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Where to begin…

June 10, 2011

When so much has happened, it is hard to know where to begin. In fact it can be so difficult that it is paralyzing. I guess I am just looking for excuses as to why I have not written anything on this blog since day 3 of my luna miele (honey moon in Italian). So I suppose the best thing to do is to just go back to the start, rush through the details and come back later to add in the details.

As you may know, Jeff and I took the month of May to head to Europe for our honeymoon. We started with a two day layover in Munich, Germany and then headed to the destianation of dreams…Italy. We traveled up and down the center and western side of the country for just over two weeks, seeing countless churches and other various touristy destinations, working at an organic farm in Umbria, and of course eating an ungodly amount of delicious simple food and delightful wine.

Part of my writing paralysis has also been tied into the worst part of our trip…no it was not getting fleeced by the roadside fruit vendor on the Amalfi Coast (I am still bitter about that, especially since I could have told him in Italian to take his crappy fruit and shove it). No, it was not driving around Napoli at 5pm on a Friday night trying to find a parking space, all the while trying not to hit the families of four on scooters (and by that I mean entire families on one scooter)…just so that we could get a piece of pizza. It was not even…damn, I can’t even think about anything else that went wrong…ok, the terrential downpour that we experienced while trying to hit up cantina’s (wine cellars) in Montepulciano. No…the worst part of our trip took place in the trip’s final hours. As we sat down on our second of three flights home, I went to turn my cell phone off and realized that it was gone. It must have fallen out of my purse as I got up from my seat to board the plane. Unfortunately, the phone has yet to be found. Worst yet, it contained all of the pictures from the trip, all 875 of them. And so…I am without photos of each dish that I ate. I am without photos of the town where my great great grandparents met. I am without photos of one of the most influential months of my life.

I have decided try and get over my blockage and just write anyway. I have pilfered some photos from the website of the farm where we worked. Andrea, our new Italian friend in Reggio-Emiglia is going to pass along shots of the Culatello cantina where we ate in Parma and the pasta workshop that his mother gave us. Hopefully, my 23rd cousin, Jennifer will have some of the pics of our Italian ansestrial home from her research trip there many years ago. Life does go on. And hey, when in doubt there is always photoshop!

 

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