pesce fresco

Out and about with the bambino this morning. Shopping in various places. He breaks a little bottle of Bach Flower Remedies in the health food shop. We park in Vaccarella, along the fishing port. I bump into an old jalopy of an ape (three wheel mini-pickup truck) as I reverse into a tight spot in the shade. All the fishermen looking on chorus their dismay. One of them must have been the owner. It was only the lightest of taps. To further irk them, my two year old stands on the long nets they are straightening while I get my bag. We duke into a bar to escape their dirty looks. There we are greeted by a fisher friend who tells me he stinks of fish. Just in case I don't believe him he sticks his fingers under my nose. Yes, pesce fresco indeed! By the time I get home, mio marito knows exactly where we have been... His suppliers (who do the rounds of the bars in the morning) have spotted me on the road...

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