We arrived many hours earlier than originally planned because of our delayed flight. What? Yes, we were able to snag earlier flights. Four people. Layovers in Newark. Two final destinations. All done in apps. Thank god Ken is a seasoned traveler!
Margins were tight but not that tight. You have to go through passport control, customs, and security (twice if you check a bag, which I do).
Even snagging a cab is hairy (yet another travel app). Will they come or not? Will we miss another train? We could get train tix from Florence right to the airport in Rome, which was nice.
A layover in Newark is dumb (you fly right over Boston!), but necessitated by using United. Next time, I’ll want to go direct. For some reason the United app was telling us the train ride between terminals in Newark was 81 minutes. It was not — more like six — and I suspected as much but you don’t know til you go, so it’s all a little breathless.
Anyway. Yawn. Right?
The real story here is arriving home to sweet Finny. Body wiggles and tiny throat yelps (a sound he makes at no other time).
Also sweet was arriving home near sunset to a garden that had popped in our absence. It happens every year, the popping, but not usually with time away to render it all so dramatic.
Second to last night dinner. They had a wine window, which is a thing. People gathering and drinking in the streets. Even that night, when it was raining on and off.
Well this is too long. I have to figure out if my messages to cover designer are getting through. Reedsy, the marketplace site I’m using, isn’t that user friendly. Then writing with others at ten. Also: Dog walk! Supposed to be in high eighties later. Ugh.
What a glorious sight your magnificent garden. I look and look at the shades of green and feel as if I am in a sylvan forest. So I looked up the word sylvan and found this coincidental note:
“Silva or sylva is a Latin word meaning ‘wood or forest’, with silvan or sylvan meaning ‘of the wood or forest’. In forestry we use the word silviculture, meaning literally culture of forests. Foresters are sometimes called silviculturists. Silvanus was the Roman God of forests, and also fields and boundaries.”
By the way, Welcome Home. I am amazed that you are already blog posting, doing a writing class, walking Finn, but then that is expected since he missed you so but still, your energy is formidable!
The time-change is working in my favor today. Awake and sharp before six.
Thanks for the sylvan notes. There is so much green and I love that especially because due to partial shade we can’t grow a lot of the more colorful perennials. I wonder if I could call myself a “silviculturist” based on my hair alone!
I felt very “there” with you, and a nice feeling of living life to its fullest🌞
Welcome back to the deluge of American chaos and thriving white crime. Nature can still save us – wait, *can* nature still save us?
I kept up with news online but watching this weeks Maddow last night I realized it’s harder hitting when you watch and hear the news in tv. It is shocking where we find ourselves. Has anyone heard from Dick Durbin?
Your garden looks Amazing!!! Your trip pictures even more Amazing!! I loved traveling along .. thanks for all the photos. When you wrote travel is a privilege I totally agree although my friend who is a world traveler always says it’s not for sissies. Anyway I’m glad you’re home again … not nearly as glad as Finn. They do miss us 😢
I hope to post more photos from Italy. Hard to know how much I’ll want to now that I’m home.
oh, that last picture … a forever-memory keeper
I love that picture too all the more so for it being a little candid.
Dee~ Thank you for taking us along with you! Such great travel pics. I spent some time considering the Stumbling Stone, rereading about them. The garden looks amazing. The Hasta (and everything) thriving!
But, oh man, that last pic is such a great capture of a moment in time, expressions priceless 🙂
The Stumbling Stones are such stunning reminders of a horrific chapter of history, all the more so for being in the ordinary sidewalks in the middle of ordinary life.
This garden had its arms open wide for you. And Finn! Beside himself with joy. Your travelogue has been a welcome respite from the hellscape of the trial and scum that slink out of the weeds to pose with him at the end of each session. I hope you’ll print and frame a few of these photos, especially the Vermeer and the Norman Rockwell.
I followed along some but not as much as usual and it was relieving.
Welcome to the jungle!
Tomorrow I will weed.
Beautiful garden to come home to and beautiful memories. And a happy Finn!
That last image is wonderful! And Finn looking at you (and ham) is so so funny. Love the Vermeeresque photo.