SARONNO, Italy – Unless I can get my act together these next couple of days and find some time to write, this will be the last post from Saronno. From next Thursday on I will be back where I started some 22 years ago, the Italian Riviera. But I have said that before (see Life: On the Move, Oct. 31, 2012). Such is life in Italy – nothing is really done until it’s really, really done.
|A Walk Along the Sea|
Obviously the move I was talking about in October never happened. I’m a little more certain this time that it will as I now have the keys for my new apartment in my hot little hands. Now it is up to the mover to show up. I have to call him again tomorrow to confirm the moving date and I can tell you I have butterflies in my stomach.
This ritual of confirming, reconfirming and confirming again just to be sure is very, very Italian. It may be other things as well, but the one thing I’m sure of is it is very Italian. I’ve learned this lesson the hard way. My instincts are such that if you say you are going to do something, you do it. If for some reason you can’t, you call. Otherwise the deal is done. That was one of the hard lessons I had to unlearn living in Italy. As I said before, here nothing is done until it is really, really done. But with a little bit of luck next Sunday morning I’ll be sipping an espresso coffee at a seaside café looking out over the blue Mediterranean Sea and wondering why I waited so long.
So you’ll have to excuse me now. There are still boxes to be packed and stuff to organize. I’m so happy about this move, I just want to keep going until it’s done.