We left the sunny, blue skies in Florence and headed north to Venice on an early morning Eurostar train. As we traveled north, the skies became grayer and the sun slowly disappeared. When we walked out of the Santa Lucia train station and looked out on the Canal Grande, we didn't care that it was cloudy or even much colder. We had arrived in Venice--a place so enchanting that weather has no affect on its beauty.

After being woken up by a bright sun shining in our room early this morning, I decided to go shopping toward the Co-op in via Gioberti. Because I haven't seen my friend Yoshie in months and her newborn Lorenzo, who is now 6 months old, I called to see if I could pop by to visit them both.

These past few weeks I have noticed that the more I talk with the guys at the mercato, the more they talk to me about their other clienti (customers). They don't tell me their names or tell me anything about them like what they do for a living or where they live, but they do make it clear to me who they like and who they don't like.

It wasn't as hard for me to get up the next day to go to school. I was the first one to breakfast and Rea sat next to me eating quietly. I tried to talk to her, but we didn't have much to say to each other. I wondered if I should wake up the girls as I served myself another cup of caffè, but maybe they need to sleep off their drinks from last night. Right before I left the house, I heard Catherine rummaging in her room, so I felt it was OK for me to leave.

Claudia, Catherine, and I walked down via Lamarmora toward Piazza Libertà. We were all excited about going to Parterre. I was the most excited since it was the first time I had been out since I arrived. It didn't seem that late at night, but no one else was walking outside on the sidewalk except us. As we were crossing the viale, it felt like everyone's eyes in the cars waiting at the light were on us. One guy yelled something out at us, but I couldn't understand him. Claudia must have understood because she said something under her breath and hurried us along.

I asked the guys at the place where I buy formaggio, prosciutto, latte, burro, salame, and uova (eggs) what they consider themselves as I can't find the right name to describe them. Sometimes I call them a latteria because I used to only buy milk from them. Then, I started calling them a gastronomia because that covered formaggio and prosciutto. So, I never know what to call the place I go to every time I go to the mercato.

The sun shined brightly this morning when I left to go to the mercato. It has been in hiding most days for the past week; the clear, sunny mornings keep ending abruptly by lunchtime. I can't wait for spring to truly be here. Even though the sun was out today, it was pretty windy and I was happy I did have my wool scarf tightly wrapped around my neck.

Lunch yesterday ended up being uneventful. I wouldn't say successful even though I was able to say that I wanted a panino and point at exactly the one that I wanted. I ordered another one to go for dinner because I knew I wouldn't want to go back out once I got home. The apartment I'm living in is just close enough to centro to be able to go, but just far enough where if I'm not motivated to go, it seems too far.

This morning Dave and I realized that it's l'ora legale/estiva (daylight savings time). We only found out because our computers update themselves automatically. I had been sick with a cold all last week and hadn't been out of the house in a week and hadn't even gone to the mercato in almost 9 days! Dave has been going to Standa to go shopping for us. I've been missing my trips to the mercato and couldn't wait to go there today.

I woke up early because I went to sleep without dinner last night. I didn't feel like going back out after my afternoon nap. I didn't hear anyone in the house, but when I opened my door, I found Signora G. in the kitchen alone sipping on her coffee. She looked up at me and invited me to join her.

I walked around the busy streets of downtown Florence today. The hot, sticky air followed me everywhere. To find respite, I ducked into a building, which I realized was a church. There were no signs hanging outside and no tourists walking around inside. I sat down in one of the wooden chairs and took in my surroundings. The church doesn't have a crucifix above the altar and is not very well-lit. The pièce de résistance is a tabernacle with the Madonna col bambino.

When we went to Rome a little over a month ago, I had an allergic reaction to something in the air. When we were on the bus, an American woman behind me was talking and said, "I must be allergic to Rome, I haven't stopped sneezing since I got here." When I heard that, I figured, I must be allergic to something in Rome as well.

There are some things I believe in and other things that I do not. I try not to believe in some things because I don't want them to be true. I used to think that writer's block was a myth because any time I'd stop writing, there would be a good reason. Now, I admit that I have been experiencing writer's block, but I think I have good reason.

Today was the first time that an out-of-town visitor contacted me from my blog to meet up. Carmen, a vibrant and bubbly Spanish woman who lives in Chicago, emailed me a while back to tell me that she was going to be studying in Florence for a few weeks. I was delighted when she asked to meet up with me. I was even happier that her plan was to visit my favorite church, San Miniato.

What do three expats do when they get together in Florence? They go and eat Chinese food! Cristina Fassio (from Expats in Italy), Beth O'Connor and I were planning on eating sushi for our first incontro (meeting), but all the sushi places in downtown Florence either don't serve lunch or were closed today for lunch.