I live in Oregon, Oregon’s my home– thank you, Black Hawk County

I’ve been home from Europe for nearly two weeks. Despite the cold virus that hit me virtually immediately, I’ve been able to go out and about to run errands and start getting life back on track. I’m amazed at how much has to be done when one returns from overseas. Every day I mark a couple items off my “To Do” list. Then I add four more.

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What’s goin’ on?–thank you, Marvin Gaye

I was chatting with a buddy of mine about the events unfolding before our eyes on television. I have to kind of sheepishly admit that, as much as I detest television, I am glad to be back in America to see the nightly news and keep abreast of what’s happening in the world. I read seven newspapers a day online, but nothing can really replace live reporting.

Having said that, I do get sick of the talking heads shouting over each other to get their views across while an ersatz “journalist” tries to ask intelligent questions. There’s give and take on everything, I guess.

It’s curious

It’s curious.

I’ve been watching along with millions worldwide the terror attacks in Paris. One of the terrorists apparently entered the European Union through Greece on an invalid Syrian passport. Everyone is on edge. After the recent onboard bombing of a Russian jet over the Sinai, ISIS has elevated itself to a higher level of danger than we’ve ever experienced.

Back home again (redux), thank you, John Denver (redux)

My flight from Europe arrived in Portland on time at 10:25 p.m. on Tuesday, November 10. Since then, I’ve been battling a cold bug that has comfortably nestled in my sinuses. It does not make the acclimation process any easier. But it does explain why I haven’t written in five days.

It’s amazing to me to think that, the last time I wrote, I was wandering around my little town of Alba Adriatica, Italy. Everything was done, I had said goodbye to my family and my little support system. I had eaten my last glorious spaghetti dinner. Of course, I had indulged in olive d’Ascolana–three times.

Not a melancholy baby

Said goodbye to my beloved cousins last night. Maurizio and Daniela and their two children, Stefano and Celeste accompanied me to downtown Ascoli Piceno so I could once again revel in the beauty of my favorite place on earth. It was a warm (for me!) evening.

Published again!!

Rather than one of my normal postings, I’ve opted to copy and paste the link to an international adoption website that is running a series of articles written by those of us involved in adoption. Today my offering was published.

I first wrote for Portrait of an Adoption in 2014. The founder, Carrie Goldman, was impressed enough with my story and my writing to bump someone else and publish my essay during Thanksgiving weekend last year. This year she sought me out and requested another article.

I was immensely flattered. So, below is the link to the article. It is a more expansive take on an earlier blog posting I made that pretty much brings to a close, for me, the issue of adoption.

Carrie, thank you for your interest in my story, your faith in me and for your support. I look forward to working with you again.

http://www.chicagonow.com/portrait-of-an-adoption/2015/11/im-an-adoptee-and-im-complete/

All my bags are packed. I’m ready to go…

I bought my bus ticket tonight. <sigh>

It was heart-wrenching. I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional about leaving. I’m trying to remember every little detail, no matter how insignificant. Tonight while lifting weights, an expat from England I befriended, Deborah, asked me if I was sad

“Yes”, I answered.

Should I stay or should I go?–thank you, The Clash

Schizophrenia. That’s what I’ve got.

For a couple of weeks I’ve been anticipating my return to America. I’m anxious to get back to a normal life and get a routine going. I’m anxious to work again. Now, however, with only six days to go I find myself wanting to stop the clock. A sadness is buried in my chest.

I’m leaving Italy for good.

Visiting the hilltop towns of Abruzzo and Marche before returning to America

Trees really do lose their leaves in Italy. At least a few do. A very few. I stand corrected.

I noticed such this past weekend as I toured some of the local towns in my rental car. For only eighteen dollars per day I was able to get an SUV similar to my Hyundai Tucson at home. Brand new, with all the accoutrements, I was stylin’.