Lunedi

In writing about Sunday I am finding it hard to believe that we actually did all that, but the photos bear it out. So, on Monday, not entirely surprisingly, Anselm’s incredible energy and fortitude left him and he had to spent most of the day in bed. Eliot and Blaise went out on an animal mission, then it was time for Blaise to start for the airport for two days in Graz. We all went to see him off at Piazzale Roma where we found.. another playground!

Back home by boat; then we tossed the tennis ball in the campo and made a simple dinner of pasta and salad, which was gratefully received (plain pasta for Eliot, but Anselm discovered a taste for Italian rucola).

Today, the kids and I set out on a picnic expedition to the islands. I had hoped for Torcello, but it is a quite a long trip (boat transfers chewed up a lot of the morning time) so we decided to stop at the fabled “glass island” of Murano, the idea of which had clearly been enchanting Anselm. Along with many visits to glass shops, which the kids loved and were thankfully reasonable about (Anselm very, very carefully chose his one, simple new animal; Eliot’s mild clamoring for yet more animals was settled by ice cream), we also visited two remarkable churches—one, with a Bellini painting I like, and the other, with a fabulous golden mosaic dome and beautiful mosaic floors. We had our picnic of bread and olive oil, tomatoes and peppers, and before closing with ice cream and the return boatride, stopped for a glass blowing demonstration which enthralled them both, particularly a dramatic moment when the glasier blew a huge bubble of glass and smashed it right at our feet. The very, very thin glass had a peculiar feel, like plastic, and seemed to be no threat to anyone’s fingers.

We optimistically hopped off the boat at San Marco but saw more long queues, so we mostly got tireder, but the kids enjoyed the pigeon-hunting. After picking up some extra supplies for dinner (zucchini flowers!) on the walk home from our last boat trip of the day, we went down to the garden to play a little. We again met the other family (5 boys, ages 7 through 14), and they invited Anselm to join them playing football in the campo. Eliot and I played outside a little more, then prepared dinner and went to pick him up. He was not unhappy to join us, as the 7 year old, it was reported, was “not a good sport”. Seems Anselm was better with American football (on his first try) than was expected, by him or the other kid. We had a great little meal, with my prosecco!, and then wandered back out to the campo for dessert and more play, with an accordionist and guitarist providing a Felliniesque backdrop to our evening.





Not our usual Venetian trajectory (although no complaints about meals) but Anselm at least has been in delight the whole time (except when shut down from overtiredness). Eliot finds travel hard. She’s been accommodating, but not joyful; it is an effort for her, and she misses home, Patricia, her routine. She does need to know exactly what is what. Although she gave up on “Let’s just go home to Seattle!”, she is constantly coming up with little ploys.. “I have three dolphins at home—can we go and get them?”. She reassures me that she will like traveling more when she is a little bigger.. about my size, maybe. Ice cream has been a big help.