Having grown up on the east coast, I've always had a habit of talking with my arms waving about, gesturing and for emphasis. Some may call this, "Talking Italian", but it's been in my non-Italian family for generations with some of my uncles being experts. (Sometimes, I think this is a strategy for ensuring "personal space", because you don't want to get too close to them or walk up behind when they're telling a story, you might get bopped.) I used to get teased for it when I first left the safety bubble of Bradford County. Yesterday it came to my aid. I was walking into Target, reading my shopping list and determining if my items would fit in a hand basket or if I needed a cart. Once I decided I needed a cart, I walked up to the employee who had just brought carts in from the cold and was lining them up tightly into rows. There were none free, so I had to wait until he was finished and I asked him politely, in my usual half words, half gestures way if I could have a cart. He had a blank look about him and then quietly wheeled a cart towards me. I smiled and said "Thank You" and walked away. About 10 seconds later (my normal brain processing time) I remembered that I had met that employee in a checkout line before. He was behind me in line buying his lunch and the checkout girl was chatting at him rather oddly. She was using plain words and speaking slowly about his recent knee injury. His arms were full with text books and he dropped a soda, so I turned around and picked it up and put it back on the belt for him. He gave me that same plain look again and the check out girl said, "He says, 'Thank You'."
Ahh, now it all fit. He was deaf.
Good thing I talk Italian.
Dinner last night was a pre-seasoned corned beef brisket we picked up at Sam's Club. I simmered it for 2.5 hours and then added cabbage, carrots, potatoes and onions. Very yummy and the long simmer helped the tough cut turn out tender.
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