In Love with France, At Home In Italy

 We just arrived in Slovenia, a knockout country whose pitched roofs, while practical for snow, seem designed to give the unsuspecting person who is not a dwarf a loch in kop (that’s Yiddish for “a hole in the head”—something no one needs). On arrival at our cozy B&B, the same one as last year, it took J about five minutes to repeat his feat of bonking himself on the bean. He bent over the bedside table to pick something up, and WHAP!—just like last year.  Our kids have rented an adorable apt that has many similar hazards. It's on the top floor, which means that each of the three rooms has parts that can do serious damage to those who commit the folly of entering the place without a helmet. Somebody put my coat on the bed in the little extra room designed for those under three feet tall. Of course after I bent down to pick it up, the inevitable happened:I womped myself a bit.  Those previous two words are key. To survive here it is important not...