View from a Vineyard

I have been enjoying a few of the books that have been published lately by Americans living in Paris. A lot of what these authors describe is similar to what I experience living in Italy. One author wrote about how his bank was unable to make change of his 20 Euros. My cousin lives in Rome and once wrote on her blog about her all day, futile pursuit in buying a frame.  It is all true and toggles between charm and aggravation, this sometimes stuttering, inefficient system of commerce.  While “big-box” shopping is making some in-roads, for the most part, when you need something, you turn to small, owner-operated shops where they don’t have much merchandise but do have a good supply of customer service.

Last summer I wanted to refurbish an old table that I found in our cantina and I needed sandpaper. I went to several stores in search of sandpaper. In the US you might find sandpaper in a hardware store. That is not the case here. I can’t remember exactly what else the “sandpaper” store sold but I think it was painting accoutrements, although not paint, since you would need to go to the paint store for that. Here is how I bought my sandpaper. I explained that I was refurbishing a table and the man explained to me that I needed differing  tooths of paper, which I already knew. Then, like a seamstress handling fine linen, he took out a sheet of the varying types, carefully unwrapped each from its protective covering, and fanned them out on the counter so we could examine them together. I bought three sheets, which came to no more than 3 Euros.

Early this week, older son Alessandro needed a binder clip for his schoolwork. I didn’t have one but I promised I would be purchasing one for him within the next several days. I needed to pad the timeframe a bit just in case I had trouble finding the proper store. Luckily enough, the store nearby that I liken to a miniature Office Depot had binder clips. I can’t explain the feeling of triumph one can get in moments like this. As in, “Look! They have binder clips AND batteries!”  But unlike Office Depot, you wait your turn and then explain to the shopkeeper what you need. I waited behind a young college student who needed, among other small items, the little tape you use to mark a page. I listened as the shopkeeper explained, “This is an off-brand to the name brand but it works just as well.” They examined the tape together carefully. Tape, to mark a page. Her purchase rang up to 7 Euros. When it was my turn, I explained that I needed a binder clip. “What size?” I was asked. The shopkeeper took out the varying sizes and we opened and closed them together. That afternoon I was anxious for Alessandro to come home to see if I had bought the right size, and then I was disappointed when he didn’t use it right away. “Why aren’t you using the binder clip yet?” I asked several days later. I didn’t find it at all odd either that I was still discussing a binder clip, having spent more time on this purchase then I have to buy a sofa.

Perhaps what I just described leans toward the side of aggravation, so to be fair, tomorrow, I’ll post about the charm!

Although oil painting will always be my preferred medium, I have been studying watercolor with a naturalist illustrator, and I am starting to enjoy it. Here is a watercolor sketch I did of some irises I collected from the side of the road in Treiso.

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