The weather continued to shine on us, so much so that we had to have afternoon siestas (yes, I know, that's a Spanish tradition) but we are quite flexible. In fact, we had to in order to make it to suppertime. After getting a number of disgusted looks and resigned sighs, we quickly learned not to ask for dinner before 7:00 p.m. So we just had to go to a neighboring square or cafe and start pre-drinking. Youngsters will know what that custom is.
Mom quite enjoyed her sip of Muscati or Reciotto and watching the world go by. Although, the Reciotto did give her a very rosy outlook on life. We played our favorite game of guessing who came from where and who was the most ridiculous-looking. We saw a woman wearing beige leggings that bore a striking resemblance to that fine piece of art on the wall of our apartment, only less agreeable - talk about 20 pounds of potatoes stuffed into a 10 pound bag. I am sure that Dave could have given us the stress stats if he'd been able to look at her long enough. We couldn't, but we giggled.
And how about this fine specimen.
While wandering through the campos, I got Mom to sit down beside three other ladies. I then asked if they minded me taking the picture. They were very enthusiastic and one even mentioned that she had a nephew in Montreal. Then one pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down her address - her postal address, not email. Not sure it will get there, but I'll try. Here it is:
Bet you can't tell who is who.
All this is not to say that there was peace and harmony in the Gardener's house. Quite the contrary. Mom was up to her tricks again. First, she tried to feed me granola that came with extra protein - ants. I guess you couldn't leave sweet things out. Mosquitos weren't the only insects around. she did admit that she tried to pick them out, however, there were too many. That's when I decided to have breakfast at the cafe just outside our front entrance.
And then there was the time she took my eye mask and put it in the freezer, to cool it, down. Ever had an icepack slapped on your eyes, then have to try and bend it to the contours of your face? When I protested, quite vocally I might add, she excused her actions with "Oh, I was wondering why you could have the frozen mask on your eyes for so long, it would have hurt me". I advised her through gritted teeth that you put the eye mask in the FRIG, not FREEZER to cool it down. I think that I must have been the only person in Venice to be suffering from frostbite that night. She just laughed, "Ohhhh".
And this is even after I was rubbing her feet and legs every night as well as putting frozen toilets on her ankles. Some gratitude. That's my mom.
But revenge is sweet, even when not intentional. Or, Karma is a bitch.
Did you know that Mom is very uncomfortable in tight spaces? The only way up the bell tower at San Giorgio Maggiore, is in a little elevator that holds six people. Add four Frenchmen and you have a very nervous Mommy. I could tell by the certain wildness in her eyes and the way she kept looking around for an exit. She did survive. The view was magnificient. (Of course, the battery in my camera died.) And we did not have to share the elevator with anyone else on the ride down.
Did you know that Mom doesn't like going on boats in rough water? I didn't .... honestly. The next day, we decided to visit murano, the island where they make the glass. After shoving her on the Vaporetto, I then realized that the trip would take us around the tip of Venice, past the Lido island, into open sea. It got a bit rough, but she survived. As a reward for not getting sick all over me, I fed her gelato - Mom will do just about anything for a gelato.
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