It has been a week since I came to Italy to help my friend Laurie (whom I met through blogging) navigate creating a pied-à-terre. My friend and her cousins bought a property divided into three apartments in the center of an old village between Rome and Naples. Though the apartment has been renovated, several changes and decisions exist mainly due to personal taste.
We walked through the four sunlit rooms and decided what each room should be:
Kitchen, bedroom, dining room, living room.
We made a checklist of things that needed to be done.
We looked at tiles, paint colors, and appliances.
We imagined the flow of those four rooms.
We talked to the team that will do the work.
We talked about the budget.
Currently, there are no photos to share or the village's name.
Though one day, when things are more settled, I will share.
The joy it is to dream up and create, the stress brought on by managing elements that go with the process, and the challenge of doing this in a foreign country.
No, I do not speak Italian, but my head is full of sounds not native to my inner voice.
Pasta has been on my plate more than once.
We drove to Naples with her cousin at the wheel. Beyond insane imagination and with Google map encouraging us, we drove through narrow streets. I prefer to call canyons and roads or riverbeds flowing with people who didn't blink an eye at our big car stuffed with five people. Laurie's cousin John drove down those impossible and most likely illegal city streets, saying, "I'm not comfortable." Meanwhile, I was amused by it in the back middle seat with the perfect unbelievable view of the road less traveled; by car.
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We will return in Autumn, maybe sooner, to make the space a home.
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