40 in forty: talk to some strangers; they might become friends!

Just about two years ago, I saw I had a new subscriber to Em-i-lis. It was a beautiful Italian name, so I assumed she was a friend of my sister and had heard about my blog through Elia. 

But Elia had no idea who Elisa Valentina was. Hmm. Several months later, Elisa V started leaving comments after some of my posts, and we began to know each other as I replied and she did too.  

Last year, I sent Elisa a birthday card, and also a bottle of jam via Elia as we crossed paths in London.

Elisa and I exchanged Christmas cards in December, and as we share a mad love of shoes and shopping, have emailed pictures to each other of favorite finds as well as pics of our families.

We very much wanted to meet in person this year, and I was sad to tell her that our plans were taking us not to Florence but to Rome. Would she want to come, I asked hesitantly. 

She said YES! She and her partner would love to come to Rome and spend a day with us.  

As if in a movie, we arranged to meet at the Trevi Fountain at 10:30 this morning. Eli and I recognized each other immediately and hugged like old friends. She hugged Tom, I hugged Markus, the boys shook hands, and there you have it. 

We walked all around together, chatting away about a delightful variety of topics, before heading to Grappolo D'oro, the slow food "ristorante romana" where they'd made a reservation. 

Markus, who is a wine and olive oil journalist (you all want to be that now too, right?!), chose a lovely Prosecco with which we began and a delicious Cesanese to follow. 

The food was scrumptious! One of our two best meals in Rome. Dessert, coffee, more walking and then Tom took the boys home to pack while I got some alone time with my lovely friends. 

As we walked, I kept thinking how small the world in some ways becomes by virtue of the Internet. A Florentine woman looks on Food52 for a muffin recipe, sees my handle, clicks on it, discovers that I write a blog, tries it out and likes what she reads.

I'm so thrilled that because she started commenting, I have gotten the chance to know this marvelous woman and her partner, who is really wonderful too. I know that we will all see each other again, and I look forward to it so much. 

We're never too old to make new friends, to learn from others, to be inspired. Sometimes, all you need do is put yourself out there; the outcomes can be unbelievably rewarding and happy.  

What a perfect, happy last day of a very special trip! Grazie mille, Eli e Markus!

The Trevi Fountain, open again! 

PS- We also made friends with the owner of and a waitress at Brassai, the cafe where we had breakfast every morning. This morning was a delicious, delightful goodbye. 

Make a dream come true

For yourself or for someone else. Take a class or learn something you've always wanted to. Help a loved one or a stranger do the same.

This trip came to be after eight months of Oliver expressing an ardent desire to visit Pompeii. He's listened to The Magic Treehouse story, Vacation Under the Volcano, countless times and the ruins and still-alive Mt. Vesuvius had captured his imagination. 

It helps that visiting Italy likely means seeing my sister and her family. It helps that we found good ticket prices and are so very fortunate to be able to take trips like this. And it helps that spring break started on Oliver's birthday which felt awfully special and auspicious. 

In any case, we decided to make a dream come true for our little boy, and I'm so glad we did. What a joy to see him take Pompeii in yesterday.  

I think he was overwhelmed at first, couldn't believe has was there, couldn't quite grasp the enormity of it. Plus, he's 7. He walked for hours, scampering up anything he could, learning the difference between the marble thresholds of the homes and the notched stone ones of the shops.

He delighted in the fact that Pompeiians fixed dyes with urine, and Jack went nuts when the guide mentioned three separate elements: Mercury (sulfide) in the red fresco paint, copper in the blue, and lead, as in the original lead pipes we saw. I adore the nerdy bits of my boys.

Some pictures of a beautiful, memorable day. 

Starting our day off right. 

Pompeii, near the entrance. 

Ol in the amphitheater  

Ruts worn in the paving stones by carts over the years

Original frescos in a home

Marble lion, part of a table base

A snake fresco before the brothel; you should see the menu of options folks had!

Vesuvius in the background

Enjoying a Neapolitan pizza! 

Quick rest

Ol's gift to himself at the archaeological museum in Naples. He thinks it is hilarious! 

Photographs

Take them. Of anything and everything. When you're older, you'll love looking at younger you, waxing rhapsodic about your lack of laugh lines, gray hair and general sag. Although you may love current you, younger you will always be a revelation, from infant to young adult. 

The story of you and the stories of your family weave together into your life's quilt. A plait of memories and pictures and oral history and food will coalesce into a thick braid through which you form at least part of your adult sense of self. 

I don't remember living in Mobile, Alabama, during Hurricane Frederick, but I know I did because my mother took pictures. I can map the faint scar on the interior part of my right ankle to the time I cut it on a fence felled from the storm. I was 5; I don't remember anything, but I've seen myself skipping along the wide truck of a fallen tree, joyful despite the ruin around me. I suppose I cut myself sometime around the moment that photo was taken, a little girl playing one minute and a'tumble the next.

As an adult, I find photographs to be a creative outlet but also a means of recording the details I can't imprint during the seeing and teaching and experiencing. This is especially true since having and traveling with my boys. They are kinetic and inquisitive and busy, none of which is particularly prone to quiet study. 

Since we've arrived here in Rome, I have been overwhelmed on almost an hourly basis by the beauty around every corner, in every nook and on each horizon. It's an embarrassment of visual riches really; how are people who grow up here changed by such constant access to architectural genius, historical treasure, and aesthetic perfection? 

Today I leave you with a humble suggestion: take pictures of the places you go, the people you meet, the sights that stun you in any way. They will change your perspective on the world in which you live, on the ways in which others make lives. These are memories that can ride with you into the years, enriching you (and your family) for generations to come.  

A statue on a bridge to Castel St. Angelo

a stunning doorway

Hulling fresh peas for dinner  

The view from our kitchen window: never.gets.old. 

Mozzarella dripping with fresh oil and sprinkled with salt. 

Oranges at a market. 

An old everything-place near the Vatican. 

Knives at the bloody ready at the butcher's stall. 

The lovely man who made me fresh taboule and said we must eat it within ten minutes. It was divine. 

Lighting candles for Nanny and a friend.