Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Aloha Hawaii
This may not be what your reaction would have been to hearing a top official at the Italian Consulate tell you that you had no chance of getting a visa to move to the place of your dreams.  But after years of self teaching of the Italian language,  throwing out all of your clothes that were perfectly comfortable-- just missing buttons or showing threads or generally not refined enough for Lucca, and pulling your daughter our of the cut-throat race for middle schools in the New York City school system; this was the only other thing we could come up with.


Yes there were dark days of trying to imagine how to get the cats through the requisite, quarantine period, re-conceptualizing the urban wardrobes for moo-moos and printed beach wear, and frantic, costly phone calls to laid back officials of the Hawaiian school system trying to figure out how to get T into middle school and a surf board at the very last minute.

In retrospect, through it did not seem so at the time, it was probably a humorous conversation when F tried to talk K down from the ledge so to speak and convince her to not give up the dream of Italy for an island with limited fresh produce, famed insect life (HA!), and the worst fashion sense of the entire US of A. It is even funnier when you know K, who barely can swim, is afraid of waves, can't drive, and has a phobic reaction to insects, condos, and wretches audibly in the presence of Hawaiian shirts. Still, T did not feel safe in NY, was out of the school system by now, and was encouraged by the thought of doing homework on the beach.

Thank Goodness for F who is a dream believer and has made every single one of K's dreams come true up until now. So that is when we did what we do best as a couple. We started working the phones and plugging into the Power of the Press.  

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