Thursday, 20 September 2018

23 Days in Italy: Packed and Ready to Go

I have a new mantra for travel packing, my friends: pack to please myself. Period. That sounds so obvious, doesn't it? But since last week when I decided on my wardrobe plan for this trip, I've been waffling. Suffering from middle of the night second guessing precipitated by way too much time on Pinterest, and way too many of those bossy blog posts of the "how to pack" variety. Still, despite all this doubt, I've decided to stick to my original colour palette of black and white basics. For twenty-three days in Italy, I'm packing only outfits that are comfortable, reasonably polished, and in which I feel well and truly myself.

three shots of women in black sweater, sneakers, jeans and black cross-body bag
Black and black and blue. Not exciting, but comfortable and covered.

Sunday, 16 September 2018

Much Ado About Very Little

It's the calm before the storm around here at the moment. Hubby and I are treading water, not quite twiddling our thumbs, finishing up tasks on our list that need to be done before we leave for Italy, and generally trying NOT to get too excited too soon. 

I shopped last week. I found a great new travel purse, and a black Madewell tee that will round out my warm weather travel choices. I may have purchased a gorgeous pair of burgundy Paul Green loafers for fall. But you'll have to wait until we return from Italy to hear about those. I'm thinking they will lessen the post trip let down, when I know I'll be thinking, "Manotick is lovely, but it ain't Rome." Nothing like planning a new outfit to lift one's spirits, eh? 

This week, I'll be finalizing my packing lists, and then, well, packing. And trying to maintain my equanimity. I've been listening to books on my Audible ap on my phone. If outfit planning can lift one's spirits, there's nothing like a little gentle reading, or listening, to calm them. 

cover of the illustrated version of Pride and Prejudice

Tuesday, 11 September 2018

Planning My Travel Wardrobe for Italy

Our three weeks in Italy are coming up very soon. So, obviously I've been musing about my travel wardrobe. That's nothing new. What should I wear? And, how should I decide what to wear? These are perennial questions for me.


woman in white jeans, black jacket, black loafers, and scarf sitting on a deck
Still musing about what to pack for three weeks in Italy

Friday, 7 September 2018

On Being a Tourist

Hubby and I are off to Italy before too long. Our plans were mostly completed months ago. Right now we're refreshing our memories, reviewing all the arrangements we made way last spring. Reconfirming accommodation reservations that probably don't need re-confirming, but we'll do it anyway just for peace of mind. I'm researching details of what we might do with our days in Venice and Florence and Rome. Hubby is re-acquainting himself with the driving routes we'll take after we leave Florence, how we plan to get from one small place to another, what interesting roads we'll attempt. I have a rough plan for how I'll proceed with my jobs. Research. Shop. Pack. Go. 

And bubbling underneath all our suppressed excitement. While we're busying ourselves with everything that needs to be done, checking items off our list so all will be ready in a timely fashion, but not ready too early, which will only cause anxiety for both of us. Underneath all this and mostly unspoken is our desire to be on our way. To be tourists again.   

man and woman eating chocolate covered ice cream
Our chocolate-dipped-vanilla-ice-cream-face selfie.  Île d'Orleans, Quebec, 2014.

Sunday, 2 September 2018

Summer's Last Gasp

It's the last weekend of summer. The autumn of summer, we might say. Soon we'll be saying, "Ah yes, remember last summer? Those white hot days at the beach, the languid afternoons, the warm, starry evenings of wine and song? Ha. As if.

Red barn with white trim and the shadow of clothes on a clothesline
photo courtesy of Aethne Hinchcliffe
More like... remember the searing, jabbing pain of that freaking shingles virus, the fog of pain meds, the creeping boredom of yet another day of enforced reading and reading and nothing else, except more moaning and cold compresses?