Cianfrusaglie varie (bits and pieces)

Today was a day of random things.
A short play about squid
(As Nora drains liquid from squid she has just cooked)
Me: I mean, I like squid, but they do look disgusting.
Nora: How are they disgusting? I think they look cute.
Me: How are they cute?? They look like rubbery spiders.
Nora (sighing heavily)
Me: Hey! They're hollow!
Nora: Have you never looked at squid before?
Me: Yes. But not that closely.
Nora (very patiently): They took out the cuttle bone when they cleaned the squid at the market.
Me (sheepishly): Oh. Right.
Nora: Now I'm keeping the liquid to cook pasta in.
Me: Really? Um, it certainly smells squiddy. And it's a lovely shade of grey. . .
Nora: It is very good.
Me: I bet it's squiderrific! Or squidtastic!
Nora (rolling her eyes): I believe i'ts just very goooood. I'm going to put this on the terrace to cool.
Me: What if bugs get into it? And I don't want to spend three days here with food poisoning!
Nora: I'll put a lid on it so buggies don't crawl in, so not to worry.
Me: Good. I will eat the squid, even though it looks like what it is, but I do not want to eat buggies.

Yesterday, we went to Billa, the Austria-based grocery store that is closest to the apartment. We took the rolly-thingy, not having a boat. Each time Nora shops, she must cross two or three bridges, depending on how energetic she feels, and obviously, she must limit the number of groceries she buys. New York City residents must do the same but have the option of taking cabs home. Here, the vaporetto is available on the major canals, but you will still end up walking with your groceries depending upon where you live. Nora felt it very important that she get a picture of me with the rolly-thingy. On the way back home, she carried it up one bridge, and I carried up and down the other two. It was hard. I broke a sweat. Jeez.

Wearing "dress #3, my birkies and my Murano necklace,hauling groceries up bridge #2This morning, as Nora went to visit her mother briefly, she allowed me to wander a bit by myself. Before she left me alone, however, she made sure that I knew several things:

1. If I want a coffee, I ask for it thusly: Un caffe, per piacere.
2. If I want to stroll through a garden nearby, it is impossible for me to get lost. I just have to keep the water on my right. A brief discussion followed about "big" water versus "little water, since there is water everywhere.

S. Elena garden

Because it continues to be hot and humid, I found myself wearing "dress #1" today. I have abandoned my other clothing and now rely on "dress #1," "dress #2," and dress #3." I bought "dress #3" on Thursday for 15 E. I have decided that my main goal for the rest of my stay is to be able to avoid wearing bras, and these dresses allow me that luxury.

I was forced to acknowledge my age today in a Murano glass shop. As the shop keeper put a beautiful glass necklace on me, he stepped back and commented to Nora that it made me look young. So. I am now at an age where old men think I want to look young. Hmph. Oh well. (Nora, by the way, has no memory of this conversation. Hmmm.)

Venice has instituted a new system for warning its residents of "acqua alta." Basically, the higher the water is, the more tones, and the higher the tones will ascend.

Today we visited the Museo Correr, a museum I could visit for free courtesy of the pass Nora gave me for my birthday. It was a wonderful museum full of books, paper, shields, ship lamps, busts and, in one small room, a "fragment of a colossal statue," the fragment of which was a giant foot. I did notice that the foot has toes like mine, i.e. having the second toe longer than the first, a condition that my sister-in-law refers to as "Morton's toe." She suffers from the same condition, and I have yet to verify the name. Nevertheless, I thought it interesting that a 4th century sculptor would decide to create a huge (think: as big as a dining room table) foot with the second toe longer than the first. Today, on the vaporetto, I actually noticed a fairly abrasive American whose third toe was longer than the others. She kept it curled under. I found it fascinating, but couldn't stare for too long. At the very least, it made me appreciate my toes more.

Also at the Correr, there is a room with statues of males, all of whom are missing their penises. In their place are holes. It's slightly disconcerting, and not immediately obvious. Nevertheless.

All this week Nora has been desperately trying to take a picture of a vaporetto with a huge ad for United Arab Emirates. It is clearly aimed at a fairly new Venetian clientele. Anyway, she has taken unsuccessful pictures all week. Even when we try to pay attention, it seems that a sporco tourista will be in the way, or something will obstruct the view. Finally, today, we each took pictures of said vaporetti ad.
When Nora shows me on a map where we will go, she makes a noise: "Tscho tscho tscho" as she traces the canal or fondamenta we will follow with a closed pen. When I characterized this as the sound of a train, she objected. Therefore, I merely submit it as an interesting detail. I believe that it is similar to when an adult tries to feed a baby, which is impossible to do with one's mouth closed. Nora cannot trace a route on a map without making the appropriate noise. I like it.

As I'm writing this, we've had a small hailstorm, which I found quite interesting. For the last several minutes, Nora, wakened from her nap by the hailstorm, has come to the kitchen where I'm working, and has started handing me pieces of meat: mortadella and speck. She's also fond of soppressa. I call all of these meats "the meats of death." Oy.