What is wrong with her now?

Italy is not a country for being alone. Besides their families, Italians all have their close group too -- the friends they vacation with, meet up with on the weekends, call every day, like that.
Italians are nothing without their group.
No wonder everyone is tsking, tsking about me now.
All alone in that house? Staying in the house for the best part of the day sometimes? No husband around, family or gulp, group, at all?
My God. What's become of her? She's so sad now.
Thank you for caring. I really appreciate it. But I'm actually not that sad, folks.
Yes, I am alone. But I've met up with one of my oldest girlfriends several times in the evening -- we've reconnected and that's been fun and satisfying for me.
I went to the last water aerobics class last week, where I met the elderly woman I sorta knew, who invited me to dinner the other night at her house further up the hill. It turned out be a delightful evening. She's lived a very interesting life.
I went to the market on Friday and bought myself two jackets for the winter. I've had some nice leisurely drives -- a novelty for me now that I don't have a car in London. I've read two books -- and lots of magazines and newspapers.
I've eaten plenty of mozzarella di bufala with my hands. I've watched stupid Italian TV in the evening -- or danced around my kitchen to the radio. I've emailed my sons, and other friends. I've run errands. I've written to you. I've done what I felt like doing every minute of every day pretty much.
How bad can that be? Incredibly relaxing, actually.
One of my Italian cousins stopped by unannounced on Sunday with his son. Although he had plenty to do -- he's got three kids -- he just wanted to check on me. He came quite a way to check on me.
He didn't like what he saw. Me sitting in the house reading, with nothing planned for the day. (later, I got the unexpected invitation to dinner. At that moment, I had nothing planned though. I could've gone over to spend the evening with my old friend and her daughter if I had felt desperate though, which frankly, I didn't, not even a little bit.)
What are you doing, he wanted to know. (reading. quite a good book actually.) You have to go out (it looks like it's going to rain, so why?). You can't stay in here (Don't lots of people stay home on Sundays?). I could just hear his brain working: Daniela's in a bad way now. We might need to intervene.
Yesterday, my neighbor rang the bell too, looking at me sideways, behind me into the house. (maybe she's got a secret lover in there? How else could she have spent all this time alone.)
I thought your husband was coming today, he said. He was, I replied, but we found a cheaper flight tomorrow. So he's coming tomorrow.
Palpable relief on his face. So he'll be here tomorrow then? Yep, that's right. And you're going to go get him at the airport? Yes, I will. What time tomorrow? Early afternoon. So tomorrow afternoon, you won't be alone anymore?
Yes, yes, yes, yes. Tomorrow you'll be able to look at me again without fear. I will no longer be alone -- and so no longer weird as shit to you.
Tomorrow is now today. Time to go pick up my husband from the airport.
Every Italian I know will be breathing a sigh of relief.