It’s strange to think we were some 5000ish miles North-East of here at this time of year last year.
I found myself craving prosciutto today. So I treated myself to some. No, I didn’t look at the price before picking it up. I had no walk-away power in this matter. Sorry, Dave Ramsey.
I told Mom, when I go for that semester in Rome, I’ll have gelato every single day, and a prosciutto-and-mozzarella sandwich just like the first one I ever had at least every other day, so that by the time the semester is over, I will be thoroughly tired of gelato and prosciutto-and-mozzarella sandwiches and be more than perfectly happy to have to wait another five years before getting another bite (or lick) of either.
*sigh* What I wouldn’t give to be walking barefoot along the shoreline singing a three-month-old Nino to sleep right now.