Oh, Those Italians...

There is such a romance in the way Italians phrase certain things.  A simple pairing of words, and a quiet, lazy Sunday takes on a special flavor. 

In particular, I mean this:  il dolce far niente  --  the sweetness of doing nothing. 

And honestly, isn't that just about the most perfect expression?

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Saturday was busy, with my mother and aunt; shopping, lunch (gnawing on chicken legs aside, I was pleased to find I'm not yet a full-fledged barbarian and can still eat in front of others), walking the dogs, loading the desk into my mother's overstuffed car--and only breaking two fingernails in the process.

One fingernail was basically just ripped off, lots of blood and cursing, and now I have this huge band-aid on my left hand, middle finger.  The other broken nail is index finger, right hand.  Try typing.  About every third word I have to delete or backspace.

Here's an example:  I will kattempt to tyew without the curroections, with two bankaids messing me ip.  Then there's the "ooww" facgor when I jam the finger tips too hard againstt the keys.

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I changed the clocks early last night so I could try to get used to Daylight Savings--and there's an oxymoron if ever there was one.  Just think about it.

I'm totally not a fan of messing with time.  Seriously, what's the frigging point?  It screws up body rhythms, makes people tired, confused, disoriented, usually for days...and for what?  Humans.  Always wanting to control what should just be left alone.

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Terrible Sunday weather:  Rain, wind, thunder and chaos.  The boys and I got soaked to our skins on the walk this morning; they've been hunkered down ever since. 

And me?  Well, I'm loving the fact there wasn't an Open House after all today, which meant I could get a nice pot of chicken soup bubbling on the stove all afternoon (with dumplings to follow), and spend some quality time reading.

Ah, il dolce far niente.