I so appreciate finding somewhere to rest in the shade on a day when it’s hotter than blazes outside. Even better when there’s a breeze.

I am realizing that I was not built for sight seeing, for standing in lines, for tourism. Spending all day walking on crowded pavement in hot and sunny weather is a test of endurance for me. Maybe it would be easier in a cooler climate, or in the winter.

Nevertheless saw the Vatican, Saint Peter’s Basilica, the Pantheon, the Capitoline Museum, the Colosseum and the Roman Forum, the Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, the Ara Pacus. Walked along the Tiber River. It’s been like a marathon effort to see all the places worth seeing, all the places that aren’t to be missed.

They’re impressively beautiful places to see and I understand why crowds of people travel such a long way to see them.

Could do without the crowds, though.

When I was probably like eleven or twelve or so I used to read about Greek and Roman history and mythology all the time. Twelve year old me would have found all of this completely delightful. Even now I’m still content to look at marble statues of Minerva and Diana and Venus all day long.

I’m not an expert on art history but I’ve picked up enough knowledge to be impressed by the paintings, sculpture, architecture, old ruins.

My personal preference when traveling is just to wander until I find something interesting. Give me a place to get coffee and a public market, maybe a park, and I’m content. Museums are good too.

I’ve only ever really traveled alone until now. Traveling in company is different. There are things that are nicer this way – when I’m crashing out or lost and upset, when I need anything at all, there’s someone there trying to help me. There are things about traveling in company which are difficult – like when I am crashing out or lost and upset, there is someone there who has to witness me when I am struggling, and I’m always kind of worried that being witnessed at my worst too much will eventually mean that I’ll find myself traveling alone permanently. I’ve been told this is not something I have to worry about. Still.

The other thing about traveling in company is the always making sure to look out for what he needs and how he is doing. This is actually fine, most of the time, unless we end up needing wildly different things. At that point, usually the thing to do is to find some sort of compromise.

And I suppose the other nice thing is, like – there is someone who is there to share in the experience, which changes everything somewhat.

Concluding that traveling alone and traveling in company are both lovely but they are lovely in different ways.

Thinking I might spend the twilight years of my life traveling alone again. Might see the world at the end of my life, when everyone else is gone.

Only packed black jeans and t-shirts – among the most unwise things I’ve ever done. Quickly realized once we got here that this was a mistake. Remedied this with a pack of white t-shirts from an affordable clothing outlet and a pair of scissors to the knees of the black jeans.

Been cooking a lot with groceries and ingredients from the public market. In the first week the meal was variations on pasta and vegetables. Think garlic, basil, parmesan. Caprese salads also.

Thinking about getting tiramisu very soon.

Have been reading home cooked fiction from the archives constantly.

have been going to sleep at night with the windows open. no screens, just a rectangle of the night sky and fresh air and a slight breeze. peaceful.

not me walking to the cafe, standing at the bar and drinking a shot of espresso, walking home through the local farmer’s market, sitting outside in the shade on the balcony, reading a sad story, and listening to the only two Melissa Etheridge songs I know while my future husband is away at work

Staying in an apartment building in a residential area of Rome. We can open the windows and lean out over a courtyard full of stray cats and magpies. It’s nice here.

There is a fitness center within about one minute’s walk. It has a rowing machine. Consistent weight lifting is keeping me sane. I’ve also been walking a lot more than usual because everything is within walking distance. This is good for me, though the summer heat is putting me in something of a fight or flight response I think. Therefore it is better to walk in the evening after it cools down outside.

We are able to walk to the nearest grocery store which is about a ten minute walk. Been cooking at home often. Pasta, bread, vegetables, parm, caprese salads.

There is a café across the street – which, incidentally, is paved with cobblestones. The routine is to have a cappuccino and croissant there in the morning. The people who work there are friendly and kind. Patrons sit outside and smoke and drink coffee.

Also across the street is a public market which is open every day. Stalls covered in street art and graffiti. People selling vegetables, bread, wine, fish, clothes, household items.

We have a good place to stay.

you were busy making jokes about how such and such natural phenomena resembles the human form, i was reflecting on how the human form resembles so much else in the natural world because we are ourselves a part of the natural world, so the resemblance makes perfect sense. which was helping.

to be fair i was also making jokes about how so much in the world does in fact resemble the human form. latte art and vegetables mostly. fiancé thinks my jokes are soooo hilarious

the first thing we did when we got settled here was hit up a grocery store.

rome smells like cigarette smoke,

tastes like espresso,

feels like cobblestones under the soles of our shoes,

sounds like a motorcycle,

looks like the past.

hey would you look at that I survived to see another year

Ever had a moment when you realize that you love someone?

Not, like – *god their eyes are pretty, I can’t stop thinking about inviting them on dates.* There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing at all, but that’s not what I mean.

It’s like – when you’re late and in a bad rush and you are both stressing, you’re halfway out the door when you realize they’ve almost left having forgotten the Thing They Use To Cope When They Are Stressed and you think, wait, I know you’ll be useless without your one specific brand of notecards that you have been using to make your objectively excessive number of to-do lists etc every day for probably like the last twenty odd years, since long before I knew you, but I do know you well enough to know that you are going to need these in your travels.

So you go and get the notecards and you push them into your loved ones hands and say “wait, you almost forgot these.” And they just look greatful.

And you just know.

And it hurts so much.

It’s nice enough outside now that I can sit outside on the porch outside of the coffee house down the road from us. There’s a lilac bush in full blossom, scent carried over on the breeze. There’s the creaking of the rafters of the porch roof. There’s the rustle of leaves on the trees overhead. Sounds of a highway nearby, the thrum of a motorcycle, cars passing. The air smells clean and earthy after rain. Petrichor. Someone inside the next house is practicing at the piano, probably taking a piano lesson.

We’re just sitting here in companionable silence. Steve’s reading a paperback. I’m enjoying access to a digital library.

And do you know how some artists used to have, like, a muse? Something or someone that inspires them, fuels them up with creative energy, gives them the impulse to make something new?

When I read a good story it does that for me. When I spend time enjoying things that other people write, it helps focus the energy towards wanting to write again for myself. Like getting a letter from a friend and wanting to write back.

And there are so many good stories. It’s so good.

And anyway I like spending time with the written word. It’s lovely.

Got my blundstone boots. Got my carhartt bomber jacket. Got my darn tough socks. Got high waisted curvy black skinny jeans from Walmart. Got the shirts that you can get in a six pack for like $20 from the men’s section of Walmart. Got a black hoodie, from you’ll never guess where. Got a binder. Got the earrings from a friend that I still haven’t taken off since I got them. Got a ring on. Got a charm for a necklace from a vendor on Etsy. Got my woxers. Got my wrist tattoo. Got my faded dollar store brand box dye hair color. Got my muscles from the gym.

Got a lethal face card from my grandma and some sparkly highlighter also.

Got my wallet phone water coffee snacks and keys.

Got the things the keys unlock also.

Got my games and books and music on my phone. Got my tablet and keyboard. Got access to a library account. Got my headphones.

Got my backpack. Got my notebook.

Got almost 26 years.

Got the world – the rain, the oat milk lattes, the sidewalks, the stories, the characters, the people, the songs, the sky, the trees, the birds, the cats and dogs, the hugs, the memories, the lights, the sounds the smells the scents the sensations. Got the words.

Got a little time. Got friends.

Got tomorrow.

“Look out, look out
Here I come now, fists out
I’m a fighter bird
I’m a Harrier hawk, a wild flock
I keep time by the city clock
When the moon is steady, I’ll find you
I’m not lucky and I’m not scared
There could be goldmine anywhere

Anyone that I ever loved in this world
They’re asleep in the arms of another girl
Who will they be when the lights come up?
Everyone that I ever loved in my life
Now calls somebody else their wife
Who am I to you?

Get up, get up
Get it together and climb on up
To the top of the tree
I’m an owl now, a lonely owl
Who, who, where, what, why, when?
How the hell did I get this far without you?
Pull my feathers one by one
Put ’em in your pocket when I’m gone

Anyone that I might want in this world
They’re asleep in the arms of another girl
Who will they be when the lights come up?
Everyone that I’ve ever loved in my life
Now calls somebody else their wife
Who am I to you?

Who am I to you? Am I just anyone?
Who am I to you? Am I just anyone?
Am I the only one?

Come on, come on
Put me back together, let me soldier on
I’m the king of it all
I’m a little wren, I’m happiest when
I hitch a ride on the wing of a friend
Looking down on everything then
When the road gets weary, love
Remember who I’m dreaming of.”

“King of All Birds.” Aoife O’Donovan. The Magic Hour. 2016.