In Italy

It is a very common occurrence to be walking in Rome and turn a corner to see something old and famous and entirely too big in its reputation and reach and perspective for the piazza that it's situated in. The Spanish Steps could easily be missed if you are bent on getting to the metro stop near their base.  As could the square where the Trevi Fountain is is hidden away so effectively.

Equally common is turning an unknown corner and seeing something you have heard about your whole life but never really understood or imagined. The Pantheon was this way for me. I knew what the Parthenon in Athens was, but the Pantheon was vague and too closely named to have an identity of its own.

It sort of horrifies me now that I was was so naive. But how could I understand how big the pantheon is without being there? All the pictures in the world cannot do it justice. As is true for most of the places I've been.

I have loved my time here with my family. I wish I had more time to blog.

Roma. Orvieto. San Gimgiono. Sienna. Florence. Montecatini. Bologna. Venice. It's been a lovely time. My perspective has changed. I can see the big things a little bit better and not get so clouded by the small ones. But grateful that I am still taking pictures, literally and figuratively.

Ciao, Italia.

Italian Irony

During my second quarter at the University of Utah, I took a class on Ancient Rome. Julius Caesar! Gladiators! The forum and patricians and plebs. It all sounded so exciting when I signed up in December only to find the reality much less so. Even with the aid of a helpful classmate who recorded all the lectures that I missed (which were numerous) (and which honestly I never listened to - it was boring enough being there live; to take notes while listening on my tape recorder might've pushed me over the edge), I did poorly in the class and realized that history just wasn't my thing. (Too bad I didn't realize it again at Virginia Tech when I took 2 semesters of The Civil War from a southern expert on Stonewall Jackson who talked like Elmer Fudd. Heh.)

But, here is the irony. All that information that I was unable to absorb in 1994 I get to experience in 11 days. I will be in Italy. For realz Italy. I'm all a flutter. I have my passport and I've worked my tail off for 5 months to be able to go. It's strange and a little bit scary to leave everything behind. I haven't ever been outside of the United States. I've never flown over an ocean.

On Tuesday it became very real. It was my grocery day. I usually go to the grocery store every two weeks. I haven't ever had to plan for the situation of what to buy my family so they don't starve while I am taking silly photos of myself holding up the Tower of Pisa. I bought a lot of soup. And a Suddenly Salad for Shane because he loves them and I hate them because of the way they smell while they are cooking. The entire grocery store experience left me with a vague stomach ache. I look at all that soup in the pantry and anticipate it still being there when I get home because my boys opted for Little Caesars every night. Not that I can blame them.

I'm excited to spend time with some people I love very much. Some recent drama that I've been involved in makes me nervous. I hope that we are able to leave that all behind. I look forward to the plane rides, the layovers, the long bus rides through the countryside. If Italy is half as pretty as it is in the pictures I've pinned on Pinterest, I'm in for quite an experience. I can't wait for the adventures I'm going to have and the places I'll see and the memories I'll make.

It feels so strange to be posting this. I don't live a fabulous life. I tell people about this trip and then I say, "But you don't understand. THIS is my life, not jetting off to Europe. Not me." But I realize from the outside looking in, it does look that way.

Gulp. 10 days and counting.