After three days on a high chair, the bambino in the opera stall finally has a rested shin.

The “five minutes” took what seemed like a full quarter hour
(Or more) between their warmups for the pas de deus finale
And the start of a likewise uneven timeline of performances.

A strikingly brief statement from the engaging Japanese pair,
Flirting with the crisp fusion of the athletic and the aesthetic,
While the Americans drag out their perfections of the classic.

At odd moments, keeping us on our toes.

Despite talking often about extending a trip
To take in the Spoleto Festival, we never get
Past the insane logistics. And so we content
Ourselves as best we can with what is present:

Finding our way inside, we watch a class in ballet
Run through positions like they were child’s play.

Finding their way thru moves without a repertoire,
The modern dance troop reaches for the bizarre.

Un bambino e la famiglia, both too quick for a slow draw:

A lot going on in the park, most of it in conversational Italian:

In quest of “American” potatoes, long day’s epic journey ends.

On the way back, heavily loaded down, still shooting in pairs:

Branching out, we look forward to the advent of art:

The family photo album from last week’s diversion still
Asks me to translate the legend below Via Dei Focaroli.

Meanwhile, a cartoon on the other side of the other room
Matches the caption’s sincerity to the heart of the kitchen.