Someday, I will live in a place like this. I will stay in that little house in the center with the teal blue awnings, preferably renting from a little nonna who bakes bread on Sunday mornings and tries to set me up with every eligible Italian bachelor in town under the age of thirty. The house itself will be full of character, with creaking stairs and a brass crucifix hanging over the well-worn dining room table. Space will be limited, with just enough room for me and my perpetual stream of visitors (the guest bedroom will never be empty). Of course, the best part of the house (aside from the small deck that overlooks the Mediterranean) will be my study, a small library with a comfy patterned armchair, old scroll desk, and shelves of books that cover all four walls, floor to ceiling.
I will, of course, be fluent in Italian by then, and I will saunter forth every day to the piazza to buy my groceries for the day and chat with all my new friends. My favorite is Marco, the local baker who often slips in an extra roll and who loves to shout "Buon giorno, bella!" at me from across the piazza as soon as I arrive. And after an eventful morning in town, getting all the latest gossip, I will return home to my little paradise, spending the rest of the day writing and sipping caffè while looking out over the sea.
My Dearest Virginia,
ReplyDeleteI hope to join you one day in your little house with the blue awning. I should very much like to curl up in your arm chair and read a beloved Jane Austen book while you blog away to the world. Perhaps there would be space for a small writing desk for me in your little library, just a small desk under an open window with white curtains blowing in the sea breeze. Then I could look out over the beautiful Mediterranean and write. Only I should very much like to see part of a mountain in my view. Do you think that is possible, to see part of a mountain side with the ocean view?
The only thing I object to is anything musty or dusty. If it would please you, I shall make sure to keep the library clean, bright, and stocked with fresh flowers, fresh flowers I would buy by arm full at the piazza. Then I would spend a morning each week arranging beautiful bouquets of snap dragons, wild roses, lilacs, and tube of rose to fill the library and the little house on the shore.
I wouldn't stay for too long though, not to worry. I would only come visit you when the time allows and is convenient for both parties, perhaps for a month in the summer. Then when I return to my little desert home, I should send you letters every week, or just respond to your blog. And then we could go on improving ourselves in writing, reading, and the art of living.
Your Loving Sister,
Rebecca