RECONNECTING
I’m thinking of how Persephone’s eating of one pomegranate seed bound her to her new home in Hades. At certain times of the year, like her, I am able to go back and forth between homes. For me, however, this is paradise, and to mark my reconnection to my *new/old home, I need to start weeding. Then I know I am really here. *I feel as if I need to think about why I found myself using “new/old” twice in my first blog of the summer. In terms of the new/old, gauzy, flowered culottes mentioned above, I realize they have some connections to the “in love with France, at home in Italy” subject of my blog. The bottom half of an old outit that I had bought in Paris when I was teaching there in 1988, this resuscitated garment was on its maiden voyage to my new home in Umbria. It is also new/old in that this is its first trip anywhere in a l-o-n-g time. During the decades it was waiting for both of us to end up here, all of the elastic went out of its adorable, smocked waistband, l...