It’s going down to the 40′s tonight in our part of Spain – verra cold for these parts – and yet the mosquitoes are still actively chomping.  At least me.  I just got bitten, like a minute ago, on the neck…and I’m wearing a turtleneck…and I’m in a bar. (For the free Wifi.  No, really.)  There are four other people in this bar with me.  Is it wrong to hope that the mozzie shares the love with them, too?

I’m afraid that on December 31st when I look back on what I’ve written here in 2009, all I will see is a of gripes about the internet troubles we’ve had in the past few months.  But that has been the case, much to my consternation.  To that end, I just want to send a quick word to the friends of this blog – old and new – that things will probably be quiet here for a little while longer while we we wait for our internet service to be activated.

The alternatives are limited, because we’ll be broke if we go to the internet cafes every day.  Or turn into barflies if we have to keep going to pubs to check emails and write blog posts. Or morph into Wifi trolls.

This last one is a very real possibility.  Tonight we drove around various neighborhoods looking for an unprotected network. (Didn’t find one, arrrrgh.)  How sad is that?  Don’t answer.  Just cross your fingers that Telefónica process our order mucho rápido.  Graçias.

Here’s hoping you stick with me and the better posts to come.  Pinky swear.

The thing about gallivanting across parts of Italy for about six weeks and then wending your way back to Spain – pausing in France for a couple of days in between to reconnect with the cafe culture and stock up on booze – is that the experience creates a little bubble of absentmindedness.

You forget the number of days since your jeans met with soap and water, the passwords to various and sundry social networking sites, and that not one but two significant holidays loom on the horizon.  That is until your mother sends a very sweet “Happy Thanksgiving-we miss you-where the hell are you-why haven’t you updated Flickr with more photos” email and…BAM…at least the pending holiday realization hits home.

Plus, sort of ironically  – a holiday related article written a while back at the request of lovely friend appears in virtual print on her freshly minted website..and you forget to make an announcement that toots the appropriate horns.  The site, aptly named Holiday Chill, is all about helping those who experience cold sweats, raging panic, and bitter disappointment at a certain time of year they dare not name for obvious reasons do just that – chill out so they can enjoy themselves.

You can read my contribution to the cause here.  But, if this is THE year you’re gonna send those blankety blank holiday pressures out the blankety blank door, just subscribe to the feed.

Here’s hoping this year’s Thanksgiving festivities fill your belly and warm your cockles.  {clink clink}

Well, my practical dreamer friends, the 2009 Italian adventure ends today.  This morning actually, 10 AM Western European Time.  {grrr whimper sniffle, grrr} We’re to leave the keys to the apartment on the table and close the door.

Then we hit the road that takes us back to Spain and the normal-ish life we have back there.  Can you sense that that’s not exactly rocking my world right now?

That is indeed real gold making these mosaics all glowy and sparkly. (Ravenna, Italy)

Apologies for not writing about this trip every step of the way as I said I would, for – um – not writing very much at all.  The funny thing about setting the intention to just have a good time, and then actually sticking with it and having one, is that I became very protective of my good time.  As in I wasn’t letting anything with a whiff of compromise meddle with it.  Not even stuff I normally like and enjoy doing, like writing.  I say this so that when you find yourself in this same situ you’ll know that a) you’re not alone in this kind of upside-down craziness, b) it happens, and c) no need to get a brain wedgie about it.

It will take us a few days to get back to Spain, and once there we’ll be busy busy setting up house and pestering Telefonica to be quick as bunnies about setting up our ADSL.  And buying a bed so we have a place to lay our heads, acquiring cutlery and glasses and all the usual accoutrements that turn a house into a habitation.  And decompressing from enjoying six of the dreamiest weeks a practical dreamer could ask for.

In the Piazzetta Alessandro Volta in Como, Italy stands this statue of native son, Alessandro Volta, a physicist who played with electricity, lived to talk about it, and made discoveries which led to other discoveries which led to other discoveries we directly benefit from today, such as electric toothbrushes.

We might not have noticed this statue if it weren’t for the…you know.

Maybe it's the Sangiovese doing the thinking, but he doesn't look unhappy with his accessory.

Spotted this on a cafe menu in Florence…typo?  Phonetic spelling?  Thinking aloud?  Hmm.

Maybe they're just checking to see if anyone's paying attention...