There were some budget cuts. Decisions had to be made.
Also, I started shaving off a few pounds and the other jeans I had no longer fit.
Tossed a few sweaters. Tossed dozens of things these past few months. I’m down to one large suitcase and one little one – now I feel somewhat like a gypsy, somewhat Bohemian, somewhat of a vagabond. If vagabonds were organized, educated, and liked to have back-up plans for their back-up plans, that is. Then yes – 100% vagabond here.
Am taking a moment to reflect upon the whirlwind of the past couple of weeks, months. Walking around Rome. Going to St. Peter’s Basilica. Seeing Santa Claus in line for St. Peter’s Basilica. He, surely, must’ve known what he looked like before leaving the house that morning. I thought it was curious that there was a gift shop and a coffee bar on the upper levels of the Basilica. I bought a couple of postcards from a nun, naturally. A bit of a blur. Scaling the Spanish Steps, like Audrey Hepburn, ‘a la Roman Holiday. Resting for a moment in front of Trevi fountain. Enjoying every morsel of a certain honey and pear gelato.