It’s Canada Day. Canada celebrates the anniversary of July 1, 1867 when the Province of Canada, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick created a single Dominion within the British Empire called Canada. Today, I’m missing my home and native land.
Probably a little bit of both!
At the restaurant last night, they wouldn’t allow us to hold a menu. We had to read it taped to the window, but they were fine with handing us a wine list and serving us directly without gloves.
Speculation that is whirling in the psyches of the population causing a frenzy of anxiety is because of extreme media coverage in my mind.
About 20 years ago I was in an elevator going down to the lobby in the Four Seasons Hotel in Vancouver. It stopped on a floor and in walked Al Pacino. His hair was sticking out all over the place. He looked like a mad professor. I’m certain he hadn’t brushed it.
Seconds later…
I recently heard an interview with Jane Fonda on YouTube. When she turned 60, she referred to this time of life as her 3rd Act. Her words resonated with me. During the end of my 2nd act, menopause brought a lot of change. I’ve been recreating myself by answering some big questions. When my 3rd Act started last Autumn, I felt prepared to venture into unchartered territory.
Time flies; it’s been a couple of months since I’ve blogged. We did a lot of traveling last Autumn to celebrate my 60th and it took me a while to regain my balance after our last trip. I came home exhausted. Unfortunately, I spent much of our trip bathrooming due to a nasty fish dish from the Arabian Sea outside of Mumbai.
The statue of David at the Academia in Firenze is the nearest thing to perfection that I have ever seen. The fresh pasta dish of Amalfi cooked al dente in olive oil, garlic, sundried tomatoes and warmed through fresh tomatoes did such an exquisite dance on my taste buds that talking became an intrusion. Roma, where every time you turn a corner, there is an architectural delight to behold. The world-famous fashionistas of Milan who have engrained accessorizing in the culture so much so that wearing a t-shirt and jeans, one becomes a fashion plate. Listening to the operatic pop of Il Divo while sipping on a glass of Vino Noble di Montepulciano, the nectar of Tuscany, is bewitching to the senses. I’m on my way to Italy. I love, love, love this country. Even the language is mesmerizing as words roll off the tongue in a poetic waterfall of romance. My favorite Italian phrase is ‘Buona Serra’ because it’s music to my ears.