The Re-Muppeting

So if I read back, I’m sure this is my drone before every trip; how underprepared I am. But I REALLY mean it this time. I had done my usual OCD pre-packing of outfits with pics etc…but this had become a well oiled machine a few years back. It. Is. Not. That. Now.
Its been 3 years since we did a big trip. We did Dominican Republic back in November- but that one was almost like that glass of pepsi you down in a dry hotel room in the middle of the night because you’re so thirsty you’d drink toilet water if it was the only thing available. You know? The packing for that trip was- it if laid eyes on it? It was goin in my suitcase y’all. I took 13 bathing suits. For a 7 day trip. I took 4 pairs of shoes. And nothing with sleeves.
Current packing had to be much different-3 weeks, internationally, space at a premium, things thought about that hadn’t been in years- like will there be a place to do laundry? Will I want to? Should I scrimmage through and find 23 pairs of undies? What about cooking supplies? Can I fit my air fryer in my suitcase? Do I need the frying pan and the tattoo gun? What about the plane?? I treat myself like a 4 year old on the plane. I need to make sure I’m entertained the entire time, because If I get bored I may start acting up. So theres movies, ipads, ipods, iphones, ipills, isnacks, heck I even brought a full sized pillow, in case I need to roofie myself for the greater good.
So I packed. 4 times. And then one more time. And then took 5 things out. And then packed extra splenda for some reason. And then bought another suitcase because I didn’t like the perfectly good one I have. Idk.
Meanwhile at Nicole and Gary’s- Gary was busy doing Gary things (muppet number one things). He went to the grocery for a last minute item, and when he came back he was telling Nicole about a pheasant he hit with his truck on the way home. Ever the bleeding heart, he told Nicole with tears in his eyes that the pheasant had put up a good fight and lived for a bit- but eventually took his last breath just now. She said, “how do you know he just died?”……….”oh. he’s In the truck.” Wait what……?
We meet at 8am and load the car and wonder how in gods name we are going to fit all of this in a rental in Rome…and we havent even picked up Chris yet at work……but we get it all in.
The good news is my therapist says I’m not afraid of flying anymore. I disagree wholeheartedly. But she’s the expert. So….. She did tell me that maybe I should just change the narrative…stop telling people I’m afraid of flying. Tell myself I’m not. And maybe it will be a self fulfilling prophesy. You know what? It worked for the most part. I mean there was still meds….but I was not nearly as nervous as usual. Damn she’s worth every penny.
The flight was kind of uneventful- other then I agree with a friend who posted about his trip to New Orleans last week- I forgot how much the behavior of some people makes me insane! Watching idiotic people open every overhead compartment to fit in their carry on luggage- EVEN THOUGH they are told by everyone around them that the bin is full….this almost makes me snap. But I keep it together-because I love Gary and agreed to bring him.
Oh there was also an incident when Gary’s carry on started to pulse with light like a disco. Now as mentioned I was pretty into the anxiety meds and wine by then, so I wasn’t sure if maybe I was the only one seeing it. I didn’t smell burnt toast, so I assumed I wasn’t having a seizure….but…..i left it alone and didn’t say anything. But, after he and Nicole woke up a few hours later they discovered that the fairy lights Nicole packed had gotten turned on accidentally-or so she says. I’m still not convinced that she didn’t start them for the ambiance-it was their anniversary after all.
And yes, at midnight it was mine and Chris’s 22nd anniversary, up until then Nicole and Gary’s 21st…so somewhere over the Atlantic at exactly 12am Chris arranged for champagne delivery to our Muppet sky lounge. We talk about how it’s a good thing we continued to have faith the world would get back to some kind of new normal and kept booking trips. This one stuck…not so much the trip to Jordan, Greece and Israel that had been slated and cancelled for 2020. Or the big trip to Yarmouth (about 350kms from our house) we planned in 2021….or even the back up trip to a cottage in Windsor (8 minutes from our house) that was booked when the Yarmouth trip fell through-but cancelled when we weren’t even allowed to leave our communities. Sigh. But we kept the faith and booked Italy for 2022- getting in before the prices raised dramatically. And It all came about when we sat in secret, yes, we made sure we were together throughout the entire pandemic….and for our anniversary in 2021 we met at Gary and Nicole’s- and made dinner. Pretended we were on vacation. There were a LOT of tears. Mostly from me. Lol. And as Gary and I did dishes after dinner, Nicole and Chris laid out on the back deck and talked. And Nicole said, “I’m so disheartened, wouldn’t you rather be anywhere else???” and Chris said, “no. not just anywhere. I’d give anything to be in Italy right now. Nicole….I NEED to be in italy. Soon.” And she said….”yes, you’re right. We need to make that happen…”. And the plan was born. Italy was going to happen, no need to discus with the other Muppets, we are in sync. Booked within weeks of that convo. The Muppets will ride again-a full 10 years after their inaugural trip to Italy.
Shortly after that I try to push my tray table up and realize that my middle finger on my right hand has decided to separate from my body. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and although its very well managed long international flights seem to mess with my joints- swelling my hands until they look like someone has inflated two surgical gloves and sewn them to my arms. My finger is sticking off at a pretty good angle and I can tell its out of joint- I show it to Nicole and say “is this normal?”….and she immediately turns pale an cracks up laughing….so I guess not. I know what has to be done…….but first get me off this plane.
We land in Rome and get our Fiat 500L from the rental agency and Gary starts the driving-again second guessing the GPS at every point-As well as trying to put his credit card in the “take a ticket” slot of every toll booth, saying prego (your welcome) to every automated booth, veering wildly for cats in fields and forgetting to use the clutch to gear up or down. I demote Gary from Muppet number 1 to muppet .5, and Just before I decide he’d look nice as a hood ornament, Chris takes over the driving. He puts on his new glasses and off we go. He is convinced he looks like Stanly Tucci (and he does) but he also looks like the old guy on the Soprano’s..and either way Gary can’t quite remember Stanly Tucci’s name- just keeps saying –“you look like someone…..hmm….who is it…..”. Chris excitedly waiting for him to figure it out…..finally he yells “ I REMEMBER!! Sam Tusky!!”. Who the crap is Sam TUsky???? I think he’s getting Harry Potter and Stanly all mixed together. But whatever. Its gonna stick. Sam Tusky it is. Thats his name now. We’ve all decided (except him of course) that this is perfect. Not sure if he likes it better then Keddy Cat or not, but there it is. Done.
After 30 or so minutes of driving I ask Tusky if he can stop at a gas station so I can try to reattach my finger. We do, and after a shot of airline rum, a few deep breaths and a google search of how to swear in Italian, off to the bathroom I go. Finger back in its socket we are away again. Headed toward our tuscan villa in San Gimignano.
We get to the villa, off load, and Nicole and I burst into tears. Its been too long. For everyone I know. And I’m filled with emotion for all the time we’ve lost, and all the time we enjoyed even in the middle of the pandemic- making the best of things even when it seemed at it bleakest….and I remember the videos that circulated when the virus hit Italy first and hardest in April 2020- them confined to their houses, singing out the windows with each other. Chris and I watched that and cried…surly it won’t be us confined soon too….having no idea the years that we’d lose, and that we’d all be in it together sooner then we could imagine. . I promised I’d come back-somehow feeling I was connected to them just because I loved their country so much. And being here, and this tired- we just can’t hold it together, and by the time Tusky and Gary come up from the car they walk into us a sobbing heap in the impossibly small kitchen in the apartment.
We settle in and go to the co-op in search of supplies for me to make bagels in the morning! I’m in my glory at the prospect of cooking here again. But, We’re actually going mostly to pick a fight with the woman who was so rude to us a few trips back for breaking a bottle of wine on the conveyer belt of the checkout. I’m sure she’s long since moved on- but we’re convinced that every woman we see in the store is her, giving them each the stink eye and ready for a very polite Canadian fight where we end up apologizing to her for breaking the bottle. In the end we don’t find her but we get bagel supplies, olives (which never taste the same anywhere else in the world) and lots and lots of wine. Oh, and we find Gary in the cat food isle trying to read the Italian on the back of the cat treats. Nicole is outraged that he would be buying souvenirs for his cats and he rolls his eyes…of course he isn’t! “then why do you need them??”. “well- what if I see a cat I like?”. Direct quote.
We come home and settle in, rearranging our suitcases and getting ready for dinner. Coming down stairs I see that Nicole has exploded. Fairy lights and candles everywhere-it looks like about 15 people are renewing their vows….or trying to raise the dead…or something. Its epic.
We eat at the restaurant here at the agritourismo for our anniversary – with the chef that did our family cooking class back in 2017  and it is absolutely incredible. Our server is the guy who almost kicked us out of Italy for the monster ravioli Gary and I made at said cooking class. Tonight we enjoy Florentine steak- 1 kg of beef- it was at least 1 ¾ inches thick and heavenly, beef carpaccio, and wild bore tagliatelle. An amazing Brunello from here at the resort. Then back to the room for more wine, the rum we bought at the duty free in Toronto, and talks about our feelings. Oh and drunken Muppet tattoos.
Gary demands a tattoo drawn on him on every trip-so I bought this silly tattoo ink stuff that stays on for 2-3 weeks after you let it set overnight, and I draw him one, actually drawing one on all of us. Each with an Indian unalome symbol for the journey of life…all scroll-y and delicate on each of our wrists. I Do question whether we should wait until the morning when better decisions can be made, but thats not our style. So out it comes, and more rum, and I can’t wait to see how this turns out in the morning when it develops- it has to sit, undisturbed for an hour or so……not sure how I thought that would end up well…more on that later.
Off to bed for our first full day tomorrow. Everyone exhausted.
Day two and in perfect Muppet style the wheels are falling off…or at least spinning the wrong way. After a nice sleep in, I get up to make the bagels…only to find out that during our rant filled hunt for the rude cashier I forgot the flour. So no bagels for us today. I wait while the other Muppet’s get out of bed…one by one coming down the stairs- and all of a sudden I remember how bloody annoying Gary is in the morning. Wait, let me back track. First Nicole comes down and tells me that she tried to get out of their room in the night but Gary had locked them in and lost the key. (old villa, keys for every door)-it was dark and she couldn’t wake him up. It was a whole thing. I’m pretty sure she tried to open the door with his face, because when he comes down the stairs he looks like he went a few rounds with Tyson…I think it might be the rum….but then I realize that these idiots got tattoos, and then went to bed and curled up like tiny babies, hands and wrists tucked in and all over their faces. So guess what else is…..tattoos. yup. More Tyson like then I thought, they each have the outline of a tattoo on their face-that will be there for at least 3 weeks. Sigh. You can lead a Muppet to water but you can’t make it think. And actually Nicole’s tattoo looks like she got it and then dragged her wrist up the stairs, beat it about a few times, and then let Gary lick it. I mean it was PERFECT when I did it. (I’m not going to mention that I have tattoo outlines all over my right boob and knee. Because I don’t remember how that happened…and I’m afraid Chris will tell me).
So yes, then Gary starts with his morning routine. First- a HUGE glass of milk. I swear to you he licks it up. Like a bloody cat. And I’m from now on calling it “gary’s pissed off morning milk”. He Gets his milk, while we say nothing, and loudly rants “YES I’M HAVE A GLASS OF MILK”, like we are going to make him spit It back in the cup?? Like he’s professing his right to love milk. And then there’s the noises….growls and burps sighs and grunts. I expect to see a hair ball appear at any moment. Then a black coffee and a loud AHHHHHHHH after every sip. And then a huge glass of pepsi-explaining hes super thirsty. Like dude W A T E R????? ever heard of it??????
After we have chocolate for breakfast (insert rolling eyes here- I’m an idiot)- we get all ready and leave for the town of San G for the morning. We shop at all the usual haunts, and you can tell the shop owners are excited that the tourism industry is picking back up. And I think we are single handedly paying for the past 2 years they missed. Chris getting his unsanctioned pizza (pizza we get without asking Nicole if we’re allowed to eat). Its epic, and she gives in and gets one too.
I get a new work bag, and the others some odds and ends. At one point Chris points out finds a very tiny speedo- which he calls a budgie smuggler- and Gary LIGHTS UP!! A WHAT?? I WANT IT!! FOR MY CATS!!! There’s a real awkward pause while we explain to Gary what a budgie smuggler is…and that he may not want to encourage his cats to play with it.
We head to the coop and get supplies for dinner and a picnic for tomorrow. Then we spend the afternoon at a wine tasting- lovely treats for us to eat in among the wine barrels and 4 delicious wines- and that’s when it hits home. We do stupid crap when we drink wine. The tattoos. And now, we have somehow purchased wine to send home- 6 pristine bottles of the best brunello I’ve ever tasted, 2 empty wine boxes, 2 HUGE WINE CARAFES, a wine glass that we may or may not have stolen, a bunch of honey that very literally tastes like a barnyard and a box of 10 lts of wine. I close my eyes as I hand over the visa- realizing that we need to designate one responsible muppet before we drink wine. Or we’re going to end up at home with 16 cypress trees, 2 budgie smugglers and a bag of beavers. Except NONE of us are responsible Muppets. Anyone want to accompany us next time as our DM? Designated Muppet?
After the wine tasting, we come home for dinner and my favorite part….cooking in tuscany. I make Bacon pasta and Nicole twirls it around her fork like she loves. She makes salad, and I have to find an excuse to go up stairs- and have a good cry. I can’t get myself together. I’m so happy. And I haven’t said that a lot in the past year. Its been a tough one. There are some things on the horizon that are heavy. And some things in the past 2 years that were heavy. And I need help to carry it all. I am breaking sometimes in my day to day. Losing my footing and my perspective. And this? These 3 humans and this trip….they are piecing me back together. And making my shoulders wider and picking up the pieces of me and carrying them, telling me not to worry- they have me, reminding me the finish line isn’t the goal, the journey there is. So I take a minute to appreciate it- mostly by sobbing. But I get it back together, and come back downstairs and enjoy tonights journey. Tomorrow will add another layer, another memory to get me though. And I can’t wait.
Sleep well my people. I love you all.