Escape...

I am fleeing to Genoa tomorrow. I am sort of over pining away for a house... a simple one-bedroom apartment, dammit!!!... that is not going to be inhabitable until the 15th of September. I am tired of looking at the Upstairs Apartment's unfinished front door. No light over it either. I am fed-up seeing holes where a toilet should be. I cannot bear to look at the ex-fireplace imagening a kitchen... one with a marble sink, under-counter frig and a three-burner box to home-cook a plate of pasta to be eaten under the who-knows-when-it-will-happen pergola outside. I am sick of trucking back to Genoa dirty sheets, dirty T-shirts & jeans, dirty-towels to be washed in our MIELE complex of washer & dryer. By the way... ONLY 4% of Italians have a dryer. I don't even have a tub to hand wash stuff at Il Poggiolo!!! And, I refuse to go down to the river to do it. There ARE limits. So, until I pack The Dog, the laundry and other essential belongings into FIAT Barchetta and drive back to Genoa, I have found Solace & Sustenance in gazing at this photo of a rose in my Cortile. Beyond that iron-grilled-wondow is the Laundry Room. Gads.