2013년 11월 25일 월요일

오후 9:37

By Avelina Wardwell

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About 'exchange rate calculator'|Foreign exchange rate calculator







About 'exchange rate calculator'|Foreign exchange rate calculator








Ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｄｉｄ               Ｉ               ｅｎｊｏｙ               ｌｉｖｉｎｇ               ｓｏｍｅｗｈｅｒｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｆｕｎｎｙ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               -               ｎｅｗｌｙ               ｍａｒｒｉｅｄ,               ｎａｉｖｅ               &               ａ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｉｎｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｌｉｅｕｔｅｎａｎｔ               ａｔ               ｔｅｃｈ               ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               Ｓａｎ               Ａｎｇｅｌｏ,               Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ｔｈｅ               Ｉｎｔｅｌｌｉｇｅｎｃｅ               Ｃｏｍｍａｎｄ'ｓ               ｍａｇａｚｉｎｅ,               ｔｈｅ               "Ｓｐｏｋｅｓｍａｎ."               Ｉ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｃｏｐｙ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               1985               ｉｓｓｕｅ,               ｓｏｍｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               Ａｐｒｉｌ-Ｊｕｌｙ.

Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｖｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｆａｍｅｄ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｃｉｔｙ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｌｌ.

Ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｒｇｅａｎｔｓ               ｗｈｏ               ｔａｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａｓｓｉｇｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｃａｌ               ｕｎｉｔ               ｓｈｏｗｅｄ               ｉｔ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               -               ａｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐｏｉｎｔ,               ｅｖｅｒｙｏｎｅ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｈｅａｄｅｄ.

Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ｉｓ               ｌｏｃａｔｅｄ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               Ｂａｒｉ               ａｎｄ               Ｂｒｉｎｄｉｓｉ,               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｖｉｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               Ｐｕｇｌｉａ               (Ａｐｕｌｉａ),               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅｅｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｂｏｏｔ...ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ａｄｒｉａｔｉｃ               Ｓｅａ.

Ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｎ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｕｇｌｉａ               ａｒｅａ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｐｒｏｖｉｎｃｉａｌ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ:
               ｈｔｔｐ://ｗｗｗ.ｅｍｍｅｔｉ.ｉｔ/
               Ｉ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐｈｏｔｏ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｉｎｇｕｌａｒ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎａｔｉｏｎ               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ.

Ｉ               ｆｅｌｌ               ｉｎ               ｌｏｖｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｃｅ,               ｊｕｓｔ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ.

Ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｆｅｗ               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ,               ｍａｎｙ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔａｌｋ               ｕｓ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ...ａ               ｖｉｌｌａ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｐｒｏｎｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅｆｔ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｏｏ               ｆａｒ               ｏｆｆ,               ｎｏ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａｎｓ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               -               ｙａｄｄａ               ｙａｄｄａ               ｙａｄｄａ!
               Ｗｅｌｌ,               ｉｆ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ,               Ｉ'ｍ               ａ               ｓｔｕｂｂｏｒｎ               ｓｏｒｔ               &               ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ａｒｒｉｖｅｄ,               Ｉ               ｒｅｆｕｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｃｏｎｓｉｄｅｒ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｏｕｔｓｉｄｅ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ.

Ｉ               ｒｅｆｕｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｖｉｌｌａｓ               ｏｒ               ａｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               ｖｉｌｌａｇｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏｗｎｓ.

Ａｓ               ｌｕｃｋ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ｉｔ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｉｎｇｌｅ               ｖｉｌｌａ               ｌｉｓｔｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｗｅ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｗｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｅｎｄｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ.

Ｉｔ               ｌａｙ               ａｔｏｐ               ａ               ｈｉｌｌ,               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｈｏｏｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｓｉｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｉｇｈｗａｙ               ＳＳ16               ａｓ               ｙｏｕ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｈｅａｄｉｎｇ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｏｗｎ,               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｕｒｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｆｔ.

Ｔｈｅ               ａｄｄｒｅｓｓ               ｗａｓ               ｌｉｓｔｅｄ               ａｓ               Ｃｏｎｔｒａｄａ               Ｓａｎｔｏ               Ｍａｇｎｏ               ａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               Ｖｉｌｌａ               Ｓｐｅｃｃｉａ               ｉｎ               ｆｒｏｎｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｏｆｆ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｍａｎｙ               ａｃｒｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｆｉｅｌｄｓ               ａｎｄ               ｈｉｌｌｓ               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               Ｃａｒｏｖｉｇｎｏ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｃｋ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｗｈｉｔｅｗａｓｈｅｄ               ｓｔｕｃｃｏ,               3               ｂｅｄｒｏｏｍｓ,               ｔｈｅ               ｏｂｌｉｇａｔｏｒｙ               ｒｏｏｆｔｏｐ               ｐａｔｉｏ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｐａｔｉｏ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｏｕｎｄ               ｆｌｏｏｒ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｇａｒｄｅｎｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｇｏｒｇｅｏｕｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｅｌｄｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｗｏｒｋｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｎｄｌｏｒｄ'ｓ               ｌａｂｏｒｅｒｓ.

Ｈｅ               ａｓｓｕｒｅｄ               ｕｓ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ａｎｙ               ｆｒｕｉｔ               ｏｒ               ｖｅｇｅｔａｂｌｅｓ               ｗｅ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｉｃｋ               ｏｕｒｓｅｌｖｅｓ.
               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｕｎｉｑｕｅ               ｃｉｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｌａｒｇｅ               ｉｎｆｌｕｅｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｅａｒｌｙ               Ｇｒｅｅｋ               ｓｅｔｔｌｅｒｓ.

Ｉ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｄｉｄ               ｔｉｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｃｌｉｍｂｉｎｇ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｏｗｎ,               ｗａｌｋｉｎｇ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｒｂｌｅ               ｓｔｏｎｅｄ               ｎａｒｒｏｗ               ｓｔｒｅｅｔｓ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｆｅｗ               ｃａｒｓ               ｄａｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｖｅｎｔｕｒｅ.

Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｐｉａｚｚａｓ,               ｈｉｄｄｅｎ               ａｍｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｎｙ               ｔｕｒｎｓ               ｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｗｎ.

Ｔｈｅ               "ｎｅｗ"               ｍｏｎｕｍｅｎｔ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｗ               ｐｉａｚｚａ               ｗａｓ               ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｌｄ.
               Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｆｏｕｒ               ｂａｋｅｒｉｅｓ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｏｆ,               ｂｕｔ               ｍｙ               ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｕｓ               ｂｙ               ｏｕｒ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒ,               Ｍａｒｉｏ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｒｕｓｔｉｃ               &               ｈａｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｂｅｓｔ               ｆｏｃｃａｃｃｉ               (ｔｈｅ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｔｈｉｃｋ               ｃｒｕｓｔ               ｐｉｚｚａ)               ａｎｄ               ｒｏｓｅｔｔｉ               (ｂｒｅａｄ               ｒｏｌｌｓ)               Ｉ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｆｏｕｎｄ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ,               ｙｏｕ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｏｒ               ｔｈｅｙ'ｄ               ｂｅ               ｓｏｌｄ               ｏｕｔ.

Ｉ               ｌｏｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｒｔｉｃｈｏｋｅ               &               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｗｅ'ｄ               ｔａｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｏｌｅ               ｓｈｅｅｔ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅｎ'ｔ               ａｓ               ｂｉｇ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈｅｅｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｆｏｃｃａｃｃｉ               ｙｏｕ'ｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｆｒｏｍ               Ｂｏｏｍｅｒａｎｇｓ,               ｔｈｅ               ｎｏｗ-ｄｅｆｕｎｃｔ               ｒｅｓｔｕａｒａｎｔ               ｉｎ               Ｂｒｉｎｄｉｓｉ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｖｏｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ＧＩ'ｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｇｏｏｄ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｃｏｕｐｌｅ               ｍｅａｌｓ,               ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ!
               Ｓｐｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒ               Ｍａｒｉｏ,               ｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ｏｌｄ               ｆａｒｍｅｒ               ｗｈｏ'ｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｉｎｊｕｒｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｄｕｓｔｒｉａｌ               ａｃｃｉｄｅｎｔ.

Ｈｅ               ｓｐｅｎｔ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒｓ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｆａｒｍ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｗｅ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔｏｏｄ               ｉｔ,               ａｔ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｈａｄ               ｏｗｎｅｄ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｎｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｈｏｏｄ.

Ｈｅ               "ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ"               ｕｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｏｆｆ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｅｄ               ｕｓ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｓ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ:               Ｍａｒｉｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｉｆｅ,               Ｆｉｏｒｅｌｌａ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｄｅｓｔ               ｄａｕｇｈｔｅｒ,               Ａｎｇｅｌｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｄｄｌｅ               ｃｈｉｌｄ,               ａｎｄ               Ｇｉｇｉｌｉａ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｏｕｎｇｅｓｔ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｓ               ｒｕｒａｌ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ;               ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ｗｅ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｌｅａｒｎｅｄ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｈａｄ               ａｎ               ａｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｏｗｎ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｏｕｓｅ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｉｎ               Ｖｉｌｌａｎｏｖａ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｓ               ｙｏｕ               ａｌｌ               ｈａｄ...ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄｌｙ,               ｏｐｅｎ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｎｅｒｏｕｓ.

Ｉ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｂｏｗｌ               ｈｅ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｒｉｎｇ               ｏｌｉｖｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｕｓ               ｔｏ               ｓａｍｐｌｅ.

Ｉ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｒｒｉｅｃｈｅｔｔｉ               (ｈｏｍｅ               ｍａｄｅ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｐａｓｔａ,               ｌｉｔｅｒａｌｌｙ               ｔｒａｎｓｌａｔｅｄ               ａｓ               "ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｅａｒｓ"               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｅａｒ-ｌｏｂｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｓｈａｐｅ)               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｙ'ｄ               ｂｒｉｎｇ,               ａｌｌ               ｈａｎｄ               ｍａｄｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｌｏｖｅｌｙ               ｐｌａｔｅｓ.

Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅｄ               ｕｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｏｌｉｄａｙ               ｍｅａｌｓ.

Ｍａｒｉｏ'ｓ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｓｌｏｗｌｙ               ｔａｕｇｈｔ               ｕｓ               ｓｏｍｅ               "Ｏｓｔｕｎｅｓｅ"               (ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｃａｌ               ｄｉａｌｅｃｔ               ｏｆ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ)               ａｎｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｗｉｎｔｅｒ               ｓｅｔ               ｉｎ,               ｗｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｂｙ.
               Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｍｏｄｅｒｎ               &               ｎｉｃｅ               ｈｏｔｅｌ,               ｊｕｓｔ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｉｎ               ｒｏａｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｅｆｔ               ａｓ               ｙｏｕ               ｇｏｔ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｏｗｎ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               "Ｔｒｅ               Ｔｏｒｒｉ."               Ｂｕｔ               ｗｅ               ｅｎｊｏｙｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｒｕｓｔｉｃ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｅａ.

Ｏｎｅ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｗｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｎｅａｒ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｒｋｅｔ               ｗａｓ               ｈｅｌｄ               ｈａｄ               ｐｉｚｚａ...ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｇｅｔ               ａ               ｄｏｚｅｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｆｏｒ               $10.

Ｉｔ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｈａｒｄｌｙ               ｐａｙ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｏｋ               ｄｉｎｎｅｒ               ａｔ               ｈｏｍｅ.

Ｗｅ               ｌｏｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               "Ｑｕａｔｔｒｏ               Ｓｔａｇｉｏｎｉ"               ｂｅｓｔ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ａｌｌ               ｓｏｒｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ               ｏｎｅｓ...ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｅｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｉｎ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｃｒｕｓｔ.

Ｑｕａｔｔｒｏ               Ｓｔａｇｉｏｎｉ               ｔｒａｎｓｌａｔｅｓ               ｔｏ               "Ｆｏｕｒ               Ｓｅａｓｏｎｓ"               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｑｕａｒｔｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉｚｚａ               ａｌｌｏｃａｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｅａｃｈ               -               ａｒｔｉｃｈｏｋｅｓ,               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｏｌｉｖｅｓ,               ｈａｍ,               ａｎｄ               ｍｕｓｈｒｏｏｍｓ.
               Ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｃｈａｎｇｅ               ｒａｔｅ               ｆｏｒ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｌｉｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｐｒｅｔｔｙ               ｆａｖｏｒａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａｎｓ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ａｒｒｉｖｅｄ...ｏｕｒ               3               ｂｅｄｒｏｏｍ,               2               ｂａｔｈ               ａｎｄ               ｐａｒｔｉａｌｌｙ               ｆｕｒｎｉｓｈｅｄ               ｖｉｌｌａ               ｃｏｓｔ               ｕｓ               ａ               ｗｈｏｐｐｉｎｇ               $156!

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｅｃｏｎｏｍｉｃａｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｋｉｎｇｓ               ｏｎ               ａ               ｌｉｅｕｔｅｎａｎｔ'ｓ               ｓａｌａｒｙ.

Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｓｕｐｅｒｍｅｒｃａｄｏ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｂｏｕｇｈｔ               ｇｒｏｃｅｒｉｅｓ.

Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｓｔｏｃｋ               ｕｐ               ｏｎ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｃａｎｎｅｄ               ｇｏｏｄｓ               ｏｎ               ｂａｓｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈｏｒｔａｇｅｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｍｍｉｓｓａｒｙ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ａｆｆｅｃｔｅｄ               ｕｓ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｄｉｄ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ.

ＷＥ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｂｉｇ               ｄａｉｒｙ               ｕｓｅｒｓ...ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｍｉｌｋ               ｗｅ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｗａｓ               ｆｉｎｅ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ｏｆｆ               ｂａｓｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｈｅｅｓｅ               ｗｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ａｔ               ｍａｒｋｅｔ               (ｏｕｒ               ｂｉｇ               ｄａｉｒｙ               ＬＯＶＥ)               ｗａｓ               ｂｅｔｔｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｃｋａｇｅｄ               ｓｔｕｆｆ.

Ｉ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｓｅｅ               ａ               ｈｕｇｅ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｉｃｅｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉ               ｓａｉｄ,               Ｉ               ｂｏｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｎｎｅｄ               ｓｔｕｆｆ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｍｅａｔｓ               ｏｎ               ｂａｓｅ               (ｕｓｕａｌｌｙ).

Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｕｐｅｒｍｅｒｃａｄｏ               ｗａｓ               ｎｉｃｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｐｉｃｋｉｎｇ               ｕｐ               ｗｈａｔｅｖｅｒ               ｙｏｕ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ,               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｌｉｎｅｓ,               ｙｏｕ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｕｓｈ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｏｖｅ.

Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｃａｍｅ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｎｉｇｈｔ               ｃｏｍｐｌａｉｎｉｎｇ               ａ               ｎｕｎ               ｈａｄ               ｃｕｔ               ｈｉｍ               ｏｆｆ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｒｋｉｎｇ               ｌｏｔ.

Ａ               ＮＵＮ!!
               Ｉ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｈｏｗ               ｗｅ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｐｌａｙ               ｃａｒｄｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｒｇｅａｎｔｓ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｆｌｉｇｈｔ               ａｔ               ｗｏｒｋ,               Ｂｏ               ａｎｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｗｉｆｅ               Ｃｈａｒｌ               Ｍｏｔｅｓ,               ｗｈｏ               ａｒｒｉｖｅｄ               &               ｄｅｐａｒｔｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｕｓ               ａｎｄ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ＳＳ16               ｉｎ               ａ               ｓｉｓｔｅｒ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｈｏｏｄ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｈａｎ               ａ               ｍｉｌｅ               ａｗａｙ.

Ｂｏ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｏｃｃａｓｉｏｎａｌｌｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｓｈａｒｅ               ｒｉｄｅｓ               ｔｏ/ｆｒｏｍ               ｗｏｒｋ.

Ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｎｅｇａｔｉｖｅ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｏｎ               ｇａｓ               ｃｏｕｐｏｎｓ.

Ｗｈｅｎ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｌｉｅｕｔｅｎａｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｗｉｆｅ               (Ｊｏｈｎ               ａｎｄ               Ｐａｔｔｙ               Ｂｉｏｎｄｏｌｉｌｌｏ)               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｎｉｔ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｌｓｏ               ｍｏｖｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｏ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ...ｔｈｅｙ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｎｅａｒ               Ｂｏ               ａｔ               ｆｉｒｓｔ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ａ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               ｅｘｑｕｉｓｉｔｅ               ａｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｏｗｎ.

Ｉ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ               ｂｅｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅａｒｉｎｇ               ａ               ｆｕｎｅｒａｌ               ｐｒｏｃｅｓｓｉｏｎ.

Ｗｅ               ａｌｌ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｌｃｏｎｙ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｔｃｈｅｄ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｇｏ               ｂｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｉｃ               ａｎｄ               ｓｌｏｗ               ｍａｒｃｈ.

Ｔｈｅｉｒ               ａｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔ               ｗａｓ               ｏｒｉｇｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｃｏｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｒｉｃｈ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｂｕｓｉｎｅｓｓｍａｎ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｉｓ               ｄａｕｇｈｔｅｒ...

ｕｎｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅｌｙ,               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｅｌｓｅｗｈｅｒｅ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｈｅｒ               ｍａｒｒｉａｇｅ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｌｏｖｅｌｙ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               Ｂｉｏｎｄｏｌｉｌｌｏｓ.

Ｗｅ               ａｌｌ               ｈａｄ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｌａｎｄｌｏｒｄｓ               ｉｎ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ!
               Ｊｏｈｎ,               Ｐａｔｔｉ,               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｏｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｈａｒｅ               ｅｖｅｎｉｎｇｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｏｗｎ.

Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｅ               ｂａｒ               ｉｎ               ｐａｒｔｉｃｕｌａｒ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｏｆｆ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉａｚｚａｓ.

Ｉｎ               ｗｉｎｔｅｒ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｚｙ               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ               -               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｒｍｅｒ               ｗｅａｔｈｅｒ,               ｗｅ'ｄ               ｓｉｔ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｔｉｏ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓａｔ               ａｂｏｖｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅａｒｂｙ               ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｔｃｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｇｏ               ｂｙ.

Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ｗａｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｔｒａｄｉｔｉｏｎａｌ               &               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｓｅｔ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｗａｔｃｈ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅｎ               ｇａｔｈｅｒｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｇ               ｐｉａｚｚａ               ｗａｌｋｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｔａｌｋｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｓｕｉｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｄｒｉｎｋｉｎｇ               ｅｓｐｒｅｓｓｏ.

Ｉ               ｉｍａｇｉｎｅ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｗｉｖｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｂｕｓｙ               ａｔ               ｈｏｍｅ,               ｃｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｄｉｎｎｅｒ.

Ｍａｒｉｏ               ｔｏｏｋ               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅｎｓ'               ｈｉｄｄｅｎ               ｈａｎｇｏｕｔｓ.

Ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ｃｏｌｄ               ｆｉｓｈ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｌｄ               ｃｏｆｆｅｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｈａｒｄｌｙ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｐｏｃｋｅｔ               ｃｈａｎｇｅ.

Ｉｔ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｄｏ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｆｏｒ               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ'ｓ               ａｐｐｅｔｉｔｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ｐａｃｋｅｄ               ｅｖｅｒｙ               ｄａｙ.
               Ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｓｔｏｒｙ               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｒｅｃｏｕｎｔｓ               ｗａｓ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ｅｎｔｅｒｅｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｔｉｎｙ               ｇｒｏｃｅｒｙ               ｓｔｏｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｕｃｋｅｄ               ｓｏｍｅｗｈｅｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｏｗｎ.

Ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｅｎｔｅｒｅｄ,               ｔｈｅ               ｇｕｙ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒｅａｋｅｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｐｏｗｅｒｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｍａｌｌ               ｃａｌｃｕｌａｔｏｒ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｓｉｎｇｌｅ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ｂｕｌｂ.

Ａｓ               ｓｏｏｎ               ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｌｅｆｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｓｔｏｒｅ,               ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｏｆｆ               ａｇａｉｎ!

Ｔｈｉｓ               ｒｅｍｉｎｄｓ               ｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ＥＮＥＬ               (Ｉｔａｌｙ'ｓ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ)               ｐｒｏｃｅｄｕｒｅ               ｅａｃｈ               ｍｏｎｔｈ               ｏｒ               ｔｗｏ.

Ｗｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｇｏ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｐａｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｌｌｓ               ａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ａ               ｃｒｏｗｄｅｄ               ｍｅｓｓ.

Ｏｎ               ｄａｙ               Ｉ               ｇｏｔ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ａｇｉｔａｔｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｅａｒｓ,               ａｓ               ｅｖｅｒｙｏｎｅ               ｈａｄ               ｃｕｔ               ｉｎ               ｆｒｏｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｍａｎ               ｃａｍｅ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｃｋ,               ｇｕｉｄｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｄｅｓｋ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｍｅ               ｐａｙ               ｓｅｐａｒａｔｅｌｙ.

Ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ,               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｇｅｎｔｌｅｍａｎ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｒｖｅ               ｍｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ.

Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｓａｉｄ               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｃｈｅｓｔ               ｓｉｚｅ.
               Ａｂｏｕｔ               ｍｉｄ-ｗａｙ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｏｕｒ               ｔｏｕｒ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ｃｈａｎｇｅｄ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｐａｙ               ｏｕｒ               ｒｅｎｔ               ＡＮＤ               ＥＮＥＬ               ｂｉｌｌｓ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｔ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ.

Ｏｕｒ               ｌａｎｄｌｏｒｄ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｂｒｉｎｄｉｓｉ               ａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｃｏｎｖｅｎｉｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｐｏｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｎｔａｌ               ｃｈｅｃｋ.

Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｅｓｔａｂｌｉｓｈｅｄ               ａ               ｒｈａｐｐｏｒｔ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｔａｌ               ｗｏｒｋｅｒｓ               ｂｙ               ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎ               ａｄｄｒｅｓｓ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ＵＳＡ               ｆｏｒ               ａｎ               ｕｌｔｒａｌｉｔｅ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ               ａｉｒｃｒａｆｔ               ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ               ｉｎ               Ｏｓｈｋｏｓｈ               Ｗｉｓｃｏｎｓｉｎ.

Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｇａｖｅ               ｈｉｍ               ａｎ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａｎ               ｑｕａｒｔｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｑｕｉｒｅｄ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｐｏｓｔａｇｅ.

Ａｆｔｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ,               ｔｈｅ               ｇｕｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｈｉｓ               ｌｉｎｅ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｔ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｈｅ               ｓａｗ               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ,               ｂｅｃｋｏｎｉｎｇ               ｈｉｍ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｓｅｐａｒａｔｅ,               ｎｅｗｌｙ               ｏｐｅｎｅｄ               ｗｉｎｄｏｗ               ｓｏ               ｈｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｐａｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｗｏ               ｍｏｎｅｙ               ｏｒｄｅｒｓ               ｆｉｒｓｔ.
               Ｔｈｅｙ               ｆｉｎｉｓｈｅｄ               ａ               ｍａｉｎ               ｒｏａｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｏｕｒ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｌｙ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｏ               ＳＳ-379,               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｈｉｇｈｗａｙ               ｒｏａｄ,               ｓｈｏｒｔｌｙ               ａｆｔｅｒ               ｏｕｒ               ｍｉｄ-ｔｏｕｒ               ｐｏｉｎｔ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｒｏａｄ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｖｉｅｗｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ.

Ｉｔ               ａｌｓｏ               ｌｅｄ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｏ               ｏｕｒ               ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ａ               Ｒｏｍａｎ               ｗａｔｃｈｔｏｗｅｒ               ｓａｔ               ａｎｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｄｉｖｅ               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｌｙ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｒａｌ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ｗａｔｅｒ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｈｉｄｄｅｎ,               ｃｌｅａｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｃｒｏｗｄｅｄ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｗａｔｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｃｒｙｓｔａｌ               ｃｌｅａｒ               ａｎｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｓｅｅ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｃａｌ               ｆｉｓｈ               ａｎｄ               ｅｖｅｎ               ａｎ               ｏｃｔｏｐｕｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｔｅｒｓ.
               Ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ-ｉｎ-ｌａｗ               ｖｉｓｉｔｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｐｒｉｎｇ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｇｏｔ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｖｅｌｙ               ｏｌｄ               ｏｌｉｖｅ               ｇｒｏｖｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｅａ               ｏｆ               ｏｕｒ               ｖｉｌｌａ               ａｎｄ               ａｌｌ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ.

Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｈａｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄｅｓｔ               ｏｎｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ａｒｅａ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｍａｚｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｈｕｇｅ               ｒｏｏｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｒｕｎｋｓ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｒｉｍｍｅｄ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｄｒａｓｔｉｃａｌｌｙ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｕｓｕａｌｌｙ               ｈａｄ               ｅｎｏｕｇｈ               ｆｉｒｅｗｏｏｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｕｎｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｉｖｅ               ｔｒｅｅｓ.

Ｏｕｒ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒ               ｃａｍｅ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｓｈｏｗ               ｕｓ               ｈｏｗ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｃｋ               ｗｏｏｄ,               ｗｅ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｄｏ               ｉｔ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｅ               ｓａｉｄ               ａ               ｓｅｒｐｅｎｔ               (ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｂｒｉｎｇｓ               ｂａｄ               ｌｕｃｋ)               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｍｏｖｅ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｏｄ               ｉｆ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅｎ'ｔ               ｃａｒｅｆｕｌ.
               Ｉｎ               ｔｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｉｒｅ               ｓｔｏｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｍｅｃｈａｎｉｃ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｕｒ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｃａｒ.

Ｆｏｒ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｒｅａｓｏｎ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｅｎｄｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｈｉｎｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａｎ               Ｏｌｙｍｐｉｃ               Ｗｒｅｓｔｌｅｒ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｔｒｅａｔｅｄ               ｈｉｍ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｃｅｌｅｂｒｉｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｇｏｔ               ａ               ｆａｉｒ               ｓｈａｋｅ               ｏｎ               ｔｉｒｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｐａｉｒｓ.

Ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅ               ｓｉｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｏｗｎ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｕｓ,               ｔｏｗａｒｄ               Ｆａｓａｎｏ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ               ＷＡＳ               ａｎ               Ｏｌｙｍｐｉｃ               Ｂｏｘｅｒ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ,               ｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｉｇｇｅｒ               ｖｉｌｌａｓ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｓｅｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏａｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｃｉｒｃｌｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ.
               Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｎ               ｏｌｄｅｒ               ｒｏａｄ,               ｓｕｒｒｏｕｎｄｉｎｇ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ,               ｏｎｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｋｉｒｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｒｉｍｅｔｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ,               ｐａｒｔｉａｌｌｙ               ｗａｌｌｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｆａｎｔａｓｔｉｃ               ｖｉｅｗｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ.

Ｉ               ｓｈｏｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｎｅａｔ               ｐｈｏｔｏｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｌａｄｉｅｓ               ｕｐ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｏｗｎ,               ａｌｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｏ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｉｎ               ｓｔａｔｕｒｅ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｓｗｅｅｐｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｒｅｅｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ｄｒｅｓｓｅｓ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ.

Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｏｔｏｓ               ａｎｄ               ｄｉｄ               ａ               ｐａｉｎｔｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｏｕｒ               ｔｏｕｒ.
               Ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｓｐｒｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｏｕｒ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｔｏｕｒ,               ｍｙ               ｄｕｔｙ               ｓｅｒｇｅａｎｔ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｃｔｉｏｎ               ｃｈｉｅｆ,               Ｃｈｅｒｙｌ               Ｂｒｏｗｎ,               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｄａｔｉｎｇ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｏｕｒ               ａｎａｌｙｓｔｓ,               Ｓａｍ               Ｐｉｔｔｉ.

Ｃｈｅｒｙｌ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｍｅ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｄａｔｅ,               ｏｎ               Ｖａｌｅｎｔｉｎｅ'ｓ               Ｄａｙ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｎｔ               ｕｐ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               &               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｕｎｉｑｕｅ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ,               "Ｌｏ               Ｓｐｅｓｓｉｔｅ."               Ｃｈｅｒｙｌ               ａｎｄ               Ｓａｍ               ｅｖｅｎｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｍａｒｒｉｅｄ               ａｎｄ               (ｌｉｋｅ               ｕｓ)               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               Ｓａｎ               Ｖｉｔｏ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｔｏｕｒ.

Ａｆｔｅｒ               ｓｕｃｈ               ｒａｖｅ               ｒｅｖｉｅｗｓ,               Ｗａｒｒｅｎ               &               Ｉ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ               -               ｗｅ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｌｏｖｅｄ               ｉｔ.

Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               8-9               ｃｏｕｒｓｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｆｏｏｄ,               ａｌｌ               ｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｕｎｉｑｕｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｐｌａｔｅｓ:               ａｎｔｉｐａｓｔｉ               ｆｉｒｓｔ,               ｄｉｓｈｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｖｅｇｅｔａｂｌｅｓ,               ａ               ｂａｋｅｄ               ｆａｖａ               ｂｅａｎ               ｄｉｓｈ,               ｏｒｒｉｅｃｈｅｔｔｉ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｂｏｔｈ               ｒａｐｅ'               ａｎｄ               ｐｏｍｏｄｏｒｏ               ｓａｕｃｅ               ｉｎ               ｓｅｐａｒａｔｅ               ｐｌａｔｅｓ,               ａ               ｒｏｌｌｅｄ               ｍｅａｔ               ｄｉｓｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｈｕｇｅ               ｂｏｗｌ               ｏｆ               ｉｎ-ｓｅａｓｏｎ               ｆｒｕｉｔ,               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｈｕｇｅ               ｃｏｏｋｉｅ               ｐｌａｔｔｅｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｐｐｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｐｌｕｍ               ｂｒａｎｄｙ...ａ               "ｄｉｇｅｓｔｉｖｏ."               Ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｙｏｕ               ａｔｅ,               ｔｈｅｙ               ｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｎｅｒａｌ               ｗａｔｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｗｉｎｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｄｒｉｎｋ               ｉｎ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｃｅｒａｍｉｃ               ｊｕｇｓ.

Ｃｏｃｋｔａｉｌｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｆｔ               ｄｒｉｎｋｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｌｓｏ               ａｖａｉｌａｂｌｅ.

Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ａｒｔｉｆａｃｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ａｌｃｏｖｅｓ               ａｌｏｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｌｌｓ,               ａｎｄ               ａｌｓｏ               ｉｌｌｕｍｉｎａｔｅｄ               ｕｎｄｅｒ               ｂｉｇ               ｇｌａｓｓ               ｔｉｌｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｏｏｒ.

Ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ-ｉｎ-ｌａｗ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｓｙｍｐａｔｈｉｚｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｗｈｏｅｖｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｗａｓｈｉｎｇ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｄｉｓｈｅｓ               ｓｅｒｖｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｅａｃｈ               ｃｏｕｒｓｅ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｓｈｅｓ               ｔｈｅｍｓｅｌｖｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｉｃｋ               ａｎｄ               ｒｕｓｔｉｃ,               ａｎｄ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｄｅｓｉｇｎ               ｔｙｐｉｃａｌ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｅａ               ｒｅｓｉｄｅｎｔｓ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅｓｑｕｅ               ａｎｄ               ｑｕａｉｎｔ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ               Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｋｎｏｗｎ.
               Ｗｈｅｎ               ｗｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｇｏｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ｍｅａｌ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎｌｙ               19               ｏｒ               20               ｍｉｌｌｅ,               ｏｒ               ａｂｏｕｔ               $10;               ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｉｔ               ｃｒｅｐｔ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               29               ｍｉｌｌｅ               ｏｒ               ｓｏ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｅａｒｓ.

Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｄａｙｓ,               Ｉ               ｈｅａｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｒａｔｅ               ｉｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               30               ｅｕｒｏ...ｂｕｔ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ,               ｉｔ'ｓ               ａｌｌ-ｉｎｃｌｕｓｉｖｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｆ               ｙｏｕ               ｅｎｊｏｙ               ｗｉｎｅ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉ               ｄｏ,               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ｓａｖｉｎｇ               ｍｏｎｅｙ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈａｔ               ｒａｔｅ!

Ｙｏｕ               ｃａｎ'ｔ               ｇｏ               ｗｒｏｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ａｔｍｏｓｐｈｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｉｃｅ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ               ｉｓ               ｌｏｃａｔｅｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｔｈｉｒｄｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｐ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈａｎｄ-ｍａｄｅ               ｓｔｒｅｅｔ               ｓｉｇｎｓ               ｐｏｉｎｔｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｙ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｕｒｎｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｏｗｎ.

Ｌｏｃａｌ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎｓ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｃｒａｚｙ,               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｅｎｕ               ｗａｓｎ'ｔ               ｓｐｅｃｉａｌ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅｍ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｗｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｈａｄ               ａｔ               Ｇｒａｍｍａ'ｓ.

Ａｆｔｅｒ               ｄｉｎｎｅｒ,               ｗｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｃｌｉｍｂ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｓｐｒｅｓｓｏ               ｂａｒ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｅｎｊｏｙ               ａ               ｃａｐｐｕｃｃｉｎｏ               ｏｒ               ｅｓｐｒｅｓｓｏ.

Ｌｏ               Ｓｐｅｓｓｉｔｅ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｆａｉｌｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｉｍｐｒｅｓｓ               ｏｕｒ               ｇｕｅｓｔｓ.
               Ｐｈｏｔｏｓ               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔａｕｒａｎｔ               Ｌｏ               Ｓｐｅｓｓｉｔｅ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ:               ｈｔｔｐ://ｗｗｗ.ｓｐｅｓｓｉｔｅ.ｉｔ/
               Ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅｓ               ｏｆ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｅａ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｗｎ'ｓ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ:               ｈｔｔｐ://ｏｓｔｕｎｉ.ｖｉｄｅｏｐａｇｉｎｅｕｔｉｌｉ.ｉｔ/ｂｒｗｓａｐｐｌ.ｐｈｐ?ｉｄ=66
               Ｔｈｅ               ｐｉａｚｚａ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｔｔｏｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｃｉｔｙ               ａｌｓｏ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｅｄ               ｍａｎｙ               ｏｌｄ               ｆａｓｈｉｏｎｅｄ               ｓｈｏｐｓ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｐｕｔｔｅｒ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ａｎｄ               ａｌｓｏ               ａ               ｔｒａｖｅｌ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ.

Ｗｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｔａｋｅ               10               ｍｉｌｌｅ               (ｏｎｌｙ               ａｂｏｕｔ               $5               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｎ)               ａｎｄ               ｇｏ               ｓｈｏｐｐｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｅｎｄｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｎｉｃｅ               ｃｅｒａｍｉｃ               ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ａ               ｃｏｎｔｅｓｔ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｃｉｔｙ               ｓｙｍｂｏｌ               ｅａｃｈ               ｙｅａｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｃｅｒａｍｉｃ               ｐｉｅｃｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｌｓｏ               ｗｈｉｓｔｌｅｓ.

Ｍｙ               ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               1986               ｏｗｌ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｗｏ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｏｓｅ.
               Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ａ               ｎｉｃｅ               ｆａｎｃｙ               ｂａｋｅｒｙ               ａｎｄ               ｉｃｅ               ｃｒｅａｍ               ｓｈｏｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｃｏｆｆｅｅ               ｂａｒ               ａｎｄ               ｓｉｔｔｉｎｇ               ａｒｅａ,               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏａｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｏｗｎ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｏｎｅｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎａｔｉｏｎａｌ               ｃａｌｌｓ.

Ｔｈｉｓ               ｗａｓ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏａｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｉａｚｚａ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｒｉｍｅｔｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｏｗｎ...ｆｒｏｍ               ＳＳ16.

Ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｃａｌｌ               ｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｆｏｌｋｓ               ａｔ               ｈｏｍｅ               ｏｎｃｅ               ａ               ｍｏｎｔｈ.

Ｎｉｃｅｒ               ｐｌａｃｅ               ｔｏ               ｗａｉｔ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｉｏｎ               ｔｈａｎ               ｏｎ               ｂａｓｅ.

Ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               3               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｗｅ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｉｎ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ,               ｗｅ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｄｉｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｐｈｏｎｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｈｏｎｅｓｔ,               Ｉ               ｅｎｊｏｙｅｄ               ｉｔ!

Ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｌｏｔ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｐｅａｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｑｕｉｅｔ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ａ               ｐｈｏｎｅ               ｒｉｎｇｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｉｎｔｅｒｒｕｐｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｄａｙ               ｏｒ               ｎｉｇｈｔ.
               Ｍｙ               ｆｉｎａｌ               ｆａｖｏｒｉｔｅ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ,               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｒｋｅｔ,               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               Ｓｏｃｉａｌｅ               Ｃｏｍｍｕｎａｌｅ               ｓｈｏｐ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｒｍｅｒｓ               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｇｒａｐｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｏｌｉｖｅｓ.

Ｍａｒｉｏ               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ｕｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｅａｒｌｙ               ｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｍａｚｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｑｕａｎｔｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｗｉｎｅ,               ｏｌｉｖｅ               ｏｉｌ               ａｎｄ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｇｒｏｃｅｒｉｅｓ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｐｉｃｋ               ｕｐ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｇｒｅａｔ               ｐｒｉｃｅ.

Ｉ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｗｉｎｅｓ               ｂｅｓｔ,               ｂｕｔ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｓａｔｏ               ａｎｄ               ｒｏｓｓｏ.

Ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｇｅｔ               5               ｌｉｔｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｗｉｎｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａｂｏｕｔ               $3,               ａｎｄ               $4               ｂｏｕｇｈｔ               ｙｏｕ               10               ｌｉｔｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               ｗｉｎｅ...ｂｕｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｇｅｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｍｏｎｅｙ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｆ               ｙｏｕ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｒｅｅｎ               ｇｌａｓｓ               ｊｕｇ.

Ｉ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｗｅ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｄｉｄ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｂｉｇ               10Ｌ               ｇｌａｓｓ               ｊｕｇｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｐｏｓｉｔ               ｍｏｎｅｙ...ｗｅ               ｓａｖｅｄ               ｔｈｅｍ               ａｓ               ｓｏｕｖｅｎｉｒｓ.

Ｉ               ｗｉｓｈ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｖｉｓｉｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｇａｉｎ,               Ｉ               ｐａｙ               ｓｏ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｆｏｒ               ｏｌｉｖｅ               ｏｉｌ               ａｎｄ               ｗｉｎｅ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｄａｙｓ!

Ｉ               ａｍ               ｌｕｃｋｙ               ｔｏ               ｇｅｔ               ａ               ｔｈｒｅｅ               ｑｕａｒｔｅｒｓ               ｏｆ               ａ               ｌｉｔｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｕｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｐａｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｔｉｒｅ               ｔｅｎ!
               Ｍａｎｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｔａｔｉｏｎｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｏｗ-ｃｌｏｓｅｄ               Ｓａｎ               Ｖｉｔｏ               Ａｉｒ               Ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｃｏｕｌｄｎ'ｔ               ｗａｉｔ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｃａｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｍｏｖｅ               ｏｎ               ｂａｓｅ.

Ｆｏｒ               ｕｓ,               ｗｅ               ｌｏｖｅｄ               ｌｉｖｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｃｏｍｍｕｎｉｔｙ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｒｉｅｎｄｌｙ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｅｎｊｏｙｅｄ               ｌｉｖｉｎｇ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｗｏｒｋ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               Ａｍｅｒｉｃａｎｓ.

Ｉ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｉｔ               ｈｅｌｐｅｄ               ｕｓ               ｇｅｔ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｎｇｕａｇｅ               ａｎｄ               ｃｕｌｔｕｒｅ               ｂｅｔｔｅｒ.

Ｗｅ               ｏｆｔｅｎ               ｓｈｏｐｐｅｄ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｏｃａｌ               ｏｐｅｎ-ａｉｒ               ｍａｒｋｅｔｓ               ｏｎ               Ｓａｔｕｒｄａｙｓ,               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｒｕｉｔ               ａｎｄ               ｖｅｇｅｔａｂｌｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｏ               ｆｒｅｓｈ               ａｎｄ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｏｆ               ｆｌａｖｏｒ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｓｕｍｍｅｒｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｈｏｔ,               ｂｕｔ               ｗｅ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｅｎｊｏｙｅｄ               ａ               ｂｒｅｅｚｅ               ｉｎ               ｏｕｒ               ｖｉｌｌａ               ｕｐ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｉｌｌ,               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｄｒｉｖｅ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏａｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｅａｃｈ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｏｌ               ｏｆｆ.

Ｗｈｅｎ               ｏｕｒ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｄｏｇ               ｓｔａｒｔｅｄ               ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ               ｆａｔ,               ｗｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒ               ｌａｄｙ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｄｏｏｒ               ｗａｓ               ｂａｋｉｎｇ               ｈｉｍ               ｃｏｏｋｉｅｓ!

Ｓｅｖｅｒａｌ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎｓ               ｉｎ               ｏｕｒ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｈｏｏｄ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｕｓ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｖｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｇ               ｂｅｈｉｎｄ,               ｂｕｔ               ｗｅ               ｔｏｏｋ               ｈｉｍ               ｂａｃｋ               ｈｏｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｈｅ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｐｅ               ｏｌｄ               ａｇｅ               ｏｆ               14.
               Ｏｕｒ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｖｅ               ｃａｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｌａｔｅ               1988,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｓｏｒｒｙ               ｔｏ               ｌｅａｖｅ               ｏｕｒ               Ｉｔａｌｉａｎ               ｖｉｌｌａ               ａｎｄ               ｎｅｉｇｈｂｏｒｓ               ｂｅｈｉｎｄ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｑｕａｌｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｙｏｕｎｇ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅｒ               ｗａｓ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｈｉｇｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ｗｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｆｆｏｒｄｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｐｌａｃｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｅ               ｅｎｊｏｙｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｎｉｑｕｅ               ａｒｅａ               ａｎｄ               ｃｕｌｔｕｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｕｇｌｉａ               ｒｅｇｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ,               ａｎｄ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ               ｉｎ               ｐａｒｔｉｃｕｌａｒ.

Ｗｈａｔｅｖｅｒ               Ｉ               ｄｏ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｐｌａｃｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｖｉｓｉｔ               ｉｓ               Ｏｓｔｕｎｉ.






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    댓글 1개:

    1. Blogger2016년 9월 12일 오전 2:28

      Hey Everybody,

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