Ah, Italia. I know you've been waiting for the installment chronicling my travels to Tuscany with the matriarch. And even though I've talked with siblings #1 and 3 by phone, I haven't yet detailed the trip to anyone. So here goes:
The Good
There were a couple of times on this trip when I really enjoyed seeing the matriarch realize some personal "dreams." One night in Lucca (ancient walled city near the mountain farmhouse we stayed in), our Italian guide Juliana brought us to the birth home of Puccini (composer of the operas La Boheme, Madame Butterfly, etc., etc. -- and a favorite of mom's). Mom had really wanted to see his house, but Juliana pooh-poohed it, saying that Puccini really didn't like living in Lucca that much (Juliana was a fierce advocate for Lucca, vocally preferring it to all other Italian destinations).
Still, knowing that mom wanted to see it, she brought us to the square where his birth home sits on the corner. In this square, there is a large statue of Puccini seated in a chair. A photo was in order. Three of the women in our group urged mom to climb up into Puccini's lap for a Kodak moment. Mom, of course, mildly freaked out and insisted she couldn't climb up. So these women hoisted her up. It was hysterical and touching at the same time. And the people sitting at a cafe nearby no doubt thought we were all a bunch of insane, cackling women. Anyway, hence the attached pic of the matriarch sitting in the lap of a composer she declares as a "very handsome man." (Don't EVER tell her I put this up on the blog.)
Shortly after this, Juliana brought us to the studio of a well-known tailor to the rich and famous -- mainly because his studio was in an historic Italian villa. Gorgeously restored, decorated, with occasional mannequins wearing designer brands like Chanel. The tailor was a tall, charming, bald and decidedly gay man who Juliana had known for years. He was playing an opera as background music and I asked who was singing because the voice was haunting and beautiful. He named her (and I can't remember who it was), quickly assessed us all as Americans and therefore Maria Calais fans so he put some Calais on the stereo instead and led us to a back dressing room. There in the middle of the room was a mannequin wearing a Maria Calais gown that this tailor had made. He had slipped a photo of Maria into the shoulder of the gown.
This guy immediately clued into mom, who was beside herself with awe and started the predictable waterworks. It was touching. The tailor went right over to her and said, in Italian, "don't cry, don't cry..." And several women in our group started crying over the whole touching scene. Ay-yi-yi... ;)
The Bad
This trip was jam-packed with activity. If we weren't sight-seeing or shopping, we were involved in these amazing cooking lessons. I learned how to make an authentic tiramisu, by the way, and it tastes absolutely NOTHING like the stuff we make over here. It's WAY better! The last night I learned how to make homemade ravioli (stuffed wtih feta and spinach or sausage and sage). Thing is, there was always so much food, you felt like you couldn't possibly eat another bite and they'd be dishing out more. So that was kind of bad, at times.
And then there was the whole airport security thing. The Matriarch doesn't DO airport security well. She was exasperated at JFK because we had to go through so many checkpoints. And she had to take off her SHOES, for heaven's sake. ;) Furthermore, she kept trying to push me over the yellow line you have to stand behind at customs until they call you up to the window. She seriously didn't GET that you have to wait until they call you up to the window. Kept saying, "Go on, DeeDee, go on!" I finally snapped at her. I CAN'T mom!!!! Yeesh.
The Ugly
The woman makes noises. She snores (loudly). She sighs (audibly). And she talks to herself. This all occurs late at night and early in the morning. Both times of the day when anyone else would want peace, quiet and the ability to veg out. I told sibling #1 that I found myself facing the wall and rolling my eyes every time she uttered an "ahem.... hum, hum, hum..." Oh. My. God.
But still, all in all, it was a nice trip. And, as a potential bonus to you all, I believe the Matriarch may have learned the value of freshly made food (as opposed to frozen). Ciao for now!
