Not Quite Italian: May in Italy (Monday) Back to Firenze

I'm on the train to Pisa, which I've taken once before, but going in the opposite direction. The green countryside is splashed with the colors of wild flowers. I see red poppies, yellows and violets and rolls of harvested hay.

For the first time in 5 days I can breathe and my head is not stuffy. I have hidden my distress from everyone, as best I could. (Later I discovered I have been suffering from a severe asthma attack, getting worse every day for the past 3 weeks, even before I arrived in Italy.)

Red poppies are all along the rail tracks and even blooming right out of the asphalt of the station platform.

Out the window, I see spotted horses grazing in the fields. As always, I love these train rides. I watch the country pass by me and ponder my short bursts of living here.

This morning, Primo and Marina left at 6 for a business trip to Milano. I woke up to the smell of coffee, but since we said our goodbyes last night I decided to not interrupt their schedule.

Mattia brought me to the train station and insisted on waiting until the train arrived. He helped me with my luggage. He is so thoughtful. Rosa has choosen a good man and I just love him. I think if a girl has a good man for a father, then she will choose a husband wisely.

Primo, father to Rosa and Marta, is a good man.

Marina has been under extra stress with her father's failing health. She already had completed most of the wedding preparations before Enriche and I arrived.

Our sweet Nonno was hospitalized last month and felt too weak to make the 2 hour trip on Saturday, from his village in the north. In addition, the change of routine would have been difficult. What we had not expected was the heartbreaking choice of Marina's brother and nephew, to not attend the wedding as well.

Marta wisely let it go after verbally venting, but she refused to cry. It was shocking for us all, to absorb this last minute, wedding morning decision. These man-made rifts, which erode away family ties, happen thoughout all cultures. I am wondering why, as I sit here on the train, observing the life around me.

One family's normal looks a bit twisted through the eyes of another.

I saw behavior at the wedding which sends me thinking about how families develop their own unique idiosyncrasies.

I helped Marina make up the wedding bed on Saturday. She corrected what I had done. Of course, her way was certainly right for her. My mother was taught by my grandmother, a nurse, the hospital method of bed-making. My own style has evolved into a more comfortable look with mismatched colored sheets and ruffled pillow cases, which Leo absolutely loves.

I will be curious to see Marta and Mario's bed later this year, as Marta develops her own style.

A herd of cows outside my train window with clear blue skies spotted with white clouds.

We pass Cararra and Massa with marble stacked in yards.
Carrara Wiki