I've just come back from watching Grace play tennis.  Her lessons started up again today.  This morning began very autumn-like, with cold fog and low temps.  I left the house with a jacket and tights, all geared to fall mode.  When we left school at 3:30, the sun had come out and it was 72 degrees.  It was gorgeous at the courts and I think I got a little of my tan back!  Tennis is so graceful.  It's also one of those sports that I can actually feel while I'm watching it.  I feel like I should be able to make those swings and hold the racket just so.  Unfortunately when I actually play, I prove myself wrong.  Alas.  But I do love to watch.  Grace plays with 3 boys.  Nic is German and in her class at school.  He's adorable.  Grace says he looks like Teddy Roosevelt but that's just the glasses that are actually overly large as opposed to TR's that were overly small.  The other two boys are Italian; Frankie very tall and goofy, Edo, small and intense.  She loves being the only girl.  Says teenage girls irritate her.  Wait till she's my age.  I mentioned before that her lessons are at a club up in the hills with beautiful views out over the countryside. (They are on the backside of the hills where we live on the front facing the city.)  It's a great place to spend an hour once a week and I wish I too could take lessons, but unfortunately our fortunes only allow up 1 person's lessons at this time.

Oh, and listen to this.  I had to look it up on line because I found it so shocking.  When we went up Mont Blanc the other day I used the bathroom at the very top, (over 10,000 feet).  While washing my hands I glanced in the mirror, usually a mistake, and almost died on the spot.  My always saggy face was heading south big time.  I looked like an elderly Chinese man, there was so little eye showing.  My always jowly jowls were hanging somewhere around my waddle which was down near my knees.  Amazing!  I almost didn't recognize myself.  As I mentioned, I checked on line for the effects of altitude on sagging but got no valid explanations.  Must have just been me.  When I used the bathroom in the restaurant down at base camp, I was back to my regular sagginess.

I just read an article about a new tax here.  In one paragraph they mentioned six different taxes with six different acronyms.  I have no idea what it said.  One tax replaces another which in turn had replaced another.  Italians love their bureaucracy.  If they can complicate things, make it long winded and  paper filled, they feel realized.  Wow.  Gotta say I'd never make it here on my own.  xxoo me