When David and I were in Assisi on our sabbatical year 10 years ago a couple friends from Denver came to visit. The four of us, along with David's then young children, took a little trip. The six of us in a rather large car drove down to Rome, Naples, then on to the Amalfi Coast. It was a wonderful trip with dear friends and family. On the way back to Assisi we passed through the historical town of Herculaneum.
Herculaneum is the forgotten sibling of Pompeii. Another prosperous Roman city that was destroyed by that little volcano Vesuvius incident in 79ad. Ok, a town is "destroyed" by a wild fire or maybe a tornado. This town, like Pompeii was not destroyed, it was decimated. Killed. Wiped out completely. Vesuvius's molten lava covered it totally.
Unlike Pompeii, Herculaneum was pristinely preserved. Well, as pristine as hot lava can do. At Herculaneum you wander the streets of the now excavated town. You can enter into the houses - houses of the rich with beautiful mosaics still visible and the houses of the poor with the communal food pots still in place.
Our little group of tourists did a guided tour. It was off season so we had our guide to ourselves. It was a gray day with a light rain misting the air and exemplifying our experience.
At one point pal Johnny and I were admiring the main pool of the Roman baths of the city. We were standing next to one another in that wonderful silence that is demanded when viewing and experiencing a historical wonder - contemplating life, lives before you and mortality in general. Johnny turned to me, looked at me for a while and then, in a voice that seemed to cut right through the rain pelting us and was, if I must say, much harsher than the experience and scene called for said, "I can't believe you are traipsing around Europe in your pajamas."
Now let's just stop for a second and view the facts of this situation.
Being as I was on sabbatical and therefore spending carefully doled money on travel, experiences, and, well, food and rent, I had not been investing in the latest Italian fashion. I was, on said day (and if I'm honest, every day of the sabbatical year) donning some clothes that had been purchased for the most part just before leaving the States. The outfit under scrutiny was: an over sized handknit wool sweater, "the boots", a hat purchased for me by my mom on a previous trip to Bellagio (it had rained then, too) and, here we come to the jammies part, a pair of mustard yellow CP Shades wide-legged, elastic waisted pants in a curtain-like floral embroidered fabric that looked a little like, well, pjs.
I've been thinking about Johnny all day as I was "traipsing around Europe" in a friend's discarded bed sheet that I potato printed last night with blue stars and made into a skirt this morning.
I don't know what Johnny would have said but Das Needle ladies had nothing but praise for my ingenuity ... and fabulous fashion sense.
Ok, maybe not, but they were complimentary all the same. They can appreciate the process.
So, sporting, not jammies but a sheet, I spent a lovely day with the girls and our needles.
I would like to thank compatriot, Tom who is visiting Mette and (her husband) Teddy and who was more than kind to take the photos for this post since I forgot my camera.
On a completely unrelated note, I'd like to direct all OliveKnitting readers to Tom's website ... , as well as a YouTube video shared with me by Tom that is a must-see - that is if you are into Japanese pipemakers who play bluegrass.
Life continues to be interesting in Maberga.