Six hours

I’ve been in Italy since the end of January, and the past four-ish months have been the longest I’ve ever been away from home. Like really away from home. I’m a Bostonian through-and-through, with spares of spares Red Sox caps, a mother who asks me to “get the paster out of the cah,” and a home video…

Americana

I have won Laundry Gate. I am ready to grace my pedestal and accept my gold detergent trophy, parade around in my gleaming garments, and have people throw dryer sheets on the stage in applause as I am adorned with a billowing, Downy-soft towel-cape of champions. Maybe it was my routine visits to the porter with…

For the love of it

During my first week in Naples, it rained. Desperate to get out in the city before work started, I sloshed my way from Villa Comunale in Chiaia to the Feltrinelli, and sought refuge in the internationally understood awkward silence that accompanies book stores. Except this was Naples after all, so of course there were a handful of…

It’s not you, it’s Naples

I should have started this blog a month ago. But when I look back to a month ago, my heart was aching. I was hugging my sides, missing the embrace of a city that I had called home for almost four months. For me, Padova was a charmingly simple town that felt like Boston in an…