Not Rome, Georgia. Not Rhome, Texas. But Roma. The Eternal City. Like where the Pope lives (sort of, if you call Vatican City part of Rome). And you can eat gelato and great pasta and think about the Gallic Wars. And The Aeneid and all that Latin homework I blew off my senior year.
Semper ubi. Sub ubi. I always say. Especially in Rome.
Unfortunately this is a whirlwind business trip. Just long enough to eat some local cuisine, drink a little vino and--hopefully--buy a pair of Italian shoes. I'm still trying to figure out the in-flight knitting situation, yes or no; a plug for the laptop; yarn shops in Rome,dove?, and how in heaven I'm going to finish all the work once I get home.
Non fa niente. I'm going to Rome!