I saw Enchanted April for the first time yesterday.
I'm afraid that the scene wherein the ladies wake to see the castle in Italy for the first time made me very sad.
I had to make a decision: continue with the movie? change the channel and forget about Italy?
I chose to watch. It's a lovely little movie and I liked it very much. But those scenes on the terrace, overlooking the sea, well, they were difficult for me to watch without emotion.
Never mind. It just firms my resolve to return. (Note to K: can you figure out the air miles?) (Note to Europe: will you PLEASE do something about that Euro situation?)
Paola emailed last week that she was in Rome! Attending the ballet!
I'm telling you, she is just as glamorous as she sounds.
I haven't been to the ballet in a long time.
When I was very small, I had ballet lessons. As little girls do.
I remember very little of it. I do remember the outfit. Of course.
I always remember the outfits.
I don't think I had any interest in actual dancing.
I'm not graceful, or musical or lithe.
But I made sure I had a pink tutu, which surprises me now as I am not girl-y in the slightest.
I enjoy watching ballet for a certain length of time, and then, my mind tends to wander. I find myself focusing on a particular dancer, watching to find him or her after costume changes...
marveling at their musculature...
hiding a smirk during particularly dramatic moments, and trying to figure out which character I would be cast as.
No, I don't think I'd be the jester.
I'm pretty sure I'd be one of those women with the strange hats.