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For the better part of three years I have put food on the table, paid bills, went on mini-vacations to the main-land and bought a few things for the house by working in a bakery which specializes in pane, all … Continue reading
Canadian Maple Leaf
The muscles in my calves are aching as I make my way up the mountain, bags in hand. At home I unpack the groceries to our six-foot two fridge. In an hour M. will be home, sweaty from seven hours of pane and he’ll be hungry. He likes and wants me to prepare the meals, its part of his culture; that’s just what the women do. I’ve seen it at many dinner parties thrown by his friends. And this woman doesn’t mind. He’s home and greets me with a bacio and we eat. I wash the dishes in the bathroom sink; our cucina finished within the next few days, Sardinian time. In my reality of time our cucina will be finished in two to three more weeks. I’m ok with the fact that things here happen slowly, I can’t change the hand of time nor can I move a culture to rapido. After all, I am in their country trying to speak their language be it dialect or Italian; and I find myself becoming the traditional Italian housewife with the exception that I AM CANADIAN, eh!
Happy Smiling Sardinian Children
The smiles are wide here. They are full of hope and filled with laughter. This I learned at a family gathering last night. There were twenty-one Sards, one Italian and one Canadian at this festival which was held a few mountains over from ours. From the moment we entered the door with our ‘permesso,’ the radiant smiles never stopped.
After making the round of the usual kiss on both cheeks to everyone in attendance we set upon duties for the nightly meal. Mine consisted of grating five pounds of Continue reading
So instead of my usual or not so usual ramblings here on WordPress, I’ve decided to show you around my town. The name is not important but it’s in Sardegna. The most beautiful place on the planet. Enjoy the following pics. Continue reading
Living on an island in Italy has its up and downs. I’ve lived here for almost three years and every day the ‘system‘ changes, a new law passed, the Prime Minster can buy votes, and maybe the post will arrive domani. It’s no wonder most of the habitants here are ‘fuori di testa.’ How can anyone possibly trust/rely on a system that is corrupt and changes only for the good will of the already made billionaires. Continue reading
My Sardinian Life 