Friday, September 25, 2015

NB
You know why I really like living in Lucca when it doesn't drive me completely crazy? Because sometimes it is Thursday. I have finished teaching several satisfying English lessons and work is over for the day because we don't do more than six lessons a day. I am free if I pretend I don't have hours of preparation to do for the rest of the week. Teachers are good at this kind of pretending. I now recognize the signs of my comrades in denial. And then it is time to drive to Pisa  to pick up the back to back to back to school clothes (because I didn't get it right the first three times) from Zara for T because in Italy you can order online, but then the order goes to the store half an hour away instead of to your house. Some scemo will try to make a three pointed turn on the off ramp to the highway, but we breathe in the air which is filled with fine pasta flour and keep going. . .
and this is what we see out the car window . . .




Then I run home to go meet my gorgeous daughter on the walls where she is reading on a bench. She says to hurry so I don't miss the sunset.



That's a sight for sore eyes, right there.


I made it.
The end.

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