The weather, the food, the wine, amore!

Y'all, I slept for twelve hours last night. TWELVE! You think I needed it?! My parents, sister and I are sharing an apartment on the Oltrarno, across the Ponte Vecchio from the city center of Florence. Our balcony looks out over the Arno to the Duomo, the Palazzo Vecchio and the chapel dome of San Lorenzo. The church bells are pealing right now, and we are all donning make-up, our finery and taking in the last moments of Elia before she becomes a wife.It is a happy, beautiful day, and I know also quite bittersweet for my parents. Lest you think we've not all been indulging in the incredible Italian food and wine, let me tell you that we have. Most enthusiastically! Guarda:

Well, the macarons are from Zurich, thanks to friends who've come in from Dubai.

A Firenze

I am here and the bride is beautiful! Ah, my little sis!

The gal who sat next to me

Although the young woman (she seems college-age) was easy to ride by, I did wonder if she'd been raised by feral animals. She ate her nails as if she were a beaver at a tree, gnawing aggressively and constantly, and the end result was not pretty. Her digits resembled stubby pencil nubs, and the associated sounds were disgusting. At one point, she spit a severed nail bit out towards the window with an audible pthu; at that point I nearly lost it. However, dinner then arrived and things devolved a bit more. Not often have I heard such loud, smacky chewing. How the food even stayed inside her gaping chomp hole continues to baffle me.

And then there was the constant hair pulling, stroking, picking and plucking. That thin, ropey strand was worked as if her fingers were a dancer doing a real number on a pole. It was too much, people!

Then there was the visual I was gifted with every time she leaned over- it was enough to make my don my eye mask. This gal was wearing low-rise spandex leggings (these definitely fell into T's inappropriate spandex wearing category) and a shirt that was failing in its job if covering the back forty was the assignment.

And lastly, while I have flown with kids many times and totally understand that at times, it doesn't go well despite best efforts, the flight to Frankfurt did feel like being strapped in a giant, unhappy playpen. Whoa, at least I got tons of reading done!

Giant latte, giant latte... I'm on the prowl!