Arrivederci

This being the last time I will have electronics at my disposal until we return to the US, I am taking time this last morning in Giove to say farewell to this blog, and to my readers. It is a foggy morning on this mountain, but the sun is breaking through over the Tevere valley. The local nurse is here, taking care of Greg's wounds; we have said prayers of thanks that the report from London doctors has been so good. Apparently all signs of cancer are gone; and the wounds are healing well.
Eileen and John have just gone up the steps to buy fresh fish from the man who comes by with his cart on Tuesdays and waits at the little square near the Bar; and John will bring me a last cappucchino on their way back down.
Our friends Alfredo and Olga, up from Roma for a day visit, will pick John up in a half-hour and take him to Bomarzo, the Monster Park nearby (I know Lee Sandlin will be jealous). I am going to stay here and clean up the downstairs apartment where we have roosted, as another friend is coming in this noon to take over the place for a week or so.
A neighbor will bring lunch by in the early PM, when we will have a last feast -- with the Bacchellis, new guest Laura, and the family here present - and probably a few more neighbors and friends, if I have a guess.
Then Alfredo will drive John, me and Lily to Roma, where we will cab it to Ciampino (wheee, one more Roman cab ride!) -- and we'll fly back to London later in the evening.
If this is just an information transmission, please accept it as such -- there is too much to say about our time in Italy to squeeze into this format. I will send a summation of the trip when we are home and rested a bit.
Our love goes out with this, to each and every one of you.

Camera col Vista

Come along for a magical mystery tour, to Bella Firenze .....
We were driven north on the Autostrada del Sole, through Umbria and on into Tuscany -- in warm, pastel late-summer weather, on Saturday morning. Pulling into the Piazza San Marco -- our intrepid driver Max (Massimo of course, and very handsome with a wonderful Roman Nose) stayed with the Alfa while we walked around to our too too posh little hotel (google it -- La Loggiata dei Serviti, Florence) and checked in. Shades of Leenie's film, friends: I threw open the wooden shutters in our room and there before my eyes appeared the roof of the Duomo and to its right the dome of Santa Croce; and to its left, the gleaming marble of the Baptistery and Bell Tower-- our own Room With AView! Immediately the Girls went off to shop; and John and I walked, through the balmy and beautiful streets of Firenze, over to the market square and down and up and around until we were tired; and then sank into a cafe on a big square and had lunch -- a cool glass of liquid, a big salad, good bread.
The rest of the afternoon saw more walking, a cono di gelato of course, --and lots of people-watching.
At 5 PM, Leenie and Lil dashed into the hotel where we awaited them -- they threw on some spectacular outfits --and we all ran out to catch a taxi to Piazza della Republica, where Lil and we had another cool drink in one of the more posh cafes in the city while Leenie ran over to the cinema to set up for the evening.
And what an evening. The very beautiful and elegant little art house was filled with the cogniscenti di Leenie; our girl gave a beautiful opening talk in Italian and English to introduce the film (and of course, her Genitori, us!) and then the lights dimmed and the real magic began. What a beautiful cinematic triumph our girl has concocted -- we laughed, we smiled, we gasped at the luscious shots of Florence and Fiesole and -- to the strains of the Vivaldi 'Gloria' -- locations in Bella Roma; and we all shed tears as the credits rolled, including 'to the memory of a true Uomo Buono, Fernando Ghia' --- as we applauded and applauded.
You all will get the treat yourselves when the film is shown on PBS early next year.
The magic continued as we sipped Prosecco with those cogniscenti in the lobby while Leenie accepted plaudits right and left; and then it went right on out with us into the moonlit streets as we walked to the magnificent Gilda's ristorante -- walked across the Piazza del Duomo, with the Brunelleschi monument and the Baptistery and Bell Tower crowned by a full moon floating in the skies.
Leenie's friends were crowded into the ristorante when we arrived, scoffing down beakers of vino and loading up plates piled with antipasti from a three-table buffet; but we of the inner circle were ushered past all the hoi-polloi, and down to a private banquet table in the lower Cantina. There then ensued about a 15-course menu of one glorious platter after another, carried down narrow winding stairs by various functionaries -- as different luminaries and friends drifted down to share a bite or a sip of wine with us -- the director, the casting director, etc. etc.
As midnight came around, we shared sips of Vin Santo and munched homemade biscotti -- and then down came Gilda with a covey of dolci that could not be beat.
Oy veh.
A big yellow taxi came and took us back to the hotel, where we sank into a splendid big bed and slept the sleep of the sated.
Waking to the sound of Sunday morning bells, we grabbed a bite of breakfast and walked over to the San Marco museum to stand in awe before Fra Angelico's announcing angel -- John went round the various cells to see Savonarola's artifacts and such, and I just stayed with Mary and her angel, watching the play of light over Gabriel's wings and looking at the background of the San Marco convent and cell in which Angelico placed the duo.
We drove back to Giove -- stopping in Orvieto for another meal that could not be beat and a look at the golden facade of that cathedral; and on the way home, up the hill, we stopped off at Manlio and Claudia's villa for a tea and a look at the location of the August wedding.
Then, home to sleep.
For more practical details of what's happening this week, etc., tune in to the next blog.
This is not about practical details, this is about a dream weekend.

Just a little Sunday evening update

First of all, Greg is doing well; we will hear from his London doctors tomorrow re the results of the tests they took last week.
Secondly, you will have to tune in tomorrow to get the full and glorious report on our weekend in Firenze. Suffice to say: it was glorious.
Finally, and moslt importantly -- Tanti Auguri to the Elves!! We will try to call you mad little rabbits, later today. We just got back from our road trip and found the good news awaiting us in Giove. (Do you have any idea how much work TWO children are??? But after that it makes absolutely no difference how many more you have -- at least, that is what John told me when he asked me to marry him.... I don't know if he would say that any more.)
It's your tired Franny signing off -- will be back tomorrow with the full story of the Room With A View.
Love, Me

L'Avventurra

Shopping in a village in Umbria is truly an adventure. Good thing all is small, as you have to go back, and go back again -- at least if you're the Italian version of a dumb gringo.
Yesterday afternoon, in the misty rain, Lil and I went up to the Farmacia to get Leenie some eucalyptus nasal spray. We knew the right words (along with some pantomime of squirting something up your nose) and found the right stuff; but we didn't have enough Euros with us. So we tried to buy bread and milk and butter -- but every food emporium was chiuso. 'Oh, right, go back at 5.30 when they open up' said La Mamma. John and Lil went back as bidden, but -- still chiuso. 'Oh, right, they are all closed on Thursday afternoons, I forgot,' said La Mamma. .... well, at least they had enough money to get the nasal spray .... But no butter to make Gnocchi al Burro e Salvia -- a shame, as we had loads of sage growing right outside the kitchen door ; so I raided the cupboard and threw an Arrabbiata sauce together, and we ate.
Today, in an incredible thunderstormy morning, Lil and John fared forth and came home with everything we needed for me to make a big pot of stew for tonight's dinner -- except the meat. There was much discussion at the meat counter, but John did not want lamb; Lil did not EVER want veal; and they looked at the shoppers as if they were nuts when they asked for Cinghialle;-- (I thought Umbria this was pork heaven???)
so the shoppers have to go out in the storm again at 5.30 PM when in theory the shops will again be open. Otherwise, I guess we will be having a sausage stew for dinner.
PS: But Umbria is Pork Heaven, after all: along with what they ordered and paid for, there was a lagniappe: a package of John's favorite sandwich filling, Porchetta al'Herbes! It got put into their shopping bag accidentally (or by the special favor that God grants innocent fools) -- and the lady who had ordered it, in front of them, had griped 'Where's my package?' and it could not be found, so she got another package of porchetta for herself, I guess -- shall we eat this stuff and put some money in the poor-box at church on Sunday? You bet your porchetta!

List of things I love about Italia

1. The lunch we just scoffed down, from the (yes) truck stop at the bottom of this hill; it was one of the best meals I have had in a very long time, perhaps since I was last in Italy. The magnificent Simone, who catered the Giove wedding, threw it together for us at the last moment when we realized we didn't have the energy to go out. Creamy, hot polenta with drifts of grated Parmesan stirred into it, and crisp-fried prosciutto and wild mushrooms scattered over the top; sauteed red radicchio lettuce; little timbales of some sort of eggy custard with herbes and truffles; acqua minerale; and a little tiramisu for a dessert, which we are having with hot herbal tea. It's a grey, misty, cool day over the valley, but the fire is blazing in the hearth. Lily is cutting out samples of clothing she wants to buy, from a fashion magazine; Greg is consulting the BBC web for news of the California fires; John is reading 'What If' -- a wonderful compendium of historians' guesses about how things might have turned out differently in our world's past eons (I'd love to see a 'What if Al Gore had won the last presidential election along with a full Dem slate in Congress?') -- and Leenie is about to take a big, deep, hot bubble bath to cure her bad cold. And I am off to take a nap and dream about this village. Later, Lily is going to give me a guided tour of the food possibilities (sweet foods, that is) in Giove Alto.

Ciao! I'm in love!

Dear children, dear comrades, you won't believe this:
I am falling in love. Si, with Italy. At last.
There's nothing like a late in life romance, and this is going to be interesting.
We had a truly unnerving trip down from London -- no, not due to any flight difficulties, but to the boorish Brit ground crew in Gatwick, who made our boarding with Greg very complicated and unpleasant. But we finally squeezed onto the tiny EasyJet airbus (now known to us forever as SleazyJet), and flew speedily and handily, if sardinelike, to Ciampino airport. Leenie had reserved the largest car possible to transport Greg and his crutches, and the rest of us, and our luggage: they gave us an Alfa hybrid wagon, dontcha know. We headed north on the A1 autostrada, and one hour-plus later, about 11 PM, we were wending our way up the switchback road to Giove.
Oh, my friends, what an experience this is going to be for me -- for us..... Leenie had been feeling awful, with a bad cold and various other minor but aggravating symptoms, and of course very stressed; but as we walked down the hill to her house with our luggage, she hugged me and said, 'Oh, I feel so much better, already!' .... and so did we all. There is something magical about this Giove, and I am going to try to absorb it fully -- and if possible, transcribe it in some sort of words for you.
I slept intermittently, last night, in this gorgeous guest apartment down the hill. The whole house is nestled into the side of the top of the mountain, and the views across the Tiber valley are incredible.
We woke at sunrise, threw on warm clothes, and walked up the flagstone steps to the road, and over a few paces, to the village cafe -- where we wolfed down two cappuccini each -- oh, yum!
I don't find words to describe what I'm experiencing, just yet; I'm overwhelmed with the beauty of this place. Give me time, and I'll try to convey what I'm seeing and feeling -- it's still early in the morning of my first day in Paradise.
Suffice to say that I've already said to John, 'why don't we come here and live for a year?'

A quiet day in London Town

First, Greg went to his doctor appointment this AM; came back with a RX for antibiotic and injunction to stop climbing stairs (bwaahaahaa, in this house) -- he has an infection in the incision.... and the dressing should be changed by a medic, once a day. So we are thinking that the best place for him will be the Giove house, where their living quarters are all on one floor; where a doctor and nurse are in the village and will come daily to the house; and where the entire village will be on call for his every need. We are now in process of amending all the travel plans, and if I can I will get back later with the new arrangements.
So to ease our spirits, we settled Gregorio in splendor on the leather sofa in the parlor, left John in charge, and us girls went out to Shop. I am now the proud wearer of genuine Aussie Ugg boots -- am i COOL?
Lily is home, scoffing cookies and packing for Italy. I had a needed nap, and am going to make a festive roast lamb dinner this evening.
More later; all is as well as can be expected, this London afternoon.

Velly velly good food tonight

Kirit the Driver knows great Indian food. I can say that with confidence, after our feast (out in Wembley, of all places) this evening. Sadly, Greg and Leenie didn't go with John and me, as Greg was not feeling quite up to the trip. But we were up to it, and then some. It was a very plain but very fine restaurant, in a heavily Indian neighborhood; one of Kirit's friends works next door to the restaurant, and joined us for a foursome. It was vegetarian Southern Indian continent style of food, and there was a lot of it, all wonderful.
So here we are back in Kensington, safe and sound and full, and ready for bed. We are very relieved to get good news from Santa Barbara, where Mary Jane has been of great concern to us, but seems to be out of danger now, thank God.
Santa Barbara is having other troubles, I hear from Aunt Poo (known to some, perhaps, as my sister Melissa); the Zaca Fire ashes have been stirred up by Santa Ana winds and the air is a mess -- I'm grateful not to be there, as that kind of air quality caused my pneumonia this summer, and I don't need that again.
Tomorrow we will be resting and packing and getting ready to head south to Roma on Wednesday. Also, Lily comes home tomorrow from her time with her dad, and I really have missed having her here, so looking forward to that.
All is well at 4 Cope Place tonight, as I pray it is for all of you.

Two days with dons

First, let me say that Greg feels much better today; he is able to get down the stairs for some of the day, and the pain is less. We're having dinners, these days, around the coffee table in the parlor; tonight, Leenie made a fantastic Moroccan tagine for us, and we sat around on pillows on the floor, just like in the Casbah (well, almost).

So yesterday John and I saw the powerful, immensely sad and thoughtful play about CS Lewis and his late-in-life love for Joy Gresham, who died three years after they married.... and yes, Jim, it made me teary too. (It made us think a lot about Leenie and Greg's close brush with the fear of loss; and reminded us that every day must be treasured.... Leenie and Greg are now celebrating each day as a 'birthday' -- the 'first day of the rest of their life' as the old folk song goes.)

Well, any play about C S Lewis is about Oxford; so today, John and I left the Cope Place house to the newlyweds, and went out to Oxford. What a beautiful day! The weather was perfect autumn, the trip was easy. And Oxford was a joy. All that I have read about that city of bells and towers came alive as we toured the huge, beautiful campus. This excursion was one of the highlights of my trip so far.

So, back safe in Kensington, we celebrated this 'birthday' with Greg with a lemon cheesecake crowned with a marzipan camel Leenie found in a local patisserie -- this decor in honor of her ride on a real camel a few days ago in the Moroccan desert. (I'll let her tell that story, later.)

No telling what tomorrow will bring; but for today, we are well and happy, and who can ask for anything more?

Goodnight, dear ones all.

Saturday Night Live

Yes, we are alive; though Greg is floating a bit, on pain meds, but determined to watch the World Rugby Championships on the telly, so has achingly and laboriously limped downstairs to the sofa as I write. John and Leenie have gone around to the local Lebanese deli to pick up some grub, and I'm spouse-sitting. What a lovely honeymoon, eh, Gregorio?
Me and my spouse got downtown again, to attend a matinee of the beautiful play, 'Shadowlands, -- which John had never seen. Great performances.
Dinner has just arrived; back at you later.

best laid plans gang aft agae etc.

Suddenly, everything changed; and my former weariness got put into proper perspective.

Let me say right nere that all turned out well, but read on.

When we arrived home from the downtown excursion on Thursday, there was a message waiting on the phone, from Leenie. Greg had had a call from his London doctor; a small mole on the back of his leg, which had been removed the week before, has turned up malignant, and doctor wanted to have another loLok at the tissue and to remove another mole nearby. So they were getting a flight home that night, would be arriving at 2 AM and had an apppointment at the clinic for Friday morning early.

We had to break the news to Lily as she came in from school; set up an Aerobed in the parlor; get some dinner into ourselves; and field calls from various points on the Marrakesh route to the airport.

John had a long, informative chat with Lil before she went somberly to bed, to fill her in on what info she needed on the situation with Greg -- hard to know what to say in such a case, but John found words, as you might believe.

So the irreplaceable Kirit picked the poor ex-honeymooners up at Gatwick in the middle of the night, and they plopped down on the Aerobed and slept a few hours. Thank God we were here for them; we fed Lil her hot breakfast and got her off to Friday morning last-day-of-school classes (with a quick hug for Mom and Greg before departure); I had a chance to hug my Leenie and let her cry her worries onto my shoulder a bit; and then they were whisked away again by Kirit to the doctor.

Denoument: the original lesion was not deep enough embedded to be metastic; the second mole was removed and was not very deep either; lab reports will come back next week, but other than a lot of pain from the incision and stiches, he is OK; and all of us are feeling a bit lightheaded with relief.

Yes, it is hard to end the longed-for Morrocan honeymoon; but Leenie says: life is one big honeymoon, as long as Greg is OK.

More later.

Thursday, London Town

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning (this being the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea)-- and decided this was the day to go into town. After a fortifying cuppa and a bite to eat, we hopped the No. 9 bus and rode. Past Kensington Palace we rode, with its beautiful huge park (nannies pushing full prams around); past Queen Vic's gleaming golden monument to her love for her consort, Albert; on down past Hyde Park, Green Park, Regent's, and any number of other parks, past Picadilly, and into Leicester Square. (It's a long way from Tipperary, folks.)

With the gift of theatre vouchers, we walked over to the venue that is showing a newly mounted production of one of my favourite plays, 'Shadowlands' -- the lovely and sad story of C.S. Lewis and Joy Gresham's May-December romance. John has never seen it, so we got tickets for Royal Circle seats (posh), for Saturday matinee.

Then we hopped another bus up to the British Museum (hasn't lost its charm, yet). Before entering to do a little shopping at the gift kiosk there, we noted Ye Olde Museum Tavern, across from the gates, so followed our thirsty appetites over there. Pub lunch, darlings; love that stuff -- pint of Beck's, bangers and mash for me, roast beef for my consort.

In the museum at last, which I have never before entered, we marvelled at the modern central rotunda, which now houses the First Emperor of China exhibit of amazing terracotta armies -- which we all have tickets to view next Wednesday AM; and then I did a little shopping while John stood around.

After that is when things started to go downhill. It was mid-aft, beginning of rush hour, and we thought we'd mapped out an easy bus route to get home to Kens. before Lily was due from school. Wrong. It took us about two hours, changing buses and seeking the next appropriate stop-bench, round and round the circular Aldwych bus hub; let me tell ya, we did a lot more walking than riding, on this journey home.

I had reached my last reserves of energy before we finally got on the No. 9 bus headed west as required. This part was no fun, any more. I was so tired I was weepy, not a lot of fun as a travelling companion I must confess shamefulliy.

Next time we go to town, it's 'call Kirit and book a ride' time.

the ladies of discipline

So, before Lil talked to her mum on Tues. night, she asked me what I would do about her 'judgement' if I were her mum. Thanking the Lord that this is not the case, I said I'd probably give her a chance to show some responsibility; but that, like my own dear mother, I try to refrain from giving advice on childrearing to my own kids, as I believe it's their responsibility to decide on such matters.
When Lee talked to her kid, she said she'd give her one day of probation and check with us grandparents on Wednesday evening before making a final decision on the afterschool activity today.
Let me tell ya, that girl knows her stuff. She did two loads of wash and put them away; straightened up her room and took pictures with her camera phone and sent them to mum as proof; went to bed on time. On Wednesday she promised to be home at 5 Pm, but showed up a quarter-hour early; took us 'round to the cute street nearby for tea at mum's favorite local cafe; brought us home and sat us down in the parlor while she prepared a gourmet three-course dinner for the three of us and served it herself in the dining room; and gawd knows what else.
So when Leenie checked in with us last night, we had to give very high marks on all counts -- save one point off because she bought fresh basil to add to one of her gourmet recipes and forgot to use it!
Of course she is going to her friend Phoebe's after school, for high tea; and is to be home at 6:30 PM, latest, this eve.
And friends, let me tell ya, I'm so grateful to be watching this from the cheap seats, and not being part of the cast!

Deja vu -- over The Pond

One of the (mixed) blessings of this visit is going to be observing my once-teenaged daughter managing her own almost-teen girl........ When we arrived, as you may know, Leenie and Greg were already in Morocco, and Lil had been with her dad for the usual weekend visit. When Miss L. arrived back here at home, after school on Monday evening, we had a little planning session (with lists and notebooks, and with Nanny Linda in attendance) so that we grandparents would be apprised of the week's schedules. I made notes (of course): Lily would be home at about 7 PM on Tuesday, because there was a birthday party after school for friend Amy; at 5 PM (after choir practice) on Wednesday; etc.
As Linda was listening in on this, I assumed that it was all approved plan, and made note so we could be calibrated on her schedule.
Oopz ... how soon I forget the nimble ways of 'Les Jeunes Filles.' -- apparently Mum had NOT been apprised of a Tuesday return at 7 PM, after dark.
So as Tuesday afternoon wended its way, we received a call from Morocco; how were we getting on, what did we think of lovely Lil, etc. I was filling Mum in on our experiences so far, and said 'So, John is cooking dinner for us tonight, and Lil should be home in another couple of hours, around 7 PM' -- and there was this ominous silence on the other end of the wire. 'at 7 PM??? ... why so late?' came the measured response. I explained about our planning session of the day before, and the birthday party, but was realizing that this was not going well.
So a bit after we rang off, I got a jingle from Lily; tearfully she advised me that she was headed for the bus and would be back here before 6 PM or shortly thereafter.
'Has your mother rung you up, then?' -- 'Yes... sniff ... see you shortly...'
When our heroine arrived thereafter, we learned that she was now on probation, having at least deflected a very possible grounding for the rest of the week; there is another Very Important party on Thursday afternoon, and we will confer with Morocco this evening for a probation hearing....
Dear Lil, she can break my heart, just as her mother always could; it's a damn' good thing her mother knows the drill, due to much sad experience, and keeps a tight rein on Missy.
So today, Lil is due home promptly at 5 PM -- she is to take us 'round to Stratford Lane for tea; and she had already contracted to cook dinner for us this evening, a special new recipe she has just learned. After that, we are to report to Command HQ and then we'll see if probation is to be lifted. I should really work her little tail off, while I have all this power over the child, eh?
(For parents who may be wondering -- yes, Lily usually has a lot of homework in the afternoons; but this week is just prior to the mid-term break here in GB, and it's party time (for some schoolgirls, anyway; we'll see if our social butterfly has her wings permanently clipped, or if she will escape.)
Tee hee / Bwaahaahaa / Sigh.

Raining??? In London???

Yes, my dears -- our first rainy day in London Town -- But it don't have me low, nor have me down. After a fine little pasta dinner with Lily and Nanny Linda last night and a good sleep, we are feelin' fine ... and very cozily domestic in Kensington.
.... Lil got home at last, around 5 PM yesterday, standing on the steps as I opened the door, looking all tall and gorgeous and dragging two largish pieces of luggage and a beautiful big purse. Much hugging and exclaiming, and then we girls cuddled on the sofa and nattered while John popped round to the local gym club for an appointment with a physiotherapist to analyze his suddenly very painful knee joint. (That session was a success -- apparently he had twisted his ankle and leg muscles on one of his morning walks recently and that was causing the trouble; the therapist did some work and recommended some healing excercises, and it's much better this morning.)
We made a hot breakfast for Lil and sent her off to the bus for school; Linda has gone out for the day; and we are now the keepers of the castle for the day.
This may sound like a very mundane way to spend our first days in England, but rest assured that it suits me just fine. I am realizing that I've really missed the old days of my domesticity, when I was staying at home, keeping house and making dinners and lunches and listening to plaintive tales in the evening -- as last night, when as bedtime neared for Lil, she suddenly panicked -- Oh, no! I don't have a clean uniform shirt, and we have no washing machine soap! Well, I say thank God for a Nanny! Linda came to the rescue and washed out a shirt by hand; and of course then Lil discovered two clean shirts, hanging on the back of a door in her room .... Memories, memories ....
Anyway, today we shall wander out around the neighborhood during the next break in
the showers; and I have the ingredients in for making the famous butterscotch chip oatmeal cookies, so that's my plan for this Tuesday.
Leenie has left us vouchers to use for a theatre excursion; we'll peruse Time Out and pick out some choices for a play this weekend; and we're researching the 'net for excursion data (Greenwich, Hampton Court,Oxford) for this coming long weekend. Lily will go to Danny for four days, from Friday until Tuesday next (when the honeymooners also return to earth from The Casbah) and we prepare to depart for sunny Italy next Wednesday afternoon.
The amazing Kirit is at our command for evening excursions this weekend, and is planning to guide us to his favorite Indian restaurant in town where, in his words, the naan bread is as big as the tabletop. Can't wait.
Meanwhile, as I cooked dinner last night, it's John's turn today (Lebanese Hash, with ingredients from the little Lebanese deli around the corner from here); and Lily promises to be home early tomorrow and to cook dinner for us -- that WILL be interesting, I'm sure!

the eagles have landed

.... or the crows, or whatever that WW2 phrase was ..... anyhow, yes, we flew safely and on time into London Heathrow, fetched up by Kirit The Driver -- and deposited by him at 4 Cope Place early Sunday afternoon.
Those who have been here know about the stairs; suffice to say we were grateful for Kirit's assistance getting up to our penthouse bedroom (5 flights of steep and narrow stairs, for the uninitiated).
After unpacking as best one may in someone else's bedroom, we walked next door to a fine little Italian cafe for excellent pizza and a glass of Prosecco -- and returned home for a blessed hot shower and 12 hours of blessed sleep.
Have spoken a couple of times to Lil -- at her dad's until 5 PM today -- and also to Leenie and Greg in Marrakesh (they are having a luxurious time of it there).
Today is orientation; we've found the French cafe (croissants and cappuccino) and the local market and other necessaries on Kensington High Street. Now we're settling in at the house, reading the Int'l. Trib, making tea, and taking it easy until Lil comes home -- peace and quiet most needed, after the long journey.
More later --

Packing

Can you imagine the lists being made in this house today? We're both sitting at our separate computers, in John's little office; it feels mighty silly.
I have to tell ya, getting ready for a trip like this is not as easy as it used to be in my younger days (or perhaps my senioritis is kicking in and I just don't remember how it was.)
I just hope the trip will be a lot more fun than the getting ready.
My philosophy, children, is to lock up the house, walk down the steps -- and leave it all behind. From there on, we're in the hands of God; and I'll just go with whatever happens, happily.
And packing? Yes, that's tomorrow.
We leave SBA at 2 PM on Saturday.
Tonight we're being taken out by my sis for a shrimp and Margaritas feast at the Beachside, on Goleta Beach -- it is glorious Indian Summer weather in SB today, so a farewell munch-out on the sand by the surf sounds like a great way to forget about lists and suitcases for a bit.

Cheerio!

Dear Family:
I'm going to experiment with this whole newfangled blog thing, to see if I can give you a peep at our adventures in London and Giove this month.
We depart on this coming Saturday afternoon; and will return to SB on November 1st. I'm not taking my macbook with me, but we will have access to the Net via Leenie's PC (sigh) -- so if I can figure out how to speak Gatesian, I will be able to update this from time to time. (I'm sure Lily will be able to tutor me.)
If you would be so kind as to comment herewith that (a) "yes, I read you" or (b) "Huh?" or even better (c) "Dummy, here's what you need to do to blog correctly" -- I'd appreciate your input before we leave these shores.