How To Do the Things You've Been Meaning to Do

Like finding a giant bench and writing this Substack post

Dear Wanderers, how are you all?

It’s been a long time, and there are so many stories I’d love to share. Like updates about the garden and stories of our attempts to prune the olive tree. Stories of how we removed the cypress that blocked the view, and a whole lot with them. Stories of the elderflower and the acacia and the artichokes that are in season. Stories of my weeding journey and how it continues.

The artichokes from the garden that were planted by the previous owner but have outlived him and continue to spring forth each year.

This rose is another beautiful surprise.

There are stories I’d love to share about my mother, and my sisters, visiting my house for the first time. The gifts they brought (like deep listening and squishy nephews) and the gifts they left (like the memories, joyful and exhasperating, scattered in every corner of my home).

Does it get any better than being in your cousin gang and eating gelato at the same time?

I’d like to update you on the upstairs bathroom that I’m told should be ready by the weekend and the fact that we now have a bed for the kids.

I have my own bed and bedroom for the first time in 5 years. (Also, we filled the kids bedroom with guests after a week and they’re back in with me. This is how we roll…)

I would love to tell you about gelato season. It is here and, after weeks of hazelnut and chocolate and other basic deliciousness, licorice flavour finally appeared at the gelateria in Moncalvo. I’ve waited many months for this moment. Many months.

I would love to share it all, but I only have one evening. The kids are asleep. The husband is working a night shift and there’s a limit to how long I can stay awake. So I will tell you about today, and The Big Bench.

The Big Bench

This morning I woke up and, after opening the shutters, I leaned ever so slightly out of my window and took in the view. Last night was a spectacular night. The moon was almost full. The temperature was mild. There were no mosquitoes in sight. This morning, some of that stillness remained. As I looked to my right I noticed a dash of blue on a nearby hilltop. The giant bench.

The Big Bench Project is a community project here in Italy. There is a Big Bench here in my village. I’ve never been to it.

I was not aware, before this morning, that the bench was visible from my house. (It’s amazing the things you discover by leaning yourself out of a window and turning your head slightly to the right).

The theme of my last week has been “do the things you’ve been meaning to do” and so, I decided in that moment that today would be the day I made it up that hill.

It was Monday morning so, of course, things were a bit manic, but I managed to get the kids out of the door without too much drama. They even got their own shoes on without too much of a fuss. (I love the independence that wellies offer my not-quite-three-year-old).

It was odd when not-quite-three-year-old whined as soon as we got out of the car and asked to go in the pushchair. I didn’t fight it though. He sat there like an overgrown prince-baby as I pushed him up the hill to my daughter’s school.

After we’d dropped her off I revealed to him that we were off on an adventure to find a big bench. He wasn’t into it but the promise of a “squeezing snack” aka, fruit puree in a pouch, was too big a temptation. I figured he’d been convinced.

We’d barely made it five minutes up the road when he started whining again.

“I want to eat my snack at home. It’s boring. I don’t like walking.”

It was then that I noticed his wellies were on the wrong feet. And it was as I was swapping them over that I realised he wasn’t wearing any socks. These were not optimum conditions for a morning hike but, I had already decided. Today would be the day I made it up that hill.

“Sorry,” I told him, “there’s nobody at home to look after you so you can’t eat your snack there. I’m going on an adventure to find a big bench. You have to come with me.”

The journey up was steep. He spent most of it on my back, enjoying the view in a relaxed manner, which of course means I spent most of it with a 2-tonne toddler on my back. I’ve been meaning to exercise and I’ve been meaning to find this bench, so there you go. Two birds, one stone.

As we approached the top, we emerged from the forest and entered a clearing. To our right were slopes covered in long grass. On our left were grape vines stretching over and down the hill. Two small tractors moved between them, mowing the grass. Ahead was a gigantic bench, just as we’d been promised.

White fluffy marshmallows hung in the sky. Greens of all varieties hugged my eyes. The long grass whispered to the purple and yellow flowers. My small son, beside me, eating a bag of trail mix.

“It takes really long to swallow these nuts.” he remarked.

“You mean you have to chew them for a long time?” I asked.

“Yeah”, he replied, and we fell into a silence until, after a while, he chose to speak again:

“It’s quite relaxing sitting here eating snacks”

He was right. It was. Then we came home and I cleaned up the table that was still messy from breakfast.

THE END

Is There Something You’ve Been Meaning to Do?

Could you just do it today? The dishes will still be there when you’re done. And after you’re done they’ll reappear. There are snacks to be eaten and joy to be found. Don’t forget.

Keep wandering my friends, in body, heart or mind.

Rahma x

P.S. I’d love to hear all the things you’ve been meaning to do in the comments.