After much bureaucratic wrangling, Jonathan was finally allowed to take the written part of the Italian Driver's License Test this morning in Lucca. He has been preparing for the test by memorizing all the various road rules, road signs, marked and unmarked speed limits, etc. and as we drive around in town he has been pointing out all the many different ways that the drivers around here are regularly and shamelessly flouting the law. We have started turning to each other and saying "Citizen's arrest! Citizen's arrest!" like we're in an episode of the Andy Griffith Show.

But I am happy to report that he passed the written test this morning with flying colors and now gets to begin taking the practical on-street driving lessons. This should be fun.

 In the book that I am writing about our life here, I am calling the pub "L'Arcobaleno" -- "The Rainbow."

 Aiden and Meghan's baby has arrived -- a month early and very small, but breathing on his own and in general being a champ. He didn't cry when he was born, but, as Aiden said, "took it straight." 

They are all still in the hospital, hoping to be able to go home in not too many more days. I offered, of course, to fly there immediately, but for now the three of them are happy just being their own new little family. And Aiden is sending lots of pictures, none of which I am allowed to post anywhere public. So here is a picture of him instead.

I remember a thousand moments of his baby- and childhood -- a thousand moments that he doesn't remember now, but that I will never forget. He was my little boy and now he has a little boy of his own. Time passes and we all grow up. But there is a tiny part of me that lives forever in his childhood.

Driver's License Update: 

To recap, Jonathan has a valid Swiss driver's license, which -- BY INTERNATIONAL TREATY -- can be exchanged for an Italian driver's license. We tried to do this exchange for about TWO YEARS. 

We failed. 

A rather fussy man in an office in Lucca refused (repeatedly) to grant Jonathan an Italian driver's license because the Swiss one came from exchanging an American license. So Jonathan eventually was reduced to having to take driving lessons, written and practical, with every teenager in Pietrasanta. He is the only one in class who ever takes notes.

The instructor at Jonathan's driving school told him on Wednesday that someone dropped out and there was an opening to take the written test next week and that Jonathan could sign up if he wanted. Jonathan, who has been studying very assiduously, said he would like to go ahead and take the test. 

On Thursday, Jonathan had to have his eyes officially checked and present an official photograph of himself and fill out many official forms and pay many official fees.

On Friday, the driving school entered his name into "the system" to register for the test this coming week. All should be good.

But, no. 

"The system" has now flagged Jonathan as an "anomaly" because he already has a Swiss license (which "the system" knows about from his previous attempt to exchange it) and so should not have to take the test, but merely exchange his license. In fact, he is not allowed to take the test next week. Maybe ever.

We are having fun.

Three mornings a week, Jonathan goes to town and takes classes for the Italian driver's license test while I stay home and write. If the weather is nice, he goes on his bike, but on rainy days, he takes the car. He says it makes him feel awkward to drive up to his driving lessons, but that's where we are now. He will take the written test in a couple of weeks and then he gets to begin his practice driving, which should be fun. The driving school has special practice cars with brakes on the passenger's side for the instructor to use as well as on the driver's side. My boys took driving lessons in cars like that back in Colorado. I remember Aiden having one session with a clearly spooked instructor who had spent one too many hours with teenagers learning how to merge onto a highway at high speed by doing it. "Well," Aiden said when I picked him up, "I was just a passenger in that car." I think about that man sometimes now and hope he is doing well.

Next week we will go to Viareggio to sign another one-year rental contract for this house. We came here thinking that it would only be for a few months. That was three years ago.

But the fourth year will be the last. We began last night to look on the on-line real estate sites for houses around here to buy. One of them was described as "rustic" and, from the pictures, was lacking a roof. I would have called that "very rustic." We never thought we would own a house again, but it looks like we were wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

Jonathan had another out-patient operation on Friday to remove a lump under his left arm to be biopsied. We stopped by the pub on our way to the hospital to show Daniele and Alice the t-shirts we had made with my drawing of the pub on them. Daniele offered us a coffee but we told them we couldn't stop because we were on the way to the hospital for Jonathan to have a lump removed.

"Another one?" Alice said to me. "You're going to have to get a new husband."

"Not now," I said. "Not when I've got this one almost perfected."

Jonathan had local anesthesia so that he was awake for the procedure itself. They carefully draped a curtain, though, between his eyes and his arm.

"Do you put the curtain there because people get scared if they look?" he asked the surgeon.

"Oh, no," the surgeon said. "We don't want you to see what we're doing because then you would just do it yourself the next time."

It turns out that we needed some headshots. These things happen.