Centro Sicilia & Sara
Mariella called after her Pilates class, ready to take me to the Geox at Centro Sicilia, but I asked if Joe and I could take the Cleo and go on our own, as we had some other shopping to do. I didn't want to put her out, and I didn't want to have to hurry. She said yes, and then a rapid fire of words I didn't understand, then we saw her heading off to the cemetery as we were getting into the Cleo.
This particular roundabout in Misterbianco has often been a thorn in our side. Google or Apple Maps rarely get the directions right, and we often, and by that I also mean today, end up in what I told Joe, "feels like a Spir-O-Graph".
Finally arriving at Centro Sicilia, Joe found a good parking spot despite the place being incredibly packed on a Monday. Whenever I go there with Elena, she asks, "Don't these people work?" Maybe they're all on American hours, as she is.
The Geox clerk remembered me. He took a look at my receipt, right away noticing the cut off date was yesterday. I explained I tried to return it at the Corso Italia location, but found out I had to come here. "Because I'm a good client," he's doing a workaround. At first, it seemed I'd lose the tax free credit by returning the jacket, which I insisted seemed odd. We're just swapping items. After a while, I said, just make the exchange without it. It's fine. I'm tired.
Throughout all this, I was looking around at their displays. A family from somewhere Nordic came in; the father and daughter kept sitting on my coat and scarf, no matter which chair I moved it to, trying to avoid this.
The wife/mother was speaking English (with some ja jas thrown in, thus the Nordic guess), holding a beautiful shoe that I've been eyeing. For some reason, she focused on me. "I wouldn't do it, shop here. If it doesn't fit, they won't take it back," she warned me. Evidently she had worn these beautiful shoes for a week, then decided she wanted her money back, because there's too much space between her heel and the back of the shoe. She demonstrated. "Don't you agree they should take these back?" I really didn't want to be part of this, and I thought she was wrong anyway, so I said, "No."
The clerk added a pair of socks to my bag, making the exchange even, then handed me the tax credit forms. I'm confused. These will work? Yes, yes; of course.
I guess we'll find out.
As soon as we returned, I started my deep clean, beginning with the fridge and coffee maker. When the places reopen around 4:30 or five, I want to head to the Bancomat to get cash for Vincenzo and Mariella's gift. Since I stupidly didn't bring my debit card, Joe will have to do the transaction, then I'll have to Venmo him. I've learned my lesson on which cards not to forget!
During my bouts of cleaning, I looked up a cookie recipe for the ingredients I had on hand, using up any open bags of flour, sugar, etc, plus the eggs and butter. Sugar cookies. I had leftover icing from the gingerbread debacle, so I decorated a dozen of them before tiring of it. I'll bring them to Elena.
Soon I heard her yelling my name. I grabbed the cookies and went down. There was Sara, our new friend who took us to Bronte, bearing gifts. She put together a little holiday box of Sicilian specialty cookies as a Buon Natale gift for us; a little pensiero, and wrote a sweet note inside the lid.
I exchanged glances with Elena, handing Sara my cookies. I have more upstairs I can decorate. I wanted to reciprocate Sara's generosity. She and I exchanged WhatsApp numbers. Sara is generous and giving and enormously outgoing and full of life. I'm touched by all her wonderful gestures of friendship.
She was delighted with the cookies. Elena warned Sara, but they're American, so they're different. I'm right here; I can here you!
I finished mopping the whole place, and Joe didn't want to go out to grab the cash, so it's another sedentary day and I still have that clock-ticking item on my list. Tomorrow or bust.
A light supper tonight, as I'm still full from yesterday.
This evening, I made a first but pretty decent run of packing. Some clothes may need to stay here. But it's a very good start.
I'm anxious to get home; anxious in the sense of dealing with the long and multiple flights, the awaiting mouse issue, and getting the falalala into the house in those very few days between landing and taking off again!
Last night in Catania got my Christmas Spirit kindled a little!
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