The men flirt relentlessly.
One walks a little slower
Hips swing a little wider
Wet cobblestones are as slick as frozen sidewalks
The food is simply delicious
Scooters, motorcycles and cars compete for the road Spaghetti with clams is everything it should be
Somehow the rain at night seemed the most romantic weather ever
I felt at home.
Last night’s run took me along a route I don’t often get to experience on foot. I had plans to meet a friend down at Nine-Pin for Fin’s pop up, (and knew that stretching my legs before my upcoming flight would be beneficial), so I decided a downhill run to the Warehouse District would check all the boxes. The weather, while damp, was refreshingly mild when I set off and my route to Broadway evolved as I made my way to the reward of a ginger cider and lobster mac and cheese.
I took State Street down to Washington Avenue, admiring the architecture and feeling appreciative to live in a city that is filled with beautiful buildings and parks. My mood was good and my body felt strong. I was happy until I noticed the flags flying at half-mast on numerous buildings. I mentally paused to consider what the occasion might be for the flags to have been lowered, quickly concluding that it must be an acknowledgement of the latest school massacre. I wonder whose job that is, to raise and lower flags each time American students are murdered in their classrooms. I expect that their arms must be pretty damn tired.
This morning, as I got ready to leave my house for work, the list of names of the most recent victims were read on the radio and I was compelled to stop what I was doing to listen. Their ages gutted me – many were just 14 or 15 years old. What was your biggest worry when you were that age? Zits? Making your school’s sports team or landing a role in the spring musical? Maybe an upcoming test or project? I think it’s safe to say it wasn’t concern over whether a classmate armed with a semi-automatic weapon would be shooting up your school that day.
Why are our elected officials ok with students being murdered while at school? I mean, they must find it acceptable, right? They continue to accept money from gun proponents and refuse to consider legislation that might prevent these sort of things from happening again and again and again. Doesn’t that make them complicit? I’ll answer that myself – Yes, our government is responsible for creating a situation in which civilians can purchase and possess firearms which can be used to perpetrate crimes like what we’ve witnessed time and time again in our country. They should held accountable in every way possible – sue them, vote them out, spread the word about how people like Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz are beholden to the NRA.
Our children are not replaceable but every single one of these f*ckers who choose dollars over public safety are disposable. Let’s stop memorializing teenagers with stars and stripes and start ensuring that children who go to school in the morning return home in the afternoon on a bus and not in a body bag.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so prepared for a trip before. I’ve been basically packed and ready for almost a week already and I’m actually looking forward to Penn Station because it gets me more near to Newark Airport which makes me that much closer to Rome…
Since time seems to moving at a pace which will surely be acceptable when I’m in Rome, but which I find to be excruciatingly slow while waiting for that to happen, I’ve spent the weekend watching films that are set in Rome. First up was the biggest disappointment – The Da Vinci Code. Truth be told, I saw this movie years ago and I was being way too optimistic to believe that focusing on the scenes set in Rome would be enough to salvage what is essentially a terribly cast adaptation of a book I enjoyed. Lesson learned. Next.
A Special Day, a Carlo Ponti film starring Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni rocked my world with its incredible performances, camera angles and emotion. The Roman background was overshadowed by the wrenching story told, but I am so glad this movie came into my life. The scene on the rooftop with the laundry left me breathless. Thank you, Google search, for such a great find.
The final movie, Eat, Pray, Love was also a repeat for me, yet unlike Da Vinci Code this one did actually offer more for me the second time around. Somehow I had completely forgotten all of the preliminary action which occurred prior to Elizabeth Gilbert’s arrival in Rome, but that’s one of the funny things about revisiting a book or movie, isn’t it? What you take away is directly related to what you bring and that changes as life changes. What most excited me last night while watching this movie was the sense of injesting Rome – the pasta, the gelato, the scenery, the people, the language… I’m hungry and ready.
Many of the books I read are written for young adults. These include lots of realistic fiction, some fantasy and adventure titles, as well as the occasional nonfiction title. A new box of books arrived the other day in my library – something which still excites even after more than two decades on the job, and I helped myself to a couple of new titles, including The 57 Bus a nonfiction book by Dashka Slater.
You know when you’re reading a book and you find yourself thinking and even talking about it? Well, this is that kind of book. Slater deftly tells the story of two very different teenagers who ride the same city bus for a life changing 8 minutes. She tells the story in brief chapters, a technique I found very effective and one that helps makes the facts related more easily digested. One afternoon on the bus an event occurs during that shared ride which impacts both of their lives, an event which began as a simple prank yet grew to become an incident defined by some as a hate crime.
Oakland, California is a diverse city of 400,000 residents with a wide range of economic levels represented. It has, at times, been cited as the most violent city in America with gangs and guns present in many neighborhoods of the city’s nearly 80 square miles. Oakland was the home of both Sasha and Richard.
Sasha, a teenager who identifies as agender and has been diagnosed with Asperger’s, is an intelligent young person with a supportive family and a solid group of friends They (the pronoun they use for themself) attend an alternative high school, wear garments that are typical for both males and females, and are committed to living a life which feels reflective on the exterior of what they are experiencing on the inside.
Richard is a black teenager being raised by his young mom and stepfather in a stable family in a struggling neighborhood. Although he gets into some legal trouble as a juvenile, he is essentially a typical, unmotivated high school boy in an urban school district. The reckless act Richard commits against Sasha is unspeakably horrific, yet not premeditated or truly intended and he in many ways ends up just as scarred as they do.
Reading about the encounter between Sasha and Richard left me breathless and with an aching heart. This is a powerful story that will stay with readers. Read this.
Make Dutch Babies for breakfast – and extra coffee
Sort through neglected clothing with the goal of weeding some of it out permanently
“Practice pack” to determine if carry on only is feasible
Do a load of laundry
Ski with Jeter
Finish collecting the documents necessary for my taxes
Watch The DaVinci Code with Quinn to see the Roman landmarks
Love and live fully
- Everyone should have footwear that makes them feel like a rockstar.
- And friends who remind them how special they are.
- Seeing my children express their interests is the best part of parenting for me.
- My excitement for travel remains undiminished.
- February 2018 is the month in which one of my sons becomes an “adult” and the other becomes a teen. In theory at least.
- Packing for a trip challenges me in a way that I enjoy. The measure of success for me is wearing every thing I’ve packed.
- I believe there’s little in life that can’t be improved by fresh air, exercise and water.
- Fresh flowers in my house are an indulgence that I never imagined being able to afford. PS most of my bouquets come from the grocery store or my own garden.
- The days are getting longer, a fact which makes both cross-country skiers and folks who don’t like winter happy.
- I try to avoid scheduling much on Sundays, but don’t truly relax until the sheets are changed and the papers are read.
- In my retirement I want to explore yeast and dough. I love the smell, the magic and the kneading. Until then, it’s quickbreads and whisking.
- Long runs are Sunday are never the same but always appreciated.
Filed under aging, Albany, beauty, DelSo, Europe, Exercise, family, Fashion, Flowers, friends, Italy, musings, Observations, Random, running, sunday, travel
Despite Monday feeling colder than the thermometer claimed, after school I grabbed Jeter and headed to the golf course for a walk. It is my goal, you know, to give him the best life a dog has ever known and he needed the exercise. We were greeted by a small herd of dogs, with labradors already well represented, and devoted a few minutes to playtime before heading to one of our favorite wooded trails.
As we walked, I was aware of soreness in my legs from the 15K I had run the previous day. My quads particularly felt tight and I was glad I had made the effort to get out and give them a stretch. My hands, warm in cozy gloves, also felt tight. I’ve really been struggling with jar lids, jewelry clasps and tasks which require dexterity and it’s making me kind of nervous. Unlike my legs which only talk to me after a long or aggressive run, the pain in my hands is unpredictable. Some days I struggle to fasten buttons or Jeter’s leash, while other days I have almost no issues. Sometimes, though, I accidentally bang my hand and the discomfort (see how I try to avoid saying “pain?”) takes my breath away. It’s on the list of topics to discuss at my upcoming physical.
What do you do when your body begins complaining about your actions? Do you work harder to keep things moving? Modify your activities? Address the objections with a pill or two? Maybe you use some magical combination of all of the preceding to muscle through? What are the options when slowing down isn’t a choice?