September 5-31

September is a beautiful month in Italy -- warm days, cool nights, and the excitement of the grape harvest. Unfortunately, it is also the month I needed to be in the US for a visit. I even missed Umbertide's Festival of the 1800's -- which I had a costume made for! But, I've been in Italy for a year now and it is time to make decisions about where to plant myself long-term. As much as I enjoy myself in Umbria, I know that I can't stay in Umbria forever. Life here is an odd thing -- a timeout -- a diverting waiting room full of interesting people and new experiences. But eventually I must quit the waiting room and return to the land of 24-hour Safeway. I need to create my own place... with a garden and room to entertain friends, plant vegetables, fly on a whim to Minneapolis. I can't do that here.

My visit to the US was a scouting trip to check out likely landing spots. After almost 20 years in San Francisco, I am looking eastward -- somewhere between Virginia and New York, on a rail line. I'm flying into WDC to see some folks and eyeball the DC/Baltimore area, then a train up to Philadelphia to see friends and family, another flight to SF to pack up my apartment and visit friends, then back to the Phila area to look at neighborhoods. Jam-packed, fun-filled, stress-making.

The San Francisco Bay Area

I planned more time and less activity during this SF trip. It's hard to see everyone and still get everything done that needs doing. I stayed in my old apartment for a few days while I made arrangements to store some things. It was strange to be in a place that is so familiar, yet not my space anymore. It was a little melancholy... but there was so much to do there was no time for hand-wringing. Packing -- that is what I had time for. My friend and roommate, Michelle arranged for a storage crate to be brought to the house. Isn't that fabulous? There is a service where a company delivers a large crate to you, you pack it, then they take it away to the storage facility. The crate is large (it needs a forklift to transport) and looks secure -- big lock, ratcheted bolts. It arrives in a fuchsia all-weather cover that screams "public storage" up and down the street. (I suppose it also screams "break into me.") And it sits, taking up a full car space (premium space in SF) until you get it hauled away. I am Miss Organized -- the crate was delivered on Monday, filled on Tuesday and set for a Wednesday pick up. Wednesday I moved to Sally's house for a visit in the East Bay. When I returned on Sunday, behold -- the fuchsia crate still occupying a premium parking space. The neighbors were thrilled. My flight to Philadelphia was two days later. I called, they were confused and not all that helpful. I'm not sure why, but the public storage folks in the Bay area had the damnedest time figuring out their scheduling. Michelle said that in the end, it took two full weeks and a call to the national office to get the crate picked up (and the charges reversed). Another great time-saving idea soured by lousy execution.

I had a few days with Sally, Steve, Stephanie and, the newest arrival, Mina Katherine. We caught up on news, ate pizza, made curry, wandered around Lake Merritt -- a lovely visit. Mina was charming. She cried very little -- only one wailing session -- only one spit up on Auntie Kathryn. And, like her mom, she has a good wardrobe... Laku slippers, jewel-tone onesies, socks with rattles attached. (Sally doesn't have rattles on her socks... yet.) Mina is already showing signs of a keen accessorizing eye. My very first impression upon seeing her fuzzy little monk's cap head was that she looked like Sally's mom. But that is projection, right? At 2 months, they don't really look like anyone. She has not yet begun to assert her personality -- I think she is still getting a handle on keeping her head straight (literally). However, from what I saw, she will wrap them all around her teeny pinkie in no time.

Stef has gotten very tall and willowy. She and her dad were building a dollhouse. That took Sally and I back to our own dollhouse obsessions. We offered seasoned decorating tips and advice. I passed along what was left of my old doll furniture and accessories for her new house. No dolls or people ever lived in my dollhouse or its surrounding shoebox cottages... only plastic animals. They had lovely wooden furniture and felt rugs, bread dough pies and little magazines they could read with a magnifying glasses (if they had little eyes). I was adept at scavenging toothpaste tops and snipping dried flowers from our livingroom to make flower arrangements for my dollhouse. Stef shows great promise as a scavenger. She'll provide a good home for my cache of dollhouse treasures.

Philadelphia - The City of Brotherly Love

I may have found a likely niche in which to plant myself. Just about 30 minutes outside Philadelphia, on a metro line connecting to the trains, is a town called Mount Airy -- an old neighborhood with towering sycamore trees, little shops, old stone houses and a wide range of potential neighbors. Who knows if its perfect... nothing is perfect. It looks like a nice place to land and settle for a bit. Its a good starting point. My mom and I tooled around Chestnut Hill and the areas above Mt. Airy... People were really friendly, offering housing suggestions, smiling a lot. We had lunch at a tiny garden café, wandered into bookstores, kitchen shops and artisan galleries. We even found a small restaurant called "Umbria." I took that as a sign that I was on the right track. Now, if I could get a handle on the "what to do for a living" section of life.

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