We are getting so excited about our trip to Italy.

 

We got a wonderful email from our lawyer this morning that he has taken care of connecting the utilities. We will visit Florence to see him, his wife, and their new baby, Sara. He has the keys to the house. He has to be our first stop.

 

The former owner’s daughter and her Italian boyfriend live next door and so are our new neighbors. We spoke with them this weekend and they described the villages in the valley that they want us to see. I got excited just listening to the details of each village.

 

We are flying into Milan and Rusty has browbeat me into staying in Milan for a day or two. I am anxious to see the property, but he says that we need a day or so to get over the jet lag. I say to that, “What jet lag?” I think the panic attacks on the plane should take care of that jet lag just fine.

 

When I am going to fly, I usually start having nightmares. These nightmares usually are:

 

  • the plane crash lands in an ocean; full of sharks
  • the pilot walks off the plane before it takes off; we take off without a pilot
  • the wings fall off the plane in mid-air; the superglue did not hold
  • the flight attendant trips and falls and, on the way down, spills soda onto my laptop; right in the middle of watching reruns of ‘The Beverly Hillbillies”

 

This trip is no different; I have already started having nightmares. However, I must admit that this time I am a bit more excited to get to Italy and less anxious about the plane.

 

This is it. No turning back now. Italy here I come.

 

“Home, Sweet Home.”  I mean, “Casa, Dolce Casa.”

 

Note: If possible, I will be adding to the blog from Italy. If not, I shall announce our return when we get back.

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