From hill side towns to Verona

   We took a drive to the north end of the lake through salo to take a closer look at the Dolomites, a magnificent range of snow capped mountains rising high above lake guarda. Very beautiful, at the last minute I suggested turning off the lake road and following a road to a village high on the mountain side. Our car winded up higher and higher until we were probably 1500 feet above the lake. A tiny little village with no tourists, just what I like. We walked around the sleepy little town, the views from the town were absolutely stunning. People had there gardens perched on the mountain side overlooking the lake and the mountains. What a way to live!!! We stopped at the only cafe in town for a drink, clearly the few people sitting there all lived in the town and knew each other well. None of them spoke English and I was dying to talk to them. I wanted to know what it was like to grow up somewhere like this. Italian culture mesmerizes me.   I always wanted to be Italian or Hispanic, I love the way the families are so close and affectionate, and the grammas love the kids. I always wished I had a gramma like that who wanted me to climb on here lap and would bake me cookies and smother me with kisses. My grammas were not that way. One gramma disliked children in general and when I was a kid smelled like cigarettes not the cookie dough smelling gramma of my fantasies. By the time I was a teenager and could hold my own at playing scrabble she became much nicer , and in the end I loved her very much but still , not quite the cozy gramma I longed for. The other one with her German decent never knew how to give a proper hug at all, I don't think she ever really liked me and spent most of my life not speaking to my parents. So when I saw this cute little old lady leaning over her balcony with one sock up to her knee and the other lumped around her ankle ,and I thought I smelled cookies In the air I stared up at her longingly,  please adopt me... I want a gramma like you.   She stared back at me, her expression saying,,,,, " what are you staring at lady?" ..... Oh well.

    The thing is you can want to belong somewhere and be part of something like a culture but if your not born into it or marry into it you can only really ever be an appreciative observer. And that I am. There is no culture that intrigues me more and although I can not escape the fact that I am not the slightest bit Italian, I can observe and learn from people as I always have and adopt whatever customs and virtues I appreciate the most. And this my friends is the beauty of traveling, opening your mind eyes and heart to new things and new people. 

   We went in the preaching work in Verona with our friends we made at the Kingdom Hall. It was interesting and different from home where we spend so much time in the car driving around looking for people to talk to. We went to a huge open market and since we were part of the English group, we looked for English speaking people, which pretty much meant looking for African people. I was with the most adorable 15 year old girl Denise who showed me how it's done. They have their English district convention coming up so we were handing invitations to the people. The response was similar to home, but I would say more positive in general. Many people stopped and thanked us and said they appreciated the invitation. A few were rude and shut us down immediately. It was great to actually be able to talk to so many people in one day, and great to be with the friends in the congregation . The African people have such cute names, the nice sister who took cole was named peace. Another girl was named comfort . Sometimes they can take this a little far, Francesca told me she met someone who named their baby, got style. Literally. Yes my name is got style. I'm not sure about that one.

    Francesca invited us to meet up with her and a few others for pizza in Verona so after service we decided to spend the day walking around the city until we met up with them. We parked outside the castle wall and walked over a beautiful bridge into the city. Clouds were building up and we could hear thunder in the distance. Amazing climate here, boiling hot one minute then raining the next. Cole had to go number two. He insisted on reminding me of this every step he took. Jim on the other hand was determined to get a picture of Tristan on the castle bridge with the lightening behind him. After being hot and tired from service this wasn't exactly the making of a good mood.  By the time I got jim across the bridge cole was walking funny and had a look of agony on his face so I put my foot down and headed straight to a restaraunt across the way. We are eating here. The storm brewing outside I asked to sit inside. Jim at first wasn't happy about this , but as the waiter walked us down these very old stone stairs into the basement I had a feeling this was going to work out really good. There was only 3 or 4 tables down there and initially we were the only people. Within a few minutes the bigger round table filled up with all these men.  Half of them were Italians, the rest from japan. The Italian men are really good looking . I don't say this because I'm creepy or because I don't think my husband is the most beautiful man on earth ( he is of course) but because I like when things , including people look good. One guy had his dog with him a small chiwawa mix. He looked at us , is it okay?   Of course we love dogs,, I love the laxness of Europe. In America people would never bring there dog inside a restaraunt. Long story short, we made friends. These guys were so gregarious ,warm , friendly and fun to look at. One of them was the maker of a wine jim used to sell and they actually knew common people. They told us , this is there hang out, they were entertaining these Japanese guys for work, but this is not a tourist place but a local family place. Just what we like. The food was divine, and all of us including the kids were amused and delighted to hang out with these guys. Jim is invited to tour the winery, I think we should. We got insider tips on where to go in italy. The other thing I admire about Italian people is how they treat kids. These guys included the boys in the conversation and would High  five them and then affectionately rub their hair or cheek. When they wanted to smoke they excused themselves they said " because of the children" people in Europe smoke like chimneys and often in restaraunts , I just accept it as how they do it here, so I was impressed when these men showed this special kindness.  I love this about a culture. I hate when people are  grumpy with kids and expect them to act like boring perfect little adults. How dull and unkind. Yes they should behave but appreciate that they are young. We stopped later in a cooking store and bought a little coffee pot, the Italian woman there in here broken English kept saying " nice boys, Bella boys" and she would touch their hair or cheek. I love it. I love the open affection in fact I crave it. 

   We had a great time later meeting up with Denise Francesca,Abbie, and Charlotte . Francesca is a bit younger than me and is like an aunty to the other girls who were 15-18. They were all absolutely wonderful and the boys had so much fun making new friends their age. We ate pizza and then waited in line for the most heavenly gelato I have ever tasted. A true insider place again. I want to bring all the girls home to California with me. They walked us back to our car and when we passed the place where we had lunch our wine maker friend was still there, Tristan hugged him and gave him some sort of a godfather type handshake. I love italy.  Can I just say again, I love italy.