In Love with France, At Home In Italy

I'm wondering what it might mean that, of my current 160 posts, the one about Italian toilets has gotten three times as many "hits" as any other. (See   THE ITALIAN TOILET:A CHALLENGE TO YANKEE INGENUITY...         ) And this is even with my having shown just a fraction of my collection of documenting photos. Maybe it's time for some of them to see the light of day, and to offer a comparative study with those of a tiny country located a 7-hour drive from here--one whose facilities, among other attractions, make Slovenia well worth a detour. Never mind my previous pieces about potentially knock-your-block off sloping ceilings (See  WELCOME TO SLOVENIA--A KNOCK-OUT COUNTRY!  ).   Much of the country looks like the happy moments in a fairy tale.  And don't get me started on the fabulous food. This is the view of the Julian Alps from the inn where we stay Winter sunrises can be esp...

I've never been very good with them, but what is it about 63? I know that that's how far three of the men in my family--grandfather father, and brother--and an ex-boyfriend made it. My son was 4 when my father died; I was 36. When my brother died, I was 66. More optimistic numbers: My mom made it to 90 this year. And if I make it until tomorrow, I will be 68, even though, for some reason, I always feel like 16. But that can't be true, since this was the year of my 50th high school reunion. What's more, I have a beautiful granddaughter, now 20 months old, and her soon-to-be-born sister is up to about 32 weeks. Math anxiety, moi? Oui, si, yes, I confess. But there's another way of looking at it, which my artist friend expresses in her wispily elegant calligraphy on the cards and beautiful paintings she makes: "Teach us to number our days, That we may get us A heart of wisdom." Impatient ...

The opening measures of the second movement of Schubert's string quintet (from  IMSLP ) Right now on this December day when I would ordinarily be panicked about the many details of my imminent departure, I'm sitting out under the pergola peeling apples to the accompaniment of this soothing piece. I am reminded that I wrote about the Schubert piece earlier in the year in response to a wonderful article I had stumbled upon in "Aeon," a publication I had never heard of: "MUSIC AND RITUAL Why we love repetition in music" by Elizabeth Hellmuth Margulis http://aeon.co/magazine/culture/why-we-love-repetition-in-music/ The subtitle was irresistible: "One more time Why do we listen to our favourite music over and over again? Because repeated sounds work magic in our brains" One reader offered a thoughtful comment: This is a fascinating topic that goes beyond music...I know one psychologist described y...