30 Days in Italy – (but first prune the apple tree)

A burst of energy happens the morning of a big trip. There I am rushing to have an extra key made for our mailbox, because I’m certain my adult kids will lose mine checking the mail in our absence. I’m slurping a cold latte while buying mini toothpastes and tiny deodorants at the drugstore, then back home pruning our apples trees – chopped branches falling into the snow. Crazy I know, but the jobs been on my pre-trip to-do list forever, and our return will be past the date that pruning is advised if I want to come home to dreamy blossoms.

Such a scattered race of activity. Finally its checklist time – passport? Check. Phone? Check. Charger? Check. Wallet? Check. Sunglasses? Check. Italian phrase book? Si. Prego.
It’s a smooth ride to the airport, and then the heart pounding check-in of our fearfully heavy suitcases, wishing again I was one of those smug people on Instagram packing six perfect nonwrinkling mix and match pieces, instead of my mismatched jumbled assortment of must-have travel outfits. My heart stills and the suitcases roll out of sight with the AirTags inside. At least I can be smug about the AirTags.

We make it through the claustrophobic human shutes onto the plane. Sort out our crosswords, iPads, chocolate peanuts, lip balm, sweater, embroidery project and books – all of which I’ll ignore for the eight hour flight while I’ll doze through two bad movies and delete photos from the last ten years from my phone.
Goodbye Snow. Goodbye this ordinary life. Off we fly, my husband and I, for 30 days in Italy. Let’s see if I can keep this travel tale going – I’ll write you more from Rome. Ciao