La Dolce Vita – Retreating to Italy?

Ah, Italy…l’Italia. Mi amore. This is a place I long for most days. I have a story to tell about this country and my past with it, but that will have to wait for another day. No, today’s post is about what the future holds.

After yesterday’s piece about how we, as Americans, don’t eat in so much, my husband and I decided to head to our favorite local Italian ristorante, Princi Italia. LOL If you follow me on Facebook,  you may have seen that my latest round of blood work shows I may have a gluten intolerance. Since the end of January I have been mainly gluten-free; however, I have broken this restriction on a handful of occasions. One of those times was tonight. I found myself with an immense craving for pasta. I decided that if I was going to break my no-gluten policy then it might as well be for great pasta. And this place makes their own pasta – from scratch.

We drove there, though technically we could have walked. It’s nice to have such a fabulous place so close. Our favorite waiter, Giovanni, worked tonight. Yes, he is from Italy, and we always enjoy practicing (or is that butchering?) our meager bits of Italian when he is around and willing to listen.

Recently, I signed up for a writing course. What does this have to do with pasta? Stick with me…Though the course begins in May, there is an opportunity to attend a writer’s retreat in October, headed by the person in charge of the department. Did I mention it’s in Italy? Sigh… Specifically, the retreat will be in the Le Marche region. This area is near to my heart in so many ways. We visited many years ago and fell in love with the area. Soon after our visit, we learned that my husband’s grandmother was born in the exact town we both felt the strongest connection to. That is the story I will tell later…in a separate post. Don’t let me forget!

The more pasta I ate, the more determined I became that I would attend this writer’s retreat. I look at it as fate. It’s a writer’s retreat; I write. It’s in Italy; I was Italian (in a past life). It’s in Le Marche region; my husband’s grandmother was born there. It’s in mid October; my birthday is then. Fate for sure!!

And I am surely not one to tempt Fate!

 

 

 

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