Monday, January 5, 2009

I Can Take A Breath . . .

Pete and I are just back from Kennedy Airport, where we put Clara on a plane to Zurich. She'll meet up with a friend there and they will catch another plane to Florence. She will spend the entire semester studying abroad, the lucky girl. She'll have so much fun -- the Ufizi, the olive oil, the handsome Italian men! Oh, no, what have I done? She'll either come back fat or married!

I've got to get to sleep, since her check-in call from Zurich will come around 5 am . . . and obviously, I'm not breathing enough to think straight . . .

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