Back to Normal...

My Jet-lag is gone, the nasty sickness that sidelined me for a week is almost over, (I should thank Delta for sitting someone directly behind me who hacked up her lungs for 9 hours over the Atlantic! No wonder I got sick!)  and things are slowly getting back to normal around here.  The suitcases have been stored until the memory of our flight home fades into the deep, unreachable recesses of our minds.  I mailed off the gifts I purchased for my fam - here's a sampling of what I bought for Baby Max...heads up, in case YOU want to shop in the Ferrari store in Venice, thinking it is the ONLY one in all of Italy and you'll never get the chance again to blow $95 EUROS on a little jacket for your grandchild...there are Ferrari shops all OVER Italy and those darling little Ferrari jackets that cost as much as an organ transplant can be had on the street for a mere FRACTION of the cost in the shops!  Stupido Americano!!

 

 

 

 

 

My plans to post a current pic of Baby Max were dashed when I discovered The Girl made it impossible to copy her pictures, as she's a photographer and wants to protect her work - whatever!  I'm her mother for Pete's Sake, I should be allowed to copy them, am I right?!?  So I don't have a current picture to show you of the most beautiful boy in the world - you'll just have to take my word for it!

 

 

 

 

 

The Aussie gave me this lovely travel journal, it has the Coliseum stamped into the leather, and I wrote in it every night - stuck all of our receipts, maps, train tickets, etc., inside - I like to do this when I go on trips, rather anal, but there you have it.  I also write about all the exciting things we did...like me shopping for over-priced souvenirs and the mister shopping for a new COMB!  In every shop we went into he would ask if they carried combs...and then he would pretend to comb his hair while saying the word C O M B  as loudly as he could.  Oh, he HAD a comb, one he's had for 20 years, it's one of his prized possessions,  but he decided he wanted and ITALIAN COMB. No one in Italy sells combs.  No one.  At least not to tourists who pantomime.  He finally purchased a new comb this weekend, one that fits nicely in his pocket so he can coiffure the three hairs on his head any time he wants.  The mister did make one purchase for himself in Italy though...

Most people buy leather goods, the mister bought Converse All-Star High-tops. Go figure.