Manly yes , but I like them too. His socks that is - though now it is hard to tell the difference between his and mine.
The seasons fashions here are changing. Not being a shoe or purse fanatic like some friends I have, I procrastinated and missed out on the "can-they-really be-leather-at-that-price"winter sales of all the black and brown boots. They have been replaced by the tan, white and puce colored boots of spring. ( Yes, Puce is a color. It is between brown ,grey with purple and greenish tinges.) Anyway....
We had the delight of having some friends visit from Tsawwassen! Although the weather was miserable , struggling to snow, with a few flakes here and there, it finally broke sun and it we had a great time. A highlight was going up Giotto's Tower, 413 steps, right next to the Duomo. We were right under the behemoth bells as they tolled. Being right under them as they peeled , they seemed aggressive, angry and agitatedly strong- not that gentle reminder of call to pray or to let you know what time it is or the constant friendly reminder of how great Florence is when you are far below. They reverberated right through our bodies like we were a wisp of smoke in the air. I was taken aback but I loved it! Who needs vibration therapy? Maybe a hearing aid :)....
We are now one quarter of the way through our time here. I am measuring time by how many bottles of sumptuous thick olive oil we have been through, our neighbor's full cycle of laundry color and that our peanut butter jar from home is almost empty. As we continue on this journey I still find things weird. Not in a negative way but just weird.
How much bread do I want? Well, a loaf, a baguette would be great!... not so?!?!... how many kilos of bread? do you want salted or unsalted? The loaves are gi-nornous! They dominate the patisicceria! If I didn't know better they rival the size of the bells in Giotto's Tower. The friendly man who is always three feet higher than me and looking down from his perch and over the wall of bread, asks" how much?" I mutter something that sounds like" mezza-kilo" or due grame ( 200 grams). He just cuts a slab from the large loaf and I come away grateful for whatever it is he gave me...
And now eggs. Each one has it's own id #. O.K. that is kinda cool, but why do they sell them in 4's and 10's and my egg rack in the fridge holds 9?
My favourite market is like a Granville Island, it is Mercado Centrale. Individual vendors selling their meat, cheese, wines or produce or touristy tasty wares. I have found a few vendors I am trying to build a relationship with. They tolerate and help my Italian language butcherings! The discovery of fun and fabulous new condiments for us to adorn our pastas and breads always makes the shopping a little like living on the edge. Tartufo balsamic vinegar crema for example. As for edgy eating, the market has its share of the whole chickens with their little heads cocked to the side, pigs' heads, cows tongues, intestines, hooves and yesterday we saw friendly Clara the Cow's nose. I just don't know....
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