oh, bombarde!

right now, my knee hurts and it’s cold and i wish i was sipping italian wine and eating bread with annie, in italy.

[seemingly, those have no correlation except for the fact that when im exhausted, fragrant memories of italy sweep over me and i’m suddenly sitting on the blue couch looking out over the buildings to the ponte vecchio with a glass of wine and some sort of foccacia bread, cheese or both…and then everything seems better.]

oh, the italian wine how it comforts my soul!

oh, how i could drink those days up now. they were wonderful. simple. easy.

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