A cherry-plum tree is right outside our bedroom window—so close, you can almost reach out and touch it. On Wednesday morning when we looked out, on the delicate branches that are contrasted with beautiful deep purple leaves, we spied a bright green caterpillar. If they came in sizes, this would have been an extra-large. Curious, we looked around the tree and sure enough there was its twin just a little higher up on another branch. Having discovered a matched set, we felt like it was our lucky day. Cheryl named them Catia and Claudio—after all, they are Italian. (more…)
Well, not really, because we rarely see her and haven’t ever talked much at all, but . . . we have been in communication for years now. I know this doesn’t make sense yet, but give me a chance to explain. (more…)
This story has little to do with the man smiling and holding a white paper sign with a name on it.
It also has absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Gould (the name on the paper), whoever he is, and wherever he might have been going.
It doesn’t even have anything directly to do with the larger than life woman on the wall either, but she does have something to say to us, and that’s what this story is about. What is the message to you and me? (more…)
What I mean by that is: when somebody sends you a message that seems innocent enough at a glance, but beyond the surface niceties, there’s an underlying smarty-pants attitude that can’t be denied. The reason I even bring this topic up is because I got one of those SP messages the other day. It was from our dear friend Scott who happens to be one of the best cooks I know. Yet, that doesn’t give him the right to parade his gifts in front of those of us less fortunate! (more…)
Wednesday July 6th was the Feast Day in Fiesole where everyone celebrated Saint Romulus—the patron saint of that beautiful Italian hill town. Here’s how that day went down from my perspective: (more…)
A question like that is pretty normal in Italy, when uttered by a visitor. “How far’s Rome?” “Could we go to Venice and back in a day?” Questions we’ve heard and answered typically end up taking us on an unsuspected day trip. Just a “little” outing. We always enjoy the possibility of further exploration. So once a question is asked, we go into gear, planning and heading out on the new adventure. (more…)
It was some sort of modern day eco party that was pretty spectacular. Evidently thousands were invited unbeknownst to us. There was more than enough room for everyone to either sit down or flit around—their choice. Drinks were plentiful and unlimited while there also seemed to be an endless supply of goodies to eat. No fights broke out as the day of drinking wore on. (more…)
We just finished hosting our first In Touch In Tuscany retreat at the beautiful Villa Il Trebbiolo just outside of Florence. Scott Colglazier led us all through an engaging process of Rediscovering the Fire of Everyday Life. After the retreat concluded, Cheryl and I offered an optional tour of Florence. Of course the tour was followed with a scrumptious celebration dinner at our favorite restaurant Da Quei Ganzi, where Domenico and Matteo surprised us with even more incredible taste treats. It was a fantastic experience for all. (more…)
That’s become a rather common phrase for us in Italy. Whether we’re talking about the telephone connection, the electrical service, the water or the heat, our lament always seems to apply. Something is always breaking down, turning off, or just wavering enough to be annoying. (more…)
Years ago before visiting Florence for the first time, I remember thinking that it was probably some Mediterranean wonderland—balmy, blue skies and all that stuff. After all, if you take a spin around the rivieras from Spain, across France and down through Italy, you’re enjoying some of the world’s most spectacular weather in a huge and dreamy arc of beaches and rocky coastlines. However . . . (more…)
Cheryl & Emerson
Quality time is undeniably great for relationships. We've discovered that quantity of time can provide that quality. Perhaps it takes Time to Partner.