Today I decided my spacious place was a carefree, imaginative conversation. If Einstein valued the imagination I figure that gives me permission to as well.
Although I never stepped foot outside the 425 sq. ft. cupboard I call my home, I had traveled, by way of amusing banter, out of the house and off the continent with my husband (whom, by the way, I am going to affectionately declare The Non-Scotsman … for the remainder of this blog. I’ll explain later).
It was almost as satisfying as being there in person; sitting under a leafy tree an unfinished wooden slab of a table with friends, drizzling olive oil we had pressed onto handmade pasta with real semolina flour. Drinking inexpensive wine that tasted rich with fruit and full of the soil our chairs sat on. Our hosts’ accents thicker than the ricotta filling our ravioli.
Do you know where we went?
As our daydream continued, my life expanded beyond our walls and out into the world. Ah, space. Room to take a deep, satisfying breath – knowing that the world is big and mysterious – and our potential to revel in it, full of wonder and enthusiasm, is magnanimous.
There was room in our conversation for the whole, hopeful world.
By the way, I think this daydream can be partially recreated here at home in Seattle by way of DeLaurenti’s Specialty Wine & Food Shop. I might have mentioned them just yesterday.
This is where I go to get my fill of The Motherland. I could live there.
(De Laurenti's Prosciutto case)
They carry the most beautiful Italian excesses –--they have 9 types of Prosciutti! --- the trip to DeLaurenti’s is il migliore momento del mio giorno.
A toast to our imaginations today; and to Albert E.