Our first trip outside of Florence began early in the morning. We went to Monterosso, the farthest north town in the Cinque Terre on the Ligurian coast. Dave and I haven't been out of Florence since we moved here last November. We couldn't wait to go.

My sister, her husband, and my niece JJ arrived on Tuesday afternoon. We sat outside on the terrace of a bar, waiting for them. It's the first time they've been to Florence while I'm living here. Only my mom ever came to Florence to visit me when I was living here in 1997-1999.

I love to read, but I'm very picky about what I read. It's hard for me to find good Italian books by Italian authors that I love. I don't normally read in Italian unless I'm in Italy. For some reason, the words seem to make more sense when I'm here. As if I can hear them more in my head.

It rained almost all day yesterday. So we didn't even venture out. Today is Pasquetta, which is Easter Monday. Everything is closed except a few bars and restaurants. I was hoping that the market or my favorite bakery would be open, but I walked around the entire area and everything was closed.

As predicted, the bells on the church rang at midnight right when we got home tonight. They haven't rung since Friday morning although I haven't really noticed. I hear them so often that I tune them out now.

Well, after a few days of staying home, taking lots of vitamins, sleeping long hours, and taking naps, I'm finally feeling much better. What started out as allergies, and then appeared more like the flu, ended up being a cold....we think.

I've told everyone that my 6-year old niece JJ is coming to visit us here in Florence. It'll be her first trip to Europe ever! Of course, she's not coming alone, she's bringing her parents too. It has been planned for quite a while and each time I talk to her on the phone she asks me when we're going to see each other again. "Soon," I always say.

Dave and I stayed in yesterday. Neither one of us felt that great. As soon as I tell my friends that I'm not feeling well, the first question each one asks me is, "Che temperatura hai?" (What temperature do you have?) They think I'm nuts because I didn't have a thermometer until recently. I just know when I feel good and when I don't. I didn't need a thermometer to figure it out for me.

Some days I can be doing one of the most mundane of things, like washing the dishes, and there's a tug at my heart. It whispers to me and when I don't pay attention, it begins to yell. Memories of my mom flood my head. Memories of the last time she travelled to visit me when I was living in Florence back in 1998. Three years of memories before she passed come to me in an instant.

I decided to make nice with the girls at the lavanderia (dry cleaner's) today. I've been wanting to go back and say something instead of walking out without looking back, like I did the last time. I finally decided, after much procrastination, to go to the lavanderia today.

Well, today is the most perfect of days! We woke up to beautiful sunshine (which isn't unusual), but the air was mildly cool instead of bitterly cold. I sat outside for the first time today on the terrace to write. I closed my eyes and sat there facing the sun. It quickly warmed me up from the inside out.

I don't even think about it much any more. I switch languages all the time depending on who I'm talking with. Most of what I do at home is in English. And then, I answer the phone or go outside and everything changes: I speak only in Italian.

Normally I go to the mercato alone. I go to the same vendors and do my shopping. Today, Marta wanted me to show her around. She doesn't live near the market and doesn't know which places are good to buy things at. I've had a few months to learn the hard way. I buy things at one vendor and taste them. If they're good, I go back, if not, I don't.

Instead of my usual brisk walk through the piazza to get to where I want to go, I decided to sit on one of the cement benches on the sunny side of the piazza. Instead of looking at the church and the surrounding buildings, I watched the people.

People often ask me where I come from. I have learned not to say, "American" because they usually assume South American. So, I tell them jokingly, "Sono Californiana...non si vede?" (I'm Californian, can't you tell?). When I said that the other day at the market, a guy responded, "Hai perso la tua abbronzatura." (You lost your tan.)