A day of packing and organizing and planning. Five adults and a toddler can spread out a lot in a couple weeks. Apparently I slept through a storm the night before—thunder, lightning and much needed rain—which turned the day’s sky pure blue, blew away all the haze, and took the temperatures down to normal.

Of course there’s time for racing, for Mario Cart—and a finished puzzle. Kat left me the last four pieces because she’s the best dil in the history thereof.

We have to be out of the bedrooms by nine for the cleaning crew to start, so packing’s pretty essential. And we have to plan our agenda for rental car return, customs stamps for tax back and so on.

Also essential is our traditional family panorama. Griffin’s not much interested in this tradition so we play slide the cars while Jason and Kat plan it out. Then he just runs around while we’re doing our thing.

There’s time to sit out, enjoy the view which never fails to relax, even when Mario Cart and the Switch must be packed up.

We take our last trip into Barbarino for dinner, aiming for Bijou where we’ve enjoyed dining in and take out a few times. As we sit, street side, a gorgeous classic car—I don’t think a Rolls but something like—top down streams by. Going the wrong way on the little one-way street.

In the back are unquestionably a bride and groom. They stop not far past us as a car coming the right way hastily backs up.

The bride steps out in her stunning fairy tale frothy strapless dress, hair up, crowned with little flowers. And she is not happy. She is the picture of The Pissed-Off Bride.

There’s some discussion—a photographer loaded with his gear hops out of a car. Then The Pissed-Off Bride strides alone down the street, her frothy hem and lovely train dragging in the dust. Shortly after, the groom in his handsome gray tux follows. And from around the corner, more discussion, louder discussion in rapid Italian.

I assume since the couple rode together in the fancy car the wedding already happened. This may be their first marital spat, or perhaps they’re united in their pissed-off status aimed elsewhere.

Meanwhile our delightful server takes our orders. Pizzas for Kayla, Jason and me. Tagliatelle with fungi for Kat and BW. Hot dog and fries for Griffin. Some salads.

Music starts up from somewhere, so I hope the Pissed-Off Bride is now The Happy Bride and dancing with her man.

The pizza’s marvelous, and I’ll miss it. Griffin’s hot dog is actually four hot dogs (they come on a sandwich, but they leave off the bread at Kat’s direction. He ate all of them. They’re not huge, but still. Four dogs.

We all thoroughly enjoy our last dinner in Tuscany. And some of us enjoy the complimentary limoncello after.

The sky’s pretty but lacks drama tonight following the pure blue sky day. And we head back for cappuccino in our kitchen and some of the teramisu Kat and Jason bought for BW’s and my anniversary.

Kayla and Griffin have a game filled with wild laughter. She is just so sweet with him, and he is so in love with her. They’ve bonded drum-tight over these three weeks.

But bedtime comes as bedtime must.

This morning Chain Saw Man is silent. I like to think he knows we’re leaving and is sorry to see us go so can’t drag himself to work.

The cleaning crew’s already busy. We have a couple of hours left before our car—the one to take BW, Kayla, me, the luggage to the airport—arrives. We’ll try to limit ourselves to the kitchen and dining room to stay out of their way.

It’s been fabulous, absolutely perfectly fabulous. Family, fun, food, wine, shopping, art, culture, views, adventures, relaxing and racing. I’m grateful to have had this time to spend in such beautiful places with people I like and enjoy as much as love.

But now the time approaches to say Arrivederci to Italy, and grazie.

Nora