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April 3, 2004
I want to go to Lake Como and spend my own month by the lake. In April or May, before the heat and swelter of summer and tourists are in full swing. To wake to sunlight filtered through broad leaves and lace curtains. To linger over morning breakfast with espresso on a terraced patio. To swim in the deep alpine lake surrounded by sharply rising mountains. To picnic in those mountains. Of course, there won't be roadsters of that pre-war vintage speeding up and down the narrow roads, but perhaps a Vespa will suffice for me. And himself, of course.