Witches, Weight, and an Italian Conversation

There is a spooky little house around the corner from where I live. It's tall and narrow, unkempt, locked behind a gate, and has strange things in the windows, like odd dolls and plastic flowers. I fancy it's a witch's house. Not a good witch, mind you, more like the evil Hansel and Gretel kind. I find myself looking over my shoulder when I pass to make sure some haggard crone in black isn't standing behind me measuring me for her oven.

I was disapointed to see that Michael Johnson's world record for the 200m sprint was broken the other evening, but I am happy to report that his 400m record still stands. Way to go, MJ! I found it perculiar that the American medallist in the 200m, Spearman (whom the German announcer kept referring to as SPER-man), kept sticking out his blue-colored tongue to all and sundry who cared to view it. Maybe he ingested a jumbo package of Nerds before the race. I would have been impressed if he'd done something more creative like dyed his tongue red, white, AND blue.

My son, Logan, had a birthday 2 days ago. He is now a big 1-4! I have posted a recent picture of the boys which I was thrilled to receive yesterday. I certainly miss my children!

I made a last trip to Ansbach yesterday looking for a few specific items. I located a cute shirt which ALMOST fits, and did find two inexpensive brassieres (I sound like my Granny now), which, when measured, proved to be 7 1/2 inches smaller than the ones I am currently wearing. Allowing for some stretching out of the old ones, let's say the new ones are 6 inches smaller. I am thrilled! I also found some inexpensive socks and underthings. I hate spending money for that sort of thing, but am very proud to be able to purchase smaller items. I have never lost more than 40 pounds in my life and have not lost a significant amount of weight in 5 years, so this is an exciting moment for me.

I spoke with the Italian man at the coffee shop this morning. He stopped by my table and made a comment about the book I am reading, since I seem to be reading a different one each time I am there. I asked him where he is from and, while the name he gave me was familiar, I did not know exactly where in Italy it was. He told me it is in the south of Italy, not far from Sicily, and I told him about my time in Tuscany. He was aghast at the fact that I am taking an 8 month vacation, and probably thinks I am independently wealthy. Little does he know that I may never be able to retire, nor that it has been worth every last penny!