It's getting late-ish...

Hmm. 1:23 a.m.
I think I was a vampire in another life... or perhaps a bat.
I am doing laundry, listening to Stargate SG1, and attempting to sort through various receipts for taxes. Ugg.
I wonder what you are all up to at this hour... those of you on this continent no doubt are nestled snug in your beds sleeping... what most rational people do at this hour.
My friends across the world, though, what time is it for you? My dear niece will be in her Dinan classroom attempting to coerce teenagers to expand their grasp of the English language. It is... let's see, 9:27 a.m. for her in France.
I want to post some photos soon. But as I only just managed to get the links to your blogs on my site, I think I will give it a day or two more before I get that adventurous. I think it would be easier on my MacIntosh upstairs in my office, but I do not feel like going up there just now. It is above the garage, and it is dark and chilly out there. Took the garbage out a bit ago and that was enough of that air for tonight... or this morning... or whatever it is.
So in the spirit of the tags I read on your blogs before I became more blog-prolific... I ask you all this:
if you could spend a year in any country in the world, all expenses paid andwith the ability to have your loved ones visit, where would you go, what would you do there and why would you choose that particular spot?
I'll start. (This year would be all about me, brought on my the fact I am very weary these days, and if I were to do another year, it would all be about social work in impoverished countries, but this one would gird my loins for that next one). This is also assuming my darling children have graduated and left the nest.

It would be Italy, because I think in another life I was Italian. I would go on my own, not because I do not love my partner, but because I think it would be good for me to discover more about myself in solitude and peace. I have a strange desire to do so one day. And of course, as part of the parametres, he could visit ever so often... (not every so often, but ever so often!)
I would travel all over the place and shoot endless photographs, and write a book finally. I would learn Italian, and grow a lovely garden with herbs and vegetables, have lots of cats (well, not too many), and be eccentric and odd and have lots and lots of dinner gatherings to share stories. And to create those dinners, I would visit with ancient old Italian grandmothers and beg them to teach me their recipes.
A very self indulgent fantasy... am I terrible?

Who's next?