Would You Believe I've Been Married to This Man for 40 Years!

Let’s face it: It never should have lasted. We decided to get married after a week; we got officially engaged after a month; and we were married just six weeks later.
Who knows what we were thinking.

After 40 years, I still can't figure it out. Maybe that's the secret.

Quote of the Day

From Gail Collins' op ed piece in today's NYT:

". . .perhaps it is time to rethink the idea of constantly electing middle-aged heterosexual men to positions of high importance."

Read the whole column here.

Good News...at least for now

The sun is out. And so is he!

Maine

I am trying not to panic but the vibe I am getting here in Maine is not a good one. Dark skies, stormy clouds, a constant drizzle--could this be a repeat of the summer of '08 when the sun didn't come out for good until mid August.

The dock is almost under water; our basement is a pond; the mosquitoes are fearsome and ants have taken over the kitchen. Oh well...we've managed a few games of PT i.e. pathetic tennis and I've been able to do a few long runs between monsoons.

I guess we left summer in Tuscany.

Stupid Questions

Got a mani-pedi yesterday. Not an unusual or noteworthy occurrence but it did get me wondering. Why are there so many cheap nail salons now? It seems there's at least one on every block or two in center city--all staffed by diminutive and impossibly young looking Asisan women who spend long hours hunched over strange hands and feet and doing god only knows what damage to their lungs from inhaling toxic fumes all day.

I bet if I went to a different salon every summer I still couldn't visit every location in center city from river to river. They are more ubiquitous than the rash of drug stores that have opened in recent years.

Who owns all these places? Is there some slightly sinister Mr. or Mrs. Big of the nail salon world who controls it all and is reaping huge profits by exploiting our vanity and paying these girls peanuts. Where is our money going exactly?

Trust Women

I can't stop thinking about the horrible murder of Dr. Tiller, the doctor in Wichita, Kansas, whose clinic provided services to women who needed a late term abortion. I went to a vigil/demonstration in center city right after he died. There were lots of women my age there and also lots of young women. I felt good about that. By and large, the older women were sad and weary. How many marches and demonstrations have we've gone on and how many more do we have to attend to make a difference.

In contrast, the younger women were angry and not afraid to show it. At first when I saw their slogan, "Abortion on demand and without apology!" I thought, uh oh wrong message for the public and the TV cameras. Better to be calm, be rational, talk about access, talk about choice, talk about women's health. But later I thought what's the point of being rational to irrational to people who are willing to kill, to murder to assassinate others who don't believe as they do.

What's even worse, their terrorist tactics have worked. Dr. Tiller is dead; his clinic permanently shuttered; doctors successfully discouraged from performing life-saving procedures; women in deadly danger and denied the necessary care.

That night I watched a TV commercial for Viagra or Cialis--basically an expensively and expertly produced presentation promising sex on demand and without apology to men. Need I say more.

Eat Your Heart Out!

To see a slideshow of our month in Tuscany, click here.

WARNING: These photos are best viewed while drinking a glass of prosecco and nibbling on pecorino cheese. Accept no substitutes!

Home

After two days in dirty, crowded, but always so fabulous Rome, I am back in Philly doing laundry and catching up on the real world. I'm not complaining though. Philadelphia truly looks it best in the spring when everything is so green.

I'm already preparing my to-do list for next May in Tuscany: Must take more walks; must visit Siena and all the other places I never got to; must eat less...without insulting Marcella, of course; must go on a picnic; must learn better Italian; must continue to beat Steve in bocce, etc.