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Puglia, Stories

The two Giovannis

Good morning all!

I want to tell you a bit about our first encounters when we were the fresh and happy owners, about a year ago.

We bought the house and paid an extra price to keep the furniture (we changed a lot afterwards, but okay, that’s normal), but there was a slight miscommunication on whether the expensive internet-TV was part of the deal. We assumed it was but noticed it wasn’t. A huge empty space on the wall was mocking with us when we entered the house after the notary deed. An extra investment, we thought, and problem solved. We went to a nearby store, bought a huge screen internet TV. A few days later, they sent us Giovanni in his fancy BMW and the TV. We clearly explained that it was important to have many channels available, and certainly British (since most guests are from the UK). He stayed busy on the sofa in front of the TV for at least two hours and when leaving, explained – too quickly – how everything worked. We were in the middle of installing the stuff we brought from Belgium (we managed to have a truck full), so it wasn’t until later that we noticed that most of the channels appeared to be Italian. Well, Giovanni blamed it on the internet, not strong enough because of the thick walls, but he would find a solution. A couple of days later he came back with a huge satellite antenna. The old antenna could be removed and replaced by this one. It wasn’t too visible, placed behind the roof of the trullo, so I agreed. Giovanni proudly announced we could watch over 500 channels now, worldwide! He disappeared, leaving a bill of 300 Euros for the antenna. That evening I took the time to go over the different channels. I didn’t count them, but there must have been a few hundred–broadcasted from the following areas: Japan, China, the Middle-East. I was furious, and believe me, expressing your anger in a different language is not that easy. So I took the dictionary, wrote everything down and called Giovanni. “Ah, Sophia! Come sta?” In my best English I politely told him to get his antenna and put it where ever …. He got the message, came back, gave me a friendly kiss (I thought it was a habit in Italy, but Francesca told me it was not a custom at all),  removed the antenna and finally found a satisfactory solution. Continue Reading

Puglia

New tiles

Ostuni, Monday, 08:15  pm

I am sitting in my favorite spot in the house: the cozy velvet green sofa. It first was a kind of grayish beige–that kind of fresh beige that becomes dirty after too many people sit on it. A very nice lady, Federica, upholstered the two comfortable seats.

Yesterday we went to an Italian movie, perfetti sconosciuti (perfect strangers), to upgrade my Italian a bit. It was hilarious: great content, sharp dialogue, perfect acting, amusing twists. It was about seven friends having a dinner party and, as a game, they decided to put all cell-phones on the table to prove they trusted one another. Many secrets rose to the surface, and the evening ended in a bitter fight. A must-see, if you ever get the chance. Also a perfect subject to discuss among friends, with a glass of wine, or Italian dinner (as we did yesterday in la Filosofia – delicious food by the way!), afterwards.

Today in the early morning, driving through rain and mist, hubbie managed to drop me on time at the airport. At 1:30 pm I landed in Brindisi, under a shiny Puglian sky. Hopeful and patient I waited in line at the car rental office. I ordered a Fiat cinque cento, as I always do but never get. I always hope for the old iconic model but usually get the renewed ugly version. This time they handed me a shiny (hurts the eyes) red Hyundai, that looked like a covered wheelchair. But once I was on the road, I was happy: on one side the glistering silver green olive trees,  on my other side ongoing hedges of oleanders (and it did manage to go much faster than a wheelchair).

Stopped at the supermarket, the Ipersimply, where “La spesa che non ti pesa”, free translation: the groceries that don’t cost too much. I go there for the simple reason that there is not a lot of choice of markets open at siesta-time. Continue Reading

Marie Bouly Photography
Stories

Stories to be told

Do you sometimes have the feeling you met someone for a reason? Some encounters really make my day. And at my age – some days I feel old, other times young, yes, keep on guessing! – I have had the luck to have met so many interesting people. They all have their own stories, and I love to listen to them.

I will also share memories and daily anecdotes. When the kids were little, I started a diary with their small and big adventures and achievements. They received it when they turned eighteen. I will use the diary in this category and take you back to the past.

Photo by Marie Bouly Photography

About Me

So happy to meet you! I am Sophie, I live in a small town in a rainy country, together with my husband, two sons and a daughter and our two cats.

I have struggled through boring part-time jobs in big companies while having a bit more creative job: raising our three children, which I managed quite well. They’re all fully grown, which doesn’t mean this job is finished, but I get more time now to spend with my creative addictions: writing, photography, travel and changing furniture and wallpaper.

And I am so happy to finally start this blog, becoming a reality after a creative writing workshop, digging through Stephanie Duval‘s “How Blogs Work,” and my daughter’s promising encouragement (Mom, I’ve read somewhere that even two women over fifty who started a blog became very successful).

What do I have to tell you?  It will range from banana leaf cushions to our brand new challenge in the heel of Italy, including all the adventures I’ve survived along the way.

Oh, still one important thing to mention. Don’t take me too seriously. I certainly don’t. Irony is essential in life.

PS: all pictures are mine, unless differently quoted.

 

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