Trattoria La Casalinga

 
 
 

Business lunch. Florence. Trattoria La Casalinga. Trattoria of the Housewife. We - Chiara and I - make plans to take over the world, or at least Tuscany over lunch. I order pappardelle al ragù di cinghiale. Wild boar. Appropriate for a winter lunch. I can almost hear the wild boar stomping the sunflowers at the bottom of Susan’s hill near Sienna. We make a plan and when we order our second round of expresso - the red wine was strong, and I needed something to revive me - we realize we are closing down the restaurant. The waiters are practically mopping under our feet. When we quickly hurry out and go to pay we discover the bill has already been paid. Grazie to my friend’s Italian husband who snuck in to pay the bill.

Yesterday was a cacophony of travel. I left my home in Venice in the morning - missed my train- caught the next, the intent being to arrive Rome by way of Florence last night. Instead, when the day was done, I had to return to Venice, where Fortuny purred loudly in gratitude all night long nuzzled next to my head thankful that I had returned home. There was a mix up on the key, and the cats couldn’t be fed wet food easily without me returning. This morning, when I packed my bag again, Fortuny climbed inside. I’m going with.

Today. Rome by noon. American embassy appointment 1pm. No cats allowed. Then back to Florence for dinner with LeighAnn, a client and a friend, home to Venice in the morning. It’s an unbelievably busy time, but next week Derrick arrives along with Jacob and Joe, and I’ll work as little as possible, but today, as I work on the train with a whole table for 4 before me, I realize how productive I am on trains. They are my favorite way to travel. The scenery out my window. Bologna. Emilia Romagna. Now entering Lazio. Andrea asked me to draw some sketches. I am not an artist, but I play with markers and my imagination. “What’s it say?” asks my stewart on the train. “If you don’t build your own dream, you’ll work for someone else’s dream.” He laughs, “You’re a wise woman Signorina” and he leaves me to my coloring. An email arrives. A message from the universe.

Be still, Toma.
Stop thinking.
Feel.
Visualize.
Take action.
Repeat.
Yours, The Universe


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