Oy gevalt! Please save me from my fantasy life. Much as I might wish it to be possible, there really is no way I shall ever be mistaken for a sophisticated world traveler sitting at ease in a sidewalk café in Firenze conversing in fluent Italian with passers-by. For one thing, I shall never again…
Last year at this time I was dithering about what I needed to do before we left for Italy. Granted the prospects of travel were diminishing exponentially every day, as the pandemic took hold of the world. But at that time there was still what we thought might be a sliver of an opportunity, or…
Memory can be a slick shyster … a Monte Bank adept at shuffling our recollection of events, be they ghastly or awesome. Really gruesome events remain vivid for a time and then, if we are lucky, fade and lose their sharp edges. They are no less powerful, but their grip eases as our lives move…
Sorry to say, our lovely two-week trip to Florence has been cancelled … yet another casualty of the coronavirus wars. We kept thinking that it might work out, but as you all know there is no future in planning for the future right now. It certainly feels as if life’s highway is chock-a-block with roadkill.…
In the midst of our cold New England winter, with snow and ice framing every view, I dream of Italy and the south of France. Like the memory of sun-drenched childhood, they are forever warm and alive in their colors.