Fresh pasta counters
Steal my heart some sort of fried artichoke that made me miss my grandma Saettone's cooking. I bought three for the beach.
With 5 tiny Italian plums, three fried artichoke, one spinach wrap, and some shelling peas I headed to the good beach.
I parked myself in the shade between swims. The water is as clear as tap water okay not your tap water, Beth. You know what I mean. No fish, just sand. I could still see my toes in 5 feet depth. And soft.
I shared my plums with an older gentleman who asked me time in Italian. I was so flattered and answered in Italian. But then he asked me if I was English. LOL I think it was my Pacific Northwest pale skin rather than my diction. Anyway he accepted the plum and we talked about what we used to do a million years ago. I'm on the Italian Riviera. Pinch me. I must be dreaming.
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