i grew up in kellogg, idaho, a small mining town in the northern panhandle of the state. i moved away when i was 18 years old, visiting now and then over the next many years. in the spring of 2013, i moved back to my hometown until my relocation to italy last october.

our expectations are not always our reality, are they? after only 10 months away, i wasn’t expecting to experience much difference upon reentry. but many factors have been at play in the past few days, combining to create a strangeness i can’t really define as anything other than reverse culture shock:

• missed flights and jet lag
• new friends, gained through airport hassles
• one night in london, a whirlwind tour
• “collateral beauty,” a film that received no accolades but touched me deeply
• my dad’s prepared gift from italy, two vacuum-packed salamis, confiscated by u.s.

It is time once again for THE ARRIVAL. I am formally inviting you, the woman with the intrepid soul, to join me in Tuscany this October. And I sincerely hope you will accept my invitation.

Why? Because I want you to stop imagining your best life, and begin living it instead.

how does one even begin to process a realized dream?
a dream many years in the making?
a dream many revisions later?

the consummation of my grand scheme all coming together.
played out in an enchanting 100-year-old villa, in a northern italian village,
against a backdrop of majestic mountains and a magnolia tree.

early (very early) morning train.
transferring to the metro.
losing our way (more than once).
the sistine chapel.
st. peter’s square.
walking, walking, walking (seven miles).
the so-called “hop on, hop off” bus.
a hot hot hot day.
the roman colosseum.