Italy

I want to go to Italy. I want to walk up this road, feel the gravel under my feet, touch those funky shaped trees, inhale the smells, soak up the sun and just be in Italy.

Of course there's the food. Ever since I read, "Eat, Pray, Love" I've wanted to eat my way through Italy. Pizza, pasta, sauces, cheese, and all the things I don't even know about and can't even imagine.

It's non-sensical. Why would I want to go to Italy? I can't afford it. What woman goes on a trip by herself simply because she wants to? I know women do it, but not women like me. Not Mennonite women who are good housekeepers and who live on farms.  I have no purpose in going. It wouldn't be mission related. I don't want to take blankets to an orphanage, teach Italian women the ways of an Mennonite wife, or even dig a well. I simply want to go because I can. Well, I can't but I could....well, you know what I mean.

To me Italy seems selfish. How could I possibly justify it?

Why can't I leave it alone, tell myself it's not going to happen, go outside, take in my little farm world and be completely happy?

I don't know.

I'll keep trying.