An Evening for Chamomile.

An Evening for Chamomile.

My birthday evening ended early: dinner, tears, desert, un flautista della via, a postprandial walk, a dance in Piazza della Repubblica, a glass of sangria with four lovely ladies.

Wine can't fix bad group dynamics. It sometimes just brings out caustic humor.


But I loved this, after a stressful dinner with people that should not eat together:

I like to believe there is always something lovely if you keep looking.


If you don't find it, maybe it's you?

It is time for bed. More tomorrow.