It's good to be home. The house smells a bit musty because of the soggy basement. A reminder that it's back to the to-do list. Sort of. For now, and hopefully from now on, a less urgent and complicated to-do list.
Turns out Harry did meet me at the airport with the kids. I'm so grateful for that! I saw able to snuggle with them in the back seat and tuck them all in to bed. Gosh, I just love those kids so much.
Getting back into the country was no easy feat. First, we were a bit delayed because the airline wanted to hold the plane for 2 late arrivals. WHAT?!?! That was ME a couple hours ago--and I was just 2 minutes after they completed boarding, not 2 minutes before the plane was supposed to take off! It was a deep breathing, all-is-okay moment. We ended up leaving without them. I feel their pain.
I had an empty seat next to me and then there sat a huge Elvis-looking dude from Wyoming who wore his sunglasses the whole ride and drank the flight attendants out of beer and wine. I tried to stay comfortable but my body is just sore. When we landed I needed to pick up my luggage at the terminal, then go through passport verification, then recheck my bags, then go through customs, then take the tram to the main baggage claim area and pick up my bags again. Well, my big overpacked suitcase full of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and my new leather purse never made it from Paris. That agent in Paris just did not have much pull, I don't think. I'm hoping it will show up today with everything intact.
I'm already recognizing after a week with no TV that it is just toxic. Not that this wasn't something I didn't already know, but I'm reminded of how the news, the commercials, the noise pollutes my mind. I'm so glad it was "Green Screen" week at school this week so my kids haven't been watching it either. Maybe we can hold on to this trend.
I'm so glad I did this blog. It's going to serve as a timeless memory for me (my own memory doesn't always serve me well since having kids). I can't wait to upload and label all my pictures. I'll get to that later today, but right now I need a nice hot shower...and to finish my second tall mug of plain 'ol coffee.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
9/23 2:05pm It is me, after all
I should be on my way back to Atlanta right now. I missed my flight in Paris. I’ve been at the airport for 4 hours, but I missed my flight. I’ll take the credit for waiting too long to get to the gate. I was blogging, then got some lunch and realized the kids were getting ready to get on the bus so I called home. I gathered up my things and as I passed customer service on my way to the gate I noticed my name on the monitor informing me I needed to see a customer service agent. So I waited in line for the next available agent--didn’t take too long. I gave him my passport and he tried to figure out why my name was up there. I joked it was because he was going to bump me up to first class. Laughs, no one else in line behind me, conversation about window or aisle seats leads to discussion of destiny and free will, leads to Michael Jackson and crazy trips to Vegas--oh shit! Your flight just closed boarding! Why this guy didn’t have that flashing on his screen the whole time, I don’t know. We ran to the gate and he begged and pleaded (even though it was all in French I could tell this is what he was doing) but because of customs and the plane not boarding where it normally would, blah blah…..
My agent friend booked me on the 4:00 with 2 empty seats next to me (for now). Going back to destiny, maybe for some reason I was not supposed to be on that flight--maybe I’m supposed to be on this one. It’s only a couple hours more. But for a week all my decisions and actions have affected no one but me. I don’t want to hear the disappointment in Harry’s voice. He has already given so much so I could go on this trip. And he doesn’t understand the flighty part of me that allows this kind of shit to happen. I don’t understand it--but it’s part of my make up so I accept it. It’s part of the yin yang balance I think. And the MJ-loving agent guy does feel bad. He came to check on me. I scared him with my tears I think.
I’m not going to get to see my kids tonight. That’s killing me. I miss them and was so looking forward to seeing them in that car tonight. Harry has to explain to them that they’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to see me. My actions and choices affect a lot of people again.
My agent friend booked me on the 4:00 with 2 empty seats next to me (for now). Going back to destiny, maybe for some reason I was not supposed to be on that flight--maybe I’m supposed to be on this one. It’s only a couple hours more. But for a week all my decisions and actions have affected no one but me. I don’t want to hear the disappointment in Harry’s voice. He has already given so much so I could go on this trip. And he doesn’t understand the flighty part of me that allows this kind of shit to happen. I don’t understand it--but it’s part of my make up so I accept it. It’s part of the yin yang balance I think. And the MJ-loving agent guy does feel bad. He came to check on me. I scared him with my tears I think.
I’m not going to get to see my kids tonight. That’s killing me. I miss them and was so looking forward to seeing them in that car tonight. Harry has to explain to them that they’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to see me. My actions and choices affect a lot of people again.
9/23 Traveling home
About to land in Paris, then a few hours before my long flight home. The general recap, all though there will be several, is that I didn’t meditate at all or even reflect as much as I had expected to. That is not an admission of failure, it’s an example of why expectations aren’t useful. It was a wonderfully indulgent trip. Not necessarily in the sense of giving in to all my desires (although I ate more gelato and cheese than I ever normally would in a week). It was all about me and what I wanted on a moment-to-moment basis. Life as a Mommy doesn’t permit me to live that way very often. Fortunately for me, I love being a Mommy so that action in itself is a treat.
My trip was a feast for the senses. Taste: obviously. The food was simpler and more spontaneous. Italians approach food differently. There was the rugged leather-wearing bike rider who popped in the hole-in-the-wall bar for a Panini and a glass of house Chianti that he consumed on the sidewalk in about 3 minutes before he was off again. Not rushing…just feeding himself. Then there is the middle-aged restaurant owner who encouraged me to order and savor each course--appertivo, prima, Segundo, and dessert. I declined because it was just too much food for me but he took pride in his ingredients, in his culture, and in seeing his guests indulging in his recipes. Besides loading up on fresh veggies for the next week, because I missed them and to help with my digestion, I wonder how this experience will alter my eating habits, if at all. I’ll still enjoy a big mug of coffee or two. And I brought home some olive oil, yummy balsamic vinegar, and sea salt with truffles to experiment with. I can’t wait for that.
Sight: the sight of the buildings made of stone centuries ago really makes me feel like I am in a different place. The permanence of it. And the detail and care put in to every structure--not just the Duomos and publicly commissioned work. (more to come on senses…)
My trip was a feast for the senses. Taste: obviously. The food was simpler and more spontaneous. Italians approach food differently. There was the rugged leather-wearing bike rider who popped in the hole-in-the-wall bar for a Panini and a glass of house Chianti that he consumed on the sidewalk in about 3 minutes before he was off again. Not rushing…just feeding himself. Then there is the middle-aged restaurant owner who encouraged me to order and savor each course--appertivo, prima, Segundo, and dessert. I declined because it was just too much food for me but he took pride in his ingredients, in his culture, and in seeing his guests indulging in his recipes. Besides loading up on fresh veggies for the next week, because I missed them and to help with my digestion, I wonder how this experience will alter my eating habits, if at all. I’ll still enjoy a big mug of coffee or two. And I brought home some olive oil, yummy balsamic vinegar, and sea salt with truffles to experiment with. I can’t wait for that.
Sight: the sight of the buildings made of stone centuries ago really makes me feel like I am in a different place. The permanence of it. And the detail and care put in to every structure--not just the Duomos and publicly commissioned work. (more to come on senses…)
9/22 Sunset surprise
I was slowly savoring my last moments on the Piazza del Duomo. Sun was going down and lighting was so cool I was pretending to be a photographer. Really, I was just soaking this place in.
Suddenly I heard a beat in my chest. Made me jump. Then again. I turned around to where the sound was coming from and I saw a drum troupe all dressed in red--maybe 30 people large--called Timbre according to their shirts. All at once that baseline, that rhythmic beating of the drums were just penetrating. It was so powerful. This was my farewell.
Obviously they grew quite a crowd--30 drummers and other percussionists echoing amidst these amazing historical landmarks. These guys and girls (lots of girls!) were so high energy and had a whole routine with a leader up in front getting us all pumped up! I lost it. I started crying. It was so emotional for me--it literally rocked me to my core--I was moved to tears.
For all the separation I’ve noticed in this city the past 3 days, in this moment everyone was one. Everyone was smiling! We were all taking pictures and dancing and following this troupe as far as they were going to take us., gathering up more folks along the way. People were looking out their windows, coming out on their balconies, people working in the shops along the way were coming out to experience this spontaneous parade. It was the beautiful, unifying power of music. It was so magical and so fun! I took the scarf off from around my neck and was waving it in the air, like a good old fashioned New Orleans parade!
They led us through the Piazza del Duomo, the Piazza Republica, and to the Piazza de San Lorenzo where they finally ended in front of the statue of Zeus. Unbelievable. One of the most memorable moments in Italy for me--and I kinda feel like I was designed to be there. The timing was just too perfect.
Suddenly I heard a beat in my chest. Made me jump. Then again. I turned around to where the sound was coming from and I saw a drum troupe all dressed in red--maybe 30 people large--called Timbre according to their shirts. All at once that baseline, that rhythmic beating of the drums were just penetrating. It was so powerful. This was my farewell.
Obviously they grew quite a crowd--30 drummers and other percussionists echoing amidst these amazing historical landmarks. These guys and girls (lots of girls!) were so high energy and had a whole routine with a leader up in front getting us all pumped up! I lost it. I started crying. It was so emotional for me--it literally rocked me to my core--I was moved to tears.
For all the separation I’ve noticed in this city the past 3 days, in this moment everyone was one. Everyone was smiling! We were all taking pictures and dancing and following this troupe as far as they were going to take us., gathering up more folks along the way. People were looking out their windows, coming out on their balconies, people working in the shops along the way were coming out to experience this spontaneous parade. It was the beautiful, unifying power of music. It was so magical and so fun! I took the scarf off from around my neck and was waving it in the air, like a good old fashioned New Orleans parade!
They led us through the Piazza del Duomo, the Piazza Republica, and to the Piazza de San Lorenzo where they finally ended in front of the statue of Zeus. Unbelievable. One of the most memorable moments in Italy for me--and I kinda feel like I was designed to be there. The timing was just too perfect.
9/22 Random daily observations
~I wish people smiled more here.
~I’ve seen a handful of men and boys in red pants. Red pants.
~Chiropractors would make a killing in Italy.
~I’ve learned to spot an American from a block away. Can they spot me?
~Stonehill College t-shirt with a shamrock. That’s where my Dad graduated from college.
~I’ve seen 3 Yankees hats today--2 on locals. Sorry Yanks fans--I think it just means New York to many people.
~It’s easy to spot a blonde foreign student jogging in Florence. Not so easy to spot an Italian foreign student jogging in NYC. Hmm.
~I’ve seen a handful of men and boys in red pants. Red pants.
~Chiropractors would make a killing in Italy.
~I’ve learned to spot an American from a block away. Can they spot me?
~Stonehill College t-shirt with a shamrock. That’s where my Dad graduated from college.
~I’ve seen 3 Yankees hats today--2 on locals. Sorry Yanks fans--I think it just means New York to many people.
~It’s easy to spot a blonde foreign student jogging in Florence. Not so easy to spot an Italian foreign student jogging in NYC. Hmm.
9/22 Market Day
I made a guy mad for not buying a 15 euro piece of crap soccer shirt for my son. And I wanted this great vintage skirt but wasn’t willing to pay 25 euro for it. I did have a great procuitto and mozzarella Panini with Prosecco experience in the Central Market where the food vendors are (same place I toured the morning before). It was called Porks (I think you can find it at www.porks.it) where they had a roasted pig up on the counter, apple in mouth and all, that they owner was carving from. He was working with his grumpy wife, son, and what seemed to be a daughter. They were yelling and screaming at each other, Mom broke a glass and all hands went up in the air…funny. I love the market.
9/22 Last dinner in Florence
Ristorante Giannino in San Lorenzo
Sausages with white beans and house rosso. It’s good. Great people watching…soaking in my last evening. It’s a pretty night. The pecorino with truffle honey looked too good to pass up so I told the waitress that my husband was back at the hotel room and I had to bring it back for him. Even if Harry were back in the room, he’d never in a million years eat honey with truffles. So she was very kind to package it to go for me to enjoy while I pack my bag.
This morning I woke up at 3am on the nose remembering that I didn’t call or Skype the family that evening. Since it was only 9:00am Atlanta time I texted Harry to apologize. He informed me that they had cancelled school the next day due to rain. Apparently it has been raining for 6 days up there and everything is flooded.
So I awoke again at 8:00am, quick got dressed in comfy clothes, threw on a hat and headed out for the Cascine Market. It was about a 20 minute walk along the Arno River, which was nice. Lots of people moving in. As in, movers and furniture, etc. It was neat to see the furniture of people who actually live right there in Florence. Lots of antiques.
I got to walk past the American Consulate and got yelled at for taking a picture. Ooops--dumb tourist.
So the Cascine Market was in fact full of locals and it was very colorful. However, it was very much like a flea market or dollar store (euro store?). And I don’t want to sound like a snob, but I don’t feel right about buying something at an Italian market from someone other than an Italian. Then I heard one old lady tell another old lady in Italian something about Indonesia--as in, “made in” and I realized that although I was in the right place to rub elbows with the locals, I wasn’t finding my boots here. I did buy a backpack for 5 euro to carry back my new purchases since my suitcase was ridiculously full, then I boogied back to the Central Market to try my luck there.
Once I got back to the center of Florence I found gifts for the kids and started my hunt. Discovered my body is just not built for short leather jackets. Boots, you ask? Tried on several but nothing was quite right. I did, however, find a great handbag. It was the first to catch my eye and I was able to find it after a couple more hours of shopping. Yae!
Sausages with white beans and house rosso. It’s good. Great people watching…soaking in my last evening. It’s a pretty night. The pecorino with truffle honey looked too good to pass up so I told the waitress that my husband was back at the hotel room and I had to bring it back for him. Even if Harry were back in the room, he’d never in a million years eat honey with truffles. So she was very kind to package it to go for me to enjoy while I pack my bag.
This morning I woke up at 3am on the nose remembering that I didn’t call or Skype the family that evening. Since it was only 9:00am Atlanta time I texted Harry to apologize. He informed me that they had cancelled school the next day due to rain. Apparently it has been raining for 6 days up there and everything is flooded.
So I awoke again at 8:00am, quick got dressed in comfy clothes, threw on a hat and headed out for the Cascine Market. It was about a 20 minute walk along the Arno River, which was nice. Lots of people moving in. As in, movers and furniture, etc. It was neat to see the furniture of people who actually live right there in Florence. Lots of antiques.
I got to walk past the American Consulate and got yelled at for taking a picture. Ooops--dumb tourist.
So the Cascine Market was in fact full of locals and it was very colorful. However, it was very much like a flea market or dollar store (euro store?). And I don’t want to sound like a snob, but I don’t feel right about buying something at an Italian market from someone other than an Italian. Then I heard one old lady tell another old lady in Italian something about Indonesia--as in, “made in” and I realized that although I was in the right place to rub elbows with the locals, I wasn’t finding my boots here. I did buy a backpack for 5 euro to carry back my new purchases since my suitcase was ridiculously full, then I boogied back to the Central Market to try my luck there.
Once I got back to the center of Florence I found gifts for the kids and started my hunt. Discovered my body is just not built for short leather jackets. Boots, you ask? Tried on several but nothing was quite right. I did, however, find a great handbag. It was the first to catch my eye and I was able to find it after a couple more hours of shopping. Yae!
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