“Make a list of 40 things that happened to you this month. They can be funny, embarrassing, happy, or infuriating. Then pick from your list and write about it.”
It’s really the simple pleasures in life. I bought myself a Kindle to read on my commutes to and from work during the workweek. Because anything that’s no longer copyrighted is essentially free to download on that thing, I had been reading some classics, such as Moby Dick. But reading Capt. Ahab’s story was a little too dense for me to start reading at the beginning of my day, so I switched over to something a little lighter and definitely in the realm of pleasure reading. The book that I picked up at some random trip to the bookstore (maybe when Borders was shutting down its stores?) and decided to read now is called “Living in a Foreign Language” http://www.amazon.com/Living-Foreign-Language-Memoir-Italy/dp/B002EQ9LJY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1304770112&sr=8-1 which tells the story of an American couple moving to Central Italy to start a new chapter in their lives once their youngest kid has gone off to school. Anyone want to move to Umbria with me? I’m serious.
The fact that I read a travel book isn’t exactly noteworthy, since it’s kind of my go-to genre when I need some armchair adventures. But it was just one of those perfect reads at the perfect time when I truly needed it that made it special. It also incorporated my family quite well. What I mean is my mom’s half Sicilian, and she and my dad spent a good five years in Italy not knowing if they were going to come back stateside. They ultimately did, but there’s always been this part of them that speaks of their time there longingly. I’m sure they wonder “what if” they had stayed. So this book mostly talks about the aspects of Italy the couple find magical: the people, the history, the topography, and saving the best for last the food.
God, the food! This is the kind of place where you have to ‘settle’ for white truffles in the summer, even though everyone knows the black winter truffles are the best. And the author details going to numerous trips to different butcher shops that made me drooling like Pavlov’s dog by the time he finished—prosciutto so finely sliced it’s translucent, pizzas and gelato made better than you’ve ever had just waiting there on the streets of Rome, and copious amounts of wine beyond anyone’s imagination. Okay, let’s not kid ourselves, I can imagine a lot. Let’s just say the story my parents told me of the neighbors coming over with three bottles of wine for the two of them and then asking the next day which one they liked the best is dead on in this culture. Wine, carbs, and pork products, what’s not to love??
The way the author writes really reminds me of how my dad recounts trips he takes. One example: they go up to Quebec during Spring Break a couple years back. Mom loves Quebec City because of the cobblestoned streets and European flavor of everything, while Dad’s memory focuses on the food. “We had this amazing salmon dinner one night, and then these éclairs another day…” It’s quite amusing to hear because I’m not quite sure they were on the same trip after hearing their two sides. Okay, I’ve babbled enough. Go read a book and get lost in your own adventure.
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