We caught the train and ended up in Florence.

I could tell you about how the last time I was in Florence with my son, we got ripped off by a cab driver, and even though this time the cab driver was a grandma, she ripped us off too.

I could tell you about how the last time I was in Florence with my son, it was hot as bleep, the hottest day we’d ever experienced in an already hot summer, and that when David and I got to Florence this time the same thing happened – 104° one day.

I could tell you about how when I was in Florence with my grandmother when I was 25, she was very excited about all of us receiving Eucharist at the Duomo, and it was then that she found out I had not yet had first communion and just about keeled over from heart failure; and I could tell you about how I planned to attend mass in the Duomo this time in memory of my grandmother, but it was so hot I rolled over and went back to sleep instead. I think she would understand.

I could tell you about how women who don’t sweat at all wear satin on the hottest day of summer in Florence, and they have a special walk that says, I am so above all of you that I can wear this ice blue satin gown and chunky magenta sandals and walk through Florence as if I am on a mission to get to my next photo shoot, because perspiration is for peasants.

I could tell you about how on our last night, David decided that he wanted to climb the hill to Piazza Michelangelo and look out over the city, even with heat and humidity and mosquitoes and tourists, and I’m glad we did.

I could tell you about how on our last night in florence, David and I stood at the base of our stairs debating whether to get involved in an emergency we heard occurring in the apartment downstairs, and how I decided we needed to knock, and David talked gently to a girl who was going into anaphylactic shock to help calm her down while I helped the mother say the key words she needed to say on the phone to get the ambulance to take her seriously and reassured her that I had a backup EpiPen if necessary; and how out on the street two Italian women graciously took over the situation and spoke to the ambulance on the phone and helped calm the girl until the ambulance arrived, and how David and I stood with the Italian women on the street, after the ambulance had swept the girl and her mother and her sister away, talking about the whole experience.

But I’ll just do a photo dump instead.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: