Dreams from Biancavilla

During Graziella’s house call to Ettore yesterday, I was pretty sure she seconded my opinion that sugar isn’t always bad—especially for a sick toddler. How many of us grew up drinking 7-Up or Ginger Ale when we were sick? Today, Elena confirmed that I understood her correctly. I’ve been at a loss as to how I might help. My Nurse Mom practices are a far cry from what’s usually done here.  After holding and rocking baby Matteo through this morning’s chaos, which included Ettore not eating or drinking, I offered to go in search of popsicles. They were not at CRAI, or at the frozen treat bin at the tabaccherie en route, so I continued on down to—you guessed it—Decò. Along the way, one of the cart vendors had their loudspeaker going. I’ve been trying to get a video clip of this daily occurrence, but they either round out of sight or, as today, they stop for someone just as I have my video setting ready. Future goals, I guess. Walking down Viale dei Fiori, I noticed three “Polizia Locale” sp

  I’m sitting in my own little parlor while they finish readying my room. I love getting spoiled here. I arrived pretty refreshed. My new best friends, Marty and Shelly (a RN), sat next to me on the plane. They’re from the Boston area, love going to Italy, have rescue dogs, and gifted me some Ambien after I told them prosecco was on board (and opened their splits for them). That was a great after-dinner combo. I popped one, and next thing I knew, we were touching ground. That was a much faster flight than MSP>JFK! I need this for every long flight. Now I just need my room ready. After I get there, I’m freshening up and taking a walk. The Rome weather is gorgeous! I want to scout out two places for dinner, which my body clock may call breakfast. One is right on the Tiber, on the island; the other is in the Sburra. But there’s a definite British Invasion—I’m still waiting on my room. I’m sick of all the waiting these past 24 hours. The walk revived me and reminded me why I love it her