I did not sort out Italian fashions in the two weeks I traveled with my daughter.
For one thing, we were mostly in tourist areas. It was hot, though not as hot as August. Very thin straps on tops and short shorts or skirts were to be covered to go in to the big churches and the Vatican Museum. Having to cover up is just a little ironic since so many of the sculptures are nude or partly nude, both male and female.
I took a black skirt and a pair of pants that are loose and flowered and cool. These proved to be very good guesses for my age group. I had washable travel button down shirts, which worked well. I never used my fleece jacket or rain jacket, on this trip. My feet complained and I might choose different shoes next time.
One recurring theme that I noticed is leopard prints. Dresses, skirts, shirts, blouses. I saw them in each of the five cities. There also is a recurrence of rompers. My daughter comments, “There are very few people that look good in rompers but mostly people don’t.” I didn’t like them in the 1970s and I don’t like them now. We did see a very few either tall or thin or both women who carried them off.
Tourist wear is all over the place but mostly is driven by the heat. Hats were for sale to tourists and large scarves to double as a skirt to cover short shorts or skirts.
I realize that tractable is not about tractors, but I still am thinking about tractors and the Farm Tour. I went to five farms and it was really fun. Not many tractors at the farms I went to. Beautiful Arabian horses at one.
The pig farm is quite wonderful. Lots of piglets. This mom maybe is having a nursing break.
These were only five days old.
And there were sheep and flowers and chickens. And skulls, too.
I’m not sure what was going on with the skulls. I did not get any pictures of tractors. I don’t think the large pigs are very tractable, but they are interested in their visitors.
My daughter and I hike in Cinque Terre, Italy. There are five villages along the coast and a trail from the first to the last. Lots of stairs! And look at the terraces, built to farm the area. They grow mostly grapes and olives.
No cars in the towns.
Here is a map.
Here is a stairway from the path to a terrace.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: waste. No waste here.
This is the Trevi Fountain. We can curate the photographs so that we can’t see the crowd. Here is the crowd.
There are lots of changes from 43 years ago, 1980, when I traveled there. More people. We were traveling in January and February 1980, so that’s not a fair comparison. But the crowd is more diverse. At that time we ran into Australian travelers, the same people in hostels as we traveled. We were mostly Caucasian. Now the crowd is much more diverse and I also do not know what language a person will speak. Race is a messy construct anyhow, very unscientific, but I really like the diversity and not knowing what language a person will be fluent in until I hear them speak.
Here is the Vatican Museum. Also crowded and diverse.
Here is a park near the train station in Rome with some “Olympics” for both kids and adults.
We were staying in hostels and only did one formal tour. I wonder if the expensive hotels have the same diversity.
The recent trip to Italy is the first vacation trip where I have packed a Life Straw. I have three water filter systems in my camping gear and used one on the Hoh River last summer.
A Life Straw is not on the usual tourist packing lists, but the disasters are feeling too close. Not that a life straw would have helped when dams burst or with an earthquake. If one is lucky enough to survive, then the Life Straw might be helpful.
I also had an emergency blanket, my medical license and band-aids. I should have brought adhesive tape, which is much better for blisters, but I didn’t. I bought some. I put the adhesive tape over a blister and then left it. It stays nicely through showers.
I had a mini tool on my key chain and wanted a knife, but that’s tricky with all those airplanes. My daughter had medicines, including benadryl and acetaminophen and ibuprofen. She is in Europe for a while yet.
My son and a friend were once sent home from Sunday church group for lighting a sock on fire. Except that they had failed. “They should not have matches.” said the director. “They have matches and jack knives.” “Emergency preparedness.” I said. “After all, we may have that earthquake some day.” “No,” said the director. I told my son he could walk, since it’s about half a mile. It was raining. “Bored with the church group?” I said, when he got home. “Mom, we were trying to light a wet sock on fire in the old fountain that doesn’t work. Outside in the rain. We couldn’t even light it.” “Adults are a bit sensitive about teens with matches since the local store burned.” “Yeah,” said my son. “Tell me about it. We were bored.”
We are in an earthquake zone. I wouldn’t need the Life Straw if I am down on the beach under the cliffs, because they are sand and mud and they will come down. There is some luck involved, but it doesn’t stop me from walking the beaches.
Prayers for all of the disaster zones and everyone who has lost friends and family and homes and community.
Our Rotary groups buy a Shelterbox every year, which are sent all over the world with kits to help 20 people. A tent, cooking supplies for the area, water filter and even a few crayons and coloring for kids.
I do not know who this is. Lady Godiva seems unlikely, since she is Anglo-Saxon and this is a Florence Garden. Is there a Greek or Roman story that you know about?
When my (now ex) husband and I were first married, we bought two gold chains. I was just starting medical school. Third year we hit the wards. This meant that I was often running around the hospital wearing scrubs, rings off. I wanted a chain to put my wedding ring on. Some people tied them to their scrub pants, but they can get lost.
I go home from Richmond, Virginia to Alexandria. We show the chains to my parents, both used ones, but gold.
My sister reports to me later. “Our mom said, why are they buying gold chains? That’s dumb. They don’t have any money!”
“Maybe they want them,” says my sister.
“Well, I think it’s a waste.”
“You bought more paper the other day.”
“Oh. Hmmm, yes I did.”
“You aren’t using that paper yet and you have an entire vault of paper.”
“Yes, but I am an artist. I need supplies.”
“Katy wants the chain for work to put her ring on. How is that different?”
“Oh, well. Maybe you’re right.”
I am very pleased that my sister defends me but it also was very funny. My mother had a stack with one by ones with thin 24 by 30 boards, on them, stacked five feet high to put paper in. Cheap shelves, though it would be totally unstable in an earthquake. She bought paper that she loved and used it too. She did watercolors, etchings, carried a sketchbook everywhere, oils, scorned acrylics, woodblocks, clay, colored pencils, chalk pastels, oil pastels and then she loved crafts as well. She was a master of paper mache. Artists need supplies, but everyone has something like that. My daughter did not get the pack rat gene and is a minimalist, but even she has some things she really likes. Real stationary, for one.
I wore that chain for more than 14 years. We were divorced at 14 years but are still good friends. My ex went on the nursing school and has been a Covid-19 hero, much to some people’s surprise.
My mother was inconsistent, as we all are. She prided herself on being frugal and not spending money, but when it came to art supplies, she wanted them. She still could be frugal but she certainly had the supplies and she would stock up when beautiful paper was on sale! And pencils and pastels and watercolors and oils. My father would quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” Both he and my mother would call each other out when one was being inconsistent. They could be very very funny.
The lead photograph is from winter 1991-92. Mark Warren Wilson, Helen Burling Ottaway, Christine Robbins Ottaway, me and Malcolm Kenyon Ottaway. Taken by Joel F., my sister’s first husband, with my camera. This next was taken by my father and there is Joel F. We went to Colorado and all stayed in a condo and skiied. My father found out that he really did not like heights, either driving or the ski lifts. Joel and Mark staged a pretend dramatic argument making fun of Chris and my arguments, and they were right on. We were quite embarassed and annoyed, but not instantly cured. And the skiing was delightful.
My mother, father and sister have all died. I do miss them. Hugs for all the recent losses of people.
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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