Preparations

A week from today D and I will arrive in Florence and right about now will be enjoying our first evening in the city. Who knows how jet lagged and travel weary we will be; I only know that the trip is becoming a reality in front of my eyes. That's good. Laura is excited to greet us and launch us on what will be a very wonderful ten days in Renaissance Town. We've been reading tour books and studying maps. Denny has re-read The Agony and the Ecstasy for the ump-teenth time and I'm halfway through (I plod through tomes like this). Brunelleschi's Dome and The Monster of Florence as well as Art and Architecture of Florence sit on our family room table. We're preparing.

Today I woke up early, trying to take the advice of someone who said that getting up a few hours early and going to bed a few hours early at night helps with the time change. We'll see. D, of course, will not change anything about his sleep/wake cycles and remind me that all this kind of stuff is mystical b.s., especially when I'm wiped out from the time zones and he's raring to go. Oh well.

Yesterday I walked around Green Lake to break in my walking shoes; a glorious 2.8 mile circuit on a crisp fall day. Here's what it looked like out there on the loop. There were lots of people out but you'd never know it from this picture of an empty trail, one of those rare moments at Green Lake where it's just you and the path ahead. Within seconds of this shot, people walked into view. Happy to report that my new shoes are great (and nice looking too). I have a pair in black and in brown so as my dearest daughter says, "Choices, Mom, choices."

Things on the home front with Dad are about as prepared as we can get. He has rallied somewhat, he knows we are leaving for ten days, and he is happy for us. I've done some major work (in progress of course) on myself to disentangle enough from the daily grit of overseeing his care (not as a doctor but as a daughter-doctor). There are good people who will pick up the baton, be the eyes and ears, and take action when appropriate. Making big changes and then leaving town before I get sucked back into the fray provides a healthy transition for me.

So now it's on to packing the suitcases. The hardest part is the cat who watches the bags come out of the closet and knows that we're going to leave him. He'll also be in good hands though. Chris will be here to house sit. Thank you, Chris. No wild and raucous parties while we are in Italy, OK? Just kidding.

Yes, I'm excited. I'm so excited that I'm not particularly scared to fly. Now that's something to be proud of too. Flying is not my thing but it sure beats any other way of getting to Florence, by a long shot. Let those jet engines rev up and those wheels start to roll down the runway.