Change Of Pace

There are a lot of things I've been meaning to tell you. But, somehow the moment passed, or the validity of that set of experiences flitted away, which is a little sad. I've always been sentimental about flitted moments. But before I go on about all this hoo-ha, I wanted to tell you how I tried to fix my alarm clock the other day. It's a little clock that is shaped like a snail, and my mother "lent" it to me years ago, but I never wanted to part with it. Anyway, it's long been ailing, even though I've changed its batteries three or more times. The clock doctors, and there were many, said they simply didn't have the parts to fix it. Something in it was off. How could that be? In all of Manhattan, not one person could fix my little snail? One after another exclaimed, it's working, it's working Miss, what's the trouble? To which I replied, a new battery was just put in, and it will work perfectly, but only for its first hour of renewed life, and then sadly, it would stop, which of course called to mind the silly but true aphorism, that even a broken clock was right two times a day. This whole clock scenario seemed like a mini story that represented my last two years in New York. Nothing fit, the parts were not there, my timing was off. And so instead of living life like a broken clock, I've decided to leave New York for a little while. What will I write about? Is this blog going the way of the snail? No. I'm just taking a little time off from my home-town. I'm going to Italy, where I can breathe for a little while. I can eat well, see well, and drink well. I got this opportunity practically put in my lap without me having to do that much for it. No struggle, just smooth sailing. I'm a little nervous, but somehow, there is a level of calm, that everything can work out there for the next few months. So I'm going with it. NY might hate me still, but Italy loves me. And so this is what I'll be writing about.