Notes to a Nomad

 In February of 2000 something or other (it was in the early aughts) I flew to Italy to visit Cindy and Giovanni. At the time, they were living in San Casciano dei Bagni, a magical little town (with castle!) in Southern Tuscany.

While I was gone The Amazing Bob wrote to me.
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Last night at around 6:40 PM I heard a large jet somewhere in the cloud filled evening sky and decided you were on that plane and it was taking you to Italy. I looked up and thought, Fly well and return.

This morning Jen took me grocery shopping. We had a nice time and stopped at Ginger Betty’s bakery on Sea Street. They don’t make bread there but there are so many tempting pastries! I got a lemon square for each of us and she got M&M cookies for her and Oni. The square was wonderful.

  An aside:  I’ll stop there, today maybe, and have a lemon square in my beloved’s memory.

It’s nearly 1:30 now and there’s a ship out there in the opaque fog blowing it’s foghorn every so often. Since it hasn’t gotten noticeably louder or softer in the last twenty minutes, it must be moving very slowly. It sounds one long tone, followed by two shorter blasts, which must mean something in the language of foghorns.

Your father called around noontime. He mentioned that a relative (for whom he seemed to have little affection) had died at around 90 years of age. I couldn’t make out the name and he went on and on, as garrulous as ever. His shoulder is feeling better these days and he says he’ll call you (I had hearing back then) because he’s always wanted to make a phone call to Tuscany.

Ah, there’s a second voice from the fog now. It's using the same long-short-short pattern as the first but this one is much farther away. Perhaps it’s mating season and they’re trying to attract one another. Who knows?

OK, you’ve been gone for 24 hours. I’m ready for you to come back now. I got my one good night’s sleep in the bed; I’m good for another six months now.
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The surprises you get when you start shacking up – I snore. I had no idea! Jen, who shares a room with me when we travel, says I’m it’s not loud at all – more of a snuffling sound. It was, however, forte enough to wake my poor TAB.

Yes, this was always, and continues to be, a source of guilt. That being one of my “superpowers,” don'cha know.