The Pope's Parting Gift?

I don't actually think I can pin it on the Pope. I believe the catalyst was a magazine article the Chap was reading.

Said he, abruptly last night, "We need to go to Rome."

"Great," I chirped, assuming he meant this year. Then, "But not instead of London."

"No. Not instead of."

He's seen even more of Italy than I've done, and he hasn't even been to Rome. I loved Florence and left a part of my heart in Venice. I've nothing against Rome at all, it's just that it fell lower on the "must experience" scale than the other two.

I'm not sure this constitutes A Plan yet. But a seed was planted. The more I think about Rome, the more I want to go.

But not till after gardening and cottaging season. Oh--and I'm supposed to mount a re-election campaign, too.

Here's a not-very-good video of the girls messing about at the neighbour's dock. Jewel is wading, Ruth is shaking off the water from her swim and squealing, a dog from across the lake is barking.

And the Chap is sporting a t-shirt. Ah, spring!