Many people are envious. Any of you who have been here long know how I feel about that particular poison. And ever since he used that word, I realize that he is so right. And it's gross.
I've often written about how much I love to be alone, and how my husband and I also love to be alone together, but lately I've found myself becoming more and more of a hermit, which is ironic in light of the fact that we are leaving in two weeks. But the fact is that almost all of the people here, whether family, friends or acquaintances, are a bit indignant and pissed off about our flying the coop.
There is a tangible sense of life being some kind of invisible trap here, and the valley walls that envelop so tightly and so beautifully this little town are also a kind of self-imposed prison for many people who live here. Many who I have met in Italy have the sense that where you are born is where you will stay, no matter what, both physically and symbolically. There is rarely any sense of personal choice in the matter, or personal responsibility. For me, being the americana that I am, this has been next to impossible to understand, and the worst part about it is people's sense that I am somehow free, and they are not. I can't tell you how many people have looked at us a bit wistfully and said, "Oh, you two have always just been so lucky...", as if someone handed us our life on a silver platter, when the truth is that I, like just about everyone else, have rarely been handed anything. This is probably the single biggest risk we have ever taken together, and as with all risks, we could fall flat on our faces, with children in tow. The truth of the matter, as my once again prophetic husband put it, is that we're the only ones around here with any balls!
And since one of the joys of being forty is that you just stop giving a shit what other people think of you, this morning I made a new placard, with photo, that I am sticking on our mailbox when we leave...
The former digs of Bonnie and Clyde
no fowarding address