Crunchy Olives

I was an olive virgin. I had no idea. Friends who frequent the gourmet stores and olive bars may laugh, but I didn't know. Fresh olives crunch!

Brett ventured out to the market this a.m. In his own words "THAT MARKET!!" It is amazing to both of us. On Sunday, the street was an empty line of closed garage doors and stacked tables. Today- life! Flowers, cheeses, meats, clothes, vegetables, fruits, pastries...on and on and on. The vendors stand in our private little story book offering the freshest treasures of Italy.

We loaded up. Ricotta, salami, parmesan, olive oil...olive oil in bulk. Bring your re-fill bottle and dispense what you need today. Brett enjoyed the bulk wine shop that does the same...bring your own bottle (even a plastic milk jug, as Giorgio suggested) and fill 'er up with wine. Brett went with our host this a.m. and, after tasting through several varieties (9:00a.m!), came home with a liter bottle of merlot for 3 Euro.

Brett describes the driving here as "random." I say the driving is much like the people- close with fuzzy boundries. By American standards, everyone stands a little closer, kisses a little more and puts more effort into their conversations. Almost never do we see a person standing on the street alone. Most people are engaged with someone else. Shop keepers often have company besides customers. The cars seem to do the same- much passionate converstion.

We came to Italy looking to be with the people. We have our wish in the Rossi family. Most of our waking moments at home are spent with their family. The enter our apartment with a friendly "Ciao" and stay for conversation as we prepare our meals or play with the children.

We made our way on the bus today and toured the Colosseum. Impressive, but not as much fun as our little Italian apartmento.