Reminded today of me and Dorota sitting on a jet heading for Roma, her stating that now would be a good time for the two of us to crack open our Learn Italian books.
I think we picked up a precious few other words in Roma for steering us in the correct direction for restaurants, sights, sites, and what YT came to call The Embassy, the Brit pub where we would confer with those who lived in Roma for a long time and who shared (somewhat) our language.
And when-o-when shall YT be Euro-bound next. Now there is a primo question.
After seeing La Vie En Rose wished for a nice walk through Paris, full of gorgeousness in the floral sphere in summer although way too full of travelers.
Lisa Forrest sent an mp3 of a new song she wrote and it sounded radio-ready and told her so. It was a poetic little domestic number. A love song of sorts.
Have been listening to a lot of Polly Jean and Patti these past few days, something that suits über-concentration in wondrous, affirming work frenzy.
Went to a garden store today after a work delivery, bought more plants and seeds, touching dozens of leaves to say hello to the Green World.
There is nothing quite the same as having perennials in the great outdoors that were chosen from an intoxicating seed display that creaks and groans as it turns laboriously from enthusiastic hand.

Enthused, handy Love.