I have been doing some arm chair traveling and have gone back to reading the sweet little crime books by Donna Leon  Do you know her?  She writes the most beautiful sentences.  Especially turns of phrase by our leading character, Dottore Guido Brunetti.  

I have been listening to Italian opera and pretending I was in La Fenice. I have been studying a bit of Italian. I made insalata caprese with tomatoes and basil from the garden. I read Death in Venice.

I was lucky enough to visit Venice twice.  I think it may be my favorite city.  Florence was “too much.”  I could never get it all.  But Venice, given a bit of time, I think I could own! 
I have a huge map of Venice spread out and am following Commissaro Brunetti all over town.

The first time I went, I was at the mercy of the traveling companion from hell. He hated Italians, it turned out. I always say, if you don’t want things to be different, do not go different places.

I loved everything about Venice. On that first trip, I stayed in a pensione. Seguso, overlooking the Canale della Guidecca. Not far from the Accademia. The bath tub was across the hall. I think I was the only one in that entire establishment who didn’t want to take showers, so I had it all to myself. I usually got back to the room just in time to take a long, hot bath before dinner. I opened the big window at the foot (head?) of the tub so I could look out over the roofs and hear the bells all signaling that it was 6 p.m. The pipes are bigger there and the water pressure intense. Took that huge tub about 90 seconds to fill up. The towels are different too. Not terry. huge. Waffled cotton.

The second time I went, I was free to do as I pleased. The first day back, there was a planned, anticipated transportation strike. Very Italian. it was scheduled to end at a certain time. Gondoliers just relaxed until that moment.

In the meantime, I walked everywhere.

I took lots of pictures of the beautiful cisterns.

I went to the Accademia and sat for hours in front of my favorite Titian: Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple.

Had these Venetian S-shaped cookies for lunch. Actually, I think they’re from Burano. They’re called bussola. I never forget a cookie. I think I’ll bake some in a bit. You can find recipes for anything in an instant these days.

Afterwards, I went looking to buy a little photo album and came upon a shop where a man was printing the papers and making beautiful albums all by hand.

I bought this one and he autographed it.

Glad I hadn’t spend all my money on lunch that day.

Next day, I finally made it to Murano after being denied that wish on my first trip. Spent the entire day there looking at all the beautiful glass. I wish I had taken a picture of a boat there in the canal loaded with a roll of bubble wrap about the size of a round bale of hay. The merchants there will ship anything you buy home for you, anywhere in the world. Gotta have a lot of bubble wrap.

I bought this whimsy and carried it home in my bag:

Given unlimited funds, I would have bought a chandelier for the dining room.

And given unlimited time, this post would go on forever. Now, I want to get back to reading about Commissario Brunetti. I have him pictured in my mind as drop-dead gorgeous.

In closing, this is what I posted on the end page of my hand-made Venetian album:

We hire the president and not his spouse, but we do seem to have certain expectations of them since we provide them with room and board and protection. And most spouses in recent history have had professions of their own which they set aside during their FLOTUS tenure. Mrs Reagan was in movies. Mrs. Bush was librarian. Mrs. Obama is a lawyer. Mrs Trump was a model.

Back in the 20th century, Eleanor Roosevelt was the first one to bravely enter the public eye as an activist in her own right. She championed many worthy causes. She is a true heroine of mine. She knew she was frumpy but did not let that hold her back.

Bess and Mamie were frumpy too. Bess stayed home in Missouri as much as she could.

Then we got Mrs. Kennedy. After that, FLOTUS pretty much had to be photogenic and had to have a “cause” of her own. We didn’t hire her but we certainly do have expectations of service regardless of what her previous profession might have been.

Be Best.

I was on a cancelling tear this morning.

I will never again subscribe to the NY Times on line because of the nightmare it is to unsubscribe. They really make it hard for you to cut them off. Finally offered me one year for $1.oo a week. By that time I had been transferred to four different “advocates.” If they’d said “free” I would have refused.

Presently reading the Washington Post and the Christian Science Monitor. I think that’ll do me for now.

Also cancelled BritBox and Acorn TV. They hadn’t offered anything I wanted to watch in weeks.

I think that’s it for today. Let’s hope I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow.

Fire.

Apparently Big Basin State Park is gone. I remember taking the girls to camp in Memorial Park just north of there. I know my affinity for coast redwoods is abnormal. I can’t help myself. I grew up in southern Oklahoma where scrubby trees were stunted by drought and worthless soil. I didn’t know about beautiful forests until I moved to California when I was 23 years old.

For a while in CA, I had a house in a redwood grove. When I was forced to move from there, I went out and spoke to each one of my trees. When I moved to Oregon, I planted a grove of my own. If you rub the foliage in your hands, it smells like limes.

Kate has a house now in a forest on the Russian River. Fires everywhere. Her entire neighborhood has been evacuated. Luckily, during the work week the lives in her house in Sausalito. She won’t be going to the river this weekend. Elizabeth says today, doing her work in Yellowstone, she cannot see the mountains because of the smoke from CA.

I remember during the last CA fires, POTUS said, “Those people should just keep things raked up out there? This is what redwood duff looks like:

The forest floors are dense with it. Sure. Just rake up the thousands of acres of that and put it where? I live in terror of the solutions that man poses.

I need to get this off my chest before heading our for the gym.

The last night of the Democratic convention.

And here’s the truth:

Julia Louis-Dreyfus and the Curry family were embarrassing.

Loved the boy with the stutter.

Dear, sweet, Joe Biden spoke like he was running for Grandpa and not for president.

I like him so much. I admire his family so much. I admire his working-class background. I admire his wife. I admire the work he has done for my country all of his career.

I think he is decent. He practices his faith. He tells the truth.

I am dreading the debates. I hope he pauses every time after Trump speaks and says, “Wow. I am not here to be rude or insulting. I am here to answer the question I have been asked.”

I am really looking forward to the VEEP debates. Will “Mother” allow Mikey to be alone on the stage with a woman? Does anyone know what “Mother’s” first name is?

To be continued.