In Love with France, At Home In Italy

  A longtime friend who saw the book cover surprised me by asking, “Is that your lucky travel shirt?” How could she not have recognized it? Of course that’s my Magic Flying Shirt, without which I could never go anywhere, since it’s what keeps the plane aloft. Furthermore, there’s no doubt that the shirt has magic powers, since every time I wore it to a job interview, I always got the job. I also wear it to any anxiety-provoking occasion, and it really helps.     So is that the very same lucky shirt? I answered her as follows—   Z, I only have this Magic Shirt thanks to YOU. If you recall, we were together at that Tiffany store in Paris where I had dragged you for some fashion advice. I was going to buy only the matching skirt, and not the top, But you persuaded me that that was ridiculous: “Diane, you need both pieces so you can have an outfit!”    Well, that shirt is now 36 years old, but I already have a secret plan for when it’s too worn out to wear. However, I’m not going to reveal

  M TO DJC: I just SAW the book. Is that you on the cover?  I bet it is because you are so clever. What a shot of the mailbox, you mailing it and the doorway. Beautiful!!   MY REPLY: Yup! That’s me in my magic flying shirt—the one that keeps the planes aloft. Of course I can’t travel without it, so it’s gotta last.    Jim took the photo which required many attempts and different outfits, not to mention the unauthorized use of someone else’s mailbox and also their mail, because we forgot to bring a letter with us.    Fortunately, the door on the mailbox was a little busted, so we could “borrow” their letter and then discreetly put it back. Somehow we managed not to get arrested. 😉 —xxx, d 📬   M REPLIED : That’s hysterical! What did you do, drive around scouting the perfect spots? Stalking people in the countryside? I wonder what the owners would think if they received a copy of your book? Too funny.   DJC BACK TO M: So glad you liked that story. The mailbox itself is located outside a

  OOPS! What technodunce could possibly have pushed the wrong button and sent 78 of her friends an empty message with only the cryptic subject heading, “Today’s view from here: January 2018/SENT IN THREE BATCHES”?   Then this very same person had to send an answer to many perplexed friends most of whom had replied with variations on “Huh? Diane, there was nothing in your email.” So I had to respond with something that went like this—   How right you are! The error was mine. Oops! Well, if anybody wasn’t too sure about my self-proclaimed technoduncehood, we can kiss those doubts goodbye.    I should probably “leave bad enough alone“ (the best advice ever), but I will try to explain. Are you ready?    Oh, dear! Yikes! I must have pushed the wrong button, and have done so to MANY dear people. Thank you for letting me know.   I was trying to consolidate my mailing lists in preparation for letting people know that my Letters to Men of Letters book is finally out. I still have some loose end

  Who has 36,550 photos in her iPhone? I do! Not to mention the 1914 videos. Could this be the very same dinosaur who was dragged kicking and screaming into the computer generation? The one who wouldn’t go near a technological device unless her husband and son were within screaming distance?     Actually, these numbers will not come as a surprise to those who know me as the hoarder that I am. And once I found out, thanks to Reedsy, that I wouldn’t have to choose just one photo for this Author Page but that—wow!—I could have 8–naturally,I had to look through my entire collection to obsess about which ones to choose. Of course there were way too many candidates, but then I realized that my Italian alter-ego, Donatella de Poitiers, the one who writes this blog probably wouldn’t mind if I used the outtakes here. But only if she forgives me for neglecting her during the years it took to publish  Letters to Men of Letters , which had a long gestation period. At some point I could go into gre

    I actually wrote this just for myself this morning while still happily in bed, but I am also going to foist it on friends who have had to listen to all our moaning and groaning about our misadventures while under the illusion we could learn to negotiate the Italian bureaucracy. HA!    Kudos to James for coming up with the first part of this title:  SISYPHUS AIN’T GOT NUTHIN’ ON US. And be thankful that what you’re getting here is the expurgated version of the story. In the interest of fairness to all, the profanity and yelling that might have accompanied this tale are not here, but please feel free to imagine where they would be. Here goes:    I don’t usually think about the literal meaning of “buongiorno,” but it’s already a great day because we don’t have to think about whether we’ll get a message from the Motor Vehicle people about coming to Viterbo to bring yet more documents for our car registration.    Yesterday we even turned in the car we rented for the 11 weeks of this jo

  Donatella’s followers may have been wondering what happened to her. Why is her last blog entry from several years ago? Why did she suddenly appear to disappear?     Well, here’s the scoop. Instea d of keeping Donatella in the spotlight, Donatella’s own alter ego, Diane Joy Charney, has been consumed with writing a book called  Letters to Men of Letters . It incubated for quite a while, and after a bumpy gestation period,  Letters to Men of Letters  has finally emerged.                     Is there room in this blog for Diane and Donatella to  coexist? We’ll see... But first, another only-in-Italy car adventure.