Summer in Italy is an interesting phenomenon. There are aphids in our luscious roses and the landlord just sprayed deadly pesticide on the hazelnut orchard outside our house. Our neighbours have begun to use their grill a lot, which smells lovely, and the next neighbour over has a dog which recently gave birth to eight sweet little puppies. We leave our doors and windows open during the day and the feel of marble under my feet is pleasant, now.

Well, it’s been up and down since I last wrote. I’m not doing well, and I have more bad days than good ones, but apparently I put up a good front (it does take a lot of practice) since someone who came by to see me at work said I looked as if I was enjoying myself. Could there have been a more satisfying or damaging remark said to me this year? I don’t know.

Anyway, perhaps as the summer wears on I will be able to clear up some things that are making my life miserable right now. For one thing, I’ll have to drink a lot more iced tea . . .