Under the Texas Sun

Every summer, since I first discovered Francis Mayes book, ”Under the Tuscan Sun” and all the other books that would follow, I have begun my summer listening to one or the other on CD’s and it takes me away to a Piazza where I am talking and gesturing with my hands and kissing bambinos and strolling and laughing.  She makes her experience come alive and it is easy to imagine yourself there.   And when I am cooking, I give an extra flourish to my chopping while I listen to her simple and elegant, fresh from the market or garden, dishes.  It doesn’t matter if I am only making macaroni and cheese, just listening makes me feel I am beside her as a great Italian cook.

So I love them, I love them all.  My grandfather came from Bologna and I love embracing this heritage, although, if the truth be known, I am also half Scotch and English back to the Mayflower days.  But I always thought the Italians lifted their glasses in a toast far more often than the British so they are the DNA I will claim.

Now, here I am living in the Hill Country of TX where many a development is named “Tuscan Heights, Tuscan Hills, Tuscan Ranch” etc.   Truly the topography is similar, even the plants probably have their cousins across the sea there, and the homes are made of TX limestone and a few have Spanish tiles and there are even vineyards, so when I want to mentally escape, that is where I go- to Tuscany without ever leaving the driveway.

Imitation being the highest form of flattery, I could easily have a run down of my own“Under the Texas sun” impressions:

-Under the Texas Sun my plants that are not from these parts are wilting.

-Under the Texas Sun the insects are humming and thrumming and mating and somehow not coming up desiccated.

-Under the Texas Sun the birds that visit the porch are panting.

-Under the Texas Sun the squirrels are splayed on the live oak branches that dangle over the open plate feeder, too hot to make the effort.

-Under the Texas Sun I am going nowhere, my husbands car is out of commission this week. Fine, have mine, for without AC I am more than content to stay in my own Tuscan villa.

 

-Under the Texas Sun the native plants are miraculously thriving.  Sending out wheels of white, the , interestingly named, black-foot daisy, blooms and re-blooms from nothing but rubble. It seems nothing less than miraculous to me.  Amazing-plant adaptations, take off your hat in respect as you pass by.

-Under the Texas Sun I no longer care that all the birds have eaten the apples, the peaches, the plums.  It’s too hot to can anyways.

-Under the Texas Sun I am somehow surviving though I thought I never would.

And it is only June 13^th.  Wait till summer arrives.

Frances, thank you for making all these impressions, not just hot, but evocative of living in my “people’s” home- Bella Tuscany!!