Apologies for my absence but I have been getting fodder from my travels. Yes, I was in Italy exploring the world of sex and love, food and wine and vista's and scenery with my husband David. ans our college age son, Matthew. All of those I listed are aphrodisiac's in one way or another. You can't help feeling sexy after devouring plates o mushrooms, stretching mozzarella with your teeth, while sitting on a terrace overlooking a castello. The Italians know this; there are condom vending machines even next to the Vatican. Even in the small Village my family lives in, the condom machine is mounted on a wall in the piazza. From our window, during the last week of our stay I kept count of all the local lovers, whose twist of the handle caused a ratchet sound which echoed off our walls. I counted 52 in one night, and that is in a village of 350. Then there is the wine.
Italy is wasted on beer drinkers. Wine is truly the best Viagra. After a bottle I felt sinfully sexy, nixed any idea of plastic surgery. I began fluffing my hair, batting my mascaraed eyes and speaking with a slight Italian accent to my suave husband, in his fedora and banana hammock- by the private pool at our rental. Actually I bribed him to wear my black jockey microfiber hipsters. Yes I did and as soon as I can bribe him for the photo evidence it will be posted. Anyway, David agreed about the wine thing, said it was an airbrush. I was insulted because he never noticed I shaved my legs and prepped (you know what I mean) for our adventure. My kid noticed it. "Look," he exclaimed. "Mom shaved!"
We went with our two best buddies, Cristiana and Laurie and their kids- they noticed our absences a couple times a day. But Matt shared our room. Of course it was really hard and we couldn't act on all our impulses with him in the next bed. By the way, I did mean that pun and if you don't get it re-read the last sentence. Nevertheless, the car, shower, rolling hills of Tuscany, my aunts bathroom and the swimming pool all provided opportunities. Wine loosens tongues and bras, lubricates the mind and opens up all sorts of fantasy. We had a ball. Best of all, the night I found him in the bathroom showering, and slipped in, telling him I was a hooker, from Rome, I blamed on the bottle of Chianti the following morning.
My theory is this: The test of a great relationship is the vacation. If you can leave the stress of life behind, devour the pleasures of their company, enjoy, your relationship is sound. We came home soo happy.... Oh, have I told you all the things Italians do with olive oil?
I missed you- Dr. Dawn Marlena Hopper. ..or Donatella ...my new name.
Tell me about your love holidays- ---