December 19 -- Breakfast with Emily (Lou)

During the past week of Roma breakfasts, a little girl, her older brother, and their parents would gather in the dining room.  The little girl would scout out the room, sometimes playing hide and seek but none of them were ever disruptive.  Today, the mother came in alone, announcing with a smile that she’d been abandoned by her family, and so we chatted.  Turns out they’re from Tasmania and as her husband teaches high school, they’d been traveling since July.  She’s involved with experimental theatre and is giving a workshop at a nearby theatre.  Getting information on the web should be easier than it is so along with having a very pleasant conversation, it was instructive to learn about this theatre that is, as so many good things are around the Roma, 2 blocks away.

Setting off early for the bookbinders made it only slightly easier to navigate the markets which I’m beginning to believe run 24/7.  Off of the main drag, the alleys leading to the bookbinder become an oasis in spite of the busy stalls.  Butchers, bakers, spice sellers and more are slowly replacing the traditional bookstore district.  Thriving in the midst of change, the last traditional bookbinding store had shelves full of gorgeous handcrafted Albums, folios, boxes and more.  Alas, the bookbinder himself was snoring away in the paper room fast asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him up to peruse the post cards or gold emboss the albums I bought.  With my foot acting up, the Tent Makers District was put off for a later date.  Lunch instead at a fun joint around the corner seemed a good chance to get off my foot but alas, while all the great medieval architecture is still there, the joint itself is gone, it’s lovely brick terrace now a parking lot.  Not wanting to walk a step farther than necessary, I had a street lunch, at a table literally in the street, and as I neared the Roma, Groppi just happened to be right in front of me so, I considered it a sign from the gods to sit and sip French press.  And as if she knew I wanted the shortest route home, the crippled lady in black by the alley took my hand and shook it in greetings.  We exchanged unintelligible words but smiles and handshakes worked great.

After a break from my formerly great walking shoes to innersoless but softer new shoes,  destination pharmacy for inner soles found me being greeted by name by the smiling attendant.  Amazing.  Went for tea outdoors and by golly, the same thing happened there where they as well remembered I like mint.  Even bigger smiles at the tailor for final pickup and a chance to exchange pictures of Roger waving.  Limping home, I grudgingly passed on a sandwich dinner outdoors for a Stella and veggies at Chesa, where there were more smiles and greets and a hearty Where’s Roger?  Veggies and Stella were enough for dinner so I limped home and crashed early, hoping my foot would respond kindly, but assuming Friday would be an off day.