:)) So many things ring true still:)
It was a chilly February day—the sort where, even when the sun’s shining, the air cuts through layers upon layers of down and wool . . . and no matter how many clothes you have on, you’re still cold. I tromped into my house’s entry after a long day of school (five lessons), shook off my snow-encrusted boots, slipped on my house shoes, and opened the front door. I was met by Deda Nino—my host mother—and our neighbor Rosa, who had been having their daily coffee-and-gossip hour. “Vaaaaaime!” they tsk-ed, surveying my rosy cheeks and slightly drippy nose.
[At this point, I must interrupt my narrative to clarify that I’ve spent my entire life in the upper midwest United States—Minnesota and Iowa, to be precise. Walking for miles in snow and ice is nothing for me. For Georgians, however, it’s unheard of. Hence, the “Vaime!”…
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