A Good Morning

Sometimes you just have to stop and celebrate the little things.

I went and got a cappuccino by myself for the First Time. The "Piccolo" cafe is at the end of my street and will be my morning stop. Silvianna was so patient and helpful. She insisted that I not carry my drink in my hand, but in the bag so it wouldn't burn me. It was the First Time I really felt connected (of course on an instant, surface level) with someone.

I stopped by the fruit stand and bought breakfast for the First Time. An orange. The shop owner recognized me (it's the First Time for that, too!) from the day before.

I saw someone I recognized on the street. For the First Time. She works in a little shop under Matt and Angie's apartment. I was able to tell her that I didn't live in the apartments, but that my friend did. ("Feminine Friend. Live." Then point to the apartments.) Then I told her where I live. (Point to self and say my street name.) She told me she lived up the hill from me.

A lady I met through a blog (http://veronadailyphoto.blogspot.com/) invited me for coffee. Angie and I are going to go meet her on Monday. It's the First Time an Italian has invited me anywhere.

The delivery men delivered my appliances. In this I used the little telephone that rings when someone buzzes so that the guys could get in the building. For the First Time. I cried when they brought in my washing machine. It's the First Time I've ever had my own. Ditto for the dryer, dishwasher, oven and stove, and refrigerator. I used the dictionary to communicate with the men and we had a ball. It was the First Time I had to make sure I was really understanding what they said. The guys even stole the dictionary to point to words.

And it's not even noon.


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