shuffles along.  He uses two canes, which prevents him from using an umbrella.  His steps are tiny and he can barely lift his feet at all.  I cannot imagine how is does this in the winter.  I see him out and about several times a day and he always lifts his head to greet me with a smile on his face.  He also refuses any assistance, but I have noticed that some of the locals stop by to check on him throughout the day. 

There is another man that spends a half hour, several times a day, at the lookout point in town.  He never sits on the park benches but instead stands at the railings, surveying the valley below.  It is as if he knows every square inch of it and checks to ensure nothing has changed since his last visit there.  From the look on his face he loves this land, this place, this view.  He has probably spent his entire life here, as many of the elders here have.  I envy them.  They are not concerned with technology, the information age,the economic crisis, nor the pace of life in other parts of the world. Thier world is right here, in their village, with their neighbours and friends and families.  They look forward to every day and seem to truly appreciate the beauty surrounding them.  They are not rushed, thier lives are not hectic.  They seem so genuine, friendly and caring.  I will miss the way of life here when I go back home.

Ciao for now, time to go do housework....blahhhhhh
Diane