HELP! I’VE FALLEN IN (love with) TUSCANY AND I CAN’T GET UP

Firenze Complete!

     About the middle of October we had secured a room for two nights in Roma after we get in from the airport.   I felt I really needed to contact Marianna and Maxillian and, oh so politely, asked if the Calzaiuoli apartment was available for the Saturday that we had no place to stay.  I figured it couldn’t hurt to at least inquire.  I could imagine Marianna on the other end of the email, opening my request with distain once she remembered that “rude Americano’.   This incredibly thin business woman in her latest “Milano fall fashion” power suit, with more gold jewelry than any one has a right to wear, shooting back her mid-morning espresso in one quick swallow, sighing with disgust that “these ‘Americani’ they just want more!?”

     When two weeks past, I thought she was doing the typical Italian thing-- tomorrow is better than today.  After three I realized that Marianna was probably not going return my email so I contacted Cristina Galardi—Signore Andrea’s representative.  In my email, I again literally through myself on the floor with apology for even asking or daring to think we could ask for and other night.  It took her one day:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jones 

for us it is not a problem to rent you the appartement on 19 giugno because it is 

available. 

I will give you the exact amount for your staying and i will send you the link to do 

payment with credit card. 

Looking forward to see you in Florence I send you my kindest regards 

Cristina Galardi

     I couldn’t believe how things were really starting to come together.  We had even been approached by two other couples we know and a widowed lady (unlike any widow you’ve ever met) that I use to teach with, all asking about joining us in Firenze.  Amici in Italia--la divertimento!

‘Tub Dreams’ – Hot Water Soaks and Vacation Plans

     One thing you really have to be cautious about when you have a spa tub, besides keeping the chemicals balanced, are the day dreams, or as I like to call them – Tub Dreams.  They can take over ones capacity to reason and deal with the real world more quickly and insidiously than any book or movie could ever do.  On those cold November evenings, when I never missed an opportunity to get in a soak, no matter how short, relaxing and kicking back in the spa can be a mind-altering experience.

     When the temperature is in the high 90s and the bubbles are really churning up the water, dangerous thoughts can seep into ones brain.  Dangerous thoughts like now that we have two weeks planned what about a third week in Tuscany.  Looking up at the stars in the late November sky, my mind wandered forward to night skies in June in the land of the Etruscans.  Getting out into the countryside is what everyone from Máté, Mayes to Steves recommends.  Knowing that  Marianne could not possible have one leg to stand on when it came to driving around the rural parts of Tuscany, why couldn’t we combine public transportation and a rental car and stretch this trip to three weeks.  I mean, if the tickets were going to cost an arm and a leg (and my right testicle) why not stay on Italian soil as long as we possibly could.  We could stay in convents and seminaries, eat bread and cheese, and explore all that is the “real” Italy. 

     As I would soak in the hot water, I could imagine us catching a train out of Santa Marie Novella station and traveling to Lucca.  We could spend three nights a ostel, use the town’s bus system to travel, catching the handy bus that you pick up just off Piazza Verdi and traveling to Pisa and the leaning Torre.  Those Italian’s have made it so easy.  For €3, $4.50 each, it drops you off right in front of the Campo dei Miracoli and the whole reason for checking out Pisa, according to Steves.  I cautioned myself, that it traveled back and forth between the two cities only once every hour and missing “the bus” could have its problems and ramifications—stuck it Pisa which is apparently not terribly scenic or be-loved as, let say Firenze, but is still special to the Pisans—whom apparently no other Tuscan city trusts. 

     Of course, getting in line to climb the Torre is a whole other story.  The basic cost for you doing the aerobic workout of 294 steps is €15 plus a €2 on-line booking fee, $25.50, must be well worth it.  Right?  Apparently you can make a reservation on-line, but no less than 15 days before your visit and no more than 45.  Also, you have to be there a half an hour earlier, plus 15 minutes earlier for some other reason.  It’s all very Pisan and I don’t begin to understand it.  Getting up the Torre is the ultimate goal.  And, if you want to get into the Duomo, baptistery or cemetery all of them will set you back €10 a person or $15.  It’s there “combo” ticket.  Sounds American doesn’t it?

     Lucca has similar deals with their attractions.  A $9 ticket gets you into the Duomo, its museum and San Giovanni.  Another combo ticket, the one I was most interested in, was the tower “package”—the clock tower and the Guinigi tower—the one with the trees growing on top of it.  This is the tower you see in most panoramas of Lucca.  I have always found it intriguing and promised myself, if I ever got to that city I would climb the tower, all 227 steps, just to take in the surrounding views while seating in a shaded garden.   There is so much to see and experience in Lucca.  This unique and often over-looked Tuscan city is apparently a Romanesque ‘Linzer torte wedding cake’ architecture with a surrounding wall that is used to bike and stroll around the old city.  “A perfect end” to our Tuscan holiday is what I thought.  We could take the train to Pisa airport and fly out on Tuesday, June 29^th and be home on July 1^st.

     But…  What if we were able to extend our time, win the Powerball, or pull everything out of the retirement account?  We could then venture on and really get to know the country and its people.  What about heading to Empoli, getting a economical rental car and heading into the hills to the southwest at Certaldo?  Less than an hour away is San Gimignano, and another 40 minutes away lies Volterra.  These two cities have been high on my list of places to experience since I first laid eyes on them years ago.  San Gimignano, with its 11^th century towers, is always described as the Medieval “Manhattan” with its ‘skyscrapers’.  And Volterra, its many attractions-- the Etruscan gates, Roman ruins, and medieval fortress with its idyllic Tuscan hilltop-town charm, it’s no wonder that the author of “Twilight” (that romantic-Vampire-schlock phenomenon) set part of the book there.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, the producers of “New Moon” actually chose Montepulciano for its locals rather than Volterra.  “Non importante.”  The beautiful Volterra has still been over-run by vampire lovers who congregate in weird conventions at various times of the year, hoping to make sleepy little Volterra a vampire “Mecca”.  Oh please…

      I imagined that Marianne and I could also spend three nights in Volterra, possibly at the Seminary Vescovile Sant’Andrea for €36 ($54) a night.  Then we could explore the city and ‘neighboring’ San Gimignano at our leisure.  I could get out and photograph and paint, while Marianne explored alabaster shops and lounged and an outdoor café, sipping an espresso.  In the evening we could descend upon an enoteca I really want to experience—La Vena di Vino.  This place, run by friends Bruno and Lucio, seems to be a hub of down right partying, with a very rustic décor and countless bras hanging from the ceiling.  I could just imagine how unique this place could be, how much vino could be consumed and how much we could have.

     From there, we would head east, southeast, taking in the hill towns of Casole d’Elsa, the Abby of San Galgano near Monticiano, then south, through the northern fringe of the Maremma region, pass through Civitella Paganico and Paganico, head up past Monte Antico, maybe visit Castello di Banfi in Campigliano, turn near Tavernelle and past La Villa to the Máté winery.  Ferenc is the writer specializing in Tuscan ‘adventure’s and sailing novels.  His is like me, the dreamer of the family.  After purchasing the old Friary outside of La Villa (near Montalcino), restoring it, and painstakingly returned the vines and winery to a productive state, his  painter wife, Candace, turned out to be the one with the nose—the sommelier.  Ferenc says he’s just the hired help while Candace, and their son Buster, now off at college, really made the winery happen. Now Ferenc Máté keeps claiming that their wines are great and the 10 year old winery charges as much.  The 2009 “Wine Spectator” rated four of the five of latest MÁTÉ releases in the 90s:    91 Máté Brunello di Montalcino 2004

Shows plum jam, with cooked fruits and flowers on the nose. Medium- to full-bodied,
with soft and sweet tannins and a pretty berry and vanilla aftertaste. Hard not to drink
now, but give it a little bit of bottle age. Best after 2010.  400 cases made. —JS

91 Máté Merlot Sant'Antimo Mantus 2006

Blackberry and hints of green olive on the nose. Full-bodied, with chewy tannins and a
fruity finish. Very fruity and juicy; excellent depth of fruit. Needs time to soften. Best after
2011. 325 cases made. —JS

90 Máté Syrah Sant'Antimo Banditone 2006

Blackberry, spice and hints of vanilla on the nose. Full-bodied, with polished, soft tannins
and a long, flavorful finish.  No problem with Syrah character here. Best after 2010. 100
cases made. —JS

90 Máté IGT Toscana Albatro 2006

Fascinating aromas of blackberry and dried flowers. Full-bodied, with silky and sweet
tannins and a long, delicious finish. Slightly jammy. Very pretty. Sangiovese and Merlot.

Best after 2011. 275 cases made. —JS

It’s not that I know a lot about wines, but I always get the K & L Wine Distributors’ monthly releases and anything in the 90s seem to be good.  I doubted whether I had ever had any wine that rated in the 90s before—and more importantly, would I ever.  I then thought, wouldn’t it be great to actually buy these wines from Ferenc and Candace in Montalcino.  No way!

     Maybe, we could get out to the Mate winery, without having shot our mortgage too badly, and blithely wind our way up to Montalcino and stay at a very inexpensive Bed and Breakfast, like Il sogno del Musicista--€60 ($90).  It wouldn’t be hard to find something to eat there or a place to get some good wine—Marianne and I are dying to taste a real Brunello when Fernando takes us to Montalcino on Monday June 15^th. 

     The next we could push on east, maybe taking in the Abbey Sant’Antimo, the incredible beauty of Castiglione d'Orcia, head on and drive up the famous switch-back hill outside of La Foce, check out the gardens and grounds there and head east to Chianciano, and finally Chiusi.  The Albergo La Sfinge --€65 ($97.50) could be in the budget.  Chiusi is another tiny hilltop town that has a major Etruscan past.  Not only does Chiusi boast an Archaeological museum, the Cathedral museum, and underground attractions like the Mueso Civico (Etruscan water works), but is a major hub of train travel—connecting to every part of the ‘big boot’.  He we could ditch the car a take the train back to Pisa and the airport or all the way back to Fiumicino in Rome, where we started.

     Or we could take the trains, via stops in Orte and Spoleto up to Campello sui Clitunna and stay in Fortanella at a B & B that Michael Tucker and Jill Eikenberry stayed at when they first came to Umbria (Living in a Foreign Language).  Albergo Rist.Fontanelle Di G.Spitella is € 78 ($115) a night, but if they is a shuttle transport of some sort to Spoleto, Marianne and I could part-take in the Festival of Two Worlds that runs for two weeks starting the last weekend of June and spilling into July.  This is the festival created by my favorite (use to be living) contemporary opera compose, Gian Carlo Menotti.   We could experience the things that Tucker writes about in his books and then catch the train to Fiumicino and get home by July 5^th or so.  Oh wait, that’s over four weeks…   

     My mind was racing with all the possibilities.  Maybe we could even drive the car down and across Umbria.  We should stay a night at Poggio Etrusco, outside of Sant’Albino first.  No, wait, they want a two night minimum.  My mind reeled with the possibilities.  It was then I realized that I had been in the hot tub far too long and that not only was my skin shriveling to the consistency of a prune, probably my brain was as well.  I ended the spa session of the evening and decided to ‘casually’ track details and costs of my flights of fancy at a leisurely pace.  After all, it was Thanksgiving week and there were other priorities, like the dinner and Black Friday sales to decide upon.

     Candace Máté seemed to very busy on Black Friday, here in the states, catching up with correspondence and putting out PR for the new wine a Mate Winery.  I got two ads for their new wine, and an opportunity to have Ferenc autograph a copy of his new book, but since I had already read it and reviewed it at his request, I’d hoped I could actually meet him in June.  Candace wrote:

Dear David and Marianne - 

Many thanks for your interest in our wines. I apologize for not writing back sooner, 

but this is a busy season.  We have a small winery so we can't give "tours" as large 

wineries often do, but we do set aside 

an hour at the end of each work day for tastings and sales. Could I please ask you 

to write back to us in April? June is quite far off for us to schedule a reservation. 

I'm sending you a mailing (from another e-mail) - in case you're interested. 

I look forward to meeting you in June. 

best regards, 

Candace Máté

I emailed her back and thanked her for her response.  Because she is a painter, even doing the artwork for the labels, as well as being the business end of the winery, I had to ask if she was still painting:

Hi David - 

Thanks for the kind words about the labels. Unfortunately I don't have to time 

to paint - this wine stuff is very demanding. Hopefully, one day, we'll break 

even and I can hire someone and return to my painting. 

See you in June, 

Candace 

She really said June!!!

     Parts and pieces of my ‘tub dreams’ seemed to keep falling into place—or a least in cyber space and the space between my ears.  So, on the first evening that I got Marianne into the hot tub (steps being delivered and securely in place, courtesy of our friend Leonard) I casually broached the subject of extending the ‘Grand Tour’ beyond the “two-week golden line of demarcation”.  It, course, came as no shock to her.  Every time we had talked about visiting other places when we talked to our friends, or my hinting that “maybe we shouldn’t rush the Firenze week and try to do a Pisa train trip or a San Gimignano-Volterra until after we are out of the apartment on that Saturday”, it was crystal clear to her that I wanted an extension—if we could afford it. 

     I explained the research I had done and cautioned her that this was just a “tub dream” and nothing more.  The idea of not having to lug luggage around with us in Pisa appealed to both of us, and the relaxed timbre of a stay in another small city, even “Lucca!” was not that alarming to her.  I started to suggest the ostello, and it nearly ended the conversation. 

     “We would have to stay in a B & B or a hotel! (“o-tell” as she now picked-up saying from Italian class) --an albergo. 

     “We’re not staying in a youth ostello.”  Marianne stated firmly.

     “No, no, no,” I interjected lightly, trying to save the moment, “these have private apartments with their own baths.”  I had also found Albergo Diana for €60 a night—with the Rick Steves discount.

     “Well, maybe.”  She sounded very skeptical.

     “I was just trying to save money.  I guess I’ll go back to the Rick Steves and try to find something we could both be happy with, if you want.”

     “This sounds like more than just a “pipe dream”, she stated with that quizzical look that told me I could cross the line here any second.

    “You, know we could take the train after that to Pisa or Empoli, rent a car and drive up to San Gimignano-Volterra.”  I offered as a peace offering.

     “I would be doing the driving,” she cut in, “and I want a Fiat.”

       “Okay.”  I said.  “What every it takes,” I thought.

     Now, long before I married or even meet Marianne, she and her second husband, Bob, owned a Fiat--a 124 Fiat (baby blue –black ragtop).  She always treasured it, and I am sure I would have loved it too, but she would have been doing the driving.  I just let her run with that idea, letting her rival in the ideal of speeding through the Tuscan country side, waving at all the policemen as she sped past them.  I knew full well that a Fiat would cost “billions” to rent, but, for now, I let her enjoy the fantasy.

     This was great.  She was warming up to the idea.  In a few weeks I could give her my “Grand Tour” package-deal and plans would start to ‘gel’ for the third week.  Right now we would have to strict with the second week plans and ‘nail them down’.  Details like what day we were going to which museum, when we could go to the opera, what day for Donetella and Chianti.  All of which had to be getting firmed up sooner and not later.  Now the primary task that needed to get done was getting the money out of the retirement account and into the bank accounts of Cristina, Fernando and Rosetta, or we wouldn’t be going anywhere.  Oh, and buying the blessed airline tickets.  I couldn’t wait for that adventure.

     So on the first Wednesday night in December, right after dinner and right before choir practice, Marianne began talking about calling the travel agent in the morning to have an agent help us get plane tickets.  I was so pleased that she was ready to move forward with plans.  I had set aside Thursday evening to call the broker and commit half of the retirement fund to Italian fun and depravity. 

     I began talking about my search for public transportation in the towns of San Gimignano and Volterra.  I had found that there was an electric bus that made a triangular trek around San Gimignano and would be great for Marianne to ride into the town without having to ascend the hill into town.  All she would have to do is take the bus from the southern gate, Porta San Giovanni, up to Piazza Della Cisterna.  I cold walk the hill and she could wait at the step of the well in the square, maybe getting a gelato and an espresso, she interjected.  I told her that Rick Steves suggests visiting San Gimignano after four o’clock—when the tourists leave.  So what are we?--she chimed in.

     Rick Steves is very quick to tell everyone how touristy the town is and how greedy to make a buck the town’s folk are.   However, he does think it’s a wonderful example of medieval splendor and not to be missed.  From reading his comments about San Gimignano, you have to wonder if he likes the actual town more or the inhabitants—including the tourist--less.

     “So why don’t we rent a car in Lucca while we are staying there, see Pisa, then drive to San Gimignano and stay in Volterra,” asked Marianne--like she had just thought that up.

     “That’s sounds great,” I said, playing along with her. 

     “Then we could drive the car back to Lucca and take the train to Pisa and fly out of the airport there.”

     “I think that works well.  You know, we could drive from Volterra to Montalcino, stop at the Máté winery, and other Brunello wineries, then spend a night in Montalcino, I found a B & B called “Il sogno del Musicista” that is only €60 a night--$90.”

     “But Fernando is taking us to Montalcino the first week!”

     “Yes, but he isn’t taking us to Máté winery, just the town.”  I reminded her about the invitation from Candace Máté.  She really seemed to like that idea.     

     “We could also visit the two Abbey’s San Galgano (Monticiano) on the way and Sant’Antimo is like ten miles outside of Montalcino.”

     “You are going to drive me crazy.”  She paused to regroup.  “So--what are the dates I can tell the agent to book for the flight?”  She asked, “If that is your third week plan.”

     “I think we should tell her at least July 1^st,” I said boldly with shaky confidence, trying to quickly count the possible days we could extend the trip.

     “July 1^st!?” 

     “Well, sure.  If we do three nights in Lucca, that’s Saturday, Sunday Monday.  A night in Volterra and one in Montalcino, that would be the 29^th and 30^th of June.  Then we would have to get the car back to Lucca and take the train to Pisa, or maybe we could drop the car off at the airport.  I would have to check all that out.”

     “Okay.  I will tell her tickets for June 10^th, out of Portland, landing in Rome, then, flying out of Pisa on July 1^st.  But look kid.  How do you really feel about spending this much money?  This is a ‘hell’ of a lot of money.  Heck, most people visit their own country before they visit other ones.”

     Luckily, my father and mother took us to as many places in the continental United States as they possibly could.  I had seen everywhere, but Alaska, Hawaii, Texas, and some southern states, but that it.  Marianne hadn’t been to all that many places, being from the east.  We still had plans to see Glacier together, Yosemite, and Canyon Lands.  Maybe she was right.  Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this big of a trip without first seeing our own native soil. 

     I pondered it for most of the next day and really started to hesitate because of the money and my citizenship.  Every time I tried to convince myself to stop the Italia madness, I kept visualizing us seeing Florence or Siena, or driving through Tuscany, the Val d’Orcia and up the hills to La Foca.  I just couldn’t stop wanting to experience that unique opportunity.  I came home after school and told Marianne, I didn’t care if I had to work at Costco or as a greeter at Wal-Mart when I retire, we needed to do this.  I talked with the broker and she talked with the travel agent.  I set aside the equivalent of 6 months worth of my salary and she got us tickets for $1,600 a piece.  I was appalled.  I had looked at tickets in July and they were at $800.  Now the G. D. airlines had doubled them, plus they would charge $50 for each bag we checked.  I vowed that we would pack everything we needed in two carry-on bags and one checked one—for souvenirs. Balls to the wall, pedal to the metal—Andiamo Mamma!

HELP! I’VE FALLEN IN (love with) TUSCANY AND I CAN’T GET UP

Bus and Train Travel Plans
      I want to offer some words of advice, not that I am wise or anything, but just a ‘heads-up’ if you will, when it comes to trying to plan side-trips while in Italy. Don’t. Yes, don’t. The way it works in our house is if David thought of it, it’s not feasible. If Marianne thinks of it, it’s right. That’s the Gods’ honest truth of it all.
I wanted to plan a day trip to Pisa, San Gimignano, and Volterra that would be inexpensive. We could use public transportation, train and bus, and have a day where we could sight see at our own pace. Italian public transportation, although prone to an occasional strike, is known for its dependability. Just read your Rick Steves. We wouldn’t have to pay anyone to do this; we could just pay for the rides. My reasoning was these three towns lie to the south and west of Firenze. The tower at Pisa, a tourist ‘Mecca’, is seen best early in the day and later in the afternoon, when the crowds are thinnest. San Gimignano is well attended all the time and sleepy Volterra is the unexpected treasure.
      We could get on the electrio Bus B at 7:00 AM, after grabbing a quick cappuccino outside the apartment in Piazza Cimatori. Then we catch a train at the SMN station and head to Pisa by, 7:30 AM. The train takes an hour--that’s 8:30 AM. The bus terminal in Pisa is right outside the train station and, after buying a ticket at the Tobacci Shop right there, the bus ride to the Field of Miracles is 20 minutes-- 9:00 AM. It might take an hour to see the leaning tower (making sure I had a pass and reserved time to climb it), look inside the Duomo and baptistery, back on the bus to the train station, another 20—10:30 AM tops. Waiting for the next train would take the most time.
      Marianne and I could also take the train to Poggiobonsi (an industrial town) to the south and west from Florence and be there by 11 AM; then transfer to a bus heading to San Gimignano (the medieval Manhattan) that takes only 30 minutes. We could be there by noon, sight see, eat, and get on the bus bound for Volterra by 3 PM. By 4 PM reposo will be ending and we can check out the town, Etruscan museums, and alabaster shops until ‘wine-time’ and have a something to eat a La Vena di Vino (a great looking enoteca). We would be back on the bus by 7 PM and at the bus station in Firenze by 8:30 PM. From there we find our electrio Bus B and ride it back to Piazza Cimatori and our apartment. It would be easy, except, that we would have to be at the train and bus stations on time, and catch the right buses and trains. But I think we could do that. Right?
“Oh no!” declared Marianne, “We could never do that. We would need a private driver-guide. There will be none of this ‘doing it on our own’ thing!
We get in someone’s car and they drive us as close to wherever as they can.
Then that guide will tell us everything we need to know. Then we’ll get back in the car and they will drive back to our apartment in Firenze.” And she, again, left no room for discussion. So after being told to plan the outings and don’t spend too much money, she changed the rules and starts adding on the expenses. Have you seen how much private tours cost?!
Negotiations were reaching ‘critical mass’ and deadlock and it was only the end of October. I guessed it was better just to work on the budget for the trip and figure out how much what we already had were committed to would cost. It took a couple of weekends, but it was Marianne who asked that we work Friday evening into the schedule to do ‘the deed’. Of course that passed by too, so I decided to start the process.

Best Laid Plans
      This was the designated weekend to ‘ratchet-down’ the plans for Italy and see how much this ‘puppy’ was going to set us back, financially. That should have sent up red flags and flares from the start. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday working on computer to get costs, finding a hotel in Rome, and trying to make some sense of our hopes for the Firenze week. Then we would align it with reality. Coupled with yard duties, pad duties, music duties and church it made for a full weekend. The high point was finding a room in Rome to crash in for two nights after we touch down, June 11; the low—not talking to Marianne for about 5 hours.
I had been looking into convents, but found that they cost just as much as a hotel, that there are less amenities and that many have curfews. Not that we will be having a problem with being in the building and sleeping by a certain time. A 9 hour plane trip can wipe anybody out. Jet-lag always hits me hard. I remember my first 13 hour fight to Columbia in college, I slept for 24 hours straight, except a meal, and when a Columbian business man, who was staying in the next door, brought two giggling women to his room sometime during the day—or night.
As I started to really price things out, leaving blanks where meals should be, tallying up the euros and then converting to US dollars, I saw how much this two-week trip was going to ‘cut-into’ my retirement account. Boh (enough)! I was fine with that until Sunday evening when Marianne started looking at airline tickets. She couldn’t find anything through Expedia, Orbits, etc. for under $1,600 a piece! In the proceeding months I was seeing $900 and $1,000, but suddenly, at the end of October, 8 months before the flight, it was going to cost us $3,200 to $4,000 to just get to Italy and back! That was the straw that broke the camels back; suddenly Marianne lost all hope of ever being able to go.
      “So, how much money did you think we are going to spend?!” Marianne whipped at me after net-surfing,  “How much did YOU think we were going to spend!?”
      “Maybe, $12,000?”
      “It’s going to be more like $20,000!!”
      I envisioned a cliff and falling off of it. There was no way out except to fall. Could I let this go so easily? So I blurted out, “Then we aren’t going. Let’s stop all this pretending and just say it. We aren’t going. Thanks to the greed of the airline companies, we won’t be getting our dream trip.”
      “Only rich people can travel! Yelled Marianne. “I am sorry I ever found Fernando and Rosetta’s website.” “It is totally my fault. I shouldn’t have ever gotten us into this.”
      Marianne went into a depression that lasted to the next morning. When she gets like that, I get angry at first, and then I also succumb to depression. Going to bed at 8:30 is not my idea of fun, but if you can’t talk to one another, and everything just gets worse and worse, it’s time to go ‘read’. Really, I worn the hell out of the TV remote trying to find something to watch.
      Anyway, Marianne came to bed around 11 and we made up. The next morning she was still letting things effect her and we started the day off on a sour note. I left confused and hurt and I am sure she was equally wounded. She called at work later on and said how sorry she was, and how it wasn’t fair that she does this to me before I go to work. I told her it was my fault, and that I was sorry. It went back and forth for a few turns of the ’blame game’ and we ended the call with sincere “I love you”s and her promise to make this trip work!