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Looking forward, looking back, and other kinds of deception

I like the sound it makes, to say it this way: "I sprained my ankle rather spectacularly, last week."  (Especially when itís a parenthetical to some other, more important clause in the sentence.)  I like the Two-Euro-Ninety-Centesimi cane that Andrew got me from the Chinese store across Via Aurelia.  It does not have a dragon-head, which is what I really wanted (and which would have gone a long way towards making me feel better about all this hobbling about), but there does seem to be some kind of animalesque head-carving happening.  I had suspected canes would be fun.  I was right.

This week we re-arranged my writing room.  Well, alright.  I rearranged my writing room, despite grumblings from Andrewís direction about how lame people should not be trying to move furniture at nine oíclock on a Friday night.  Whatever, it was only Ikea furniture.

The first batch of limoncello has come out rather strong.  Maybe it has something to do with our alcohol-to-water ratios that Saturday afternoon (alright Carlotta, more like MY alcohol-to-water ratios): slightly-on-the-fly and slightly falanghina-fuzzy.  Ah well.  Itís not that it isnít awesome...

Next week I get to see my first Italian ortopedico ever.  He comes to Santa Marinella twice a month.  From Arezzo.  Of course.  You know why THATíS exciting to me.  Please god, let him have a Tuscan accent.  And if he does, let him say we have to do LOTS of physio.

Yesterday I celebrated with a coneful of gelato di cocco and fragola.  I know the cocco was right.  I am mostly sure about the fragola.  I walked home with it, in puddles of Santa Marinella sunlight.  I tried to imagine walking along the Arno with a cone like that.  Ten years ago to the day.


[nightingaleshiraz] [?]
[Via Giulio Cesare, Santa Marinella]
[domenica 28 aprile 2013 ore 12:42:08] []