I live in a rural part of my town in Maine. There are few places that I can get to on foot that wouldn’t require packing for a half day trek. That’s why I looked forward to the Bean Supper this year. This is a destination that I could comfortably walk to and from and to which there was a good chance I could convince my daughter to accompany me.
As we walked along my road, the word ‘passaggiata‘ came to my mind. This is, as I understand it, the Italian custom of taking a walk through the town after dinner. Historically, this is something my family has only practiced on holidays.
You know, hardly ever.
Other than the walk we took after Thanksgiving dinner one year, I am hard pressed to remember any other times we’ve done this. Why not? Okay, in the summer it’s because I am no match for those horseflies that will use every ounce of energy they have in their creepy little bodies to enter either my nose or my ears or, failing that, sting the crap out of me. But this time of year there is no good reason. Oh, yes, one: I’m too lazy.
Well, tonight I am happy to say that we walked to dinner, ate, and walked home. The rain felt lovely. Despite the deluge that was predicted, it remained fairly light so we didn’t get too drenched.The company of my daughter was much appreciated. I even entertain the thought of doing this again tomorrow night.