first day in Milan

 It was pouring all day in Milan, but we had stuff to do - Brucie and I set off after breakfast. Here's a scene in the metro - could be anywhere -

but this could not. Here's the ornate Duomo - makes Notre Dame's look like a simple undecorated facade.

We went to the top floor of the Rinascente department store nearby, where you can see the Duomo up close. Can you see the detail? Incredible.

Shoes made of chocolate are everywhere.

 The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. Not for shopping, way too chichi - just for walking through out of the rain.

 La Scala! I went in just to see - Bruce did not, he'd already seen the theatre and an opera in it; they were mounting a show, doing lights and sets. A jewel box, as they say. We did ask about tickets for La Cenerentola tomorrow - 200 euros to start. So, no. Instead we stopped for a quick lunch by the Duomo - pasta, of course - and then -

we went to two museums, the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana and the Castello Sforzesco. In the first, we saw this glorious Botticelli, Madonna of the Pavillion, and the Cartoon for the School of Athens by Raphael; the final product is in the Sistine Chapel. A stunning masterpiece.

And in the other, room after room of beautiful things - paintings, ceramics, musical instruments. It's a vast palace full of treasure. The Italians invented beauty.

No, they didn't, but they sure have it and know it. Even in the rain, I was gazing at both men and women, the style and flare. But finally, it was cold and wet, and at around 4, we took the metro home.

Oh yes, in the middle of the Castello, my phone buzzed - another frantic text from Nicole, more water flooding the basement. So while Bruce watched a film about where the Michaelangelo sculpture used to be, I was texting Toronto, finding a plumber. By the time we left the museum, he was on his way. It looks like I need a new sump pump. My son has arranged for someone to take over at his work so he can go to the house and take up the rug in the basement, which is soaked.

It never ends.

And when we got home, I spent 20 minutes writing a letter to the Globe cancelling my subscription. I saw they had a column comparing Trudeau to Trump. Enough is enough.

I am in Milan, and yet I am still home. How far do I need to go?