"A house that is uninhabited falls to pieces." ~ Donata Origo Our group met Donata Origo, Iris Origo's youngest daughter, on a golden day, the breeze tinged with lavender. She greeted us in the stone courtyard of her home, Chiarentana, where at seventy+ years old, she continues to oversee the olive ... Read More about Tending: Part 3 in Stories for the Armchair Traveler
Unfurling: Part Two in Stories for the Armchair Traveler
Our first evening at Villa La Foce, we toured the gardens of Iris and Antonio Origo's estate with our guide Sybilla. Part manicured hedges, part lush blooms, the garden was both contained order and a riot of blowsy color. From La Foce's hilltop view, my eyes traveled over miles of the Val D'Orcia. ... Read More about Unfurling: Part Two in Stories for the Armchair Traveler
Becoming: Part One in Stories for the Armchair Traveler
For most of my childhood, I spent every Friday evening in a tiny mom and pop pizzeria sandwiched between my siblings in a wooden booth. Every week ended at Joseph's Pizza with a plain cheese or pepperoni pie, giving my mom a break from cooking and my dad a break from church-life before the start of ... Read More about Becoming: Part One in Stories for the Armchair Traveler
Making Meaning: Stories for the Armchair Traveler
We met our garden guide, a woman in blue plaid and a broad straw hat, beneath the evergreen oak in the front square of the villa. For decades, this same tree stood as a witness to the buzz of life in the Origo family home, to the passage of seasons, to the march of time across the Tuscan ... Read More about Making Meaning: Stories for the Armchair Traveler
One Important Question to Ask Yourself When You Feel Wounded
I scribbled the question posed by the spiritual director in three different places, so every time I sat down, I'd feel the gentle nudge to think on it. It's a simple question, but I didn't immediately know how to answer it. "How has God been working in your life in recent months?" he'd ... Read More about One Important Question to Ask Yourself When You Feel Wounded
On Watching Our Kids Grow Up
My youngest daughter turned thirteen last week, and we celebrated her with all the simple pleasures she requested. Munchkins for breakfast, spaghetti for dinner, Funfetti for cake-making, a make-up palette called Sweet Peach in a tiny, confetti-strewn gift bag. I captured the day in mental ... Read More about On Watching Our Kids Grow Up
