a tribute to Bruce

And so it is - dark clouds and rain this morning, as we head off to a spot famous for its hikes and boat rides to see the view. But as I just wrote to Bruce, our sunny dispositions will get us through. How lucky we've been so far with the weather - it has been perfect. Not a complaint. My hotel was wonderful - very small, inexpensive and unpretentious, and the quiet location far away from the heaving mass of central Florence. I loved crossing the river at night and in the morning, seeing those bridges, the magnificent skyline, the crowds at a distance, the rowers on the Arno. I have loved everything about my stay here.

And I am ready to go home. One more week and a bit. Students are sending essays for me to edit for the next So True reading May 31, and both Ryerson and U of T classes are a go - hard to believe that I start teaching the week after my return. I instant message with Anna most nights, she sends daily photos and videos of Booboo, and through FB I keep up with lots of friends. Remember when travelling meant actually leaving home?

Now to close the behemoth bag and drag it through the narrow cobbled streets to the train station. More than anything, this week has been a tribute to friendship, to kind friends, to one very kind, interesting, thoughtful friend, my Bruce, a true soulmate. Not only our initials are the same; we share thoughts and feelings about many things. Not everything - we do spend money differently, and I have had it with virgins and dead Christs, no matter how skillfully painted, tho' BK never tires. But in the fundamentals, we are linked.

He gives to us all the incredible gift of his time and expertise. Luckily he comes every year to Toronto, and there's always a bedroom for him, and a hot meal or two. It's the only way I can repay what he gives. Well, that, and constant exclamations of joy.