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Life is not a bed of roses, but a bed of mamaioa* - Sardaigne experience Part 1

the garden view
It was late afternoon and the heat has cooled down. Still damp grass greeted me as I walk barefoot in her garden. Cicadas were slowly making their presence felt. I stopped for a while to marvel every olive and fruit trees. The grapes in the overhead trellis by the kitchen are turning violet. Herbs are everywhere. The two dogs were quiet,perhaps enjoying their afternoon nap.  I wanted to take a peek of the orchard once more where the oranges and veggies are because I was so excited on eating an orange straight from the tree the other day but didn't want to intrude instead smile.

Bunso and her la dolce vita
This is what I dream of and she's living it. I'm not jealous but happy for what has become of her. I can't imagine how she prepares everything with ease. She, who used to served us tacos, is now preparing her own digestivo and cooks for 20 + persons, serving them with anti-pasti, primi piatti and secondi piatti. And boy, she is good!!
preparing the antipasti with wild rucola and basil from the garden
She doesn't deny that it's all hard work but she's happy on what she's doing. And her sidekick, Yvo, is always around.  Every summer clients are coming back.  Not just Italians with whom she converse with facility. A real polyglot!! Others pass by when they see the open gate.  I believe having a passion on what you do leads to contentment and it shows on her face.

Her work for the summer has just begun, but the real work behind all her cooking will start soon after: olives picking, olive oil  making, gathering of wild asparagus, canning/preserving of fruits and veggies. The list is long and it's a never-ending activity.

But as she stated: "Life is not a bed of roses". "True". I said, adding, "but a bed of mamaioa".

Grazie mille for everything, from my gang to yours!

* lady bug in Sarde

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