In Love with France, At Home In Italy

DESPITE BEING MARRIED TO THE SAME MAN FOR DECADES, I CONFESS TO STILL FALLING IN LOVE QUITE REGULARLY. BUT NOT WITH ANYTHING OR ANYBODY ANYONE COULD BE JEALOUS OF. PAR EXEMPLE/AD ESSEMPIO/FOR EXAMPLE, THE ITALIAN GERUND, AND FRANZ KAFKA. Not to mention Albert Camus and Voltaire, with whom I'm in constant communication by letter. And lest you think I only fall for long-dead guys, I'll add the already married Andre Aciman, who had me from the first line of "Lavender" (See  DEAR ANDRE ACIMAN ).  And also my friend, Jacqueline Raoul-Duval, whose "Kafka in Love" is a revelation. I'm also torn between having an affair with two quite different literary detectives. At first I could never imagine the Sicilian Montalbano having a worthy rival. But then Donna Leon's Commissario Brunetti came along, and now I don't know what to do. (See  THE MYSTERY OF HOW I FELL UNDER THE SPELL OF WRITE... )   And on the topic of quirky love affairs, I used to be in love ...

How many times have I had occasion to demonstrate my lack of artistic skill in the classroom? Fortunately, he's easy to draw:a stooped stick figure of a man rolling a huge boulder up something that looks vaguely like a mountain. Then an arrow pointing up, and one from the top pointing down. During my many decades of teaching French, he keeps popping up. A man for all literary seasons, he never fails to shed light on the conversation. And not just when it comes to discussing literature. He is equally at home in Bella Italia. Living as I do in the Italian countryside, I share my home with lots of dust, spiderwebs, and local fauna. Even though I make my dusting rounds several times a day, there is always more to be done. DUSTING DONATELLA I'm no great housekeeper, but in America, to have many spiderwebs and dead insects in evidence is not going to win you the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval. But Camus says we must imagine existential hero Sisyp...

We are always re-reading Oedipus and we think we get it:to try to weasel out of your fate just tightens the noose. The enterprise, Life Line Screening The Power of Prevention, is trying to sell me a bunch of screenings to detect my risk of death from stroke, aneurysms, and heart disease. According to their pitch, the screenings are painless and I don't even have to remove my clothing. If they find a condition that is life-threatening, they will notify my doctor immediately. It is tempting, but my doctor is no fool.  She knows that too many tests can lead to too much of the wrong kind of information--the kind that deludes you into thinking you can avoid your fate.  We know where that kind of thinking got Oedipus and company. As modern medicine and technology become increasingly sophisticated, it makes us think that if we pay close enough attention, we can evade death. But they can wave their magic wand as much as they want, and the outcom...

Well, the idea was that the new, slow-growing grass that they planted (and had to REplant after all the ants carried the seeds to THEIR house) would overtake all the weeds and the not-so-good grass. I was plenty skeptical, but waited a while before stepping in to try to help that fantasy along. One of my lifelong aspirations has been not to have to weed our ever-deteriorating US driveway, and here I am on our Italian terrazza in the same boat. Oh, well...   Actually, I recognize a certain symmetry, here. At the  beginning of my 3 months at the house, J caught me on camera while I was fiddling around with the plants along the low stone wall that flanks our entry driveway. So what's so relaxing about weeding? Well, it seems to be my way of settling in and reconnecting. I know that when I get back to the States, one of the first things I will do is to start puttering around with the plants, both indoors and out. And yes, I'll probably resume weeding what can only loosely be ...