Rain, Rain, Go Away

Rain, rain, go away;
Come again another day; Lemon and Lime want to play.

It's raining, it's pouring; The old man is snoring. Bumped his head And he went to bed And he couldn't get up in the morning.

-- child's nursery rhymes fanatically sung by moi and moi's sister on rainy days

10:30 am Via Veneto downpour
Moi, The Professor and The Pug (on loan) make our way back to Green Acres, on scooter. I was fashionably dressed in a Tucano Urbano rain coverall, reminding me of the troglodytes (is this right?) in the film Delicatessen. The Pug was angry and I was soaked. When we arrived at home, we were immediately greeted by the pitter patter of little feet.

My dog.

I am not yet at the stage in my life where I am pining to have a child. But I admit, I kind of like the idea. Not necessarily Madonna and Child, but a modified version of my Prodigal Aunt role perfected over the years. Kids and moi is an easy equation. I like children, especially those who can talk. They like me. I like playing with them (the 21st century jungle gym is far better than the 1970s crusty counterpart) and I like their gifts, especially the books.

Last year, while dancing around Villa Borghese, I discovered Casina di Raffaello and its bookstore which contains a wide variety of amazingly international writers and illustrators, something I missed from Los Angeles. This past summer, I played on its new outdoor wooden park, riding on the wooden sheep and playing house in the mini-houses. And last month, a Harry Potter-themed show opened all about story telling and illustration.

The Casina also has a laboratorio (based on reservations) in the winter and will be hosting a camp-like program this summer.

I just like the books. And the sheep.

Casina di Raffaello
Villa Borghese
9 am to 7 pm